Читать книгу The Cowboy Comes Home - Patricia Thayer - Страница 8

AN HOUR later, Jess was standing in the ranch kitchen, looking out toward the corral, watching as the new trainer carried his things up the steps to the apartment above the barn.

Johnny Jameson was moving in. For how long? Would he just work with Storm, or would Holt keep him here longer?

She shook away the questions. What did it matter? Once her brother came home, he’d handle the ranch again. And she’d go back to concentrating on her business, which she’d been neglecting the past weeks.

No doubt about it, even months later the entire family was struggling to adjust to all the changes since her father’s death.

Now, Holt was away, taking care of a terminally ill friend. Megan was at school in the East. Nate was in the army.

She released a sigh. The ranch problems were hers to deal with. Her immediate choice had been to hire a horse trainer. Well, she’d have to wait and see how that worked out.

She turned around and saw her son at the big oak table, eating an afternoon snack. A sudden sadness consumed her. Her father used to wander in about this time of day and join his grandson for milk and cookies. She could still hear Brady’s giggles and her father’s laughter ring out through the house.

Clay Calhoun’s death had been hard on all of them, but mostly her son. The twosome had been inseparable. The only exception had been when it came to horses. Her father always thought Brady would outgrow his fears, but didn’t push the issue. That was why she had been so surprised when the child showed up in the corral today.

Jess still worried about her son. Not an outgoing boy by nature, the soon-to-be five-year-old needed to interact more with his peers. So three mornings a week Brady had been attending preschool while she ran her store, Jess’s Bakery, featuring homemade preserves, which she’d named after her mother: Sandra’s Preserves.

“Mom, is Johnny staying here for a long time?”

She studied Brady’s brown eyes. “Not sure, honey. He’s going to work with Grandpa’s horse.”

The boy took a drink of milk, then said, “’Cause Storm is sad about Papa going to heaven?”

She smiled. “Yeah, Storm is sad, too.” Was that the reason she resented Johnny, an outsider, coming here? Because he could handle her dad’s horse so easily, when none of them could? Or that her son trusted him?

“I hope he can make Storm happy again,” Brady said.

“So do I, son.” She turned back around and looked out the row of windows toward the horse barn. “For what we’re paying him, he’d better,” she murmured.

Jess hated this. Since her dad’s death, Holt had taken over the running of the ranch as if he’d been born to it. He had been, but he wasn’t here and could be away a long time. In the past, she’d always gone to her dad for answers and now he wasn’t around any longer.

She felt the sting of tears, remembering back six years ago when she’d told her parents she was pregnant and was going to be a single mom.

Even though her mother voiced her disappointment, her dad wrapped her in his big strong arms and told her that it would be all right. He made sure of that. The moment her son was born, Clay claimed him as a Calhoun. Over the years, it had been her dad who taught her about the importance of the land and family.

She turned back to her child. “Brady, what made you go into the corral today?”

The boy shrugged, concentrating on his chocolate chip cookie. “I dunno.”

“I thought we talked about this. Until you’re older, you need an adult to be with you when you’re around the stock. Please, pay attention to the rules. They’re for your safety.”

He looked at her. “I came to find you. I was afraid you got hurt ‘cause of Storm.” She saw the fear in his eyes.

She went to him at the table and knelt down. “Honey, I wouldn’t get close to a runaway horse on my own. And Wes was there, too.”

“And so was Johnny. Papa said he can work miracles.”

Oh, no, was he making things up? “Brady, we talked about this. Papa Clay is gone away.”

“I know. He’s buried in the ground on the hill with Grandma Sandy.” He pointed toward the barn. “But Papa said this before, when he was sick in bed. ‘Member when I went to his room and read him stories? Sometimes he talked about the ranch.”

She couldn’t hide her smile. That sounded like Dad. “I think you better talk to Holt about that.”

“Papa already told Uncle Holt that he needed to teach me ‘cause I hafta know how to run the Double Bar C when I grow up and be the boss. That’s when Papa and Uncle Holt talked about Johnny.” Brady wrinkled his freckled nose. “Mom, did you know that he talks to horses?”

“Who, Papa?”

“No, Johnny. And that’s why Papa wanted him to come here.” Tears formed in the child’s eyes. “That’s why I had to go and see Johnny. To tell him things about Storm.”

Jess blinked several times. “Okay.” She hugged him. He’d been so tough through the past months. “But next time let an adult know before you head to the corral. Storm isn’t safe to be around.”

“I know. But now Johnny’s gonna fix Storm so he’s a nice horse.”

