Читать книгу The Rancher's Legacy - Jessica Keller - Страница 14

When Rhett padded into the kitchen at the family ranch the next morning, Shannon offered him a cup of coffee with a sad smile.

He declined. Shannon consumed at least six cups of the stuff a day, but Rhett had never taken to it. That hardly stopped his sister from trying to get him to drink it whenever she could.

However, he wished he was a coffee drinker because it had been a long night.

Rhett bit back a yawn. “Does Mom walk the halls yelling like that often?”

Shannon nodded, swiping at her eyes. Then she took a long swig from her mug.

Guilt stabbed through Rhett’s chest. Strong and palpable.

For the last three years he’d been gone, running Straight Arrow Retrievers, his dog-training business more than a hundred miles away from Red Dog Ranch. For his mom’s sake, Rhett had made a shaky truce with his dad and had visited the ranch a few weekends a year. It had been difficult to find days to visit when Macy wasn’t going to be on property or he would have visited more often. Foolish now that he thought about all he had missed. All for stubborn pride. He had missed his mother’s decline, missed so many days when he could have been spending time with her. Rhett rubbed his jaw.

He had kept in touch with Shannon, Cassidy and Piper with phone calls and video chats and they had often made the trip out his way for visits when he hadn’t been able to come home.

But he hadn’t been around when his mom had started showing symptoms. Hadn’t gone along to the countless doctor appointments. Hadn’t been a part of the discussion when her plan of care was decided. And having only been back living in the family house for three days, Rhett scarcely knew how to speak to his mother any longer.

Dementia.

Such a small word for such a life-altering disease.

Before now the extent of his knowledge had sadly been gleaned from TV ads that rattled off more about the dangers of the marketed drug than actually showing the truth of the illness. Commercials that depicted smiling elderly people watching their grandchildren play or sitting hand in hand with their equally elderly spouse.

All lies.

Rhett hadn’t been at Red Dog Ranch to watch his mom’s mind deteriorate, but Shannon had. Boone had too, up until he had enrolled in a divinity school last year, moving his wife and daughter out of state in the process.

Rhett opened his mouth to say something to Shannon but closed it just as quickly. What was there to say? “I’m sorry” sounded small. Too little, too late.

Six months ago Brock had hired a nurse to be with Mom during the day while he was working and he managed her care at night, but now with Brock gone...they needed to figure something out. Rhett made a mental note to pull out his mom’s insurance information and check over the plan to see what it would cover. The day nurse always arrived before breakfast every morning, but Rhett needed to look into the possibility of having someone with her at night, as well.

Ever present, Kodiak followed him to the fridge.

“Not much in there,” Shannon offered. “You’d do better to head to the mess hall. Cassidy does most of the staff meals there.” She jerked her chin to indicate the direction of the mess hall. It was located where the biggest hills began to roll through their property. Their father had insisted on building the dining hall there so that a huge, long basement could be constructed into the hill. All the nonperishable bulk food used to cook staff meals and feed the kids who came for summer camp could be stored there in a cooler environment without wasting tons of energy. The concrete basement also served as a great spot to find momentary relief from the heat of summer. Brock had searched for a contractor who would build into the shape of the land like that for a long time. Basements were rare in Texas.

His mom shuffled into the room, her hand resting on her nurse’s arm. Rhett had seen plenty of his parents’ wedding photos and snapshots of their dating history to know that his mother had always been a beautiful woman and maybe even a touch regal in how she carried herself. Now in her midsixties, he thought she looked a bit like the actress Helen Mirren. Outwardly she appeared healthy, but her pale blue eyes told the real story...she looked through him vacantly. She smiled pleasantly at him, almost blandly, as the red-haired nurse helped her into her chair.

A large common room made up the heart of their home. Vaulted ceilings with exposed beams gave the house a grand bearing, and a stone fireplace in the sitting room only added to that feeling. Every stone had been mined from Jarrett-held land. The kitchen flowed directly into a dining room and the large sitting area. In the sitting area, the wall without the fireplace boasted two-story-high floor-to-ceiling windows. From Mom’s vantage point, she could gaze out to the wide lake where he took Kodiak for her swims and beyond into a field of bluebonnets.

