“Clarissa Jameson,” he said. “The first women I had sex with was Clarissa Jameson. As much as I’d like to forget it, I can’t. So I disagree with you, Miss Applegate. You should be choosey about who you make love to. I sure as hell wish I had been. Because being cautious about who you get into a relationship with is better than getting yourheart ripped in two. And I won’t have Cheyenne going through what I did.” His hand tightened on her arm. Not painfully. Just enough to make her aware of his unleashed strength. “I won’t have her hurt. Do you hear me? I damn well won’t.”
Jolene might’ve been afraid if not for the love and concern she saw in Cal’s eyes. She wished she could read her own father’s emotions as easily. But Otis Applegate wasn’t the type of man who showed his feelings. She wasn’t even sure he had any. She worried that she would turn out the same way—an emotionless shell who spent all her time counting money in the family bank.
Although she wasn’t feeling emotionless now.
A warm glow spread from Cal’s hand to the rest of her body. A tingling warmth that made her feel hot even with the cold wind buffeting her from all sides. The heat seemed to burn straight through her tweed jacket and button down shirt to singe her skin and melt her bones. Before she could slip into a puddle at his feet, Cal released her and stepped away.
“Mind your own business, Miss Applegate. You take care of bank loans and I’ll take care of tires and my daughter.” He turned and angrily strode back to the garage.
When he was gone, Jolene tried to regain her equilibrium. What had happened? Obviously, going without sex for so long had finally caught up with her. Although at Boone and Emma’s wedding, she had two-stepped and waltzed with quite a few men and not one of their touches had made her feel like she felt now.
Maybe it hadn’t been Cal’s touch. Maybe it had been his anger. Maybe she was mistaking fear for lust. She shook her head to clear it before she turned and headed down the street. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts she almost ran into a ladder that was set up next to a light post.
Raynelle Coffman stood on the ladder with loops of silver garland around her neck. It went extremely well with her short blue hair and sparkly blue-framed glasses. Raynelle’s best friend, Luanne Riddell, stood next to the ladder holding one of the many plastic Santa Claus heads that hung from the light posts during the holidays.
Jolene wasn’t surprised to see her two book club buddies. She knew they were part of the town decorating committee and had waved at them earlier on her way to the garage.
“How’s the decorating going?” she asked. “It looks like you’ve gotten a lot done.”
“No thanks to Raynelle,” Luanne grumbled. “I swear the woman is as slow as Methuselah. She’s not happy unless the garland is wrapped a perfect six inches apart. Just hurry up, Ray! I’m freezing my tail off. You’ve been standing up there not doing anything for forever.”
“Because I was watching Cal grab hold of Jolene.”
Jolene cringed. She hadn’t thought anyone saw her and Cal. It looked like she had been wrong. What made matters worse was that Raynelle was one of the biggest gossips in Simple . . . with a wild imagination.
Raynelle placed a hand over her heart. “I swearI lost my breath when Cal came striding out of the garage so purposefully and grabbed your arm, Jo. It reminded me of the movieThe Quiet Man,when John Wayne grabs Maureen O’Hara and kisses her after he catches her cleaning his house. Maureen’s red hair was whipping in the wind just like yours and John was all intense just like Cal.” She sighed. “Maybe I should dye my hair red instead of blue.”
“You’d look awful with red hair, Ray,” Luanne said. “And why didn’t you say something so I could see what was going on too?”
Jolene quickly jumped in. “Nothing was going on. Cal is just fixing a leak in my tire and he stopped me to . . . to get my phone number so he can call me when my car is ready. There was nothing sexual about it.” She didn’t know why she had thrown the last part in. Probably because there had been something sexual about it. At least for her. Her arm still burned where he’d touched her.
“Sexual?” Luanne stared at her for so long that Jolene thought for sure she had read through her lie. But instead of confronting her, Luanne burst out laughing. “You and Cal?” She laughed so hard that she stumbled back into the ladder and almost knocked Raynelle off.
Raynelle grabbed onto the light post to steady herself. She was laughing too, but not hard enough to keep her from talking. “Well, of course we don’t think anything sexual is going on between you and Cal. You and Cal couldn’t be more opposite. He grew up poor as a churchmouse and you grew up wealthy as Midas. He owns a mechanic shop and lives in a little apartment and you own a bank and live in a big ol’ mansion. He’s in his thirties and you’re in your forties.”
Jolene stiffened. “I’m not in my forties.”
Luanne stared at her. “You’re not?”
“I’m thirty-nine.”
“Well, that’s close enough, honey.” Luanne reached out and patted her arm. “But don’t you worry. I have some great Mary Kay products that will get rid of those wrinkles around your eyes and make your skin as smooth as a baby’s—” She cut off, and her eyes widened with fear. “Hey, Miss Gertie. I didn’t see you standing there.”
Jolene turned to see Gertrude Dixon standing right behind her. She understood why Luanne was so scared. Everyone in town was scared of Miss Gertie. With her thinning gray hair, wrinkled skin, and fragile bones, she looked like a frail old woman two steps from the grave. But Miss Gertie was anything but frail. Her sharp eyes caught everything that went on in Simple. While she didn’t gossip, she had no problem butting into other people’s business when she saw fit. No one went up against Miss Gertie. Or showed any signs of disrespect.
“Good afternoon, Miss Dixon,” Jolene said. “How are you, ma’am?”
“Old.” Miss Gertie pushed her bright pink walker closer and Jolene took a step back. Not just because she didn’t want to get her toes run over, but also because she didn’t want to get scratchedby the cat who sat in the basket of the walker. Rhett Butler was as ornery as his owner. But Miss Gertie kept right on coming until Jolene was backed up against Luanne who was backed up against the ladder. Miss Gertie’s piercing gaze pinned Jolene. “So Cal Daily is fixing your tire.”
It wasn’t a question, but Jolene answered it anyway. “Yes, ma’am.”
Miss Gertie nodded. “Good. You chose the right man to take care of your needs.” She glanced at Luanne and Raynelle. “Well, don’t just stand there gawking, you two. Get back to making my town look Christmassy.” She wheeled her walker around and headed down the street.
As Jolene watched the old woman shuffle away, she couldn’t help but feel like she’d missed something in their brief conversation. And Miss Gertie hadn’t been talking about a leaky tire, at all
Chapter Three
“Didyou have to hire Luanne Riddell’s son, Nathan, to work at the garage?” Cheyenne had pulled down the truck visor and was applying lip-gloss using the mirror on the back. “Why not Ronny Davenport? He’s much cuter than Nerdy Nate.”
