Читать книгу Claiming Her Cowboy - Tina Radcliffe - Страница 11
ОглавлениеJack checked his watch as he tugged his shirttail free from his jeans. He’d made it through day one and would be off duty soon. All he had to do was get his final chore assignment of the day completed. Then he’d be on his way to T-town, a little shopping and a nice steak. Free until the alarm sounded tomorrow at 5:00 a.m.
He pulled the paper Lucy had given him from his pocket and checked the dates. No chicken assignment until after the trail ride and camping trip were complete. If things went in his favor, Mrs. Carmody would release all the birds before then. He’d even pay the bird to stage a coop-break.
For a moment, he simply smiled, thinking about the whole chicken incident. Lately, women had been getting one over on him left and right. Feathered females included.
At least the goat had cooperated.
He shook his head and turned the paper in his hand over. Stables, straight ahead. Or equestrian center, as Lucy Maxwell called the building. He’d been assigned his own horse. That thought alone made him smile.
It had been a long time since he’d been responsible for a horse. Twenty-five years ago, Aunt Meredith’s horses had been his saving grace. His aunt worked him so hard the summer Daniel died that he didn’t have time to blame himself for his little brother’s death. He’d mucked stalls, fed and exercised a stable full of horses from sunrise until bedtime. Then he fell into a hard sleep, too exhausted for the nightmares.
There was no denying the thrum of excitement that accompanied Jack as he entered the equestrian building. Except for the soft whinny of horses, it was quiet.
Jack smiled. He’d forgotten how good quiet was. The lights were on as he took his time walking down the center of the stables, his left hand reaching out to touch the gates of each stall he passed, like he was a kid again. He let the smells of horse sweat and hay nudge his memories while he searched for the sorrel mare he was about to groom.
Spotless. The boys’ ranch stables were spotless, no strong urine odors to indicate the stalls were anything but clean. A chalkboard on the outside of the very last stall on the left had “Grace” printed in white chalk in a childish scrawl. He looked around and found the tack room, situated next to an office, whose door was shut, lights off. The sign on the door read Tripp Walker, Manager.
The familiar scent of new leather drifted to Jack’s nostrils as he entered the tack room and grabbed supplies. He juggled a currycomb and soft brush in the air and caught them easily. His steps were light as he opened the latch to Grace’s stall.
Jack Harris, in a barn. No one would believe it if they could see him now. He didn’t believe it himself.
The mare shifted and raised her tail. Jack sidestepped, though not fast enough to avoid stepping in steaming and aromatic horse patties. He grimaced and held his breath. Twice in one day.
His life as an attorney was filled with horse patties, but today was a record.
Nope, no one would ever believe this, either.
“Grace,” he told the mare. “I thought we were going to be friends. This is no way to treat a guy on our first date.”
The horse merely nickered in response.
Jack grabbed a pitchfork and buried the foul evidence in fresh wood chips that he moved to the corner of the stall, before pulling the currycomb and a brush from his back pocket. He ran his open palm slowly along the coarse coat of reddish-gold of the animal’s flank to prepare her for the session, and then gently began to comb the horse.
“There you go, Grace. Feels good, doesn’t it?” he soothed. “When we’re done, I have a nice carrot for you.” With two fingers, he massaged the animal’s wide forehead until she relaxed.
Jack stuck his nose right into her neck and rubbed the mare’s ears as he inhaled. Yeah, this was the real perfume of summer. The sweet, subtle sweat of horse hair. Pleasant memories of days with Aunt Meri tumbled through his mind.
Jack continued to brush the mare, one hand on the brush, the other on the animal’s silky-soft back. The tension he didn’t realize he held evaporated into the small space.
“You’re doing it wrong,” a small voice whispered.
Jack paused, and Grace’s ears perked at the voice. A quick glance around the stall revealed nothing and no one. Jack continued brushing.
“Circles. You gotta do it in circles.”
He opened the metal gate and took a quick peek down the main walkway and then into the stalls on either side of Grace’s. Both stalls had horses, but they appeared to be the nontalking variety. “Where are you?” Jack asked.
“Up here.”
Jack frowned before glancing straight up. To the right was a hay storage shelf where a little boy, no more than five or six, smiled down at him with a toothy grin. His upper front teeth were absent.
“Are you supposed to be up there?” Jack asked.