Her chair looked as if it was about to swallow her petite frame. As she gazed around the room, her eyes never really landed on anything in particular. It struck Rhett that she looked lost.

Lost and scared.

His throat felt as if someone had stuffed a bale of hay down it, followed by some of the pebbles that made up the driveway. Rhett swallowed hard, once, twice, three times before he could get any words out. “How are you this morning?”

She pursed her lips. “Do you know where Brock is? I’ve looked everywhere but, by the cat’s yarn, I can’t find him.”

Rhett glanced at Shannon, who gave an infinitesimal shake of her head. Don’t tell her. Don’t correct her about Dad. Don’t correct her at all. Shannon had gone over the rules with him in regard to how to deal with Mom a handful of times in the days since he’d been back. But every time Mom asked... Well, someone might as well have kicked him in the stomach while wearing steel-toed boots. And then sucker-punched him in the jaw for good measure afterward.

Their mom had been present at the wake and funeral. She’d wept with Boone and Rhett each on either side of her, holding her up. She knew.

But right now, she didn’t. Her mind was living in the safer Land of Before.

He wouldn’t lie to his mother, but he’d learned quickly there was no reason to cause her undue emotional trauma either.

Rhett cleared his throat. “I haven’t seen him in some time.”

True. Far too true.

His mother dipped her head. With shaking fingers she traced a swirling pattern into the armrest of her oversized chair. “He’s probably off somewhere with Wade, don’t you think? It feels like forever since I saw my baby boy.”

Shannon’s coffee mug clattered against the kitchen island’s stone countertop. She braced a hand on the counter and the other was pressed against her heart. “She mentions him—” her whispered voice broke “—all the time. I can’t...” Her shoulders trembled as she hurried out of the kitchen.

Rhett wanted to go after her, but what comfort could he really offer? The family had lost Wade when he was only nineteen years old. Nothing he would say to his sister could change the truth of what had occurred. Wade was gone and Rhett couldn’t make the anguish of losing her twin disappear.

Grief over Wade threatened to swallow Rhett in equal measure to what he felt over losing his father. Wade had stormed off spewing hurtful words at the whole family the day Rhett had cornered him, confronting Wade about every horrible thing Wade was involved in.

You know what? Don’t worry. You’ll never have to see my pathetic face again. Wade’s final words came back to bite Rhett. His brother had left the ranch and headed straight for the Gulf of Mexico and boarded a small party boat. When the boat capsized everyone on board had been too intoxicated to get off in time, to radio for help.

Wade had been right. They never got to see his face again.

Brock had blamed Rhett for Wade’s death. Rhett shouldn’t have spoken to his brother that way. Wade would still be with them if Rhett hadn’t confronted him. But Rhett had shot back that it was Brock’s fault for allowing Wade to flounder for so long, allowing him to go down a wrong path years before he drowned. For investing more into the nonprofit at the ranch than his own son.

Rhett and his dad had never completely patched the bridge between them after that. Rhett walking away from the ranch had only solidified the tension in the relationship. If given the chance, Rhett would have handled both Wade and his father differently.

There were things Rhett would take back if he could.

So many things.

But right now he could only move forward. Do better. Be present.

Rhett shifted from one foot to the other. “I believe you’re right, Mom, about Wade and Dad being together.” His voice caught on the last word and he prayed she wouldn’t notice.

She folded her hands in her lap and looked toward the lake. “Just as I thought. Still...” Her voice trailed off for a heartbeat. “I’m looking forward to when Wade comes back. I long for the day you and him are in the same room together again.”

“Mom,” Rhett said, keeping his voice even. “Wade may never come home.”

“Don’t you say something so horrible.” His mom met his gaze. “He will. My boy will.”

Before he left the house Rhett pressed a kiss to his mom’s forehead, made sure she didn’t need anything else and checked in with the nurse, Louisa. He should have headed straight to the mess hall, but his boots pointed south of there, in the direction of the little white chapel his father had built soon after he started Camp Firefly.

