Читать книгу Jared's Texas Homecoming - Patricia Thayer - Страница 9

She was doing this for Evan’s sake.

Dana Shayne dreaded the trip into town, but it had to be done. She closed the door to the house and walked down the porch steps with her four-year-old son in tow. Evan’s dark, wavy hair was neatly combed for a change, and his best jeans and striped T-shirt had been freshly laundered. On his quickly growing feet, he wore his black-tooled cowboy boots that Bert had taught him—to her dismay—to spit-shine.

Her son looked up at her. “I saved my ’lowance, Mom. Can we get ice cream?” he asked, using his best, how-can-you-resist-my-face? look. Then he added a few blinks over his chocolate-brown eyes.

Dana doubted they’d have anything to celebrate today, but she wouldn’t deny him the simple pleasure of an ice-cream cone. “Sure we can, honey. That sounds good.”

She opened the door to her daddy’s old 1970 Ford crew cab truck and helped Evan into the safety seat in the back, then went around to the other side. She checked her gathered print skirt and white short-sleeve cotton top. Already the late-spring weather caused her to perspire, and today of all days she needed to look cool and confident. The last thing she wanted was for Mr. Wilson at the bank to see her sweat.

Dana started up the truck and headed toward San Angelo. Passing the Lazy S Ranch sign that her granddaddy had put up years ago when he’d settled in West Texas, she suddenly felt sad. How much longer would a Shayne own this land? This had been her and Evan’s only home. How could she leave it? But since her father’s death, she and the sixty-five-year-old foreman, Bert, couldn’t handle the place alone, and not many ranch hands would work for what she could afford to pay.

Dana had hoped to expand the cattle operation. Maybe if she had done it a year ago, she’d be able to pay the upcoming balloon mortgage payment. But there wasn’t enough money. As if on cue, the truck hit a rut in the road and she groaned. So many things around the ranch needed fixing, not just the road, but the roof on the house and barn, along with most of the fencing.

Dana sighed. Somehow she had to convince the bank that if they lent her more money, she could make a go of it.

“Hey, Mom,” Evan called from the back seat. “I’m gonna get pep’mint.”

Dana smiled and turned to her son. “Peppermint sounds good. I think I’ll have that, too.” She couldn’t believe how fast her baby had grown. He’d soon turn five, and this fall he’d be heading off to kindergarten. No doubt the separation would be tougher on her than her son.

A horn sounded and Dana turned back to the road only to discover she had wandered into the path of another vehicle. With a gasp, she jerked the wheel to pull the truck back on her side. Overcompensating, she ended up going off the shoulder and into the high grass. The truck bumped and bounced but she managed to keep it under control until it finally stopped. That’s when she heard the screech of tires, followed by a crash.

With her heart beating like a drum, Dana managed to put the truck in Park and unbuckle her seat belt. She turned around to Evan. “Are you okay?” Her hands were shaking as she reached for him. She caressed his face, trying to soothe his fears.

“Mom, that was scary.”

She saw the fear in his eyes and his trembling lip. She stroked his arm soothingly. “I know, honey, but we’re okay.” She didn’t want to remove him from his safety seat, not until she checked on the other vehicle. “Mom needs to check on the people in the other truck. So you have to stay here.”

The child nodded. “Hurry, Mom.”

“I will,” she promised as she climbed out of the cab. Her legs were weak, threatening to give out, but she gathered her strength, knowing someone could be seriously hurt. She raced across the deserted two-lane road to the late-model Chevy extended cab with Nevada plates. With the new highway, hardly anyone used this road, not unless they were coming to the Lazy S. Seeing the bent hood and hearing the sound of steam from the radiator, she knew there could be serious injuries.

“Oh, God, please, don’t let anyone be hurt,” she chanted as she ran to the driver’s door and found a man slumped against the wheel. When she jerked the door open, he started to lift his head and groaned. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?

“Wait! Don’t move, you could be hurt.”

“If a devil of a headache counts, I’m dying.”

Dana watched as the man raised his head all the way and turned toward her. He had thick, raven-black hair and deep blue eyes. He had at least a day’s growth of beard, but not enough to hide the cleft in his chin. She didn’t see any sign of injury or blood.

