Jake (3 page)

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Authors: R. C. Ryan

BOOK: Jake
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Jake nodded toward the door. “Probably the equipment barn, up the hill. That’s the usual place to store tools.”

“Of course. I’ll check it out later.” She gathered up a pile of papers and documents, clutching them to her chest. “It looks as though my father’s filing system was a lot like his life—careless. When I was a kid he never would have dreamed of just throwing things into boxes with no apparent rhyme or reason.”

“Maybe, as you sort through them, you’ll discover some sort of order to them.”

“Not likely.” She deposited the papers on the kitchen counter before returning to stand beside him as he pried open the metal box. A haphazard stack of papers spilled out, littering the tabletop.

“See what I mean?” She eyed the papers before turning to Jake. “What have you decided about the colt?”

“There’s a small wound with swelling and redness that suggests infection. I’ve given him an antibiotic and wrapped the wound. I’ll look in on him tomorrow and see if there’s any improvement. If there is, I’ll continue the treatment. If not, I’ll try something else.”

“I’m so relieved that you were able to get Cory to speak to you. From his reaction to me, I was really afraid he might be deaf and mute.”

“He hadn’t spoken at all?”

“Not to me. But he opened up to you right away.”

Jake gave her one of his devilish smiles. “All part of my charm. Kids and animals just can’t resist me.”

She glanced at his ring finger. “I see that you can’t make the same claim about women.”

Seeing the direction of her gaze he chuckled. “It’s been tough, but so far I’ve managed to resist their advances.” He winked. “I keep a club in my truck, just in case I run into a really aggressive female who won’t take no for an answer.”

He was rewarded with her deep, throaty chuckle, which transformed her from pretty to absolutely gorgeous.

“Thanks for my laugh of the day. I needed it.” She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped a nervous foot. “I’m at a loss as to what to do about Cory. And I get the distinct impression that he isn’t about to give me any help at all.”

“He’ll come around. You’ve already learned that he can talk.”

“To you. But I need him to open up with me about what he’s feeling, and what he wants to do going forward. So far the only thing I’ve heard from him is silence.”

“Give him a little time. In his short lifetime he’s lost his mother and his father. And the colt he loves is suffering. The kid is scared. I’m betting he’s convinced that all the really important things in his life are going to be taken away from him.”

“I’m his half sister, not his enemy.”

“He doesn’t know that. He knows only that a stranger will be the one to determine his future.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” She frowned. “I guess I’ve been so busy dealing with my own feelings, I was overlooking all the things he must be going through.”

“Does he have any family other than you? Grandparents? Aunts?”

Meg’s lips turned into a pretty pout before she chewed her lower lip. “I’ll ask him. I would’ve before but I didn’t think he could speak. So far I’ve found no documentation of any other family. That’s why I’m so desperate to find all my father’s legal documents. I have a frightened little boy, a sprawling ranch, and who knows how many debts I might encounter, and I don’t have a clue what to do with any of them.”

“I hate to add to your burden.” Jake saw the way her eyes narrowed slightly. “Cory tells me that there’s a wrangler up in the hills with your father’s herd. His name is Yancy Jessup. A good man. Folks around here will tell you that he’s someone you can trust. But right now, he doesn’t even know that your father has passed away.” He handed over his cell phone. “Cory gave me Yancy’s number. I think you’d better give him a call.”

She plucked a cell phone from her pocket and deftly added Yancy’s name and number before extending her hand. “I’ll call him. Thank you. I appreciate your help.”

“You’re welcome.” Jake accepted her handshake, while keeping his gaze steady on hers.

She’d probably intended it to be a purely businesslike handshake, but it had become something else entirely. At least for Jake.

Was she feeling that same searing pulse of heat that he was?

He couldn’t help smiling at the startled look that came into her eyes before she removed her hand from his and stared pointedly at the floor.

It would seem that she and Cory shared another family trait. Neither of them was very good at hiding their feelings.

With a last look at her bowed head Jake turned away. With his hand on the door he paused. “My family’s ranch is just over those hills. We’re your nearest neighbor.”