Rhett checked his phone. He was so used to having it on silent because the ring tones and even the vibrate setting interfered with training dogs. Most of them he trained using whistles and other noises so distractions were unwelcome. He had texts from a few of his clients who had been in the middle of sessions when his dad had passed so he’d put them on hold. They’d been patient, but training built week by week and he needed to either continue with them or send them to a new trainer, or else the dogs would lose their momentum.

Rhett made a split-second decision—offering them time slots if they were willing to come out to the ranch and refunding them if they didn’t want to drive so far. One client texted back immediately, confirming a time slot for the next day. They were eager because they already had their dog signed up for contests. Two more asked for refunds and referrals to other trainers.

As he approached the church, he noticed that someone had used large white stones to outline a path leading to the chapel’s front door. It was set up on the hill nearest to the mess hall. A wide cross had been erected on the hill years before the chapel’s creation. At the end of each camp session, his father had the kids write on rocks the last night and lay them at the foot of the cross—usually a word symbolizing something they were trusting God for.

Distantly, he wondered if they’d kept up that practice after the church had been built. Would he have to lead that ceremony this summer?

Rhett tested the door. Open. He slipped inside, slid off his hat and stooped to dodge the end of the bell rope. Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, painting the dull brown carpeting with a brilliant prism of colors.

Do you know the heart of God in this matter? Have you sought that out, son?

Of course he hadn’t. If he sought out what God wanted...it wasn’t worth it. If the Bible was true—and Rhett believed it was—God seemed to ask for dangerous, impossible things. Rhett was trying so hard to keep himself together, he couldn’t afford dangerous faith right now.

Rhett gripped the edge of a pew. He hadn’t willingly set foot inside a church in five years. Not since learning about Wade’s death. His father’s funeral had been held in a church, but he didn’t count that time. He had entered that church out of duty, not choice.

If Rhett’s own father—his flesh and blood—hadn’t cared enough to know about his dreams and worries, he couldn’t imagine God would either. Much like Brock had been, God was busy with far more important things than Rhett and his heart. After all, God had a universe to run. Rhett’s small slice of the world hardly measured up to that. And he couldn’t blame God for not concerning Himself with what must be Rhett’s miniscule burdens in the very grand scale of human history. But it sure made Rhett want to keep his distance.

Rhett considered himself a Christian, but he certainly didn’t like to bother God.

“You may not care about me, and that’s fine.” A wash of embarrassment flooded through Rhett at the idea of talking out loud, but he pressed on. “But Shannon... Please...could You be there for Shannon? She’s been through a lot and I don’t know how to help her. And Mom, God, please. It’s hard. Seeing her that way.”

The weight of so many new responsibilities sagged onto his shoulders. His father’s death hadn’t only made the ranch his obligation, but in a very real way Rhett had become the head of the Jarrett family. A role he wasn’t sure he was cut out for. Between worrying over what his mother needed and his concerns for Shannon, he already felt stretched thin.

And then there was Macy. Macy touching his arm by the lake last night. Macy saying she was there if he needed her. Macy studying him with those large brown eyes that seemed to know everything about him. Rhett swallowed hard. Working alongside her was going to be difficult because the truth was, he missed his friend.

But he couldn’t forget that he’d offered her a job at his business and when she’d showed up on his doorstep it was to turn him down, to pick the ranch—to pick his dad—over being near him. Worse, when he had tried to usher her inside so they could talk things over she had grabbed his shirt and kissed him—a kiss he had never known he had wanted until that point but afterward had never been able to get out of his head.

Then Macy had run off.

Rhett had left messages for two weeks. Messages she hadn’t returned.

Now he had to see her every day and it was hard to forget their old friendship, the jokes they had shared over the years. That kiss.

Kodiak whimpered behind him.

Attempting to alleviate the tightness building in his chest, he blew out a long stream of air.

It didn’t help.

* * *

Macy wrapped her fingers around the mug in her hands and prayed she wasn’t making a huge mistake.

From the wide bank of windows in the mess hall, she had watched Rhett veer off the walkway and head toward the chapel. Witnessed him duck inside. The minutes had ticked by and curiosity had gotten the better of her.

Patience might be a virtue, but it was one that Macy sorely lacked.

