If You Believe

I could be the best time you ever had. And no one would ever know.

It was amazing how compelling those words were. They cut through her anxiety like a hot knife and filled her with giddy, tingling anticipation. They seduced her, intrigued her.

She would never have thought that such a simple sentence could romance her so completely, could make her feel so . . . free.

But they did. Nothing she did with Mad Dog would be held against her, or even remembered by anyone except herself.

Not like before, when shed been so public about her passion . . . and her heartbreak.

No one would ever know.

She shivered. Seductive words indeed.

Chapter Fourteen

Mad Dog threw a dark apple into the "red" barrel. It hit with a thunk that sent tiny bits of fruit flying. Absently he stared at the boy picking apples in the other tree. For some strange reason, he felt bad about what had happened in the kitchen that morning.

"Hey, kid," he said, tossing another apple in the barrel.

Jake paused in his work and peered through the colorful leaves. "Yeah?"

"About this morning . . . " Mad Dog shrugged, not quite sure what to say. "Im sorry if I said something that upset you. "

Jake stared at him for a long minute, then slowly smiled. "Yeah, me, too. I guess I acted sorta dumb. "

Mad Dog grinned. "Hell, I do that all the time. " He waved the boy over. "Come on, lets take a break. "

Jake scrambled down from the ladder. Gently placing his sack full of apples in the

"mostly red" barrel, he followed Mad Dog to the sagging wooden fence.

Mad Dog yanked his canteen from around the fence post and took a long, gulping drink of water. The cool water felt good dribbling down his exposed throat. "Ah, thats good. " He handed the canteen to Jake. "Course, itd be better if it was tequila, but sometimes a guy just has to make do. "

Jake stared at him. A tight frown worked its way across his serious face. "What do you mean?"

He grinned. "Dont take me too seriously, kid. Its just a saying. "

Jake took a quick sip of water. Wiping the moisture from his lips, he looked up at Mad Dog through earnest green eyes. "Youre a fighter, arent you?"

"Yep. " He smiled, ran a hand through his hair, and unbuttoned his shirt. The cool afternoon air breezed across his sweaty chest, fluttering the edges of his shirt. "You follow me?"

Jake paled. The canteen slipped through his fingers and hit the grass. "Huh?" The word was a high-pitched squeak.

"You follow fighting?"

"Oh. " Jakes scrawny chest caved in. Something that looked like relief flashed through his eyes. "Yeah, I guess. "

"Seems people think its sort of romantic. "

"Dont you?"

Mad Dog snatched a towel from the fence rail and wiped the sheen of moisture from his brow. "Nothin glamorous about hittin a man, kid. "

"Why do you do it, then?"

He sat down in the warm grass and idly ran his hand through a pile of multicolored autumn leaves. "Money, I guess. Same reason a man does anything. "

"My grandfather used to say a man should let honor guide his actions. "