Читать книгу Getting Married Again - Melinda Curtis - Страница 9

JACKSON FELT about as nervous as the first time he’d asked Lexie out. She looked great. At least the part of her he could see looked great behind the counter. Thick lashes framed wide blue eyes unadorned by makeup. He could gaze into those eyes forever. Her hair, begging to be touched, fell in soft brown waves about her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed, and there’d been a few moments there when their eyes first connected that he’d been glad he came because of the way she was looking at him, as if she were happy to see him.

Heidi was pushing his luck a little, but heck, if he could get a hug from Lex on day one, that was something, right?

He gave Lex his best “hey, trust me” smile, planning to take this as slowly as she wanted, and entered the kitchen. The sight of her full, lush body made him stop in his tracks.

“You’re pregnant!”

Her face turned bright red. “Yes,” she said through gritted teeth.

Lexie had slept with someone else. The room tilted.

“When did this happen?” Jackson’s eyes bounced around the room from Heidi—argh, don’t ask Heidi—to his Hot Shot buddies—he’d never live this down—to his wife. “How could this happen?”

Lexie ran her hands over the blue T-shirt—his T-shirt—covering her very pregnant belly.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“I tried to tell you the last time you called, Dad, but I don’t think you heard me.” Heidi leaned over the counter and smiled sweetly as if she hadn’t been in on this secret for months.

Jackson tried to remember the conversation Heidi referred to. It took a few seconds for something to click. He dropped his head and shook it slowly from side to side. “You said she was perfect.”

“No, Dad, I said she was pregnant,” Heidi corrected, then had the nerve to look back at the Hot Shot crew and grin.

The men, of course, heard their exchange and roared with laughter. Oh, this was one for the record books, all right.

Jackson struggled to control his emotions. He wanted to throttle whoever had gotten his wife pregnant, or at the very least, punch a wall.

Lexie had slept with another man.

“The ink wasn’t even dry on our divorce.” Jackson’s gaze returned to the floor. He couldn’t bear to look at her. How could she do this to him?

“Heidi, go get yourself something to eat.” Lexie’s voice brooked no argument and Heidi scooted over to the table with the firemen. She was always more inclined to obey Lexie than to listen to him.

Jackson lifted his suddenly heavy head and stared at Lexie, barely able to contain his sorrow. He’d never get her back now. How could he, with this child between them? “You were the only thing…” Jackson let his voice trail off, swallowing thickly. She was the reason he’d found a way out of that fire. She and Heidi had been his reason for living. Lexie was his talisman, for heaven’s sake.

A cold emptiness settled inside of him. He leaned against the kitchen wall, needing support for knees suddenly as limp as spaghetti.

“I’m sorry you had to learn about it this way,” Lexie said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you.”

“How could you do this to me?” He’d be the laughingstock of his Hot Shot crew, of every crew and support group from Montana to Arizona—if he wasn’t already. Had Lexie left him for this guy? And what about her infertility problem? Maybe it wasn’t her problem, after all. Maybe all those doctors were wrong. Maybe all his sperm weren’t accounted for.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen, but it doesn’t change anything between us.”

And then the reality of the situation hit him. He pulled Lexie deeper into the kitchen and lowered his voice. “You’ve been walking around like…like…that for months, haven’t you.” He pointed to her swollen belly.

She arched her brows at him as if he’d lost his mind. “That’s right.”

“And everyone in town knows you’re pregnant.”

“Probably.” Lexie crossed her arms just underneath her very full breasts, resting her arms over her round stomach.

Jackson pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s why everyone I saw today asked if I’d seen you. They’re salivating out there right now.” This time he pointed toward the dining room. “Just waiting to hear how I react to…to…you!”

“Probably.”

He forced himself to lower his voice. “Smiley. Birdie. Spider. And who knows how many others.”

“It is a situation that people appear to be curious about.”

Jackson slapped the wall with his palm. “Well, I’m curious, too, damn it.”

“Really?”

Jackson tilted his head to the ceiling as if the cracked stucco held the answer to his problems. This other guy was going to move in, sleep in his bed, and kiss his wife good-morning, not to mention good-night.

Lexie was lost to him. And Heidi…

Oh, hell.

Jackson rubbed his dry, sleep-deprived eyes. “Who is he, Lex? Who did this to us?”

