Espino, Stacey - Midlife Ménage [Ride 'em Hard 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (6 page)

“Was it her?”

“No. It was a neighbor. My mom’s at the next ranch over. Apparently she suffered heatstroke trying to water the orchard by hand.”

This day was bound to come. She had no sense, refusing the help others offered. A working farm was too much work for one woman. “I’ll go get her,” he said, already digging in his pocket for his truck keys. “Which ranch?”

Christine sat on one of the wooden chairs at the kitchen table. “No, he said not to come by. He’ll bring her back tomorrow after she’s rested.”

“That doesn’t sound like something she’d agree to. Who exactly is this neighbor of yours?” Mrs. McCay was as stubborn as they came, and she didn’t like to leave home, never mind spend the night elsewhere.

“Wade Laweson. He lives alone on that big cattle ranch. Thank God he came by when he did.”

“You’re not worried she’s over there?”

“He’s a good man, always doing us favors.” She took a cleansing breath and set up in front of the sink to prepare the chickens, tying a thin apron around her middle. “Don’t worry about dinner. I’ll have it ready on time before I head out.”

Jackson wasn’t worried about dinner or Christine’s social life. He could only think about those sensual blue eyes and inner strength of the woman now resting in another man’s house.

Jackson wasn’t sure who he was anymore. He was a drifter, a boarder who’d be back on the road in a matter of months. If Mrs. McCay ever decided to settle down with another man, she’d be best to choose a wealthy rancher who could provide her with easy living. She worked too damn hard, and Jackson had little to offer a woman. Still, the thought of packing up and never seeing her again didn’t sit well with him.

“Sure thing, darlin’. No worries.” He casually walked out of the room, but inside his head was spinning. He planned full well to head over to the Laweson Ranch to collect Mrs. McCay. If she needed rest or to be taken care of, he could provide it. He’d take the remainder of the week off, miss his events if he had to. She was more important. Once a man forgot the human element, only caring about conquering their next chance at eight seconds, they were as good as gone. He wouldn’t lose himself like his daddy had.

Jackson boarded his truck and wasted no time in driving out to the cattle ranch down the dirt road. He sprayed gravel as he left the property, overly anxious to get Mrs. McCay home, and even more eager to ensure her knight in shining armor didn’t try anything funny. An unfamiliar jealous streak surfaced. What if she only acted stoic with him, but welcomed the advances of other men, wealthier men her own age? Did she see him as a joke, as a kid because he was not much older than her son?

The long, winding drive to the Laweson Ranch was well maintained. The other man had all the newest equipment in his parking area, a hired hand hosing down a forklift. Jackson stepped out of his truck, looking around with awe. The property was huge, the house a mix of modern and old-world charm. His chest tightened further. How could he compete with this?

“Can I help you?” asked one of the farm hands. The man plucked off his Stetson and wiped his brow with a forearm.

“I need to speak with the landowner, Wade Laweson.”

“He should still be in the house. I haven’t seen him all afternoon, and his truck is parked in its spot.”

“Great. Thanks.” Why hadn’t he been out of the house all day? No doubt because he couldn’t pry himself from Mrs. McCay. He didn’t waste any extra time standing around. Jackson strode over to the wraparound porch and knocked firmly on the door. He waited, tapping his boot impatiently. The heat was unbearable, but it didn’t help he was making a ton of his own. He unbuttoned the two top buttons of his shirt, tugging the collar wider so he could breathe.

The door opened, and rather than the potbellied, gray-haired rancher he hoped to find, Wade was exactly what he’d secretly expected and dreaded. He was the same height as Jackson, a big man at around six foot four. He had a hard-muscled frame, and dark-brown hair with only a sprinkling of gray.

“Yes, can I help you, son?”

Son? This wasn’t looking good for him at all. He should leave with his tail between his legs. Why did he think a real woman would want anything to do with a twenty-nine-year-old drifter like him? She’d been through the death of a husband, raised four children on her own, and ran her farm without the help of hired hands. He was just a greenhorn in her eyes.

“Mrs. McCay here?” he asked, his fire dashed.

Wade crossed his arms over his chest. “Who’s looking?”

“Jackson Taylor. I live with her. Heard she’s unwell and came to pick her up and bring her home.” He wanted Wade to believe there was more between them than there was. Since he’d only known her a week so far, he felt the need to offer more validity for his attachment to her.

He unfolded his arms, his brow furrowed. “You’re her son?”

So Wade didn’t know the family intimately. That was a good sign for Jackson. He was worried Mrs. McCay may have a thing for the cattle rancher, but if they had a relationship surely Wade would know more than he did. “No, I’m not her son. Is she here? Christine said she was here.” He tried to look past him into the house.

“She’s resting. Come in.” The man didn’t sound welcoming, but unimpressed, the same as Jackson. They sized each other up without saying a word.

He followed Wade into the house. The first thing he noted was the air-conditioning. He could feel the heat escaping from his collar practically sizzle as it met the cool air.

When they turned the corner, he saw Mrs. McCay reclining on a sofa, water bottle in hand. She was only wearing a white robe which stopped him dead in his tracks. Were they lovers? It really was none of his business considering he was just a boarder—here today, gone tomorrow. He hadn’t even made his move, though he’d been tempted the last couple days when they were out mucking the barn together. Jackson had caught her staring as he worked shirtless. When he’d turn and meet her gaze, he would find a carnal lust which made his cock hard. She’d be a vixen in bed. But as soon as he’d take a step forward or attempt to say a word, she’d blink and the desire was gone.

“Jackson? What are you doing here?” she asked, sitting upright.