The urchin with a dirty face and hair the color of straw shrugged. “No one cares.”
“I bet Miss Lucy cares,” Jack said.
The kid wore jeans and battered red sneakers, the laces untied. Scooting to the edge, he dangled his legs. The movement knocked bits of straw into the air. Hay and dust danced on their way to the ground. Some landed on Jack and Grace.
“Kid, you’re messing up my work here.”
“Sorry.” Which came out as thorry due to the missing teeth.
“What’s your name?”
“Dub Lewis.”
“Your name is Dub?”
“Uh-huh. What’s your name?”
“Jackson Harris.”
Dub screwed up his face and giggled. “What kind of name is that?”
Jack smiled. No filter. His brother had been the same way. Said whatever came to mind, whenever it came to mind.
He chuckled. “Touché, kid.”
“You want me to show you how to do that?” Dub asked.
“Do what?” Jack looked up again, and then down at his hand paused on the horse’s flank. “This? I’ve been grooming horses since I was your age.”
That might be a slight exaggeration, but it silenced the kid, who was obviously five going on thirty.
Jack pulled out the soft brush and began to clean the area the currycomb had covered.
Silence reigned until Jack began to pick Grace’s hooves.
“Are you supposed to be here?” Dub asked.
“Yes.” Jack cocked his head. “I think the real question is, are you supposed to be here?”
“I gots permission.”
“So you said.”
“Grace is my horse. Leo said. And he’s going to teach me to ride Grace.”
“Who’s Leo?”
“Leo. You know. Leo.”
“Actually, I don’t know. But I can ask Miss Lucy about it if you want me to.”
Again with the shrug of the bony shoulders. Jack stared at the kid for a moment. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been around a child. Normally, he avoided them. Too much responsibility and too many memories.
Jack moved on to the next hoof, battling an urge to check and see if the kid was giving him an approving scrutiny. Hoof picking, Harris. He reminded himself. You’ve got this covered.
“Aren’t you going to the meeting?” Dub asked.
“Meeting?”
“Uh-huh. Right before dinner.”
“Maybe you have a meeting, but I don’t think I do.”
“The meeting’s for everyone,” the kid insisted.
Jack vaguely recalled a meeting listed on his schedule for today that he planned to miss.
“I don’t think I need to attend.”
“Everyone does. Miss Lucy said it’s for the trail ride.”
“You’re kind of young for a trail ride. How old are you, anyhow?”
“I’m five and I’m going.” He gave an adamant shake of his blond head. “Yeth, I am.”
“Okay. Fine.”
He grabbed the tools and closed the stall behind him before offering her the carrot. “Good girl, Grace.”
The mare snorted and accepted her treat.
“She likes carrots best.”
Jack nodded. “She sure does. So, Dub Lewis, I don’t suppose you know where this meeting is?” Jack asked.
“Uh-huh. The chow hall. Want me to show you?”
“I’ll find it.” Jack put the tools away and looked up at the little boy. “How are you going to get down?”
“Ladder.”
“Be careful, kid, would you?” he said as he finished with Grace and closed the stall gate behind him.
A moment later Dub Lewis appeared at his side. The kid seemed small for his age. But what did Jack know about kids? Nothing. And he planned to keep it that way.
“Why aren’t you wearing boots?” Jack asked. “It’s dangerous to be in the stables without boots on.”
“I wasn’t in the stall,” he lisped.
“Sure you were.”
Dub shook his head. “I was in the loft. You don’t need boots in the loft.”
Jack opened his mouth and closed it again. What was he doing? He was arguing with a five-year-old, that was what. Once again, the kid reminded him of Daniel. Same forthright attitude and stubborn streak.
“I’m watching Grace,” Dub said. “We’re friends.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Dub nodded, and his short legs did double time in an effort to keep up with Jack, who continued to put the supplies away in the tack room.
“Yeth,” he said. “Sometimes I get to ride Grace, but I gotta wear a helmet.”
“They let you run around the ranch all by yourself, too?” Jack asked.
“I’m not running around. ’Sides, I told you. I gots permission.”
“Gots, huh?” Jack resisted the urge to smile. This was serious stuff. A five-year-old had no business running around without supervision. He knew only too well what could happen. Jack swallowed hard, finding himself getting tense and annoyed all over again.