From a child’s mouth to God’s ears. “We all want that, son, and I hope it happens, but don’t expect miracles.”

“But there are miracles, Mom. In Sunday school they talk about them all the time.”

Okay, she was going to lose this one. “Okay, we’ll see what happens.”

“So, can I watch Johnny with Storm?”

She shook her head. “It’s too dangerous right now.”

“What if Johnny says it’s okay, then can I do it?”

She was torn. Brady had been so afraid to get anywhere close to the stables. Now he wanted to be around the orneriest horse ever. “All right, when we see Johnny again, we’ll talk about it.”

He cheered. “Tonight.”

“Tonight?”

He nodded. “I asked him to come to supper, and he said yes.”

Great. She didn’t need this now, didn’t need to face Johnny again so soon.

She nodded and he climbed down from the table and ran off.

Nancy came in and cleared the table. “That’s a first, the boy going anywhere near a horse.”

Jess glanced at the housekeeper and nodded. “It shocked me, all right.”

“I can’t wait to get a good look at this Johnny Jameson.”

In her mid-forties, Nancy Griffith was full-figured. She had light brown hair that she wore pulled back into a ponytail, and had pretty hazel eyes and a smile that was as warm as she was herself. And since Jess’s mother died a few years ago, they had become the best of friends.

“Well, you can stroll down to the barn if you like.”

The housekeeper smiled. “I’ll just wait until supper.”

Jess thought about the man. She knew his type—he attracted women, and probably didn’t get turned down much. Well, she wasn’t going to be affected by him. “Nancy would you mind watching Brady for a while?”

“Of course not.”

“Good, I’m going to head back to the bakery for a few hours. I have my own business to run.” Before that she needed to show some Texas hospitality.

Johnny finished bringing his things upstairs to the two-room apartment. There was a living area and small kitchen. The other room held a queen-size bed and dresser. There was a tiny bathroom, with no tub, but a shower stall. That was plenty for him.

He sank into the well-worn leather sofa. Home. Until … At least for a few weeks. Not much longer than that. He’d always moved on when the mood struck him. He never wanted to get too attached to a place, especially when he felt he didn’t fit in. That was most of the time.

Yet, this ranch was a top-quality facility. Large stalls, a well-ventilated barn. Clay Calhoun had been serious about his horses.

He sank farther into the cushions. The past few years, he’d made good money because of his training skills. Moving around, he’d banked most of it. He’d invested some in stocks, and some in horses. Risky Business was his latest find. The previous owner deemed the young stallion untrainable and dangerous. Johnny got him at a steal. After a lot of patience and training, Risky had turned into a great horse. Johnny had even bred him. He thought back to the sweet mare that Jess Calhoun rode today. The two would produce a fine-looking foal.

His thoughts wandered toward Ms. Calhoun. She was one pretty woman. Not your typical rich rancher’s daughter. She’d ridden out on a cold January day to find her dad’s horse just like the hired hands.

She went by the name Calhoun and had a son, so was she divorced, or never married? Either way, he needed to stay clear of her. A woman with a child wasn’t a good thing. Not for him. He’d never fit into that mold. He flashed back to years ago, to his mother and her crazy boyfriend with the freewheeling fist. Nope, he didn’t do the family or commitment thing. He’d heard the word love tossed around enough to know that it had been meaningless to him. It had only been connected to hurtful memories. With love came trust, and it was hard to trust someone when they were beating the hell out of you.

But damn, Jess Calhoun was tempting enough to make him forget a lot of pain.

There was a knock at the door. “Come in.”

The door opened and Jess stuck her head in. “I wanted to bring by some sheets and towels. We didn’t know you were coming, so your bed isn’t made up.”

When he looked at her, he didn’t think about making up a bed. He stood. “It’s okay. I kind of sprung my arrival on you.”

“Not a problem. Storm needs help.” She nodded and glanced around nervously. “I hope the accommodations are satisfactory for you.”

If she’d only seen some of the places he’d lived in.

“I didn’t expect anything besides a bed in the bunkhouse. This is great.”

Johnny took the linens from her. Their hands brushed and he felt her jump. “Well, we want you to be comfortable.”

“I am, thank you.” He paused and rushed on to say, “Again, I want to apologize for letting Brady pet Risky earlier. I trust my horse, so I never once thought he might hurt the boy.”

She nodded. “I know I’m a little overprotective. I’m not used to Brady going to strangers, especially around horses.”

He couldn’t help but be intrigued by this woman’s situation. “What about Brady’s father?”

She glanced away. “He’s not in his life.”

