Stealing Jake Read Online Free Page A

hips, breathing hard. But the expression on Livy’s face made the labor worth it all. She looked like a child at the candy counter over at McIver’s, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement.
    “It’s an answer to prayer.” She ran her hand over a barrel of sugar. “I can’t believe there’s so much.”
    He removed his coat and wiped his sleeve across his brow. “Maybe Mr. Hays intended to open a store.”
    “Poor man. Did you ever find out what happened?”
    Jake shook his head. “We really couldn’t tell. Something must have spooked the horses while he was taking the harnesses off. It’s a miracle the children weren’t hurt.”
    “Yes, it is.” She hesitated and looked away from him, her gaze finally landing on the stove. A blush stole over her cheeks. “Would you like some coffee before you go?”
    He hesitated. He’d worked up a sweat hauling in the supplies, but a cup of coffee would be nice. “Thanks.”
    “I’m afraid it’s been sitting on the stove awhile.”
    “If I can drink that stuff Sheriff Carter makes, I can drink anything.”
    She laughed. He liked the sound, like little silver bells.
    “Do you take sugar? I’m afraid we’re out of cream.”
    “Black is fine.”
    As Jake nursed his cup of coffee, Livy stirred a big pot of stew, and he tried to think of something to bring her out of her shell. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before glancing over her shoulder at him, a questioning look on her face.
    “How long have you known Mrs. Brooks?”
    Her gaze shifted, and she turned away. The ladle in her hand seemed to have become the most important thing in the world. “About two years.”
    “Then you’re not from around here, are you? Sheriff Carter said she came from Chicago.”
    “Yes, that’s right.” She reached for the coffeepot, her smile firmly in place. Had he imagined her unease? “Would you like some more?”
    Her eyes flashed like a bluebird on the wing, and his fingers itched to feel the softness of her cheek, the curve of her jaw. He blinked. What kind of spell had Livy O’Brien woven? Or was he weaving one of his own? He needed to concentrate all his energies on paying off that loan before he lost the family farm. Then, maybe, he’d think about courting, about starting a family. But not for a long, long time.
    “No thank you. I’d better get back to the jail.”
    He gulped the rest of the bitter brew and grabbed his hat, determined to put some distance between himself and Livy O’Brien.

 
Chapter Three
    The boss turned toward the motley group of kids cowering in front of him. One gangly boy stared back at him, angry defiance on his face. Grady stood in front of the door, muscled arms crossed over his chest. The faint hum of sewing machines in the next room overrode the silence.
    The boss pinned the boy with a look that meant business. “What’s your name?”
    “Bobby.” The kid’s chin lifted, and he looked him square in the face. Cheeky little bugger. The kid would bear watching.
    “How’d you get out of the crate?” He reached for an apple, well aware the children hadn’t eaten in days.
    The boy looked away from the fruit, a mulish expression settling over his face.
    “So you don’t want to tell me, huh?” He sliced off a small piece of apple and stuck it in his mouth, chewing slowly. There were ways to make him talk. “Grady?”
    “Yeah, boss?” Grady straightened, flexing his muscles.
    He nodded toward a small, dark-eyed youngster. Grady grabbed the child and wrapped his beefy hands around the kid’s arm. The kid’s eyes widened.
    One squeeze would crush the arm like a bug.
    The boss’s gaze slid back to Bobby. “When I ask a question, I expect an answer.”
    The kid stood rigid, watchful, eyes narrowed.
    One thing he’d learned about these kids: they were street savvy to the core. Both boys knew exactly what would happen if somebody didn’t give an answer.
    Soon.
    Bobby’s gaze bounced between the boss and Grady’s too-eager