Dub tugged on Jack’s shirttail. “Come on, Mr. Jackson, or we’ll be late.”
He regarded the pint-size kid at his side. “I’m Jack. Mr. Jack.”
And what was with this “we” stuff?
“Hurry, Mr. Jack!”
“How do you know we’ll be late?” he asked Dub. “You don’t have a watch on.”
“I could see from the window up there. Everybody’s walking to the chow hall.”
“Okay, fine. Show me the way.”
Dub was right. There were a lot of kids walking toward the training building. Now that he thought of it, he recalled a cafeteria in that building.
A few adults were up ahead, but it was mostly kids. Lots of kids. Boys of different ages laughed and talked as they headed to the meeting.
Somehow the whole kids at the ranch thing had slipped Jack’s mind. He hadn’t connected the dots. Or he had, and then blocked it out. Jack swiped a hand over his face and swallowed, willing his heart rate to slow down.
It didn’t matter—he wasn’t here for kids. He was here as a ranch hand. He’d do chickens and goats, and anything else the director lady threw at him. But kids were definitely not part of his repertoire. Not now and not in the future.
He stole a glance at the boy beside him. A prickle of apprehension raced over him, and he realized that he needed to make his no-kids policy completely clear to Lucy Maxwell.
And to Dub Lewis.
* * *
Lucy blinked.
What was Jack Harris doing with Dub Lewis? At well over six feet, he had to lean over every now and again to catch what the small child was saying. Dub seemed to be talking nonstop, skipping at intervals to keep up with Jack’s long strides. Jack’s dark head was next to Dub’s blond one. Lucy’s heart gave a little swoon at the picture they made. But Jack wasn’t smiling. The attorney limped as he walked—a sure sign those fancy shoes were causing him considerable discomfort.
“Did you get all moved in?” she murmured as he approached.
“I did,” he said with a curt nod.
“You spoke with your aunt?”
“My aunt.” He chuckled. “Aunt Meri cleverly left town to spend a few days with a friend.”
Lucy smiled and glanced from Jack to the little boy at his side. “I see you met Dub.”
“Met? He seems to have permanently attached himself to my shadow. I have a few questions for you,” Jack said, his words for her ears only.
Lucy knelt down next to Dub. “Hey, Dub, why don’t you go ahead and find a seat inside?”
Dub glanced at the box of camping supplies at her side. “Don’t I need those, too?”
“Miss Lorna picked yours up for you.”
“Okay. Are we still going for ice cream?” He searched her face hopefully. “With my sissies?”
“What did I tell you?” she returned.
“You said that you’d pick us up tonight after dinner.”
“That’s correct, and I always keep my promises.”
Relief now shone in Dub’s eyes.
“Now go ahead and find a seat inside, please.”
“Okay.” He turned to Jack. “I’ll save you a seat, Mr. Jack.”
“Uh, thanks, kid.”
Lucy’s gaze followed Dub as he raced into the open door of the building.
“What’s his story?” Jack asked.
She turned to face him. “What do you mean?”
“Seems like he should be in an orphanage so he can be adopted. Your facility isn’t licensed for adoption.”
“You really did your research,” Lucy said with a grudging smile. “Once again, I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be. I’m sure I’ll annoy you again very soon.”
“Dub is here as a favor to the court.”
“Why?”
“He’s one of three.”
“Three?”
“Yes. Triplets.”
Jack’s eyes rounded. “There are three of him? Where are his brothers?”
“Sisters. Ann and Eva. They’re at the girls’ ranch.”
“How’s that work?”
“Normally different-sex siblings have visitation weekly. We provide extra family time together for the triplets.”
“So why are they here?”
“You understand this falls under the medical confidentiality agreement you signed. We expect that of all staff members.”
“I’m an attorney. I’m accustomed to keeping my mouth shut.”
Though she sorely itched to spout the hearty comeback on the tip of her tongue, Lucy recognized that she was supposed to be making nice with the man, so she bit her tongue instead.
“Finding foster parents willing to take triplets isn’t easy. Dub was in a separate foster home from his sisters and he became very depressed. In fact, Dub has been in three different foster homes already this year. He ran away from all of them.”
“Why? Why does he run away? Do they treat him poorly?”
“Not at all. Dub simply feels obligated to take care of his sisters. That’s his burden. So he leaves to find them.”