Johnny felt his chest tighten. He knew what it was like to have no father. “I’m sorry.”

She sighed. “Some things are for the best. That was one of the reasons why my father and Brady were so close. We’ve all suffered greatly since his death.”

“I can understand that,” he told her. “I promise I won’t do anything to upset Brady. I only want to help Storm.”

“Good. I should go and let you get settled in.”

She headed for the door when Wes appeared. “Looks like I’m a little late for the welcoming committee.”

Jess nodded. “I’m leaving, so you can continue for me.” She was gone.

Wes stayed. “I just talked with Holt again,” the foreman said. “He told me to make sure you feel at home. So whatever you need let me know.”

“Everything is fine.”

Wes grinned. “We want to make sure you hang around for a while.”

“No promises. I agreed to work with Storm, but after that, we’ll see.”

“Fair enough.” Wes opened the door to leave.

“Supper is at six. See you then.”

Johnny wasn’t going to barge in on the Calhouns. “Look, Wes. I don’t have to go. I know the boy extended the invite but …”

“And Brady will probably have a million questions for you.” Wes paused. “Look, as you can see the boy has a big fear of horses mainly because of an incident with a spooked horse when he was a toddler. He’s really looking forward to talking to you at supper.” The foreman frowned. “And if the boy is taking an interest in you training Storm, I take it as a good sign.”

Johnny finally nodded. As long as the boy didn’t expect anything more than a few answers about horses. “I guess I can handle as many questions as he can ask.”

A smile spread across Wes’s face. “I suggest you stick around long enough to sample Jess’s dessert. That’s her specialty.”

The picture in Johnny’s head conjured a lot more than sweet confections. “Then I guess I should stay and have a taste.”

Johnny studied the big ranch-style house, which might have been built a hundred years ago. There had been several additions to the structure, including the large kitchen that had been remodeled recently with all the modern conveniences. There was a huge double oven and the gas cooktop had eight burners. The refrigerator was industrial-size. Then he learned that Jess’s late mother, Sandra, and Jess had begun making their homemade jellies and jams right here until Jess had outgrown the space. After her mother’s heart attack and death three years ago, Jess had opened up shop at another location on the ranch.

So Ms. Calhoun worked for a living.

The group sat in front of the fireplace at a long wooden table that looked as if it had been around for years. Wes explained that Clay had liked eating in the kitchen.

Although the Calhouns were extremely wealthy you couldn’t tell by the way they acted or treated others. They were down-to-earth folk.

The meal was pot roast with potatoes and carrots. His favorite. The biscuits were mouthwatering. And, oh, yeah, he couldn’t wait until dessert.

“What do you whisper to the horses?” Brady asked, breaking into his thoughts. “Magic words?”

“No, not magic. I just want to get the horse used to my voice. Not spook ‘em. Each animal is different.” He glanced across the table at Jess. “Sometimes, if it’s a filly, I’ve been known to sweet-talk them. All females respond to that.”

The boy giggled. “Mom likes it when I’m sweet, too.”

Jess smiled at her son.

Brady turned back to him. “Can I watch you train Storm? Mom said I have to ask permission.”

Johnny glanced at Jess again. He wasn’t sure how she felt about it. “Why don’t you give me a little time with him and we’ll see how it goes? Horses can be unpredictable.”

The boy frowned. “I don’t know what that word means.”

“It means we don’t know how Storm will act. He misses your grandfather. And from what I’ve been told they were good friends. I’m gonna try and help him so he’ll trust people.”

“You think someday I can pet him like I did Risky?”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

When Nancy stood and began to clear the table, Wes immediately got up and helped her. Johnny smiled as the two huddled together at the sink and talked quietly.

The boy leaned toward him and cupped his small hand to his mouth. “Wes’s sweet on Nancy.”

“Brady,” his mother called. “You shouldn’t whisper at the table, it’s impolite.”

“Sorry, Mom.”

She nodded and glanced at the clock. “I think it’s about time we head home. So go gather your things. You have school tomorrow.”

The kid opened his mouth, then closed it. He turned to Johnny. “Papa Clay said that a gentleman never sasses a lady.”

“Your grandfather was a smart man.”

“The smartest in the whole wide world.” The boy got up from the table and walked out.

The room grew silent except for the soft tones coming from the other side of the kitchen. “I should go, too,” he told Jess.

He was surprised when she reached across the table and touched his arm to stop him. He felt the warmth of her delicate hand through his shirt.