Lexie’s mouth dropped open, then she narrowed her eyes at him and said, “You did, you idiot.”

“SAY AGAIN?” Jackson squinted at her.

Keeping her arms crossed, Lexie tapped her forefinger impatiently on one arm, unable to believe Jackson thought she’d slept with another man. And here she’d assumed he’d been upset that she was pregnant. “I’m seven months along.” Three months ago, she’d been told not to be out of bed for more than a few hours at a time or she’d lose the baby because of an incompetent cervix. She’d spent three months being unable to do things with Heidi the way she wanted. Months spent teetering on the edge of failure. Months of—

“And?” Jackson prompted.

Maybe the breakup sex hadn’t been as memorable for him as it had been for her, or maybe he couldn’t add. Lexie wasn’t sure why this wasn’t sinking in. Finally, when she couldn’t stand the fact that he didn’t comprehend her, Lexie tossed her hands in his direction. “And it’s yours.”

Her outburst was loud enough to carry to the dining room. Somebody mumbled at the Hot Shot table and was promptly shushed. The Hot Shots weren’t this quiet and attentive at the movie theater. She and Jackson were putting on quite a show.

It took a moment for Jackson to process this information, in which time Lexie wondered, as she had for months, how Jackson would react to the idea of becoming a father once again.

Then Jackson smiled at her. Even with half his face covered by a beard, his grin was still powerful. Jackson’s smile could charm the birds out of the trees, convince a teacher that his dog had indeed eaten his homework or reassure a lonely teenage girl who’d never felt loved before that she was the most important thing in the world to him. When Jackson wore that smile, people believed everything he said.

“This is fantastic, Lex. I wish you’d told me sooner.”

Before Lexie knew what was happening, Jackson had his arms around her. His warmth enveloped her. Jackson’s fingers began making circles around the small of her back in just the right spot to relieve the soreness. For the first time in months, Lexie felt a little of the pressure inside her ease.

Wow.

Instinctively, she melted against him. They’d dreamed of a large family, tried as many fertility treatments as they could afford, all to no avail. A part of Lexie had died with the baby she’d miscarried last year, but still, she’d told no one, denying herself the comfort of Jackson’s arms because she wouldn’t settle for anything less than a strong, loving relationship.

Jackson nuzzled her hair and she felt his breath waft across her cheek. Then he pressed a gentle kiss on her temple as if they were still a couple very much in love.

Heidi whooped, spying from her position at the kitchen window and the Hot Shot crew broke into applause at her cue.

Uh-oh.

Dumbfounded at finding herself in the one place she longed to be, the one place she couldn’t be without risking her heart again, it took several heartbeats for the alarm to register in Lexie’s head. She knew Jackson cared for her, but if he were to make a list of his priorities, she’d come out somewhere near the bottom. Lexie would be a fool to let him back into her life, even if he was the father of the little one growing inside of her.

The baby poked her.

Lexie began to pull back. “Jackson, you shouldn’t be touching me like that.”

“Another baby, Lex. This is perfect.”

His fingers were magic, but Lexie needed to fight against his touch. They were divorced. She couldn’t go through the disappointment and heartache of having Jackson in her life again, seeing him leave to risk his life to fight a fire, gluing herself to the television screen in the hopes that she’d see him, praying she wouldn’t recognize him on screen because then the danger would become all too real. And when he was home, he found dozens of reasons to stay away, to help others, leaving Lexie and Heidi on their own.

“Jackson, I’m asking you to stop.”

“Why?” He gazed down at her with such tenderness, Lexie found it hard to find the words she had to say, found it hard to move away. She forced herself to dredge up all the unpleasant memories—Jackson missing from the dinner table, Jackson forgetting to pick up Heidi’s Christmas present from the store in Boise, Jackson unreachable when she’d miscarried. For Lexie, love meant putting a priority on someone and being there through the good times, the bad times, even the boring times. She and Heidi deserved that much.

The baby stretched, pushing on Lexie’s bladder and her lungs simultaneously, and holding the position. This kid was definitely into yoga.

Lexie managed to step back. “We’re divorced.”

Jackson’s brow puckered. “It’s my baby.”

“So? You weren’t around to raise the first one.” Shocked at the harshness of her own words, she retreated another step as she struggled to catch her breath.

