Jane's Long March Home (6 page)

“No!”

“Russell will let you stay.” She stood and locked gazes with the man who’d approached, quiet as a Stealth bomber, behind the boys. They hadn’t noticed, but Jane had been acutely aware of him from the moment he’d stepped out of the house. “Won’t you?”

“They can stay.” He said it with a cautious edge, but like he meant it. His willingness to play along opened up a Pandora’s box she didn’t want to have anything to do with.

Bobby’s mouth turned down in scathing distrust. He motioned Pete to start moving.

Jane outflanked the teenager to clamp a hand on the little tyke’s shoulder, holding Pete in place. Eventually, the boys might find themselves alone and homeless in a dangerous world, but not on her watch.

Her sore heart fluttered at the understanding gleam in Russell’s eyes. Her free hand slid into a fist.

His too perceptive gaze cut to Bobby, but not before a wish that things could be different slipped free of Jane’s tight restraint.

*

The next day, bellied up to his desk to get some work done, a cup of black coffee cooled at Chase’s elbow while he considered his next move. He’d thought his days of planning treatment strategies were over, yet here he was working to individualize one for the Marine. That he’d accidentally stumbled across serious ammunition to fight her demons so early in the game was a stoke of pure luck on his part.

He cursed under his breath. When had Jane stopped being his uncle’s Marine and become a woman badly in need of his help? Was it when she’d put on airs and sauntered toward the boys, her real intentions hidden beneath that sexy swagger of hers? No.

Maybe it was the moment she’d squatted down at their level and talked to them like equals, as if being there, at that moment, was all that mattered.

He shook his head at the seductive image. Not that either.

“Russell, you are one unlucky son,” he muttered, rising to stand at the window.

It was when he’d come up behind the boys. Though he could tell she knew he was there, her attention remained firmly fixed on Bobby and Pete, her questions not pushing, just curious as she coaxed them into staying. All the while, her thoughts had been directed inward. The isolation she found there littered her gorgeous eyes, betraying a fearful inner landscape.

He was snared. Well and truly. He would do everything he could to help her. Not because his uncle willed it, but because he’d unfortunately discovered there was more to Jane Donovan than the stoic Marine who’d been sent for him to heal.

Simply put she intrigued him. There was an intriguing woman hidden beneath all the layers of protection she’d wrapped herself in, and much to his dismay, he wanted to be the one to bring her out of hiding. 

Gus poked his head into the office. “Bad news, Boss. I just got off the phone with Jim Bartlett. He just sold the last of his horses to another buyer.”

After his run in at the hospital with his neighbor lady, Chase had been vaguely toying with, someday, turning the place into some kind of working ranch, but mulling over the treatment plan he was developing up for Jane, a crazier idea came to mind. “Do you know anyone else who has horses to sell? Sweet-natured, gentle animals?”

“Maxine Connor has the sweetest animals in the county. She breaks them in real gentle like.”

Maxine Connor. Of course. Sighing, he gave into the inevitable. “Let’s go see her, then.”

“What about the youngsters?”

“Jane can keep an eye on them. Are they still in the barn?”

Gus raised bushy brows. “Yup. They finished cleaning up the tack room. When I left, they was sweeping out stalls.”

Grinning, he went to give the Marine the good news that she would be playing babysitter. When he stepped into the cool interior of the large building, the murmur of voices drew him past the stalls, to the back of the cavernous building.

“You boys do good work. How old are you?” Jane’s quiet, calming tone would coax a grown man out of his last beer. Chase stopped in the shadow of a sturdy support beam to listen.

“Six.” Pete scrubbed greasy hands on his pant legs. Jane handed the little guy a rag.

Bobby was slower to come up to scratch. “Thirteen.” his voice cracked on the last syllable, making him flush.

Chase was impressed with how little effort it took Jane to get useful information from the runaways. He straightened. The woman was more dangerous than the incendiary device that nearly took her out in Madrid. 

“You boys in need of a job? I’m sure Russell could use some extra hands around here.” Amused blue eyes pinned him, her smile full of mocking humor. His heart did a sudden back flip. 

He rubbed the ache at the back of his neck. Pete’s frail thinness, Bobby’s wary determination to protect his little brother no matter what, and the Marine’s cockiness made it near impossible to ignore her challenge to make room for the boys on the ranch.