She shot him a startled look. “The Conway ranch? Of course. Jake Conway. I was a little distracted when you introduced yourself.”

His smile grew. “I gave my cell phone number to Cory. So if you need anything, just call.”

As he made his way to his truck, he glanced toward the barn and felt a wave of sympathy for the boy caught up in all of this. He knew what it was to lose a parent at a very young age, and he could clearly recall the pain and confusion of those early days as he’d struggled with grief and fear of the unknown, and an unreasonable sense of loss and emptiness that had never gone away.

As his truck ate up the miles to his home, Jake decided that he would make the Stanford ranch his first stop in the morning. Not just to soothe a frightened little boy’s fears, he realized, but also to indulge himself with another glimpse of the boy’s gorgeous, pouty-lipped sister.

The thought of tasting those lips ought to be enough to fuel his dreams all through the night.

Chapter Two

Meg climbed the stairs and stepped into her old bedroom. Not that it resembled the room she remembered from her childhood. Then, it had been painted pale pink, and the walls had been plastered with pictures she’d cut out of magazines. Photos of horses had littered not only the walls but the top of her dresser and her desktop, and had been taped to her vanity mirror. She’d been totally horse crazy.

The floor had been hardwood, with a pink fuzzy rug under a canopy bed. A princess bed, her father had called it. And she was the princess who ruled all the land that could be seen outside her window.

Now the room was painted a dull shade of pale green, and the sparse furniture consisted of a bed, a dresser, and a bench under one window.

Not that it mattered to her what the room looked like. She wouldn’t be here long enough to settle in. It was merely a place to park her things until she could take care of business and get back to the life she’d left in D.C.

She undressed quickly and pulled on the sea foam night slip she’d tossed into her suitcase before leaving home. The sexy, tissue-silk fabric seemed as out of place here on her father’s ranch as she felt.

She pulled out her ponytail band and made her way to the bathroom carrying the overnight case that held her bath essentials. A short time later she turned out the light and climbed into bed.

After the day she’d put in, she expected to fall asleep instantly, but there were too many things weighing on her mind, dragging her down.

Her father—her big, strong, tough-as-nails father—was dead. It just didn’t compute. Not that she hadn’t faced death. But the loss of her mother and stepfather in a boating accident, though shocking, hadn’t been nearly the jolt to her system that this news had been, delivered over the phone by Everett Fletcher, chief of police in the little town of Paintbrush.

Instead of tears, her legal training had kicked in, and she’d calmly, dispassionately, made her plans to fly here and handle the burial of her father and the disposal of his estate. Clean. Simple. Final.

What she hadn’t counted on was Cory. She hadn’t even known about him. And now that she did, she had more questions than answers. Burying a long-estranged father was one thing. Dealing with a scared, angry little boy was simply outside her realm of expertise. Would he go willingly to a big city, or would he fight her every step of the way? If he did go, how would he fit in? What sort of schooling had he had so far? She could easily afford a tutor, but school was only one small part of the equation. How would he fit into her lifestyle? She was single, by choice, and deeply involved in her career. She often brought her work home with her and spent endless hours prepping before a trial. What was she supposed to do with a frightened, lonely little boy? A nanny? Boarding school? She’d been saddled with both as a girl, and she found herself rejecting them out of hand.

As she pondered all this, she tossed and turned, willing herself to relax. It was impossible. She felt…twitchy. Uneasy.

To distract herself from her unsettling thoughts, she focused instead on Jake Conway. That cowboy had been one of the sexiest men she’d ever met. And that was saying something, since in her line of work there had been no shortage of handsome, successful guys, all of them eager to impress her with their wealth, their success, their…educational and social pedigrees, she thought with a smile.

What set Jake apart was the fact that he was so down to earth, despite the fact that his family ranch was one of the most successful in the country. In those faded denims and a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, he’d exuded more sex appeal than the men in her firm in their custom-fitted suits and Italian leather shoes, smelling of expensive cologne and sporting razor-sharp haircuts, fresh from their workouts with their personal trainers.

She rolled to her other side and clenched a fist. The minute he’d started examining that colt and she saw those muscles flexing, she’d been mesmerized. And when he’d dazzled her with that killer smile, she’d actually felt her heart do a slow, dizzying flip.