“I work in a job that takes me away for weeks at a time.” His words were clipped and his green eyes flashed a warning.

Here was the anger Lexie had expected when she’d asked him to leave a year ago, the anger that she’d thought would prove he still loved her.

Too late. Why was Jackson always too late?

“I know that.” When it seemed he’d argue further, Lexie held up a hand, willing it not to tremble. With her other hand, she tenderly pushed on her stomach, encouraging the baby to give her breathing room. “I’m not going to talk about this now. You’ve just found out about this baby, and you’re upset.” And Lexie hadn’t had any time to prepare for this meeting.

“I’m not upset, I’m ecstatic.” He wasn’t smiling. In fact, when he spoke, it was with a clenched jaw. “I’m coming home. I’m moving back in. We’ll get married.”

“No,” she protested weakly, wanting to protect her fragile heart. Except, a little voice deep inside whispered that this was meant to be.

The air suddenly seemed too thick, the kitchen too hot. Lexie sank down to her knees, barely aware of Heidi shrieking her joy that Jackson was moving back in.

Jackson eased Lexie into his lap. “Head between your knees, darlin’. Breathe deep. That’s excellent.”

Jackson was elbowing his way back into her life. Nothing was going to be excellent again.

“WE’RE NOT GETTING MARRIED,” Lexie whispered at him.

Jackson sat across the table from Lex, having helped her to a chair while she scolded Heidi and the Hot Shots for fussing over her. All the while, Jackson couldn’t help but think that this baby was the reason he’d made it home safely, the reason he and Lexie would get back together. She was his good luck charm.

But she didn’t seem to see it that way. “We’re going to be friends.”

“Like hell we are. Show’s over, boys,” Jackson growled at the firefighters hovering over his wife. “Don’t you have a bus to catch?”

“Sure thing.” Logan slapped Jackson on the shoulder. “Welcome home.” It took the acting superintendent less than two minutes to drive his crew outside.

“Heidi, come help with the dishes,” Mary singsonged, as if the world hadn’t just come crashing down around her son’s ears.

Jackson waited until the door closed behind the last fireman and Heidi followed his mother into the kitchen before confronting Lexie. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t move back home.” He stared pointedly at Lexie’s belly.

“We’re not married,” she said wearily, shifting in her chair in a way that had Jackson recalling how Lexie’s back bothered her when she was pregnant all those years ago. Her eyes kept skittering away from his, as if she couldn’t stand to look at him.

Smiles generally came easily to Jackson, but when he tried to smile at Lexie, he felt as if he were a wolf baring his teeth at her. “We can fix that. Marry me.”

Her eyes widened and she looked at him dead-on. “Please don’t suggest that. We had our chance.”

Jackson opened his mouth to contradict her, then closed it. He couldn’t have said for sure, but there seemed to be panic in her big blue eyes. Why did the thought of his moving back in scare her? Unless there was someone else.

Jackson’s heart sank to his toes. He clasped and unclasped his hands, studying the face of the woman he loved. Everything had seemed clear and simple in Russia. Here at home, the reality of winning Lexie back was daunting, perhaps impossible.

What would he do if she’d fallen in love with someone else?

Jackson swallowed hard as the silence stretched between them. Lexie was back to squirming in her chair, trying to get comfortable. But what if she wasn’t squirming to ease an aching back? What if she was squirming because she didn’t want to tell him about another man in her life? She’d had plenty of time to fall in love again. Pregnant or not, she was a beautiful woman that turned heads. How did you ask a woman if there was someone else more important than you in their life? Words bumbled through his head, quickly discarded. Anything he said would just distance them further and wound his pride.

“This shouldn’t be so hard,” Jackson blurted, inwardly cursing himself as the coward he was. If there was another man, he didn’t want to hear it from Lexie. The way Silver Bend talked, he’d hear about it soon enough.

“It shouldn’t be anything,” Lexie replied, her expression distant, almost aloof. “All we have to do is add the baby’s name to the visitation papers. End of problem.”

“Problem,” Jackson murmured, shocked by how callous his wife had become. His softhearted Lexie was also an incredibly capable woman, who’d demonstrated on several occasions over the years that she didn’t need him. Just once, he’d like Lexie to want him for something other than an errand or a chore around the house.