Now in front of the chapel, she rested her hand on the doorknob and sucked in a fortifying breath.

Rhett did not want her friendship—he’d made that crystal clear last night—but coworkers should be civil to each other. An employee could check and see how her boss was doing without it meaning friendship, right?

Besides, she knew him too well to ignore the fact that he was obviously under a lot of stress. Her heart went out to him. If only she could convince him to share his burdens. He didn’t have to manage everything alone. He wasn’t alone at all.

She opened the door and let it close with a thump behind her so as not to startle him with her presence. He swiveled around in his seat. His hair was sticking out in adorable angles, reminding her of old times when he’d been a sleepy, hopeful boy swapping secrets with her around the campfire instead of the serious man he’d grown into. An awful twinge of longing stirred through her. She missed the Rhett who had been all dreams and optimism. He had changed once he hit high school, closing up a little more with each football game his father failed to show up to. Each broken promise.

But his hair wasn’t sleep mussed. The particular style he was sporting at the moment had been caused by him grabbing the tips of his hair and yanking as he thought through something. She’d seen him do it enough times to recognize the signs.

“I can leave.” He rose and put his hat on. Ever beside him, the large dog stood when he did. “It’s all yours.”

She held her free hand up in a stop motion. “I came to see you.”

His left eyebrow arched.

“Here.” She extended the mug and walked down the aisle. “A peace offering.”

“What are we making peace for?”

“Last night at the lake.”

His large dog edged to sit a few inches in front of the toes of his boots as if the beast was concerned that Macy might try some ninja-attack move on Rhett at any second. As far as Macy could tell, the animal had appointed itself as Rhett’s personal guard.

As if a man with muscles like Rhett needed one.

“Is that thing safe?” Macy looked down at the dog.

He nodded. “She won’t do anything unless I tell her to.”

She handed Rhett the mug. “Earl Grey Crème black.”

His features immediately softened and he cocked his head as he accepted the mug. “You remembered my favorite tea?”

“Your favorite drink,” she corrected. Unlike most of the cowboys and staff at Red Dog Ranch, Rhett had never taken to coffee. After she’d tried the Earl Grey Crème black tea that he preferred, she had to admit it was delicious. It was a perfect balance of milk, sugar, vanilla and bergamot flavors while still delivering a welcome kick of caffeine.

My dad cared more about those foster kids than he did about his own flesh and blood.

Regret formed a lump in her throat. She glanced at the light bleeding through the stained glass windows, then glanced back at Rhett. “I’m sorry. Last night when I brought up the foster programs and your dad... I know that still hurts.”

He blew out a long stream of air, looked away. Nodded to accept her apology.

A part of Macy wanted to tell Rhett that Brock had loved him and the rest of his family. Maybe Brock had been bad at showing it, but they had been his life. His passion for foster kids had bloomed from his love of family—he’d wanted to give kids without homes the same opportunities and security that his children had been afforded.

But right now wasn’t the time.

With Brock gone, it might never be the right time.

Macy searched for a way to connect with Rhett, anything that could encourage conversation. She needed to establish easy communication between the two of them so they could work alongside each other for the best of the ranch. And if she was being honest, her heart squeezed at the sight of her oldest friend looking so...lost. Despite what he had said last night, she wanted to connect—wanted him to know he wasn’t alone.

Her gaze landed on his dog. Perfect.

“So, when did you acquire your ever-present shadow?” She smiled, hoping he could see the words were kindly meant.

“Kodiak.” The dog perked up when he said her name. It was a good name for her because the dog’s coat was the same red-brown color of a Kodiak bear. Her fur went slightly curly near her neck and back haunches.

Rhett grinned down at Kodiak and stroked behind her ears. “She was a training failure.” His voice was warm. “Weren’t you, girl?”

“She looks well trained to me.”

His smile dimmed when he looked away from Kodiak to meet Macy’s gaze. “What I mean is, her owner brought her to me to be trained and then she bonded to me and refused to go back with her owner.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not generally seen as a good thing.”

“Well, she seems happy with the arrangement,” Macy said.