It was a good thing she wouldn’t be around long enough to actually get to know Jake Conway. He could be a real heartbreaker.

Still, while she was here, he would certainly make things a lot more interesting.

She fell asleep smiling, with thoughts of an earthy, sexy cowboy playing through her mind.

  

“We missed you last night. Not like you to miss supper, boyo.” Big Jim looked up from the breakfast table as Jake ambled into the big, sunny kitchen.

“Had to visit a lame colt.” As was his custom, Jake brushed a kiss over old Ela’s cheek before reaching for a foaming glass of freshly squeezed orange juice sitting on a tray. He lounged a hip against the counter and downed the liquid in one long swallow.

“You might want to take the time to actually taste that, bro.” Quinn stepped in from the mudroom behind his wife, Cheyenne, and unrolled his sleeves after washing up at the big sink.

“Take time? What a concept.” Jake grinned at his oldest brother and sister-in-law. “I’m learning how to eat and drink on the run.”

“I don’t know why you’re in a rush, son.” After morning chores in the barn, Cole Conway bypassed the juice and went straight for a cup of steaming coffee. “It’s not as though your patients can run out on you if you’re late.”

“So many cows, so little time.” Josh, just entering the kitchen with his wife, Sierra, winked at her, and the two of them laughed at his little joke. “You know, Jake, before you became a veterinarian, we used to say that about you and every woman for miles around. But now, I guess, the only females you have time to charm are the cows.”

Everyone in the room burst into gales of laughter.

Jake joined them before saying, “Oh. I don’t know about that. Last night’s colt had an…interesting owner.”

Seeing that he had their attention, he turned away and busied himself pouring a cup of coffee.

“Okay, bro.” Quinn shot him a withering look. “Out with it. What heart are you about to break this week?”

Jake managed to tear off a corner of Ela’s corn bread and pop it into his mouth before she rapped his knuckles with a wooden spoon. He shot her one of those famous Conway grins before turning to the others. “There’s a certain new redhead in town that’s looking mighty…” He licked the crumbs from his fingers. “…tasty.”

That had them all moaning at his bad joke.

“The only redhead within a hundred miles of us is Blanche Eastman, and she was a teenager when Big Jim drove his herd here back in 1950.”

Josh’s remark had them all chuckling.

“Go ahead. Enjoy your little joke.” Jake took his seat at the table as Phoebe and Ela began passing platters of scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, fried potatoes, and cinnamon toast. “Maybe I’ll just keep the name of the lady secret, and you can hear it from old Flora the next time you visit the diner.”

“If anybody would know, it’s Flora.” Cheyenne grinned as she helped herself to eggs and bacon. “But I’d rather hear it from you, Jake.”

Cole glowered from his position at the end of the table. “Stop the teasing and spit it out, son.”

Jake played out the waiting game until he had everyone’s attention. “I paid a call on the ranch of one of our old neighbors.”

Big Jim’s lips thinned. “Of course. Porter Stanford. His sudden death is the talk of the town. I heard he left everything to his kids.”

Around the table eyebrows were lifted.

Jake paused with the fork halfway to his lips. “You sure about that?”

“That’s what Thibault Baxter told me over at his hardware store yesterday. And he said he heard it from Flora, so it must be gospel.”

Jake shook his head. “If she knows that, why in the world was she tearing into all those metal boxes?”

“She?” Cole stared at his son.

“Porter’s daughter. Her name’s Meg. She’s in from D.C. to dispose of the estate.”

“And she called you?” Cheyenne shot a look at her sister-in-law, Sierra, who returned a knowing nod.

“About a lame colt. Only she didn’t know she was calling me. She left a message with old Doc Hunger’s service, and it was forwarded to my phone. It turns out the sudden death of her father wasn’t her only surprise. She didn’t even know she had a seven-year-old half brother until she got here.”

“Wow.” Sierra had forgotten her breakfast. “I guess since I’m the newest member of the family, I’m missing some history here. Who is Porter Stanford? And what kind of woman doesn’t hear that she has a sibling for seven whole years?”

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