How long could he reasonably expect to keep the brothers safely off the streets? He was going to find out. He’d play her game for the time being. But by his own rules.

Knowing what was there, he looked past Jane. “Did you find the motorcycle?”

Jane shrugged as though it were no big thing, but there was a glow of excitement in her eyes that hadn't been there when she first arrived on the ranch. “A Harley. Sweet machine. Looks like it’s been abandoned.”

“It was here when I bought the place. Must have been left by the previous owners.”

She looked longingly at the big bike. “I’d love to buy this baby from you.”

The sudden wish that she’d look at him with the same longing was completely irrational. But mixed with the sweet scent of vanilla she wore, the sharp smell of used motor oil and hay; the volatile combination had his blood pumping big time.

Get a grip, buddy.
“I’m sure we can come to some kind of arrangement.” Dragging his attention away from the sexy lady, Chase addressed the boys. “I’ll pay good wages if you're willing to work hard.”

“You’d pay us?” The cautious hope sprouting on Bobby’s face was one more link in the chain binding Chase to a situation he would have bet, just that morning, he would have had no intention of shouldering.

He shouldn’t do it. Was absolutely certain there would be ramifications down the road he couldn’t foresee. But it was too late to change his mind. Deep in his gut he knew Jane needed these kids as much as they needed a safe place to land.

“I expect a good day's work.”

Bobby hesitated, but not for long. “Okay Mister, you’ve got a deal.”

Jane’s look of approval lured him in. About to dive headfirst into those compelling blues of hers, he pulled himself back just in time. “I have to go see about some horses. I want you to watch the boys.”

The sassy smirk left her face. “That's not part of our deal.”

“It is now. You know the homework I mentioned earlier? We’ll discuss what it entails when I get back.”

Sidestepping the picture of an unlikely family that mushroomed in his head, with ground-eating strides Chase walked as quickly as possible away from the scowling lady Marine, who was making a mine field of the simple, quiet life he’d left Seattle and a thriving practice to find.

CHAPTER

VII

“B
obby and Pete were asleep before their heads hit the pillow. I appreciate you watching them for me today.”

He’d crept up on her. Jane opened her eyes at the husky voice that scraped an unwanted tremor of need up her spine. He leaned against the porch railing, his feet crossed at the ankles, arms folded over his chest. The snaps of his shirt were open, revealing a sprinkle of dark hair.

She gave the porch swing a firm push. She was not going to fall into the trap of being charmed by her therapist. She was on the ranch to get whole and healthy, so she could return to her duties, prepared to handle any situation the Corps threw at her.

In the meantime, to stay on her toes, she had no qualms lobbing a few shells into the Doc’s camp. “You didn’t give me much choice.”

He met her accusation with a level gaze. “No, I suppose I didn’t.”

Thunder clapped overhead, followed quickly by fat drops of rain plopping on the roof of the porch. The patter wrapped them in a cozy intimacy that had a faint flush warming her cheeks.

“Did you get the horses?”

“The lady’s thinking it over.”

Lady?
Out of nowhere jealousy pricked Jane, which made no sense. Chase Russell didn’t belong to her in that way, and never would. Quickly dismissing the unreasonable resentment, she raised an inquiring eyebrow.

“My next door neighbor, Maxine Connor, has a few horses to sell. She’s just not all that keen on selling them to a city boy.” For the first time since she met him, Russell smiled. A genuine smile that made it to his gorgeous eyes, then reached out to her. “Her words. Not mine.”

Her stomach plummeted. She gave the rocker another push, trying not to notice how truly hot the man was with his jeans riding low and his feet bare.

“You could get them from someone else.”

“I could, but Gus says Maxine has the sweetest horses in the area.” He paused, then without explaining why that was important, changed the subject entirely. “You were good with the boys this morning.”

She shrugged. “I’ve had a little experience.”

“At the orphanage?”

Jane stared at him. Russell was just doing what he’d agreed to do. His job.

“Sister Mary Margaret liked the older kids to help out.”

On a sudden, crazy impulse, she left the swing and joined him at the railing. Her thigh brushed his. A spark of acute awareness snapped along sensitized nerves like a loose high voltage wire. She sucked in a breath as his outdoor, woodsy scent pushed her into wanting more.

Don’t be stupid.
She shoved her hands into her front pockets.

“Were you ever able to find out anything about your mom, or her family?” Russell’s smoky tone was easy, more like one friend talking to another than a counselor engaged in talk therapy with his client, which was what this little impromptu conversation had turned into.

