Luke's Would-Be Bride. Sandra Steffen

subject of spending time with Jillian. And the third time she’d ignored him completely. He’d given her a few hours to feel comfortable, then had started hinting for a date. He hadn’t thought too much of it when she’d given him a noncommittal hum when he’d suggested they catch a bite to eat in Pierre or take in a movie. At the time he’d assumed she hadn’t heard. After all, she was up to her elbows in a new job. Now that he thought about it, she hadn’t had any trouble answering his questions concerning her trip out here from Madison. And she hadn’t given him that little hum when he’d told her how his great-great-great grandfather, Jasper Carson, had come to found this town. Only his requests to spend time with her outside the office had been met with complete silence.

      She’d heard his invitations. All three times. But she was ignoring them. Luke wanted to know why.

      Keeping his voice purposefully low, he asked, “Ever been to the rodeo, Jillian?”

      She shook her head cautiously. And Luke moved in to set the hook.

      “That’s too bad. The rodeo is South Dakota’s numberone spectator sport. I don’t think there’s a living soul out here who doesn’t look forward to rodeo days. Since I’d really hate to see you miss it, I’d be happy to take you.”

      Jillian didn’t know where to look. She’d gone through the stack of files on the corner of the desk, so she couldn’t look there. She half wished the phone would ring. But it didn’t, and she couldn’t look there, either. In the end she squared off opposite Luke and raised her gaze to his. The moment of truth wasn’t far away.

      “When do rodeo days begin?” she asked.

      “In August.”

      “That’s next month.”

      Although Luke raised his eyebrows, he didn’t say anything. She felt like an idiot, anyway. He’d as good as told her he thought his former secretary didn’t have both oars in the water, and here she was sounding even worse. It required all her willpower to hold his gaze, all her courage to say, “I appreciate your invitation, Luke, but I really can’t make that kind of commitment.”

      “You can’t.”

      Those two little words were issued in a clipped tone of voice men everywhere used moments before their patience went right through the roof. Giving her head a firm shake, she said, “No, I can’t.”

      “Why the hell not?”

      “Because,” she said, keeping her voice as steady as possible. “I can’t guarantee I’ll still be here by then.”

      She closed her eyes, waiting for the explosion. When it didn’t come, she chanced a glance his way. His lips were set in a firm line, his chest puffed out like a porcupine’s quills. She quickly diverted her gaze to her watch. “Would you look at the time! It’s twelve o’clock already, and I told Lisa I’d help her in the store right after lunch.”

      Without another word, she hurried to the back room where she’d stashed her purse first thing that morning. When she came out again, she couldn’t help noticing that Luke hadn’t moved an inch. It was the longest she’d seen him stay in one place all morning.

      “Well,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Eight o’clock sharp. ’Bye.”

      

      The blast of hot air from the street brought Luke out of his stupor. He didn’t know what was happening to his concentration, but he didn’t like what had just happened to his ego. He’d asked Jillian out four times, which was exactly how often he’d been shot down.

      He scooped his hat off his head with one hand and rubbed his face with the other. The Carson brothers may not have had much in the patience department, but they’d never had any trouble with women. Luke himself had turned a fair number of heads in his day, even with the lack of females in the area these past few years. Until about a minute ago he’d been confident that he could turn Jillian’s.

      What the hell did she mean she couldn’t guarantee she’d be here next month? Where was she planning to go? He supposed he could wait until she came to work in the morning to find out. Wait, hell.

      He crammed his hat back on his head and strode straight out to the sidewalk. He didn’t even bother to close the door.

      It was high noon, and some of the people of Jasper Gulch were out and about. Cletus McCully was sitting in his usual spot on the bench in front of the post office, and Opal Graham and her spinster daughter Louetta were heading for the diner for their usual Tuesday lunch.

      Luke spotted Jillian trying to cross the street in front of Josie’s Five and Dime. Shading her eyes with her hand, she glanced to the right and then to the left, waiting for Karl Hanson to move his old truck on down the street. Luke headed toward her, his long strides eating up the sidewalk in record time. By the time she stepped off the curb, he was only five yards away.

      “Jillian, wait!”

      She looked over her shoulder and came to an abrupt stop.

      He slowed his steps and called, “You need a key.”

      “A what?”

      He took another step, feeling the heat rise off the pavement in waves. “A key. I never know when I’ll have to make an emergency run to one of the ranches. If it happens in the middle of the night or early in the morning, I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to open the office at eight.”

      “Oh, in that case…”

      Jillian’s lips continued to move, but an approaching car in dire need of a new muffler drowned out whatever else she was saying. From the corner of his eye, he saw a rusty splotch of brown and fleetingly wondered why Roy Everts didn’t break down and get that car of his fixed. The old man drove like a maniac, taking out fence posts and mailboxes every other day. Luke turned his head just in time to see Roy take the corner wide, barreling through the town’s only stop sign. In a flash Luke realized the old geezer was about to take out Jillian today.

      “Jillian. Look out!” Luke reached her on the run, his feet moving before his brain had decided what to do. A horn blared just as his arm snaked around her waist. He pulled her to his chest so hard it knocked the wind out of her.

      Roy missed her by two feet.

      Craning her neck to look at the car, which had come to a stop in front of the Crazy Horse, she gasped, “Who was that?”

      Another time Luke would have called Roy every name in the book. But right that minute all his concentration was fixed on the woman in his arms. He’d noticed she was slender the first time he’d seen her, but he’d had no way of knowing how soft and pliant she would feel in his arms. Her hair smelled of warm flowers, her white blouse a thin barrier between his callused hand and the soft skin at her waist. This close, her eyes were an even lighter shade of blue and were wide open, staring into his.

      “His name is Roy. Don’t worry, Cletus is already giving him the tongue lashing he deserves. Not that it’ll do any good.”

      She moved, her thigh brushing his, her breathing expanding her chest, which in turn expanded his. Her lips were parted slightly and so full he was tempted to kiss her, here and now.

      “Luke, what are you doing?”

      Her voice was a husky rasp, but it brought him to his senses. He wouldn’t have minded kissing her in the middle of Main Street. But first kisses were meant to be private, especially if they were going to lead to second kisses.

      Loosening his hold on her, he said, “I’m saving your life, of course.”

      She glanced around. And stiffly stepped back. “Oh. I suppose you’re right. Um. Well. I don’t know what to say.”

      She sounded breathless. Luke didn’t blame her. His breathing was still ragged, too. But his mind was functioning normally, and as far as he was concerned, there were several things she could say. She could tell him she’d be happy to go out with him, for starters. And maybe she could