Читать книгу Colton Cowboy Protector - Beth Cornelison - Страница 10
ОглавлениеWith his gaze, Jack Colton followed the sounds of splashing water and his son’s playful laugh to the swimming pool and cracked a small grin. Seth’s carefree, sometimes mischievous nature reminded him of himself when he was younger, before life, fatherhood and the demands of a large cattle ranch replaced his wild ways with a more responsible attitude. The mirthful sounds were silenced by a rebuke from Jack’s mother, and he tensed.
Wasn’t it bad enough that Abra was putting on this dog-and-pony show, flaunting Greta’s engagement to the world in order to boost her own social standing? The media was here, for cripes’ sake! Not that Jack wasn’t happy for his sister. Greta’s engagement deserved to be toasted and celebrated. Just not so publicly. This spectacle was an embarrassment.
Jack strode quickly to the pool to retrieve his son, noting that Brett had been the one egging the boy on. Jack appreciated the rapport his brother had with five-year-old Seth, but not when it led his son down the wrong path...namely one that crossed Abra’s.
“Seth,” Jack said calmly, but with a tone and volume that brooked no resistance. His son glanced up, and Jack gave a subtle head jerk. As Seth obediently scurried out of the water, Jack turned his gaze to Brett and sent him a false smile. “Thanks.”
His brother held up both hands, laughing, “He started it.”
“Yeah, but you’re an adult. Act like one.”
Brett gave him a who-whizzed-in-your-Wheaties look and turned to join the conversation behind him. No doubt ragging on his grumpy big brother. When had Jack become such a grandpa?
Jack dragged a hand over his mouth and sighed. He was feeling edgy today, and it wasn’t Brett’s fault. This lavish party—$20,000 for champagne?—chafed his practical business sense. Anything frivolous that ate away the bottom line was a burr under his saddle. This party was the whole prickly bush. Grunting in frustration, he swiped a beach towel off a lounge chair and held it out for Seth.
“Sorry, Daddy,” Seth said mournfully, his eyes downcast as he slopped over in his wet clothes and shoes.
“Didn’t I ask you this morning to be on your best behavior?” Squatting, Jack wrapped the towel around him and rubbed an end over his shaggy brown hair.
“Yes, sir.” Seth lifted a rebellious look. “But this party is so boring! There are no kids to play with and no bouncy castle or games.”
Jack was bored, too, and eager to get out in the north pasture to check on the most recently born calves. “Tell you what. Go change into dry clothes, behave like the good boy I know you can be for the rest of the party and we’ll get ice cream in town tonight. Deal?”
Seth’s face brightened. “Two scoops?”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “A wheeler-dealer like your grandpa, I see.”
Seth grinned at the comparison. “Pa Pa says, ‘never take the first offer. Always ask for a more better deal.’”
“Just ‘better.’ Not ‘more better.’”
Seth wrinkled his nose. “Huh?”
Inside the house, Seth’s Pa Pa, Big J, gave a bellowing laugh that reached all the way to the pool. Jack shook his head. Seth could do worse than to emulate Big J. Poor grammar aside.
“Sure. Two scoops. If you eat a good dinner.” Great, now Jack sounded like someone’s mother. Not his mother, though. Abra had never cared whether he ate his vegetables or brushed his teeth. She still barely bothered herself with her children, unless it served her purposes. Case in point, Greta’s engagement party.
“Excuse me.”
Jack angled his head to meet the gaze of the woman beside him who’d spoken. He squinted against the bright Oklahoma sun, which backlit her.
“Are you Jack Colton?” she asked.
“I am.”
“May I have a word with you?” Her voice was noticeably thin and unsteady. She cleared her throat and added, “Privately?”
In his head, Jack groaned. What now?
He swatted Seth on the bottom. “Go get changed, Spud.”
With a curious glance at the woman, Seth nodded and squished across the lawn toward the old ranch house.
Jack pushed to his feet, his knee cracking thanks to an old rodeo injury, and faced the woman at eye level. Well, almost eye level. Though tall for a woman, she was still a good five or six inches shorter than his six foot one. He recognized her as the woman he’d seen earlier lurking in the foyer, practically casing the main house. “And you are...?”
