Give My All to Jessie (Third in Outlaw Series)

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

"Here's the list of what I need from town," Delilah stated, placing a slip of paper into Jeremiah's hesitant hand. "And here's the money to pay for it," she added, dropping coins and paper money on top of the list.

Jeremiah shoved the list and money deep into his pocket and grumbled. "Why can't you go get it?"

Delilah smiled. "Because I have work to do in the garden. If I don't grow it then we won't eat it."

"I ain't nobodies errand boy," Jeremiah snapped.

Delilah patted his arm. "Yes I know. You're an errand man. Now go on to town so you can be back before dark."

Jeremiah glared at her. The way her silver eyes gazed at him warmly. The way her soft pale skin contrasted sharply with the wispy stands of brown hair that had slipped loose from her bun. The way her sunshine smile made those dimples deepen at the corners of her mouth....Suddenly, Jeremiah realized he was admiring instead of glaring and he turned sharply on his heel and limped away.

Delilah watched him go. Two days had passed since her admission of love on the porch. While Delilah had half expected him to take off that night, he was still here. She wondered if he even understood why.

She sighed as she pulled on her gloves and apron and headed out the back door to save her peppers and tomatoes from the weeds attempting to overtake them.

***

Jeremiah's mind raced as he headed toward town. That damn woman had just given him money and a horse and sent him on his way. Weeks ago, before Delilah, Jeremiah wouldn't have hesitated to steal the horse and money, call it good fortune and be gone. But now? Now Jeremiah wasn't sure what to do.

Delilah had said she loved him. And she trusted him. Jeremiah figured he did owe her something since she had saved his life but he had never before bothered with showing gratitude.

There was just something about that woman. Her soft, lilting voice soothed something in his soul. Her touch calmed him. The sight of her made him want to be a different man. He had to wonder if this was how his brother had felt when Rose had come into his life. Delilah looked at Jeremiah as if he were a decent man—a man she could count on and trust. God help him, he wanted to be that for her.

But that simply wasn't Jeremiah. He wasn't that man and he never would be. He would go to town, use the money to buy his own supplies and then he would take off on the horse and never look back.

A pang of guilt twisted Jeremiah's gut and he forced it aside. He had nothing to feel guilty about. This was who he was. This was what he did. He wasn't a good man no matter how badly Delilah wished he was. He wasn't a man someone could count on. He wasn't a man who cared.

Jeremiah hardened his heart, squared his shoulders and continued on into town. The first thing he did was unhitch the cart at the livery and ride the horse to the saloon. The old Jeremiah would have wanted a shot of whiskey and a whore first thing and so that's what Jeremiah was going to get.

He stepped into the nearly empty saloon and joined several men at the bar, settling down on a stool and ordering a shot of whiskey. Jeremiah stared down into the amber liquid, unable to bring himself to take a sip.

What would happen if he fell back into the old habits that had nearly gotten him killed? With a growl, Jeremiah tossed back the shot. The old him wouldn't have cared about what ifs.

He was surprised when the whiskey didn't taste as good as he remembered it tasting. He ordered himself a beer and stared down into it, becoming lost in his thoughts.