“Do you hurt anywhere other than your head?” She examined his broad shoulders and his chest covered by a denim shirt. Her gaze moved down over long, muscular legs encased in faded jeans. On his feet he wore crepe-soled work shoes, instead of the area’s standard cowboy boots.

“No, and if the air bag hadn’t gone off, I’d have been fine.”

Somewhat relieved, she finally noticed the evidence of the deflated bag hanging from the steering wheel. “It probably saved your life.”

The man looked toward the front of his truck. “At least I’m better off than Blackie.”

“Blackie. Who’s Blackie?”

He did it then. He smiled. “Blackie is my truck.” He started to climb down.

“Wait, you shouldn’t move.”

“I’m just going to stretch my legs and try to clear my head.” He managed to get out of the truck and stood. She reached out to assist him, gripped his large forearms, then quickly released him when she realized he was doing better without her help.

“I think you should sit down.” When he ignored her suggestion, she watched vigilantly for any sign that he might pass out. He seemed pale, but that could be the powder from the air bag. He didn’t appear to have any visible bumps or bruises on his head, but she couldn’t take any chances. “Do you want me to drive you to the doctor?”

He stared at her. “Why?”

“Because, you could be hurt and…I was the one who ran you off the road.”

“You did kind of take your half out of the middle.”

“I only glanced at my son, and when I turned back there you were. This is the main road to my ranch. No one comes this way, unless they have business at the Lazy S.” She paused, knowing she caused the accident and couldn’t afford to upset this man. “I know that’s no excuse….” She brushed her hair from her face. “I’m sorry. I’m Dana Shayne. My ranch is the Lazy S and it’s just over the rise.”

He hesitated as he looked her over. “I’m Jared Trager.”

She didn’t recognize the name and she’d lived all her life outside San Angelo. No doubt he was a drifter. “Are you sure you’re okay, Mr. Trager?”

He nodded. “It’s Jared. I could use something for this headache.”

“Then let me take you back to the house. You can also call for a tow truck from there.”

“If it’s not too much trouble.”

“No, of course not,” she said. She watched as he took a duffel bag from behind the seat then reached into the bed of the truck and took out a toolbox.

“You can leave that.”

“Not on your life. These tools are my livelihood.”

She’d known men who felt that way, but usually about their horses and saddles.

They started to walk across the road. At about six-two, with a sturdy build, Jared Trager didn’t have any trouble carrying his belongings. When they reached her truck, he dropped his things in the bed then went around to the passenger side and climbed in. Dana hurried to her side and got in her seat.

“Mom, who is he?”

Dana twisted around toward her son. “This is Mr. Trager, Evan. Mr. Trager, this is my son, Evan.”

Dana couldn’t help but notice the close scrutiny the stranger was giving Evan. Then the man grinned.

“It’s nice to meet you, Evan. Just call me Jared,” he said as he reached back to shake the boy’s hand.

Her son’s eyes lit up. “Your truck got smashed up.”

“Yeah, Blackie is a little banged up.”

His eyes widened. “You call your truck…Blackie? I got to pick a name for my pony. Sammy.”

“That’s a good name.”

“But I want a real horse. Mom says I’m too little. But when I’m six, I’ll be big enough.”

Jared Trager gave Evan the once-over. “I’d say by then you’ll be about the right size for a horse. But your mom is the one who decides that.”

Dana started the engine, before her son talked the man to death. “You didn’t tell me why you’re on this road.”

He gave her a sideways glance. “I was coming to see you.”

Jared wasn’t prepared for this. He’d only arrived in San Angelo yesterday. After discovering the Shaynes and the Randells were conveniently neighbors, he’d asked around for directions to both ranches. Not sure yet if he was ready, if ever, to conquer the Randells, he’d decided to come to the Lazy S first.

More than likely this was how Marsh had first met Dana Shayne. Jared stole another look at her. Damn, she sure wasn’t what he’d expected. Tall and willowy, she had a head full of wild auburn hair, green eyes that drew you in, while hinting at secrets. He had to admit that she’d taken him by surprise. Although pretty, Ms. Shayne didn’t seem his brother’s type. Hell, he didn’t even know Marsh’s type, or why he should care. He was here to fulfill a dying request, and that was all.