“Her breed is extremely loyal.” Kodiak let out a groan, protesting at the absence of his pets. “So once they pick their person it’s an almost impossible bond to sever.” He relented and tapped his fingertips on her head. “The breed can be hardheaded.”

“Her breed?”

“She’s a Chessie.” He must have noticed Macy’s confusion. “Sorry, that’s dogspeak for a Chesapeake Bay retriever. People hear the retriever part and think they’ll be like Labs or goldens, who love everyone and everything, but Chessies aren’t like that. They’re affectionate with their family but are extremely protective and don’t warm to strangers easily.”

As if to demonstrate what Rhett was talking about, Kodiak butted her head against Rhett’s knee but kept her yellow eyes trained on Macy the whole time. The dog was definitely suspicious of her.

Macy inched back a half step. “Does that happen a lot? Training failure?”

“Thankfully, she was my only one. But her owner was my first client when I started the business so failing on the first one...” He rubbed his chin. “Well, let’s just say that was like a bull kick to the ego. I almost thought about turning tail and coming home.” He cleared his throat. “Back here, I mean.”

She’d never known he considered returning to Red Dog Ranch.

“Rhett, that last time we saw each other...” Macy said.

When I kissed you.

Rhett held up a hand. “We’re different people than we were three years ago, Mace. I don’t see the point of backtracking down that road.”

When her boyfriend had broken up with her, she’d driven the hundred miles. She’d shown up on Rhett’s doorstep. He had thought she was there about the job he’d offered her, but she had grabbed his shirt and yanked him into a kiss. She would never be able to forget how his body had gone rigid. He hadn’t returned the kiss and, when she broke away quickly, his eyes had been wide, horrified. “Why did you do that?” he’d asked. Repeated it twice.

And she had turned around and run back to her car. Too mortified to face him for months afterward. It had been the action of a woman who had read a man wrong.

So completely wrong.

Rhett had never cared for her. Not like that.

Not like she’d wanted him to.

Macy rubbed her thumb over the jagged scar on her pointer finger. “Why didn’t you come back home? After Kodiak, I mean?”

He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “There was nothing to come back to.”

I’m not looking for friendship again, Mace. Not with you.

Macy tugged her inner shield closer in an attempt to make his words bounce off of her harmlessly, but they went around her defenses and struck the tender places left in her heart. She’d thought she had walled off the part of her that cared about Rhett—about all men—because she knew there were no romantic relationships waiting in her future. Not now, not ever. If Rhett, who had known her better than anyone in the world, could see her completely and find her lacking...could not want her...then no one would.

No one wanted Macy Howell. Not for the long haul. Not her father, not the ex-boyfriend who had started the fight between her and Rhett three years ago and not her closest friend.

Why didn’t anyone ever fight to be with her? What made her not worth it?

Because something’s wrong with you.

Hot shame poured through her body.

Macy took another step back and fought the warring desires to slam her finger into Rhett’s chest as she gave him a piece of her mind or to turn and run so she could go lick her wounds in private. But if she wanted to help the foster kids, she couldn’t do either. She needed to be able to work with him, talk to him.

Relax. This isn’t personal. It will never be personal again.

She forced a long drag of air through her nose.

Macy might not matter to anyone, but she could make her life matter by fighting for the kids. By making sure Rhett didn’t end up cutting the programs they all looked forward to.

She let a breath rattle out of her. “Kodiak’s a good fit here.” There, back to a safe topic. Macy gestured toward Kodiak. “Red dog. She could be the ranch’s mascot.”

Rhett frowned. “She’s brown.”

Macy narrowed her eyes, pretending to examine Kodiak. “It’s definitely a reddish brown.” She wrapped her fingers over her opposite elbow.

Kodiak looked up at Rhett with such adoration.

“You were always fond of dogs,” Macy said. “I guess training them was a given.”

“Dogs make sense.” He shrugged. “You don’t have to be anyone special to gain their loyalty. A dog is simple to figure out. They only ask for kindness and time spent together.”

“And treats.”

He smiled. “And treats.”

She hugged her stomach as she watched him walk out of the chapel, her mind roiling with so many emotions it was difficult to sort through them. But one thing was certain: it was going to be near impossible not to fall for Rhett Jarrett all over again.