Читать книгу This Cowboy's Son - Mary Sullivan - Страница 8

JENNY JUMPED into her beater car and sped from the ranch.

Ten minutes later, she drove down the long driveway of the Sheltering Arms and pulled up in front of the house. The grounds were neat as a pin, as usual.

She walked to the nearest corral where a couple of mares chewed on the grass under the fence.

Jenny combed one horse’s mane with her fingers, and took comfort from the animal’s solid bulk.

She liked the simplicity of animals, of dealing with them. They had no problem offering loyalty and then sticking with it.

Children’s voices in the stable rose and fell in playful cadence. She thought she heard Jesse’s voice among them. He loved playing with the kids Hank brought to the ranch.

Her nerves hummed. Jesse didn’t know who his father was. She’d managed to dodge that bullet for four years now. He hadn’t asked yet, but he would.

When she and Angus married, she planned to tell her son that Angus was his father. Jesse would be satisfied with that. He loved Angus.

But what about when he got older, old enough to guess differently?

I’ll deal with that when it happens.

Jenny blew a soft breath through her lips. She had to believe her marriage to Angus would work.

A mess of poorly dressed kids ran out of the stable. Jenny approached them. Some kids had holes in the toes of their sneakers, or knees worn out of their pants. They all wore baseball caps with Sheltering Arms written across the front. They were inner-city children recovering from cancer and Hank Shelter was giving them three weeks of pure, unadulterated fun. Hank took in a pack of kids every single month, year-round.

Knowing their father’s drill by heart, Hank’s two children, four-year-old Michael and three-year-old Cheryl, led the pack. When Amy first came to the Sheltering Arms, a small girl was visiting who had become precious to both Hank and Amy. They’d been devastated when she died, and later named their daughter Cheryl in her honor.

Another little boy, with a head full of beautiful blond locks and long blond eyelashes that would do a girl proud, ran with them. Jesse. Jenny’s heart swelled, as it always did when she saw him.

“Jesse!” She waved and her son’s smile lit up his face. He ran across the yard and threw himself full force into her arms. Jenny caught him, laughing while she stumbled to keep her balance.

Oh, you rare gem. Oh, my little sweetheart.

She hugged the bundle of energy so hard he finally complained.

“Mo-o-om. I can’t breathe.”

Jenny loosened her grip and carried her son in her arms with his legs wrapped around her waist, like a little monkey.

She waved to Hank and his children.

“Hey, Jenny,” Hank called. Sometimes Jenny missed working for Hank. Sometimes she missed working with the children.

That morning after Jenny and Matt spent the night together, Hank had lost a good ranch hand in Matt. A year later, he’d also lost Jenny.

Most days, though, she was happy to be home, on her family’s ranch, even if she didn’t own it. Yet.

That would change the day she married Angus. Then half of it would be hers, and someday in the future, Jesse and any brothers and sisters Jenny and Angus made for him, would own the whole thing.

“I’m taking Jesse home now. See you later.”

Hank waved back.

“Hank’s got a baby horse,” Jesse chattered. “He let me pet him. Hannah gave us nimistrome for lunch.”

“Minestrone?”

“Uh-huh. It was good ’cept for the beans. Mikey said they make him fart.”

Jenny chuffed out a laugh.

Jesse fiddled with the gold chain she wore. “I made a friend. Stacey.”

Jenny’s throat constricted. He was getting so big, no longer looked a toddler, but more a little boy. Too fast. She was in a weird mood today. Off balance because of Matt.

Some days it felt as if she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. Keeping secrets could do that to a person, but she was about to unburden herself of the biggest one. She hoped she would feel better after that.

As she held her son in her arms, smelling the hot, active-kid scent of him that she loved, she thought, What am I going to do about you and your father? You were never supposed to meet him.

She silently cursed Angus for contacting Matt, Matt for agreeing to come back, and her parents for losing her ranch in the first place. She knew she wasn’t being rational, so she forced herself to relax, then kissed the top of her son’s head. There were some things well worth being thankful for.

She shouldn’t be angry with her parents. They’d done their best. Dad had tried everything to save their ranch, had even started a quarry that had scarred part of the land.