Jared blew out a tired breath. All the way from town he’d been rehearsing his speech to Ms. Shayne. How to relay Marsh’s wishes for her and the boy. His strategy had been just to walk up to her door, say what he needed to say as he handed her the information about the boy’s trust, then with a quick goodbye, he’d hit the road. What did he know about playing uncle? Family had never been his thing.

Now his plans had to change. How could he predict that Dana Shayne would run into him…literally? He gripped the edge of the torn bench seat as the truck bounced over a pothole. Hell, later he’d tell her who he was.

As they drove through the ranch’s gate, Jared got a good look at the place. The Lazy S had obviously once been a showcase, but it had seen better days. The faded red barn and the once-white two-story house were both in need of paint. The corral fencing needed repair, as did the barn doors. He could spend weeks here and have plenty to keep him busy.

Wait, what was he thinking? He didn’t need a job. He had one waiting for him in Nevada.

Dana drove up to the back door and turned off the engine. She climbed out and went to assist her son.

“You want to come see my pony?” the boy asked, his dark eyes wide. Jared hadn’t missed the strong resemblance to Marsh. The same features and coloring. Surprisingly, finding this little version of his brother didn’t make him sad.

“Not now, Evan,” his mother said. “Mr. Trager’s head hurts.”

Jared noted the boy’s disappointment. “Maybe later, son.”

Dana and Evan led the way up the steps to the door. The wooden slats needed to be replaced, as did many of the boards in the porch. Inside, there was a mudroom with a washer and dryer and several pairs of boots lined against one wall. The temperature dropped when they entered a big peach-colored kitchen with floral curtains at the windows. An oval table surrounded by six chairs was the center focus, and on top, a big bowl of fruit. The place was so homey, it caused an ache in his gut for what he’d never had.

“You sure you’re okay?” she asked.

He nodded as he leaned against the counter.

Looking unconvinced, Dana went to the phone on the wall and dialed a number. She walked into the other room and talked in muffled tones. In a few minutes she returned.

“Can I get you something cool to drink?” she asked.

“If you have some iced tea, that would be nice.”

“I do.” She went to the refrigerator where several pieces of artwork were on display. No doubt the boy’s handiwork.

Evan pointed out one of the pictures, an abstract figure. “See, that’s my pony. That’s Sammy.”

“He looks like a fine animal.”

The boy nodded. “My grandpa got him for me for my birthday. I was three years old.” He held up five chubby little fingers. “I’m almost five.”

Jared frowned, finding he was curious about Dana’s father. “Did he teach you to ride?”

Again the child nodded. “Then he got sick and went to live in heaven.” He looked so sad. “I miss him.”

Jared was happy the kid had been loved. “I bet you do.”

Dana returned to the table with a glass of tea and one of lemonade. She handed the tea to Jared and set the lemonade on the table for her son. After the boy took a long drink, she said, “Evan, go change out of your good clothes.”

“We’re not going into town?” he asked. “What about my ice cream?”

“We’ll go get some another time. We need to take care of Mr. Trager.”

“Oh.” That seemed to interest Evan more. “Is he gonna stay until he gets all better?”

“For a little while,” his mother said. “Stop asking so many questions and go change.”

“’Kay.” Evan shot off, his footsteps sounding as he scurried down the hall and up the stairs.

“Sorry, my son is very inquisitive.”

“He’s not a bother,” Jared assured her. Which was true. “Besides, I’m the one who’s intruding on you.”

“And I’m the one who ran you off the road.”

He shrugged. “No one was hurt.”

“Your truck didn’t fare too well. And I’m not convinced you’re completely all right. Your face is all red.”

“It does itch. It’s the air bag.” He tried to make light of the situation. “I should have ducked to get out of the way.”

She went to a drawer and took out a kitchen towel, wet it, then brought it to him. “Sit down.”

When he did, she pressed the cooling cloth to his face. He was taken aback by her casual manner. But it wasn’t so casual for him. Her gentle touch definitely was causing a reaction.

“You could have been seriously hurt,” she said.

“But I wasn’t. So no need to worry.” He took the cloth from her, but she didn’t pull away. She was close. So close he breathed in her scent, a freshness he couldn’t describe, but knew he could quickly become addicted to it. He raised his gaze to hers. Her eyes were a liquid green with tiny golden flecks in the center. His body began to heat up and he’d be lying if he told himself it had anything to do with the Texas weather. Finally he diverted his gaze.