He suspected she was a reporter, based on the messenger bag hanging from her shoulder, though why a reporter would need to speak privately with him was beyond him. He had nothing to say to any reporter, privately or otherwise.
She took a deep breath and nervously wet her lips. “Tracy McCain.”
The name didn’t ring any bells, but when she extended her hand in greeting, he shook it.
She added a shy smile, her porcelain cheeks flushing, and a stir of attraction tickled Jack deep inside. Hell, more than a stir. He gave her a leisurely scrutiny, sizing her up. She might be tall and thin, but she still had womanly curves to go with her delicate china-doll face. “Am I supposed to know you?”
Her smile dropped. “Laura never mentioned me?”
His ex-wife’s name instantly raised his hackles and his defenses. His eyes narrowed. “Not that I recall. How do you know Laura?”
“I’m her cousin. Her maternal aunt’s daughter. From Colorado Springs.”
Jack gritted his back teeth. Laura had been dead only a few months and already relations she’d never mentioned were crawling out of the woodwork like roaches after the light’s turned off. The allure of the Colton wealth had attracted more than one gold-digging pest over the years. “You should know, Laura signed an agreement when we divorced. She got a tidy settlement in place of any alimony. The agreement meant she gave up any further financial claim on Colton money or the Lucky C.”
Tracy lifted her chin. “I’m aware.”
“So you’re barking up the wrong tree, if you’re looking for cash.”
Tracy blinked her pale blue eyes, and her expression shifted, hardened. “I’m not after money,” she said, with frost in her tone.
Jack scratched his chin and tipped his head, giving her a skeptical glare. “Then what?”
She waved a hand toward the house, then, as if realizing they’d have no more privacy inside than here by the pool, she frowned. “Is there someplace quiet we can talk?”
Ten minutes ago, Jack had been dying for an excuse to ditch Abra’s party. Now he had the excuse he’d been looking for, but his gut told him he’d be no better off hearing Miss Blue Eyes out.
“Fine.” He huffed an exasperated sigh and headed across the lawn, leaving her to follow or not. Her choice.
The main house was a good distance from the stable, barn, bunkhouse and other outbuildings— two miles by the dirt road, a little less if you cut across fields and grassy lawns. He had driven one of the ranch’s utility vehicles over to the party, but some peevish rebellion in him decided to walk now. If Tracy wanted to talk to him, she could hoof it to the stable. Ninety-five degree Oklahoma heat and gravel road be damned.
He walked too quickly for her to match his long-legged stride, but to her credit, she didn’t fall too far behind. As they neared the stable, cutting across a corner of one of the holding pens, he aimed a finger at one of the many cow patties, warning, “Watch your step.”
She drew a quick breath and took a last-minute side step to avoid a pile. For what it was worth. Her modest brown dress pumps were caked in mud, the heels likely ruined by the gravel. Jack experienced a moment of compunction for her destroyed shoes, but he pushed it aside. She should have known better than to wear shoes like that to a ranch.
He wiped sweat from his brow as he entered the shade of the stable, where large fans circulated the scents of manure, straw and leather in the stuffy alley between horse stalls. In a shady corner of an empty stall, their black barn cat, Sleek, napped between hunting expeditions. The family wanted Sleek to catch mice, which she did, but the feline seemed more interested in birds...and sneaking into the old ranch house to sleep on Seth’s bed when Jack wasn’t looking.
Jack gave a pat to one of the mares, which stuck her nose out as he passed, then made his way to Buck’s stall. His buckskin gelding tossed his black mane when Jack opened the stall door and led him out.
When Tracy caught up to him, she was breathing heavily and perspiration rolled down her face and neck. The fine, sweat-dampened hair around her temples and ears curled in sweet golden ringlets, and over the musty smell of the stable, a floral scent wafted to him with the fan’s breeze. The sweet aroma was completely out of place here, much like the woman wearing the perfume, and the heady scent made lust curl in his belly. Her stylish khaki slacks and simple print blouse were more suited to a boardroom than a tack room, and Tracy’s knitted brow as she scanned the horse stalls spoke for her uneasiness on his turf.