She shifted Jesse a little higher on her hip and walked to the car. She should put him down. He was four years old, after all, but she wanted him close for a few minutes, though.

Matt was back.

What a cowpie-kicking mess. But this was one mess she was taking care of for good.

UNSETTLED AND TIRED, Matt threw his belongings onto a bed at the near end of the bunkhouse. Coming back to Ordinary was harder than he had reckoned it would be.

Driving in from Wyoming, he’d thought the trip was long. Then, all of a sudden, he’d arrived and had to face too much.

He hadn’t wanted to see Jenny. He’d planned to steer well clear of the Sheltering Arms, but she was here on the Circle K. Worse still, she was foreman and she was marrying Angus. What a snafu.

He’d just seen her drive off the ranch in a small silver car. At least he’d have a few minutes of peace until she returned.

Matt wanted to forget that night, and that he’d ever told Jenny he loved her.

He didn’t want to be reminded of how much he’d missed her in the past five years and the friendship they’d had before that night. Nor did he want to admit how much he’d missed this place and how it was all tangled up with his relationship with Jenny.

She’d been his anchor for years, since he was a kid. She’d watched over him. Then they’d had sex, he’d split, and he’d missed her and Ordinary more than he’d thought possible.

Matt wished he could turn around and beat a track out of here, to get away from his love-hate relationship with this community, but he couldn’t leave.

He owed Angus too much money. No way could he let him down.

Why not? Angus let you down. He’s marrying Jenny.

So what? You were never going to marry her. Jenny and Angus are free to marry each other.

Yeah, but still…

Still what?

I don’t know.

He didn’t want to have to deal with Jenny, had spent five years purging her from his mind.

A decrepit sofa sat at the far end of the bunkhouse, decorated with brown wagon wheels and rearing horses on graying beige.

Matt sank into its soft cushions that had accommodated too many rear ends over its life, of the men who’d made Angus’s ranch their home for weeks, months or years at a time.

He turned on the small TV, flipped through the channels, then turned it off and tossed the remote onto the scratched coffee table.

An ancient olive-green fridge and stove and a deep freezer made up what might be loosely called a kitchen area.

Matt jumped up and left the bunkhouse. After a while, these places all started to look the same, a blur of lumpy beds and cobbled-together secondhand furniture.

He walked across the yard in search of Angus, remembering when he used to come here as an adolescent, hiding on the low hill above the yard, in the stand of a dozen or so cotoneasters across the top. This ranch had come to be a magical place for him, a spot where parents knew how to make happy families.

Lilacs lined one side of the two-story house. Their scent wafted across the veranda. He stepped through the screen door and entered a foyer that was a few degrees cooler than the sunlit yard.

Maybe in some ways it was good to be back. He closed his eyes and inhaled.

It smelled clean, like lemon and potpourri.

Matt had spent time inside this house as a teenager. He’d loved it. Back then, it had smelled like cigars and fried food.

Far as he could tell, nothing much else had changed. The screen door let in a breeze that ruffled dried flowers in an arrangement on a table by the door.

He didn’t remember Angus having a fondness for flowers. Jenny’s influence, maybe? Naw, not likely. Jenny Sterling’s name was listed under “tomboy” in the dictionary.

He walked down the hall, passing the living room on his right and the dining room on the left, both filled with oversize dark furniture.

He continued down the hall and spotted Angus sitting behind his desk in the office.

“Hey, Angus.” Matt stepped into the room, a smile spreading across his face. This man had saved him, had just flat out saved him all those years ago.

Angus glanced up from the books he was working on and grinned when he saw Matt. He came around the desk and they met in a man-hug, right hands meeting in a bone-crunching handshake and left hands slapping each other’s backs.

Matt was so damn glad to see Angus. The past five years had been filled with close acquaintances and a lot of strangers. But friends? No. It was good to touch a friend.

“Matt, it’s great to see you.” Angus’s voice sounded rough, wet.

“You, too.” Matt moved to pull away, but Angus hung on and Matt started to choke up. He knew why Angus wouldn’t let go. Kyle. Matt understood how Angus felt. Kyle had been his friend.