“Please, don’t leave.” She quickly moved it away. “I mean, finish your coffee, Mr. Jameson. And have some dessert. It’s apple pie.”

He looked into those light brown eyes. “I will if you stop calling me mister. Again, the name is Johnny.”

“Johnny,” she repeated. “And I’m Jess.”

“That short for Jessica?”

With her nod, he said, “I think Jess suits you better.”

“I don’t know if I should ask what you mean by that.”

“I’d say you’re a solid, dependable person.”

She quickly changed the subject. “What about you, Johnny Jameson? Do you have a place you call home?”

He hated to have the tables turned on him. But it was best she knew him from the start. No surprises. “No. I travel too much with my work to pay for a place that would be empty for months at a time. As you can see, my trailer is big enough.” He smiled. “And a pretty good sleeping quarters, and just about everything else I need.”

“You don’t get lonely?”

Hell, he’d been lonely all his life. He took a sip of coffee. “I’ve been on my own since I was a kid. I like moving around from place to place.” He needed to get her away from talking about him. “Enough about me.” He leaned forward, his voice low. “I’d rather talk about a pretty woman, with a smile that could stop a man in his tracks.”

A blush rose on her cheeks and she glanced away.

“Too much information?” he asked.

“Maybe a little inappropriate. We don’t even know each other.”

He started to speak when he heard a familiar voice ask, “Mom, what does inppro … inpprop …?”

Smiling, Johnny stood. “It means that I didn’t behave myself, son.” He ruffled the boy’s hair and walked to the back door. Grabbing his hat off the hook he looked back at the woman he suspected would be keeping him awake tonight.

“Good night, Jess. Brady.” He turned and walked out into the cold, but that didn’t put out the fire in his belly.

The next morning, Jess had struggled to get Brady dressed and out the door on time. She needed to open the store. Her manager and right-hand man, Molly Dayton, usually came in early on Brady’s school days to start the baking orders.

With ten minutes to spare she kissed her son goodbye at preschool, then climbed into her small silver SUV and drove back two miles toward the west side of the ranch. To the section of Calhoun land that ran next to the highway and the home of Jess’s bakery. Above the shop was also a two-bedroom apartment where she and Brady called home.

Even though the bakery had been a dream of hers none of it would have come to be if not for her father. He’d convinced her to keep going after what she wanted in life.

When she’d outgrown the kitchen at the ranch for jarring the fruit preserves, and the mail-order business took off for Sandra’s jellies and preserves, he’d loaned her the money for a bakery with a small warehouse at the back to expand her business.

She’d talked him into adding a two-bedroom apartment over the bakery so she and Brady had their own place.

Clay had complained about her living so far away from the main house, but there were two shifts a day with production in the warehouse, so there needed to be someone close by. Right now the store didn’t get as much traffic as she wanted; most of her jelly and jam sales were from the internet. She hoped to change that. She didn’t want to live over the bakery permanently. That was why she had more plans to expand, not only the business but her home.

Jess parked at the side of the building and walked through the front door of the store. The familiar aroma of the baking bread and cakes hit her as she went behind the long counter to the cash register. She took out the bills and coins from her purse and added them to the cash register for today’s sales.

Removing her coat, she walked along the high glass case filled with sweets, cakes and pies that were fresh for today’s customers.

The entire store was filled with her products. The shelves along the opposite wall were stacked with Sandra’s Preserves. During the winter months, she didn’t expect a lot of traffic in the store, but they were still busy filling orders from town.

Jess heard a familiar voice from the back and looked up to see her best friend carrying in a tray of cakes.

“Hi, Mol.”

“Morning, Jess.”

Molly Dayton had lived in Larkville all her life. That was how long she’d been friends with Jess. Molly had moved to Houston for college, and a few years ago when her parents had lost their ranch, she’d come home to help out. Now, her father, Ben, handled the shipping of all the bakery’s products. Molly’s mother, Carol, was her best baker. All ten of her employees were the best.

“Did Jerry deliver the café’s order?” Jess asked.

“Yes, even Mrs. Fielder’s birthday cake made it on the truck.” Molly set the tray down on the counter. It was laden with two carrot cakes and three of her double Dutch chocolate cakes. Jess smiled. “Looks like your mother’s been busy.”

The pretty brunette smiled. “Hey, be careful, or she’ll take over.”

Jess loved Carol Dayton. She had come in to help with her quickly expanding business, and now, Jess didn’t know what she’d do without her. “How is everything else going?”

Molly folded her arms. “You tell me, friend.”

“What happened?”

“A good-looking guy shows up at your ranch and I have to hear about it in town.”