Outlaw's Bride by Lori Copeland Page B

standing over him, a pitcher in her hand.
    He checked a smile. He didn’t know what it was about Jo, but Ragan’s younger sister reminded him of his sister, Lara. She’d have been a few years older than Jo now. And like Jo, Lara’d be so pretty she’d steal every boy’s heart that looked her way. Pain twisted his gut, and he looked away. “I’ve had enough, thank you, Jo.”
    She set the pitcher aside and smiled shyly. “Mind if I join you?”
    Johnny glanced in Ragan’s direction. That probably wasn’t a good idea; he didn’t want her riled at him today. He’d rather have her smiles than those looks she could give him. “I’ll be going back to work shortly.”
    The young girl’s face fell. “But not for a while.”
    She looked so disappointed he didn’t have the heart to refuse her. What could a few minutes hurt? He nodded.
    Flashing a quick smile, she sat down beside him. “Did you enjoy your dinner?”
    “Too much,” he conceded. It would be real easy to get used to this lifestyle. Good food, clean sheets, a good-looking woman looking after him. Sweet-smelling Ragan, serving him breakfast every morning. He clamped down on that thought, hard.
    His mind wandered to the one time he’d seriously thought about marrying. Her folks owned a spread next to Grandpa’s. She was young, pretty, and mad as a hornet when he rode away without asking for her hand. At the time he knew it was the right thing to do. He might have loved her. He’d at least been mighty attracted to her. Maybe he should have married her, started a family… But the shadow of Dirk Bledso covered him.
    “Don’t you think, Mr. McAllister?” Jo’s question brought him back to the present. He lifted his head to meet her questioning eyes.
    “Sorry, did you say something?”
    “Don’t you think that a girl has the right to tell a boy that she likes him?” Morning glory blue eyes gazed adoringly at him. “Ragan says—”
    “Jo!”
    A flushed Ragan stood over them, her eyes snapping, a wooden spoon clutched tightly in her hand. Jo looked up at her sister expectantly. “Yes?”
    “Roberta needs your help cutting desserts.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” The girl obediently got up, brushing dried grass off the back of her dress. She turned and gave Johnny a smile that would melt the devil’s heart. “Thank you, Mr. McAllister. It’s been nice visiting with you.”
    Ragan’s left foot tapped impatiently. “Hurry along, Jo.”
    Johnny waited until the girl joined Roberta at the dessert table and was out of earshot before he turned to confront Ragan, his features taut. “I’m not going to hurt your sister.”
    Crimson burned her cheeks as she thrust a plate toward him. “I brought you a piece of pecan pie.”
    “No, thanks.” He thrust it back, his earlier good mood gone. She sure knew how to take the fun out of a picnic.
    Expelling a deep breath, she extended the pie again, insistent that he take it. “Minnie’s real proud of her pies. Just because you don’t like me doesn’t mean you need to hurt her feelings.” She motioned toward the row of tables. “She’s watching to see if you eat it.”
    Johnny mentally groaned when he saw the mayor’s wife wave at him. He didn’t have to appease Minnie Rayles by eating her pie; he was sentenced to monotony, not gluttony. He halfheartedly waved back before turning back to face Ragan. “Who said I didn’t like you?”
    “You.” She sat down, setting the pie plate on his chest. She was still upset, but she never stayed mad long, just long enough to pin his ears back. A grin played at the corners of his mouth.
    The smell of pecan pie drifted to him, and he sat up. He’d eat the pie. He didn’t want accusing female eyes on him all day.
    “Exactly when did I say I didn’t like you?” He bit into the tender crust. How could a woman take flour and lard and nuts and come up with something that tasted so good?
    “You haven’t ever specifically said it, but I know you don’t.”