She took a breath. “And they attacked the man who delivers hay for the horses. He stopped at the house and made the mistake of getting out of his truck. They were on him in a second. Felix was barely able to grab their collars and restrain them so the man could get inside his vehicle. It was very scary. I’m even afraid to go out after dark, and if they attack one of my mistreated animals I would just die.”
“Then call your friend Gavin first thing in the morning.” He didn’t want her living in fear. He wasn’t all that fond of the dogs, either.
They walked to the passenger side of his King Ranch truck. Suddenly she turned and he bumped into her. He caught her arms to steady her. Smooth, silky skin tempted his fingers and a delicate fragrance wafted to his nostrils. His heart rate rose like mercury in a thermometer. Oh, God. He released her. This was going to be a long, long evening.
“A couple of days ago Will brought me a baby fawn,” Jessie was saying. “Someone had killed her mother.”
“Who’s Will?” How many men came out here to see Jessie? He knew she was the big selling point. The animals were just an excuse. For the first time jealousy flickered in his gut. It was ridiculous. He’d never had these symptoms with the other women he’d dated. So why was Jessie different?
“The game warden,” she replied, and he jerked his attention back to the conversation. “The little thing needed nourishment badly. I have her in a cage in the barn. Since she’s a new scent I’m afraid the Dobermans will attack her. I keep a rifle at the barn and one in the house if anything goes awry.”
“Jessie, I don’t like the sound of this. Call the vet.”
She flipped back her long hair. “Are you telling me what to do?”
“Yes,” he replied.
In the light from the garage he could see her black eyes flashing. “Just so you know I don’t respond well to people telling me what to do.”
He met her gaze. “Just so you know, as your husband, I’ll be doing that—a lot.”
“I figured,” she replied in a saucy tone. “Don’t expect me to be a dutiful wife.”
He opened the passenger door of his white truck. “That’s the last thing I expect from you.”
She laughed softly and it seemed to clear the tiredness and stress from his mind.
His vehicle was high off the ground and he intended to help her inside, but she hitched up her skirt, showing a long length of smooth thighs, and hopped in without a problem.
Why did Roscoe think Jessie was fragile and helpless? She had as much strength as he had. Why had Roscoe never seen that?
He walked around to the driver’s side. Why had he never seen that? He just assumed Jessie was as vulnerable as Roscoe had described. They’d both been wrong. Jessie could match his strength any day of the week. Their marriage would be a test of wills. Who’d be the first to give in, the first to compromise?
As he backed out, he knew one thing. It wasn’t going to be him.
CHAPTER FOUR
STUPID! STUPID! JESSIE CURSED silently. Why didn’t she let Cadde help her? Her father’s paranoia had made her dependent and she’d spent many years staking her independence, proving to everyone, mostly herself, that she was capable of handling her life. Claiming that prize hadn’t been easy, but she was tired of being afraid of everything around her. So she faced life head-on, determined to do things on her own. Sometimes, though, she needed to make better judgment calls—like tonight.
Little was said as Cadde drove away from the house. She watched his big hands on the steering wheel: capable, efficient and strong. That described him to a T.
A Shilah Oil coffee cup was in the console along with papers listing oil wells and production numbers. The four-door cab truck was big, but with Cadde’s presence it seemed to grow smaller. A woodsy coffee scent tempted her nostrils. She leaned back and let the cool air from the air-conditioning calm her nerves.
When they reached the cutoff to U.S. 290, Cadde stopped the truck. “Where would you like to go?” His tone indicated he didn’t care and that irritated her.
“There’s a nice Italian restaurant in Brenham,” she replied. “It might be more miles, but less traffic.”
“Fine.” He turned right. He was halfway friendly earlier. Now he seemed to have nailed that door shut. If he wanted to be temperamental, that was okay with her—up to a point. This evening was about them getting to know each other and he had to make an effort.
They breezed into Brenham, a small town of nearly fifteen thousand, and home to Blue Bell Creamery. As a child, she loved it when her dad would take her to get ice cream. Even though it was one of her fondest memories, it took all of her childish imagination to ignore the guards. She had wanted to run and play with the other kids, but was never allowed.