He took a currycomb from a shelf and started grooming Buck. “You wanted privacy, you got it. So talk.”
She let the messenger bag slide off her arm and thud onto a nearby bench. “There wasn’t anyplace...closer?” she panted.
He shrugged. “Sure there was. But I figured if I could groom ole Buck while we talked, I could get a jump on my to-do list for the day.”
And if he kept himself busy combing Buck, maybe he wouldn’t be as easily distracted by her lush lips and doe-like blue eyes. Her fragile, china-doll appearance made her seem vulnerable, and until he knew what she was after, Jack didn’t want to feel any weakness or sympathy toward her.
She dabbed ineffectually at her damp cheeks and brow, then flapped the front of her blouse, trying to cool down. “Okay, so...I wanted to talk about Seth.”
Jack tensed, his gut filling with acid. He squeezed the currycomb with a death grip and grated, “No.”
“I... What do you mean, no? You haven’t even heard what I want to—”
“I don’t need to hear. My son is off-limits. Nonnegotiable.” With an effort, Jack loosened his grip on the currycomb and continued stroking Buck’s beige hide.
Tracy was silent for a moment, shifting her weight and swatting at a horsefly that was as drawn to her perfume as Jack was.
“All I want is the opportunity to get to know my cousin’s son. I want Seth to know things about Laura that he might not know.”
Jack shook his head and aimed the currycomb at Tracy. “He knows all he needs to know, and I won’t have you filling his head with information that will lead to questions best left alone, or truths about his mother that will only hurt him.”
Tracy straightened her spine, her expression affronted. “I have no intention of hurting him. I... What would I say about his mother that would hurt Seth?”
“The truth. She abandoned him when he was a baby.”
“Abandoned?” Tracy chuffed a humorless laugh. “She did no such thing!”
Jack paused from the grooming to face her, cocking his head. “Really? What would you call it?”
“Laura loved Seth!” Tracy clapped a hand to her chest, pleading her case with wide, earnest eyes. “She did what she thought was best for him. She saw that he’d have a better life here on the Lucky C with you and your family than she could give him as an unemployed single mother. She never forgot a birthday, always sent Christmas presents—”
He scoffed. “You can’t buy a kid’s affection. Presents are no substitute for being there.”
“I know that. And...so did she.” Tracy looked at the ground as she said the last, not sounding at all sure of her claim.
“Doesn’t matter. I didn’t give him her gifts or cards.”
Tracy’s chin jerked up. “What? Why not?”
“It would have only confused him.”
Now she tilted her head to the side, her eyes suspicious. “Confused him why?”
“I told Seth his mother died when he was a baby.”
Tracy gasped in outrage.
Jack turned back to Buck and patted the gelding’s neck. “I thought that would be easier for him to handle than knowing she chose to walk away.”
“She didn’t— You shouldn’t—” Tracy sputtered. “You had as much to do with her leaving as she did! You knew she wasn’t suited to ranch life. You encouraged her to go her own way when you saw how unhappy she was.”
Jack gritted his back teeth, feeling a knot in his stomach. The failure of his marriage was the last thing he wanted to rehash today...or ever. Seth was the only good thing that came out of his years with Laura. He took a slow breath and swallowed the bitter taste at the back of his throat. “Water under the bridge,” he said in a low, even tone.
He raised the currycomb to continue his work, but Tracy strode over and caught his wrist. “Would you stop that long enough to hear me out? My cousin was not the monster you’re making her out to be!”
He heaved a put-upon sigh and tossed the currycomb aside. “No one said she was a monster,” he said under his breath. Then, only a little louder, he added, “I wouldn’t have married her if she were a monster. She had her good points, and at one time, I thought I loved her.”
He angled a look over his shoulder at Tracy. She was swiping at the sweat on her face with her wrist, her pale skin flushed from the heat. He stepped over to the shelf where he kept his personal tack equipment and fished a bandanna out of his saddlebag. He held it out to her, and she eyed it suspiciously. “It’s clean. I promise.”