Old wounds reopened, smarting more than they had the first time she’d sent him away. That night, he’d attributed her rejection to moodiness, assuming it was temporary. So, he’d been calm. Reasonable. This time, her dismissive words drove his anger uncharacteristically to the surface.

“Is that all I am to you? A problem?” He leaned across the table. “There was a time when you begged to have me as your problem.”

Lexie stared toward the kitchen, one hand rubbing the curve of her stomach.

“In fact, I remember our wedding night when you said you couldn’t imagine life without me.”

Her face seemed to pale; her lips tightened into a thin line. The saner part of his brain, the one that had paid attention to hours and hours of medical training, told him that now was the time to back off. But his brain didn’t seem in control of his rampant emotions.

“Or was that just a lie?”

Her hand stilled. She seemed to barely take a breath.

Jackson pushed on. “Do you remember the day you asked me to leave?”

She nodded almost imperceptibly, her profile to him.

Jackson lowered his voice, but his words were still cruelly edged. “You told me you loved me that morning, then you told me to get out that night. And what about my last day in the States? You asked for my signature on the divorce papers, then came with me…willingly…to a motel where we spent hours…” He couldn’t stop himself from looking at her stomach. “…Apparently making that baby you’re carrying.”

Lexie’s head dropped. Her eyes closed.

“Tell me, Lex. What’s true between us and what’s a lie?” He wanted her to say she still loved him.

After a moment, she blinked and lifted her soft, watery gaze to him. She always cried right before they made up, but still Lexie said nothing, gave him no explanation for her actions, nor did her tears well over and fall.

“I don’t want to be a problem to you or our baby.” Jackson extended his hand, palm up, across the table toward her. “I’m here for you, Lex, just like I’ve always been.”

Lexie’s features stiffened. She rose awkwardly from the chair and stared down her slender nose at him. “I’m not taking you back.”

“THANKS FOR THE VODKA. Hopefully I won’t have to use it to bribe some tight-ass supply manager for some of Chainsaw’s gasoline.” Logan stroked the Russian bottle of spirits almost reverently before tucking it into his backpack. “The bus is late, as usual.”

The Forest Service arranged for ground transportation to and from fires outside the area on vans and buses, sometimes as spartan as school buses. They stood outside the ranger station in Silver Bend, along with twenty other men checking their packs and shooting the bull. Most of the crew kept their distance from the two leaders.

Logan had just finished telling Jackson about a fire that the Silver Bend Hot Shots had worked in Oregon. The fire had been a tricky one to control, requiring several crews, smoke jumpers and air support. Jackson could barely contain his envy or his anxiety. He would have loved to fight such a fire. In the past, he’d reveled in the challenges of leading a team against something so incredibly powerful.

A nervous sweat broke out on his upper lip as the cowardly demon danced a tango across his bowels. Self-consciously, Jackson wiped at his mustache.

He was done fighting fires on the line. He’d made his choice. Why hadn’t the demon left him?

“You’re too quiet. You’re never quiet,” Logan remarked when Jackson couldn’t bring himself to talk about the fire. “It’s depressing.”

Jackson blew out a breath. He was the first to admit he was upbeat, but no one was up one hundred percent of the time. After all these years, he would have thought that his closest friend wouldn’t require him to be “on” every second. That’s what he’d loved about Lexie. From the first time they’d met in high school, she’d seemed to understand that he needed to be quiet sometimes, that his perpetual optimism and outgoing nature wasn’t everything he was. She didn’t ask him ad nauseam what was wrong if he was quiet or contemplative. She didn’t try to joke him back into an “up” mood.

God, he missed her. When she’d kicked him out, he’d gone out of his way to be nice, solicitous, the perfect gentleman. He could win anyone over with a smile. But his smile hadn’t worked. Maybe he should have let her know how hurt he was, how lost he was without her. Instead, he’d thrown himself into his work to avoid the pain of her rejection and he’d rarely seen her, hoping that she’d miss him as much as he missed her—and take him back.