“We were worried about you. I came home to an empty house, and Christine was in a frenzy wondering where you’d be without your truck.”

“I’m fine. I may have pushed myself a bit too hard considering the heat. How’s the crop looking? Did you stop by the orchard?”

Wade sat beside her on the sofa, resting a hand on her knee. “None of that,” he said with warning in his voice. “You’re supposed to be taking care of yourself, not worrying about your crops. Ain’t that how you got in this predicament in the first place?”

Jackson could hear the genuine concern in his voice because it mirrored his own. It tore him up on the inside knowing that strong but petite woman had been battling the drought all on her own. She should have a man to love her…but he supposed she did once upon a time. Why hadn’t she remarried? Mrs. McCay was a blonde beauty with a petite, youthful figure.

He sat on the opposite side of her. “I can’t say I don’t agree. The last thing you need to worry about are your crops. If Mother Nature wants them destroyed, there ain’t nothing you or I can do about it. We can only wait and see.”

“I don’t like those odds,” she said. “A cowboy wouldn’t talk like that. He’d do anything to make things right and save his crop. Without a harvest I have nothing. I can’t pay my mortgage, bills, anything.”

“A mortgage? I’ve been next door for fifteen years and you were already well established when I arrived. Surely your house is nearly paid off?”

“I’ve refinanced the mortgage every few years to get cash money. Farming natural isn’t easy. I don’t have fancy equipment, hired hands, or irrigation systems in place.”

“Like me?” Wade said with a sarcastic edge. “How can I be to blame for what’s happening to you? God knows I’ve tried to lend a hand.”

Her face visibly fell. Jackson didn’t even think before he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. “Now that’s a cruel way to talk to a lady. Mrs. McCay just has a lot on her plate right now.” She didn’t pull away, which surprised him. Normally she’d never let him this close. He continued, stoking her pretty blonde hair, still slightly damp from a shower.

“I’m not trying to be cruel, just get her to understand things are the way they are because she allowed it. Her stubborn streak hasn’t aided her.”

“Let’s get you home,” he whispered against her hair. “You need to rest, not become more stressed.”

Wade stood up, his legs braced as if guarding them from getting up to leave. “You never did tell me who you were. Wendy?” He finally knew her name.
Wendy.
He repeated it in his head, even trying it out silently with his mouth.

“He’s my boarder. Unlike what you think of me, I am proactive. I’m preparing for the potential loss of income. Since there’s no rain in the forecast I’d say the potential is more a guarantee.”

Wade chuckled. “I knew it had to be something like that. You had me scared for a minute there, darlin’. I thought you’d actually robbed the cradle.”

A deafening silence crashed down on the room. Jackson didn’t know if Wendy was more insulted than he was by the remark.

“You saying I’m old, Wade? You think I run after hot, young cowboys and beg them to roll in the hay with me? I don’t think you know me at all.”

“Of course not! Good Lord, you’re younger than I am. I’m just saying a boy like this isn’t capable of taking care of a woman. He wouldn’t know where to start.”

Jackson bolted upright, puffing out his chest. He’d been in more scraps than he could count and had the scars to prove it. This old-timer didn’t threaten him in the least. “You best think twice before running your mouth. It could get you into trouble.” He mock smiled. “Maybe Wendy can recognize a man who can give her exactly what she needs. I guarantee you I don’t need male enhancement to keep my cock hard all night long.”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Wendy stood up and shoved past them. “You’re both disgusting and insulting. Someone please drive me home right now or I’ll walk.”

He knew she was capable of keeping her threat. This time Wade didn’t fight when Jackson followed her out to the parking lot. As he looked back, he saw the defeated look in the other man’s eyes. He honestly felt sorry for him, but if one man had to have Wendy, Jackson wanted it to be him.

Chapter Five

“What was that all about?” Wendy asked as they drove off the property.

“What?”

She exhaled, exasperated, and twisted to face him. “I should wash your mouth with soap for how you talked in there.”

“You can do anything you want to me.” He smiled naughtily as he faced the road “By the way, beautiful name,
Wendy
.”

Had she not even told him her first name in all the time he’d been at her house? Even with the distance she put between them, it had all been in vain. She’d heard the stories about young cowboys falling hard in love. Her own son had become victim. Bradley had come home from a paid cattle roundup and announced he was moving in with a woman, one he’d only known for two weeks. He was one hundred percent, head over heels in love, and she didn’t question his choice to move out. Life had been much more difficult without his helping hand, but he did send money each month which helped pay expenses.

Now, in the span of a week, her boarder was acting possessive about her, as if she was his woman. It was too much to process, especially after listening to Wade’s speech about giving him a chance to court her properly. What was she doing? She should be minding her own business, not hooking up with any man after all these years.

But part of her wanted to let go of the past, however painful. It was tempting to give in to the affections of a good man, but also the hardest thing in the world to do.

“I’m a forty-four-year-old widow. You can do much better than me, Jackson.” A crush was temporary, something that burned hot for a moment in time, then quickly turned to ash. At her age, she needed peace and security if she decided to settle down with a man. Jackson may be a walking sex-on-a-stick with all those hard muscles, but he’d be fickle, just like every drifter she’d known in her life. The cowboys who settled down to work the land were much more reliable, men like Wade.

“I’m not a twenty-year-old punk. I’ll be thirty come November.”

“That’s still a baby. You have your whole life ahead of you.” She tried to brush off his attraction because she couldn’t deal with it now. All she wanted to do was go home and forget the entire day, from the dying crops to her near-death experience, to two men vying for her approval. Wendy was mentally and physically exhausted.