Everything about Chase Russell was unexpected. His clean good looks. The way he reluctantly took the lost under his protective wing. How he was looking at her now, as though he was really interested in Jane the person, not just Jane the wounded Marine he had to fix.

Didn’t the Doc know he was supposed to set a time and place for these little chats, not pounce on her whenever the whim struck?

“There’s nothing to know. When it was more important for my mother to get her next fix than it was to be a mom, she left. And she didn’t leave behind any
dear daughter
letters to explain why she left me with strangers.” She pushed away from the railing, the man and the memories.

He stopped her with a restraining hand, fanning the heat curling in her belly. One finger stroked her jaw, leaving a trail of fiery maelstrom in its wake. “I’m sorry.”

Tired of fighting her attraction, she gave him a crooked smile. “You don’t have to be. That was a long time ago, and the Corps is my family now.”

His hands dropped as his brows came together. “That’s good.” He didn’t look convinced.

Perhaps it’d been a mistake to think she could go toe to toe with Russell and not get burned. In her own defense, she was fighting a war on three fronts. “What’s this homework you mentioned?”

“Like I said, you did a good job watching over the boys today. Your
homework
should you decide to take it-” Humor eased the frown from his handsome face. “-is to find out their real names and where they came from.”

From somewhere deep inside Jane came a sudden wish that the man wasn’t her therapist. It would be a novelty to be the girl next door with no worries. The one who was dating the hunky neighbor guy.

She’d never had the chance to be that fresh, innocent girl, who’s dream was a picket fence and a family of her very own that included a husband she could count on and love to distraction. And while she was dreaming big, why not add four happy children, a cat and two dogs to the picture?

But, she wasn’t that girl.

Gunny, step away from the good doctor.

Intending to put some distance between her and the unlikely image he seemed to have of her as the boys’ guardian angel, and the illusion that they could all make one big happy family, she edged away from Russell.

She’d meant it sincerely when she’d promised herself she would jump through any hoop he asked her to, but that hadn’t included taking on two runaway kids, who needed more help than she was capable of giving. Or, becoming responsible for getting strategic intel from them.

What reason could she give for not taking on the assignment Russell was so eager to give. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She was interrupted by the sound of a vehicle coming down the drive.

In the dark, headlights bobbed. A road-weary Dodge truck parked next to her Jeep. Then, Sergeant Scott Boone unfolded his tall, lanky length from the rig.

Russell pushed away from the porch rail. “Do you know him?”

“Yes.” She moved to the bottom step and waited.

“Gunny,” Boone greeted her, as serious as a lead pipe in the hands of a skilled fighter. His gaze flicked to Russell for a brief second, then zeroed in on her.

“What are you doing here, Sergeant?”

“You’re off the grid. The guys got worried. We decided someone had to come find you. I drew the short straw.”

Jane folded her arms across her chest.
The guys
were her Friday night poker buddies in Madrid. Embarrassment flooded her. She’d shut them out. Disconnected entirely.

“How did you find me?”

“Your CO.”

Jane’s self-imposed isolation unraveled a bit at the thought of Boone going out of his way to hunt her down.

Russell shifted beside her, and she couldn’t help but compare the two men. The Doc won hands down.

They were similar in many ways, height, good looks, but Boone’s military bearing had nothing on Russell’s honed physique. And, over late night beers, she’d discovered long ago, the Sergeant wasn’t the settling down type. Hell, none of them were.

Russell on the other hand had responsible written all over his fine form. That was her problem. It was like putting nectar under the beak of a migrating humming bird.

“Sergeant Scott Boone, this is Dr. Chase Russell.” She wasn’t ready to go into the details of her situation with Russell. “He owns this ranch.”

The men eyed each other warily.

Jane stepped between them. “How long can you stay?”

“A few hours. I have to report in by eighteen-hundred tomorrow.”

A stab of jealousy attacked her. While she was stuck here, Boone was heading to a new assignment. “How about some coffee?”

“That would be great.”

In the kitchen, Russell waved her off. “I’ll get the coffee. You go visit.”

She flashed him a smile, then settled at the table across from the Sergeant. Boone lounged comfortably in the chair, his elbow hitched over the back rail. He studied her with a deceptively casual look. “What are you doing here?”