Matt had called after he’d heard about Kyle’s death, but this was the first time they’d seen each other since. Now, being on the Circle K, it was all too real.

Before coming back, Matt had understood in his mind that he would never see Kyle again, but here he had to face the truth. Here he knew it in his heart and missed Kyle badly.

Kyle had died a couple of years ago in a ranching accident, overcome by silo gas when the tractor venting the silo Kyle was working inside had died, no longer flushing out the nitrogen dioxide that built up in silos. The gas could kill in a matter of minutes. Kyle had never stood a chance.

Matt remembered the day Angus called with the news of Kyle’s death—a Monday. He hadn’t felt normal for a long time after that.

“Great to see you, Matt,” Angus repeated. He released Matt and sat back down, his gaze glued to the papers on his desk.

Angus had aged in five years, with frown lines on his forehead, a slight bowing forward of his shoulders. Probably most of it had come after Kyle’s death, as if he had given up on some part of life.

Matt gave Angus a minute to pull himself together then said, “I was real sorry I couldn’t get back here for the funeral.”

“You had your own problems.” Angus rested his elbows on the desk. “How are the injuries? You all healed now?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” Matt sat across from Angus, pretended a nonchalance he didn’t feel and asked, “Heard you and Jenny are getting married.”

“Yeah, the wedding’s in two weeks.”

“You mind if I ask why you’re marrying her?” He forced himself to sound unconcerned. So what if there was an age difference? People did it all the time.

“I want a son.” Angus raised a hand before Matt could object. “Sounds foolish, I know. I’ll never get Kyle back, but I’d like to have children again.”

Matt nodded. He’d never lost a child, so who was he to criticize? There was no fighting a man’s desires after living through tragedy.

“Jesse reminds me of how much I’ve lost.” Angus stilled and flushed, as though he’d said something wrong.

Who was Jesse? A ranch hand?

“C’mon outside,” Angus rushed on and stood, steering Matt with a friendly hand on the shoulder. “Want to show you some of the new equipment I’ve invested in lately.”

Matt knew he was being put off and wondered why. What was the story with Jesse? It didn’t matter. Matt was glad to be distracted from more talk about Kyle. It hurt too much.

Angus showed him around the barns and stables, but seemed fidgety, as if he needed to get away. This went on for the better part of a half hour, then Angus said he had to go into town.

Matt sat on the top step of the veranda, watching the dust from Angus’s car settle in the quiet yard.

The ranch hands must be out doing chores.

Strange homecoming, this, with Kyle dead and Jenny here and still angry, and Angus happy to see him, but somehow not acting like himself.

Matt didn’t like feeling so alone.

It’s your own damn fault. You’re the one who’s made a career out of leaving.

Yeah, but I don’t have to like the results.

He should take a look at his parents’ land. His land now. See whether the house was still standing.

No. He jerked to his feet and wiped the seat of his jeans. No way did he want to go back there.

He needed to get rid of that house and he could do it without ever seeing it again.

He strode down the hill to get his truck. He needed to take care of business.

Driving along the shimmering road toward Ordinary, Matt’s stomach jumped. He hadn’t been in Ordinary in five years.

Home.

He tested the word and tasted bitterness on his tongue.

What was new about that? Ordinary, Montana, hadn’t had much use for him while he grew up here, so why should he need it now?

The townspeople used to call him “that Long whelp.” As if he had any choice who his parents were.

He steered his pickup down Main Street, absorbing details of the town, like the police station, whose hospitality he’d enjoyed a couple of times as a teen. The New American Diner sat placid, no longer new, but still popular, he’d bet. Did they still serve the best club sandwich in the West?

The town basked under a warm May sun and a picture-perfect sky. Matt rubbed the heel of his hand across his chest to ease a weird ache there.

Perversely, he pulled into a parking spot in front of Scotty’s Hardware. There were other spots available, but sometimes he had to remind himself of his own shortcomings. It kept his head screwed on straight.

He wondered if Elsa still worked for her dad. He wouldn’t be going in to find out.

When he walked past the store window, Scotty glared at him. Bad timing. Too bad the old geezer hadn’t retired.