Jackson slouched against the green wall of the ranger station. His neck was stiff and his body sluggish, unused as it was to this time zone and abused by a fitful night of horror-chased dreams on the airplane. He needed to see Heidi again soon. He’d forgotten to give her the souvenir he’d brought home, so distracted was he by seeing Lexie pregnant.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Lex?” No one had wanted to tell Jackson about this baby, this gift. Lexie most of all. Wasn’t that a kick in the head? Jackson still loved her, and she couldn’t even tell him they were pregnant again.

As the silence lingered, Jackson experienced a moment of doubt. Was Logan seeing Lex? It was always the best friend, wasn’t it?

“Lexie isn’t any of my business,” Logan said finally, giving Jackson a level look. “Never has been.”

Jackson released the breath he’d been holding, turning his attention to his other burning question. Painful as it was, Jackson had to ask. “She’s not…seeing anyone, is she?”

After looking around the lot at the men assembled there, Logan shook his head.

“The baby is mine,” Jackson said with more force than he had intended.

“Everyone in town knows who knocked her up,” Logan admitted with an easy grin.

“Yeah, I’m going to have another baby.” Jackson grinned, too. He thought he’d given up on that dream a long time ago. Part of him was overjoyed, yet frustration seethed just beneath the surface. Another baby wasn’t enough. He needed Lexie back.

His smile faded.

“What’s up with you?” Logan asked, scrutinizing Jackson’s expression.

Jackson tried to smile, but his cheeks felt heavy. Finally, he spoke, drawing his words out slowly. “Do you remember that fire a couple of years ago in Hell’s Canyon?”

Logan nodded, casting his gaze out toward two men whose voices were raised, bodies angled toward each other in anger.

Seeing Logan glaring at them, the two men went to separate corners of the station. Although not nearly as broad as Jackson, Logan was a couple of inches taller and didn’t take crap from anyone. The team knew better than to mess around with Logan when it came to discipline.

“Bitch of a fire,” Logan noted.

“That fire kicked our butts and singed our whiskers,” Jackson agreed.

“Everybody made it out alive,” Logan pointed out. “What with the steep slopes, erratic winds, and Incident Command telling us to pull back and regroup three different times, I wasn’t sure we’d all make it out safely. Not that you ever doubted it.”

Jackson made a noncommittal sound. He’d thought at the time that the brass had pulled them back too soon, but now he wasn’t so sure. When he thought about it, he was surprised that more firefighters weren’t lost to the powerful devastation of fire every year.

He didn’t used to feel that way. Hot Shots lived for the exhilaration of a fire. They didn’t fight fires with bulky protective jackets as city firemen did. Fire trucks? Hell, no. Hot Shots fought fire in fire-resistant clothing and hand tools. Mano a mano. Battling such a powerful force was addictive. Some guys never wanted to give up the rush. Most Hot Shots were forced out when they could no longer meet the physical demands of the job.

Or when they lost their nerve.

Jackson swallowed the bitter thought. In his wildest dreams, he’d never imagined he’d be one of the washouts.

Loser was more like it.

Jackson sighed. “I thought we were invincible after we got that fire under control.” In his mind, he relived the flames licking at the tent above his shoulders, heard its mocking crackle as it moved past him and the other men, eating up the oxygen.

“Nobody’s invincible, Golden.”

There seemed to be an undercurrent of sadness in Logan’s reply. Could it be that Logan battled the fire demon, too?

“Do you ever wonder if we’ve had more than our share of luck? I mean, look at us, Tin Man. We’ve been fighting wildland fires for, what? Ten years now?”

“What are we talking about this for? You’re the golden one. You’ve got a never-ending supply of luck.” Logan searched Jackson’s face for a minute, then looked away and added in a more serious tone. “Some civilians never live to see their thirty-first birthday. Car wrecks, suicides, cancer.” He shrugged. “So we’ve got our share of scars. But we’re still here, still in one piece.”

“Yeah, but for how long?” Jackson’s heart sank. It would have been easier to deal with his cowardice if Logan felt the same way. And wasn’t that exactly the way a coward was supposed to think? Afraid to do anything alone.

Up until a few weeks ago, Jackson lived to fight fires, keeping his body in top condition because he loved the physical demands and mental challenge of the job. In Jackson’s opinion, there was no other work that made him feel so alive. And yet, his stomach now roiled at the thought of facing a fire again. Because for the first time, he’d allowed fire to bring death to someone under his command.

“Jackson, are you quitting?”