Her gaze darted to Russell. He cocked his head sideways, waiting to see what she was going to tell her buddy. 

The long, awkward silence stretched out. What was she supposed to say?
I’m a nut case, so I’ve been marooned here until I get better?
 

Boone caught on without words, and quickly picked up the slack. The sympathy in his too knowing eyes made Jane want to strike out. Good thing she was past that kind of behavior, she sneered.

“So, Friday night poker isn’t the same without you. Bear’s been on a roll. Can’t beat the dude.”

Russell put steaming cups in front of them, then retreated to the other side of the island that separated the kitchen from the dining area. He leaned against the counter, his own cup in hand. Jane followed his movements before jerking her attention back to Boone.

“How?” She swallowed at the amusement in her buddy’s eyes. She wanted to deny any perceived attraction to Russell, but she knew Boone, the player, wouldn’t believe it. She cleared her throat. “How are Bear and Lacey doing? Any more incidences after-”

Boone shook his head. “No. It’s been quiet since you left. Took awhile to get things cleaned up, but we’ve kept security tight, and the dust has settled.”

Jane divorced herself from her role in the bombing; let the warm memories of being with her comrades roll over her. The conversation shifted to safer ground.

Three hours passed too quickly. Through it all, Russell hung out in the background. She was oddly comforted by his presence.

Before she knew it, Boone was climbing back into his rig. He hesitated before strapping himself in. “Stop blaming yourself for what happened, Gunny. And, don’t stay out here too long. Lacey said to tell you she hasn’t had a decent game since you left. She wants to plan a weekend in Vegas as soon as she and Bear get stateside.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

He gave her his charmer's smile, the one he used on all potential girlfriends, but it did nothing more for Jane than make her think of the man in the house whose grin was a killer.

Pulling the door closed, he tossed her a jaunty two-fingered salute. “Stay in touch.”

“Will do.” For the first time, she meant it.

During Boone’s short stay, he’d reminded her she wasn’t as lost as she thought. She had good friends who weren’t blaming her for what happened.

As the silence of the night closed around her, the constant anxiety she’d been carrying for so long eased just a little.

*

Over the next couple of days, Chase made sure he had no opportunity to be alone with the enticing Marine. It was an easy task since it seemed she’d didn’t want to be alone with him either.

He couldn’t explain it. He’d wanted to kiss her. Despite his better judgment. And, to heck with the rules. If it hadn’t been for the arrival of her fellow Marine, he just might have given into the overwhelming desire to drag her close; take in her sweet scent; explore the soft skin right where her elegant neck met her shoulder.

Lucky for them both, they’d been interrupted. He’d watched her with Sergeant Boone, and gotten a glimpse of what her life in the Marine Corps must have been like. She might have cut off all contact with those she’d served with in Spain, but contrary to what she thought, the woman wasn’t friendless. Scott, Lacey and the one called Bear, they all cared about her and were anxious to have her back.

She’d visibly relaxed in Scott’s company, in a way he’d never gotten her to do. The green-eyed monster twisted into something dark in Chase’s gut, until he remembered there had been no physical contact between Jane and the other Marine. Not even when it was time for Boone to leave.

Determined to get back to work, he threw on some workout clothes, then searched for the woman until he found her at the punching bag. No surprise there. He pulled on gloves and joined her.

Hands dropping to her sides, she took a few dancing steps, her limp barely noticeable. Her heaving chest mocked his resolve to hang onto a measure of reasonable professional conduct. Sweat glistened on her tanned skin. Corn-silk hair stuck up in sexy matted spikes. Hastily, he promised himself he would not give into the attraction battering him like boiling rapids during a white water rafting trip on the nearby Deschutes River.

“I want to try something new.”

“Okay.” She eyed him suspiciously. He couldn’t blame her.

“It’s called recreational therapy. A camping trip. You. Me. The boys.”

As Jane considered his plan, she joined him in a punishing attach on the punching bag. Amidst the thud of their gloves against the swaying bag, they settled into a steady rhythm that had him admiring her grace under fire, and her complete devotion to the task at hand.

“I know what you’re up to.” The pull of her brows together didn’t disguise the fragile vulnerability she was usually extremely good at hiding.

That peek beyond her staunch defenses had him wishing he could hold her, offer comfort, without worrying about what kind of therapist that would make him. Which led to wondering what it would be like to have her looking at him with a lusty ambush on her mind.