“That’s a heavy load for a five-year-old.”
“I know.” And she did, far more than anyone would ever understand. It had been her job, like Dub’s, to keep track of Emma and Travis when the three of them were in foster care.
“How far does the little man get?” Jack asked.
“Oh, you’d be surprised.” She released a sigh. “Our Dub is very resourceful.”
“Now he’s here.”
“Yes. Dub and his sisters are here for the summer at least, to keep them together.”
“How long have they been in the system?”
“A year. They were removed from their home due to neglect and abandonment. Poor kids were left alone quite a bit, and expected to fend for themselves by the only custodial parent.”
Jack grimaced. “Mother?”
“Yes.”
“And the father?”
“Unknown.”
He shook his head and glanced at the building Dub had gone into. Lucy blinked at the emotion Harris wore on his face. It was the first emotion she’d seen him express for anyone besides his aunt.
“That’s a tough break for a kid,” he muttered.
She nodded. “Another reason they’re here is to see if Dub flourishes when his only responsibility is being a kid. At the ranch, he knows his sisters are being taken care of. A few times he’s randomly asked to see them in the middle of the day. It was as if he needed to be sure they were safe. We complied, and he was able to stop worrying. Dub trusts us to keep our word.”
“How is his being here going to help with the adoption process?”
“We’re actively trying to find Dub a home, and we’ve agreed to facilitate any potential foster or adoptive parents who are interested in all three children.”
Jack offered a short nod, annoyance still evident on his face. “The kid was in the stables.” He shot her an accusatory look. “Alone. No supervision.”
“Dub always asks permission, and he knows that he’s not allowed in the stalls.”
“That’s not the same as supervision.”
“Dub understands the rules.”
“So he kept telling me. Yet seeing him in the loft, a good fifteen feet above the ground, I was not reassured.”
She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “We have security cameras and microphones in the stables. Off-site security is monitoring most of this ranch, except for the pastures. Soon we’ll have cameras out there, as well.” It was her turn to look him in the eye. “If our budget is approved.”
“Cameras don’t take the place of adults supervising kids. He was in the loft. Is that allowed?”
“That would be a loophole in our agreement. Kids tend to find those. You’re an attorney—surely you understand loopholes.”
“A loophole?”
“Yes. He wasn’t technically in the stall. But I appreciate the heads-up. I will discuss that with Dub.” She paused. “I do want you to know that we’ve been operating for five years, and no child has ever been seriously injured.”
“Trust me. It only takes one second for things to spiral out of control. And in that moment, the rest of your life is changed. Forever.”
She stared at him, assessing the rigid posture, the hands shoved into his pockets. More emotion. Where was it all coming from? Jack Harris was hiding a painful secret, of that she was certain. Her words were slow and measured when she responded. “Are you asking for Dub as your buddy for the summer? Is that what this is all about?”
“What?” His head jerked back and his hands came up, palms out. “No. I don’t even know anything about buddies.”
“You have to pick someone. Why not Dub? He certainly seems to have attached himself to you.”
Jack lifted his palms again and stepped back. “Whoa. I have zero experience with kids.”
“Weren’t you a kid?”
“That was a very limited engagement. It ended when I was nine.”
“What?”
He grimaced. “Trust me. I am not the man to be in charge of a kid.”
Lucy opened her mouth to answer and then closed it again. Somehow she knew that he was telling the truth, and his words troubled her. What had happened to Jack Harris to make him so nervous at the thought of being with a child?
She pushed back her bangs. “All you have to do is accompany him on the various summer activities. Be his designated adult. Give him your undivided attention and unconditional love.”
Was she imagining things, or did Jack pale as she spoke?
He wiped his palms on his jeans. “How long does this buddy thing last?” he asked.
“Until the end of summer.”
“You expect me to babysit Dub for six weeks?”
“Please lower your voice.” Again, Lucy glanced around. “We don’t call our ministry at the ranch babysitting. We’re sharing and caring.”
“Sharing and caring.” Jack ran a hand over his face and rubbed the small scar on the bridge of his nose with his index finger.
Lucy stepped closer to Jack as a few volunteers and children walked past her and into the chow hall. “Are you all right?” she asked quietly.
He skirted the question with one of his own. “What if he doesn’t trust me? You said he already has issues.”
“Jack, it’s obvious Dub’s already bonded with you.”
