Christmas Cowboy: Will of Steel / Winter Roses

“Of course I am.”

He sighed and pulled her close. “Now, that’s exactly the sort of thing that makes a man feel good about himself, when some sweet little woman worries about him.”

“I’m not little, I’m not sweet and I don’t usually worry,” she pointed out.

“It’s okay if you worry about me,” he teased. “As long as you don’t do it excessively.”

She toyed with the top button of his unbuttoned jacket. “There are lots of safer professions than being a police chief.”

He frowned. “You’re kidding, right?”

She grimaced. “Ted, Joe Brown’s wife was one of my uncle’s friends. She was married to that deputy sheriff who was shot to death a few years ago. She said that she spent their whole married lives sitting by the phone at night, almost shaking with worry every time he had to go out on a case, hoping and praying that he’d come home alive.”

His hands on her slender waist had tightened unconsciously. “Anyone who marries someone in law enforcement has to live with that possibility,” he said slowly.

She bit her lower lip. She was seeing herself sitting by the phone at night, pacing the floor. She was prone to worry anyway. She was very fond of Ted. She didn’t want him to die. But right now, she wasn’t in love. She had time to think about what she wanted to do with her life. She was sure she should give this a lot of thought before she dived headfirst into a relationship with him that might lead very quickly to marriage. She’d heard people talk about how it was when people became very physical with each other, that it was so addictive that they couldn’t bear to be apart at all. Once that happened, she wouldn’t have a chance to see things rationally.

Ted could almost see the thoughts in her mind. Slowly he released her and stepped back.

She felt the distance, and it was more than physical. He was drawing away in every sense.

She looked up at him. She drew in a long breath. “I’m not sure I’m ready, Ted.”

“Ready for what?”

That stiffness in him was disturbing, but she had to be honest. “I’m not sure I’m ready to think about marriage.”

His black eyes narrowed. “Jillian, if we don’t get married, there’s a California developer who’s going to make this place into hot real estate with tourist impact, and Sammy could end up on a platter.”

She felt those words like a body blow. Her eyes, tormented, met his. “But it’s not fair, to rush into something without having time to think about it!” she exclaimed. “The wills didn’t say we have to get married tomorrow! There’s no real time limit!”

There was, but he wasn’t going to push her. She had cold feet. She didn’t know him that well, despite the years they’d been acquainted, and she wasn’t ready for the physical side of marriage. She had hang-ups, and good reasons to have them.

“Okay,” he said after a minute. “Suppose we just get to know each other and let the rest ride for a while? ”

“You mean, go on dates and stuff?”

He pursed his lips. “Yes. Dates and stuff.”

She noticed how handsome he was. In a crowd, he always stood out. He was a vivid sort of person, not like she was at all. But they did enjoy the same sorts of things and they got along, most of the time.

“I would like to see your place,” she said.

“I’ll come and get you Saturday morning,” he said quietly.

He waited for her answer with bridled impatience. She could see that. He wasn’t sure of her at all. She hated being so hesitant, but it was a rushed business. She would have to make a decision in the near future or watch Uncle John’s ranch become a resort. It didn’t bear thinking about. On the other hand, if she said yes to Ted, it would mean a relationship that she was certain she wasn’t ready for.

“Stop gnawing your lip off and say yes,” Ted told her. “We’ll work out the details as we go along.”

She sighed. “Okay, Ted,” she said after a minute.

He hadn’t realized that he’d been holding his breath. He smiled slowly. She was going to take the chance. It was a start.

“Okay.” He frowned. “You don’t have any low-cut blouses and jeans that look like you’ve been poured into them, do you? ”

“Ted!”

“Well, I was just wondering,” he said. “Because if you do, you can’t wear them over at my place. We have a dress code.”

“A dress code.” She nodded. “So your cowboys have to wear dresses.” She nodded again.

He burst out laughing. He bent and kissed her, hard, but impersonally, and walked down the steps. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

“You call that a kiss?” she yelled after him, and shocked herself with the impertinent remark that had jumped out of her so impulsively.

But he didn’t react to it the way she expected. He just threw up his hand and kept walking.

They worked side by side in his kitchen making lunch. He was preparing an omelet while she made cinnamon toast and fried bacon.

“Breakfast for lunch,” she scoffed.

“Hey, I very often have breakfast for supper, if I’ve been out on a case,” he said indignantly. “There’s no rule that says you have to have breakfast in the morning.”

“I suppose not.”

“See, you don’t know how to break rules.”

She gasped. “You’re a police chief! You shouldn’t be encouraging anybody to break rules.”

“It’s okay as long as it’s only related to food,” he replied.

She laughed, shaking her head.

“You going to turn that bacon anytime soon?” he asked, nodding toward it, “or do you really like it raw on one side and black on the other?”

“If you don’t like it that way, you could fry it yourself.”

“I do omelets,” he pointed out. “I don’t even eat bacon.”

“What?”

“Pig meat,” he muttered.

“I like bacon!”

“Good. Then you can eat it. I’ve got a nice country ham all carved up and cooked in the fridge. I’ll have that with mine.”

“Ham is pig meat, too!”