Jackson’s chin lifted, but his eyes felt gritty and his vision blurred, as if he’d been out on the line under heavy smoke too long. “I’m thinking about it.”

“What the hell for?” Logan pushed off the wall.

Jackson shrugged. “You’re the sup now. It’s time for me to move on.”

“Hey, I was happy as a clam being your right-hand man.” Logan lowered his voice. “These guys look up to you. They’d follow you anywhere.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. They’d do the same for you. It’s just…” Jackson ran a hand through his shaggy hair. When he continued, he hoped it was with the truth. “I can’t get Lex back if I go back to the line.”

“So, you’re cashing it in just to make up with her?”

Jackson didn’t answer, letting his friend believe Lexie was the only reason he was giving in.

“Man, I hope you know what you’re doing,” Logan said, shaking his head.

A ranger stepped out of the station and scanned the crowd of Hot Shots until he found Logan. “You guys got lucky. They’re using a local crew for Bighorn. They say you can stand down.”

Curses and groans filled the air. The Hot Shots were clearly disappointed. The men began picking up their belongings and lugging them back to their barracks.

Rookie grinned at Jackson as he walked by. “Maybe we’ll get one tomorrow,” he said.

“That kid’s too young to be out here,” Jackson grumbled to Logan.

Logan didn’t look up from gathering his gear. “He’s twenty, as old as you and I were when we started.”

“You make sure you watch out for him.”

“He’s been out here for months. He’ll be okay.” Logan stared at Jackson. “Maybe it’s you I should be watching out for.”

Jackson frowned and glanced at his boots. He could feel Logan waiting to hear what was bugging him. Logan could wait all day; Jackson wasn’t going to say a word. He clamped his lips tighter together, willing his mind to see the green vibrant trees before him and not the burning giants of Siberia.

“You know, you and Lex are something else.” Logan sighed. “Stubborn as a pair of mules. Can’t you just tell me a joke or something? I could use a little levity about now.”

“Why? Are you that bummed out about missing the Bighorn fire? Because that rookie is right. There probably will be another one tomorrow.”

“No.” Logan chewed on the inside of his cheek. “It’s Deb. She’s not…she’s…she’s dying.” These last words came out and lay between them in a strangled, raw heap.

Deb. Logan’s twin sister. To say they were close was an understatement. An abusive, drunken father had driven the siblings to a near-psychic connection. Without Deb, Logan would be left with no one.

“How? Why?” Jackson put a hand on Logan’s shoulder when it seemed his questions might crack Logan’s composure. “I’m sorry. Don’t answer that.”

Logan bowed his head.

Crap. Tell him something amusing, anything.

“Uh…hey, did I tell you that Russian customs confiscated my stash of toilet paper?”

Eyes still cast to the ground, Logan rubbed his nose, so he missed Jackson rolling his eyes. Jackson couldn’t believe he was going to tell Logan about this.

“Yeah, they swiped my twelve double rolls of Charmin. They claimed it was contraband.”

Logan drew a labored breath. The guy must be going through hell.

“You never go anywhere without your Charmin.”

Jackson patted Logan none too gently on the back, hoping it would help him regain his equilibrium. “T.P. has many uses beyond what it’s sold for. Remember that time I bandaged Whitey’s blistered hands with it? Or when I used it to start a fire when we were back-burning in Wyoming?”

“I find it hard to believe—” Logan looked up with a weak grin “—that you only brought twelve rolls when you were scheduled to be there a year. What did the mighty Golden do without his handy-dandy Charmin?”

“I bought six copies of the newspaper every week.”

Logan’s grin broadened. “Russia was quite an experience for you, man.”

“It’s good to be back in the States.” It would be better to be home with Lexie.

JACKSON’S TRUCK BOUNCED over ruts in the dirt and gravel road that wound between tall pines on what had been his and Lex’s property. Tossed about as if in white water, Jackson was reminded of how much Lexie hated the ruts. It was the first thing she fixed outside after the spring runoff. Only, she hadn’t gotten around to fixing them this year.

He could offer one big guess as to why she hadn’t. Their baby.

Jackson drove out of the grove and onto the main property. There was nothing like the sight of home—a red barn that had seen better days and, up on the hill, a small ranch house painted bright green. A dog barked somewhere and Heidi ran toward his truck, ponytail flying out behind her as she raced through the knee-high grass.