“What makes you think that?” The lawyer’s eyes narrowed.
“Dub Lewis doesn’t follow everyone around. Besides, part of the connection is that horse. Grace. You’re assigned to Grace and he loves that mare.”
Jack knit his brows together. “Dub says Grace is Leo’s horse.”
“No, Leo was just in charge of cleaning the stalls. Leo is actually gone.”
“What happened?”
“He needed a raise that we were unable to provide, given our current, uh...economic situation. It’s unfortunate because Leo did the work of several employees.”
This time Jack’s eyes popped wide. “Does that make me the new Leo?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes, I guess so. However, whether you buddy with Dub or not is your decision.” She shrugged. “You will be assigned a buddy.”
“What part of ‘I don’t want a buddy’ don’t you get?”
Lucy grit her teeth and tamped back a surge of irritation. “What did you think you were going to do at the ranch? Ride a horse and play cowboy?”
“I didn’t think at all. You insisted I see what the ranch was all about.”
“Yes. That’s because you were about to pull the rug out from under us. We’re privately funded. Meredith believes in what we do here. I’m hoping you will, too. We need that funding.”
“I’m not here to take care of kids.” His words were flat.
Jack Harris had returned to his hard-hearted self. That was too bad, because she was starting to sort of almost like him.
“Look, Jack, this ranch is the real thing. You are expected to fully participate.”
“What does that mean?”
“Not only will you have a buddy assignment, but starting tomorrow you’ll start your full chore list and participate in all required activities, including the trail ride and campout.”
“But...”
“Is there a problem? You certainly were quick to dismiss us to your aunt. Now that you actually have to get your hands dirty, you’re having second thoughts? I’m happy to call Meredith.”
“No. There’s no need to bother my aunt.”
Lucy glanced at her watch. “I have to start this meeting soon.”
She reached down and grabbed a pup tent and sleeping bag from the boxes next to her and shoved them at Jack.
He staggered backward in surprise.
“If you lose them, you buy them.” When she moved toward the doors Lucy was surprised to discover Jack matching his steps to her own.
“Tell me about the trail ride.”
Lucy kept walking, stopping only to open the glass doors for him since his arms were full. “It’s exactly that. The junior high and high school kids participate each year for three days and two nights. This first session is the boys’ ranch.”
Jack repositioned the tent pack and the sleeping bag in his arms. “Three days in the saddle?” he asked.
“No, we only ride horses there and back. It’s a camping experience. We take the chuck wagon and live outside with no electronics.”
“No cell phones?”
“None. Not that it really matters. Cell reception is nil where we’re headed.”
“You’re telling me that they actually like doing this?”
“The staff and the children look forward to this particular event every year.”
“Really?” His eyes narrowed as he considered her words.
“You know people pay a small fortune for this kind of outdoor experience. We offer it to our kids free of charge.”
Lucy looked at him. The man was privileged. Could he possibly understand? “You have no idea what an opportunity this is for kids who have been forgotten in foster care or suffered the emotional abyss of abusive situations.” She couldn’t help herself as the words began to tumble from her mouth unfiltered. “Please don’t discount this event until you’ve experienced the trail ride for yourself.”
For once Jack Harris was silent.
“Are you up for the challenge?” she asked.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Everyone has a choice. You and I need to put our differences aside for the summer because the children of Big Heart Ranch come first.”
When he didn’t answer, she took a deep breath. “Can we work together for six weeks or not, Jack?”
“I guess we’ll have to try, won’t we?”
“It’s all up to you, Jack.” Lucy nodded toward the back of the chow hall, where Dub Lewis waved his stubby arms. “Your buddy has your seat saved.”
Jack released a resigned sigh as his gaze followed hers. When he started across the room, a limp was still evident.
“Oh, and Jack?”
He turned, brows raised. “Yeah?”
“Moleskin.”
“Excuse me?”
“Try moleskin and a little triple antibiotic ointment for those blisters.”
His gaze shot to his shoes, and he immediately stopped limping. “I don’t have blisters. The only thing rubbing me the wrong way is this ranch.”
Lucy clutched her clipboard to her chest as she inhaled slowly, counting to ten while willing herself not to respond. Keeping her mouth shut every time Jack Harris pushed her buttons might very well prove to be the most difficult challenge of the next six weeks.