She also pulled back. “I—I called Doc Turner anyway. He’s going to stop by just to check you out.”

Before Jared could argue that a doctor’s visit wasn’t necessary, he heard the door open and an older man walked into the kitchen. “Hey, you’re back from the bank already? They give you the loan?” Just then the man noticed they weren’t alone and his face reddened. “Sorry, Dana, I didn’t know you had company.”

“Bert, this is Jared Trager. Jared Trager, Bert Marley. We nearly collided on old Parker Road. I managed to get out of the way, but Jared’s truck hit a tree.”

Bert winced. “Well, jumpin’ jackrabbits. Ain’t that all we need. How bad?”

“His truck isn’t drivable,” Dana said. “But I’m more worried about Mr. Trager. The air bag went off.”

Bert limped over and examined Jared through his wire-rimmed glasses. “Looks like you got a nasty rash.”

“I heard that’s one of the drawbacks,” Jared said. “I was hoping I’d never find out, but I’ll survive.”

“Doc Turner’s coming out,” Dana said.

“What were you doin’ out on our road?” Bert scrutinized him. “Take a wrong turn?”

Jared didn’t miss the hostility in the man’s eyes. This was the opening he needed. But how do you just blurt out that you’re the brother of the man who left you pregnant? “No. I was headed this way.”

“Why?”

Jared felt the beads of sweat on his forehead. “I wanted to talk with Ms. Shayne.”

A grin spread across the old man’s weathered face. “So you come about the job.”

Jared was caught off guard by the question. He meant to say no, and tell the truth, but his answer didn’t come out that way. “I guess I could use the work.”

Later after supper, Dana went to her father’s office. What a day it had been. She hadn’t gotten to the bank to talk to Mr. Wilson about the mortgage. Instead, she ended up causing bodily injury to a stranger.

She was so grateful when Doc examined Jared and declared the man fit, then gave him cream for the rash. And by mealtime his headache was gone, too. All she had to do was send the drifter on his way. But something stopped her. Being a woman alone, she didn’t like hiring somebody she didn’t know. But thanks to her, the man was stranded. His truck would take nearly two weeks to repair so Trager couldn’t leave for the time being. She knew that he might get work somewhere else, but she owed him.

It felt like she owed everyone, including the bank. Dana shook the worrisome thought from her head. Not tonight. Nighttime was for Evan. She walked into the living room and found Jared sitting in her father’s chair with her son next to him as he read a story.

Dana’s chest tightened. The picture of the two seemed so perfect. Father and son. But in an imperfect world, Dana knew she couldn’t give Evan what he wanted the most. A father.

Jared raised his head and smiled at her.

Her son looked happy, too. “Jared was reading me a story, Mom. He’s good, and he don’t even have kids.”

Jared shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable.

“I guess it’s just a talent,” Dana said. The man probably had many other talents. “I think it’s time for you to go to bed, Evan.”

Evan started to argue but looked at Jared, who nodded. To her surprise her son said, “’Kay, Mom.” Then he climbed out of the big chair and came to her, giving her a hug and kiss.

Dana called to her son as he climbed the stairs. “I’ll be up in a few minutes to say good-night.” She then turned her attention back to Jared.

“I appreciate you spending time with Evan. He really misses his grandfather and…his father isn’t in the picture.” Why did she tell him all that? “About the job, if you’re serious about working for me, you need to know I can’t afford to pay you much.” She quoted him the wages. “But I’ll cook all your meals and you can stay in the bunkhouse.”

“Are you saying you want to hire me? I’m not an experienced ranch hand. I’m a carpenter by trade, but I can ride pretty well and I’ve spent time on a ranch.”

Dana hesitated, not needing any complications in her life…or her heart. But she had no choice. She did need a man. “That’s what I’m saying.”

He stood. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me just yet. Around here our day starts at five-thirty. Breakfast is at six-thirty and you’ll be in the saddle by seven. And the day doesn’t end until everything gets done. Think you can handle that, Mr. Trager?”

He reached out his hand and took hers. “The name is Jared. And yes, I can handle it.”

Dana placed her hand into his callused one. Immediately she felt heat shoot up her arm, warming her entire body. Maybe he could handle the work but suddenly she had doubts about her ability to handle Jared Trager.