“Dad!” she cried, waving. The smile cracking her face was as broad as his.

Jackson parked in the middle of the drive and jumped out of the truck to catch her hurtling herself at him. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of hugging his little girl.

“I have so much to tell you.” Heidi looped an arm around his waist, tugging him up toward the house.

“You have all the time in the world, Runt. I’m home.” Jackson’s throat tightened on the words. How he wished that were true. He held his daughter close. He could just picture himself walking up the hill and having Lexie run down to meet him halfway, throwing herself into his arms with the same enthusiasm Heidi had shown.

Jackson glanced up toward the house and took a deep breath. Heidi still loved him. He would make things right with Lex.

“We’ve been so busy.” Ever the drama queen, Heidi hopped a few steps ahead of Jackson to command his complete attention. She held up her forefinger. “First, the most major of bummers. Our VCR is broken, so no movies all summer.”

Heidi popped up a second finger. “Then there’s Rufus the Re-pro-bate, as Mom calls him.”

Rufus was the chocolate Lab that Jackson had bought Heidi the week before he left for Russia. The scrappy puppy had been all belly, with big soulful eyes and soft fur. Jackson had picked the pup out of the litter because he admired his spunk.

“Rufus is a bad dog,” Heidi proclaimed in an ominous tone. “He chases gophers, which is good. But he doesn’t catch them, which is bad. He leaves lots of gigantic holes in the yard.”

Jackson reached over, rubbed Heidi’s shoulder, and tried not to think about Lexie’s reaction to a dog demolishing her precious backyard. Lexie had worked her fingers to the bone making that forty-by-sixty-foot plot resemble a well-groomed yard like most of their friends in Boise had. Jackson didn’t understand it. They lived in the middle of the National Forest, not a suburb. Who needed tamed, trim grass and shrubs?

Heidi held up a third finger. “And who could forget Marmy.”

“Who?”

“The orange-and-white kitten you gave us with Rufus. Mom called her Marmalade, but now we just call her Marmy. She doesn’t poop in the corners anymore when she comes inside, but she still brings Mom field mice. And they’re not always dead.” Heidi was almost squealing with excitement. Her dimples deepened. “Mom screams loud enough to be in the movies.”

Heidi dissolved into giggles, eliciting a smile from Jackson. He could appreciate the humor of it all. But did two pets that were nothing but trouble bode well for his case with Lex?

“Mom’s resting. She has to do that a lot. I wouldn’t want to be her for anything.”

“Is something wrong?” Jackson tried to keep his voice steady.

“She’s just tired.” Heidi tugged on Jackson’s arm, pulling him up the hill and closer to the house. “So smile and make nice. If she’s still in one of her moods, I’ll offer to bake her some cookies and you can take out the trash.”

“She’s in one of her moods?” Jackson wasn’t so sure that he wanted to be rejected twice in the same day. In fact, he couldn’t face Lex without arming himself with the proper defenses. More gifts. That’s what he needed.

Jackson resisted Heidi’s tugging. “Hey, what do you say we do a little shopping while your mom rests?”

“Shopping? Clothes shopping?” Heidi clasped her hands to her chest and leaned against Jackson. “Need you ask?”

“Go ask your mom and hustle back out.” Maybe if he gave Lexie a little time to get used to him being home, she’d come around to his way of thinking. Getting married again was the logical move.

Jackson glanced over at the house, longing to go inside. If Lexie acknowledged him when Heidi came back out, he’d talk to her—calmly, patiently and with a reassuring smile that would cover the fact that he was feeling anything but calm or patient.

He braced himself with a smile when Heidi pushed open the screen door and came back outside, but the door banged closed behind his little girl as firmly as if Lexie had shut him out herself.

“What did she say?”

“Mom said it was okay. She asked how you were doing and said to make sure I got some low-rise jeans.”

All Jackson heard was that Lex had asked about him. For a moment, hope flared.

Then a silent Heidi blinked up at him innocently.

Too innocently.

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “She didn’t ask about me, did she?”

“Well, she wanted to,” Heidi hedged.

Tilting his head back, Jackson stared at the clouds gathering in the blue sky above him. “And the low-rise jeans?”

“That was a definite no.”