If Matt planned to stay long enough to pay off his full debt to Angus, he would have to face Scotty at some point. He didn’t have it in him today, but that day would come.

Farther down the street, he found what he was looking for. A real estate office.

He stepped inside.

Paula Leger looked up from her desk when he entered. She hadn’t changed much since high school, had gotten a little thicker in the middle, but not enough to deter from her perky good looks. She wore her hair short these days, frosted with different-colored streaks.

Her eyebrows rose and she smiled. “Hey, Matt, it’s been a long time.”

“I remember when your dad used to run this office,” he said, happy to see a friendly face. Paula had always been a decent person, fair and more mature than the rest of the kids in their high school class. He didn’t remember her ever calling him names or putting him down.

“He still does,” she said. “We’re partners now. What can I do for you?”

Matt smiled. No bad vibes here. He took a deep breath and then spit it out, trying to do the right thing before he had time to wonder whether it actually was the right thing. “I want to sell my parents’ house and land.”

If Paula felt any surprise, she hid it well. “Okay, sit down and we’ll discuss it.”

Paula explained how the process would go and how she would determine what she thought the asking price should be, depending on the condition of the house.

“Last time I saw the place, it was in terrible shape,” Matt said. “Whoever buys it will just want the land.”

“Okay. Do you have a copy of the key?”

“I’ve never had one,” Matt replied. “We never locked the front door when I was a kid. As far as I know, the house is still open.”

“Do I have your permission to go inside to appraise it?”

“Sure. Do what you need to do.”

A few minutes later, Matt stepped out of Paula’s office and breathed a sigh. He’d lifted an enormous weight off his shoulders. He felt scarred by everything that had happened in that house. Now he would never have to face it again.

That was done. At last.

He stopped when he saw the flat tire on his truck. Scotty? He spun to look in the hardware store’s windows, but Scotty wasn’t there.

It took him fifteen minutes to get the tire off, another ten to roll it down to the mechanic and half an hour to get it repaired, filled and back on the truck.

By the time Matt left Ordinary, he was tired and thirsty.

All in all, his first trip to town had been mixed. Some people were happy to see him and some clearly weren’t. It was better than he’d hoped for.

When he reached the ranch, he pulled in behind a compact silver Ford that had had turned in ahead of him from the opposite direction. He recognized Jenny at the wheel.

He parked behind his horse trailer and got out.

Jenny cut the engine and opened her door, watching him steadily.

Nothing friendly there.

She walked around the car and opened the passenger door. Someone really short got out. Jenny led whoever it was over to where Matt stood at the bottom of the hill.

She looked determined, almost combative. “This is Jesse,” she said.

Ah, Jesse. Who was he? Who did he belong to?

Jenny didn’t say anything else, just stood and watched him silently. What was going on? Kid seemed kind of familiar. Weird. He was too young for Matt to have met him before, though. Not here in Ordinary, anyway.

“Hey, Jesse,” he said.

The kid looked up at him with bright blue eyes and said, “Who are you?”

“I’m Matt.”

“Are you new?”

“Yep.”

“I can show you around.” He balanced on one foot. “I know lots of things.”

“Yeah? Do you live here?”

“Uh-huh, with my mom.”

“Oh? Who’s your mom?”

The kid gave him an odd look, then glanced up at Jenny.

Matt studied Jenny and then the child. Where she was dark, with chestnut hair and deep brown eyes, Jesse was fair, with blond curls framing his face and thick light lashes ringing those blue eyes. But Jesse had a smattering of freckles across his nose.

Matt knew without looking that Jenny did, too.

“He’s yours?” he croaked. Judging by the boy’s age, she hadn’t wasted any time jumping into bed with someone else after Matt left.

Matt got a weird feeling in his stomach. His nerves skittered. He asked a question he suddenly feared. “Who’s the father?”

Jenny crouched down in front of Jesse and said, “Head inside the house. Angela made custard today.”

“Custard!” he squealed and ran toward the house on sturdy little legs.

She stood slowly, turned around just as slowly, while a pink stain spread on her cheeks.

“He’s yours,” she said.