Stealing Jake by Pam Hillman Read Free Book Online Page A

want this, did she? Not after Katie.
    A burst of childish laughter came from the parlor. They jerked apart, the spell of attraction shattered. Livy sat ramrod straight and refused to look up. Her heart raced as her mind scrambled to figure out what had just happened between her and Jake.
    Seconds ticked by before Jake cleared his throat and picked up the doll. “All right. Now she’s beginning to look presentable, don’t you think?”
    “Yes.” Livy barely managed to get the word out. What if he had leaned forward to kiss her? What would she have done? Would she have let him . . . or slapped his face for being so forward?
    “Um . . . do you have any flour?”
    She blinked, ignoring the questions banging against her brain. “Flour?”
    “Yeah.” He rummaged around in his sack and brought out a handful of soft, golden corn silk. “Mix some flour and water together to make a paste. This little lady needs some hair.”
    Thankful for something to occupy her, Livy controlled her shaky fingers, stirred up a batch, and handed the paste to Jake. He looked so calm, as if he wasn’t going to kiss her moments before. She bit her lip. Maybe she’d imagined the whole thing. Her sister’s words came back to haunt her.
    “Stolen kisses lead to more than you need or want.”
    She’d do well to remember that. She clasped her hands in her lap and concentrated on the doll.
    Jake dabbed a small amount of the sticky goo on the doll’s head and added silk to create a halo of golden curls. Next, he made a bonnet, letting the curls peek out from underneath. Finally he trimmed the ends of the skirt and stood her up in the middle of the table.
    Livy touched a finger to the doll. “Oh, she’s beautiful!”
    “Yes, she is.”
    She looked up. Jake stared at her instead of the toy, his gaze skimming lightly over her face.
    Her breath caught. He meant her.
    Livy’s heart fluttered as her cheeks warmed. She lowered her gaze, afraid of what he’d see in her eyes—that when he said it, it made her feel beautiful in a way she never had before. She stared unseeingly at the corn-husk doll as a place deep in her heart she hadn’t even known was wounded began to heal.

 
Chapter Five
    Coffee.
    Jake needed coffee in the worst way. Skinner had kept him up all night. Singing. Or caterwauling, to be more accurate. He hadn’t heard a peep from the man’s cell in over an hour, so either Skinner had died or he’d fallen into a drunken stupor. And to tell the truth, it didn’t matter which, so long as the drunkard kept a sock in it.
    Jake had already gulped downed two cups when the door opened, letting in a blast of frigid air.
    “Man, it’s cold out there this morning.” Sheriff Carter shuffled inside and made a beeline for the stove.
    Jake tilted his chair back and took a sip of the hot brew. “Looks like we got another foot of snow.”
    “I don’t know how much more of this we can take.” The older man huddled close to the firebox, his hands extended toward the warmth. “Did you have a quiet night?”
    “Mostly.” Jake jerked his head toward the back of the jail. “Skinner and a couple of strangers are sleeping off a drunk back there. Finally.”
    “Skinner?” Sheriff Carter shook his head. “Don’t reckon that boy’ll ever learn.”
    “Reckon not.”
    They both looked up as the door opened and Sam McIver stepped inside, a frown on his normally cheerful face.
    “Morning, Sam.” Sheriff Carter held up the blackened pot. “Coffee?”
    “No thanks.” The mercantile owner took off his hat and stomped snow from his boots. “Somebody broke into the store last night.”
    “Really?” Sheriff Carter’s eyebrows shot up. “What all did they take?”
    “A case of beans, several jars of sausages, some blankets. And a Dutch oven, of all things.” McIver twisted his hat.
    Jake snorted. “Nobody’s going to get very far toting a Dutch oven.”
    “That’s what I thought. It’s bound to be that riffraff from