With a murmured thank-you, she dried her face and neck, and ambled closer to a fan so the current of air blew in her face. “As I was saying...I want the chance to spend time with Seth, to get to know him. After Laura died, I promised her...” Tracy paused and swallowed hard. To his dismay, Jack thought he saw tears fill her eyes. God, no tears! Please! He hated seeing a woman cry. Tears were worse than splinters under his fingernails, and he’d do anything to avoid them.
After a slow breath, Tracy seemed more composed—thank the Lord—and continued. “I promised Laura that I would make sure her son knew how much she loved him, the kind of woman she was and everything she did for me. She deserves that.”
Jack folded his arms over his chest and leaned against a wall. “What she did for you?”
Tracy nodded. “The day of the car accident that killed her...”
“Yeah?”
“...she was helping me. I was in the car with her when she died. She’d saved me from a really bad situation, helped me escape...” Tracy wet her lips and glanced away for a moment before continuing. “The man who ran us off the road was my husband.”
Clenching his jaw, Jack recalled what he’d been told about the accident. “He was arrested for vehicular manslaughter. Right?”
She nodded.
“So he’s in jail now?”
“He was. But...he was shanked the second night he was in jail and died on the way to the hospital.”
Jack arched one eyebrow. He hadn’t known that tidbit. “I’m sorry.”
A sad smile tugged the corner of her mouth. “I’m not.”
Jack stared at her. Read between the lines. “He abused you.” It was a statement, not a question. Abuse would explain a lot of the vulnerability he sensed with her.
She said nothing for a minute. Finally, her shoulders slumped, and she nodded. “Verbally. Mentally. He was spiteful and mean. Loved making me cry for sport.”
Jack felt a hot ball of rage well in his gut toward the man.
“He only hit me once, though.”
Jack barked a laugh of disbelief. “Just once?”
Her eyes rounded, and she took a step back. “Y-yeah.”
“As if that makes it all right or wins him points?” He drilled a finger at her. “Once is one time too many.”
Her hand fluttered to her throat, where she dabbed again at the sweat collecting there. “I agree. But my point is...I owe Laura. I know how much Seth meant to her and how much it would mean to her—how much it would mean to me—if I could spend some time with her son.”
Jack rubbed the bridge of his nose. “For what purpose? So he can have another woman walk out of his life in a few days?”
“Who said I wanted to walk out? I don’t have a child of my own. Maybe I’m looking for something long-term, something permanent.”
Ice slid through Jack’s blood, and he lurched away from the wall. “Excuse me?”
Tracy blinked, confused. “I said I wouldn’t walk out on him. I want—”
“If you’re looking to sue for custody or visitation rights, you should know that the divorce agreement Laura signed denies her or her family the right to come back here and try to take Seth from me.”
Jack stalked toward Tracy until she’d backed against the far alley wall, and he loomed over her. “Seth is mine. All mine. I have sole custody, and that’s how it’s gonna stay.”
She hunched her shoulders, trying to make herself smaller, and he realized how his power play must have appeared to her. Intimidating, threatening, hostile... Okay, he had meant to intimidate her and drive home his point. But he’d forgotten for a moment how that tactic would play with an abused woman. Damn it!
He eased back a step, giving her breathing room, while still making his point that he was unyielding on the question of custody. He would fight her to his last dollar to keep his son. When he drew a calming lungful of air, he inhaled the sweet scent of her. Heat unrelated to the summer temperatures skittered through him. His pulse kicked harder as he imagined what it might be like to pin her against the wall and kiss her full, frowning lips. Standing this close to her, he could see her chin quiver and hear the agitated rasp of her breathing. Damn the man who’d scarred her psyche this way! And damn himself for finding Tracy so alluring, so sweetly sexy and begging for protection.
He was far more likely to need protection from her and her plans for Seth than she needed protecting.
“I don’t want to take him from you.” Her voice trembled, and when she raised her gaze, he saw moisture in her eyes. But also defiance. “I don’t want to be at odds with you on this matter but...if I have to go to court to win the right to see Seth—” her throat convulsed as she swallowed “—I will.”
