Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | The Prodigal Groom

The Prodigal Groom
Karen Leabo


CELEBRATION 1000 The Wedding Night JILTED! Even though the entire town thought Jake Mercer had stood up Laurie Branson, Laurie knew Jake wouldn't be a no-show at their wedding without good reason. And then she was told he was dead. Now it's four years later, and in he strolls - handsomer than ever, with a chip on his rugged shoulders.Upon seeing this sexy apparition disguised as ranch manager, Laurie went from shocked to angry to intrigued. Now maybe she could get some answers about the past. And maybe her daughter could have a chance to know her real daddy. That is, once Laurie could find a way to tell Jake that's who he was… .THE WEDDING NIGHT: The excitement started when they said "I do!"CELEBRATION 1000: Come celebrate the publication of the 1000th Silhouette Desire, with scintillating love stories by some of your favorite writers!









Table of Contents


Cover Page (#u59bcc6fd-eb46-5ed4-90df-6342bbf1de1f)

Excerpt (#u735f1951-5350-5122-adae-6a675952f758)

Dear Reader (#u1fd6a37d-a6b4-5ab8-b268-6dda924a80a8)

Title Page (#ua1e38b6e-0ef5-5e5e-9713-c05b476af728)

Abot the Author (#ucf4538df-0600-588e-a08d-901f72536dc5)

Dear Reader (#u7935f1f4-228e-5ed8-b68e-e6f239f3eb0c)

Prologue (#u2edb9e4f-0053-508f-96fc-00cd2b6aadf7)

One (#u56738426-5ef0-5faf-8b19-b653654147ca)

Two (#u3e903deb-3a35-52d8-9e98-cafeeb63407d)

Three (#ue61344f7-d5c7-5c52-91c7-5ef7b7e141f0)

Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)




Laurie Saw The Man’s Legs First—Long And Lean, Encased In Faded Blue Jeans.


As his feet hit the ground, her gaze traveled upward to take in the slim hips, flat stomach and broad shoulders, challenging the seams of a white Western-cut shirt. He was looking down as he hit the ground, and his face and hair were obscured by a pearl gray Stetson. So it was only when he focused directly on her that she saw the lean, weather-whipped face, the sensual lips, the steel blue eyes—features once as familiar to her as her own reflection in the mirror.



“Oh…my…God,” she murmured. Then every cubic inch of oxygen deserted her lungs.



“Hi, Laurie.”



“’Hi, Laurie’?” she repeated. “Is that all you have to say? You’re supposed to be dead!”


Dear Reader,



It’s hard to believe that this is the grand finale of CELEBRATION 10001 But all good things must come to an end. Not that there aren’t more wonderful things in store for you next month, too…



But as for June, first we have an absolutely sizzling MAN OF THE MONTH from Ann Major called The Accidental Bodyguard.

Are you a fan of HAWK’S WAY? If so, don’t miss the latest “Hawk’s” story, The Temporary Groom by Joan Johnston. Check out the family tree on page six and see if you recognize all the members of the Whitelaw family.

And with The Cowboy and the Cradle Cait London has begun a fabulous new western series—THE TALLCHIEFS. (P.S. The next Tallchief is all set for September!)

Many of you have written to say how much you love Elizabeth Bevarly’s books. Her latest. Father of the Brood, book #2 in the FROM HERE TO PATERNITY series, simply shouldn’t be missed

This month is completed with Karen Leabo’s The Prodigal Groom, the latest in our WEDDING NIGHT series, and don’t miss a wonderful star of tomorrow— DEBUT AUTHOR Eileen Wilks, who’s written The Loner and the Lady.

As for next month…we have a not-to-be-missed MAN OF THE MONTH by Anne McAllister, and Dixie Browning launches DADDY KNOWS LAST, a new Silhouette continuity series beginning in Desire.






Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to: Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3




The Prodigal Groom

Karen Leabo



















www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




KAREN LEABO


credits her fourth-grade teacher with initially sparking her interest in creative writing. She was determined at an early age to have her work published. When she was in the eighth grade she wrote a children’s book and convinced her school yearbook publisher to put it in print



Karen was born and raised in Dallas. She has worked as a magazine art director, a free-lance writer and a textbook editor, but now she keeps herself busy fulltime writing about romance.


Dear Reader,

They don’t put red covers on Silhouette Desires for nothing! The first time I read one—had to be a dozen years ago—I was pleasantly surprised to find that the hero and heroine didn’t close the bedroom door. Beautifully detailed love scenes were an essential part of the story, providing something I’d felt was missing from those “tamer” romances.

Desires quickly became my favorite reads, not only because I liked the love scenes, but because I could relate to the modem, fast-paced tone of these books. The blend of fantasy and real-life people appealed to me as a reader. I could cast myself as the heroine and feel right at home.

When I decided to try my hand at writing romance. Silhouette Desire was where I wanted to be. I was proud as a new mother when my first Desire, Close Quarters, was published in 1991, and even happier that Desire has been my publishing “home” for many years now.

Needless to say, it’s a great honor to have one of my books chosen for CELEBRATION 1000. The Prodigal Groom is a special book for me because I took all of those reader favorites—a bride, a ranch, a secret baby and a cowboy/cop—and put them all into one story!

I hope you’ll enjoy all of the Celebration 1000 Desires, and I hope you’ll see my name on one of those bright red covers when it comes time for CELEBRATION 2000!









Prologue (#ulink_b670d2ac-334c-5cb2-a9a5-0f071dcaaa83)


The room was abominably hot, and the smell of roses was overpowering. Laurie Branson tugged at the choking neckline of her antique satin dress, readjusted her itchy headpiece, then glanced at her watch yet again.

“He’s a half hour late,” Laurie’s sister, Katie, said needlessly. Everyone in the room was excruciatingly aware of the time, and of the groom’s continued absence. Hell, the way gossip flew in Winnefred, Texas, probably everyone in town knew by now that Jake Mercer was late for his own wedding.

Five more minutes crawled by.

“Well, we might as well face it,” said Throckmore Branson, Laurie’s father. “He’s not coming. Once again, Jake Mercer has made his work more important than you, Laurie. Only this time he’s blown a twentythousand-dollar wedding. I hope you’re satisfied, because this is the only wedding you’ll get!”

“Throck…” Laurie’s mother, Louise, laid a gentling hand on her husband’s arm.

“No, let me finish,” he said. “This has needed to be said for a long time. Mercer is a dedicated lawman, I’ll give him that, but he’s more married to his career than he’ll ever be to any woman. He’s been inconsiderate toward you from the start, Laurie, always putting himself before you, always thinking his needs were more important than yours.

“I warned you he was too old for you, too set in his ways to take on a young wife, possibly children, as well. He’s simply not the type of man to put his family first. Now, can you see I was right? Any man who would run off to chase down some scumbag, drug dealer instead of marrying the girl he supposedly loves—”

“Yes, I get the point, Daddy,” Laurie interrupted. “He’s undependable and a rotten prospect for a husband.” And she loved him with every cell in her body. Hadn’t she told him that last night, for the hundredth time? And hadn’t he shown her, in his own feverish way, how much he cared?

Old-fashioned as it was, she had wanted to wait until their wedding night to physically consummate that love. The emotion that raged between them had felt so pure to her, so sacred, that it hadn’t seemed right to bring premarital sex into the picture. She’d wanted their first time together to be sanctioned by the church and God, so there would be no guilt or shame or fear of pregnancy to mar the experience, and Jake had agreed.

Last night, however, all their good intentions had gone straight out the window. Feeling a little giddy from the wine at the rehearsal dinner, and so full of love for the man she was about to marry that she thought she would burst, Laurie had succumbed to the fulminating desires that had plagued her for months. Jake had been .the cautious one, insisting that she be very sure in her own mind they were doing the right thing.

She’d been positive. After all, she was so committed to him that she already felt married. What difference did a few hours make?

Their lovemaking had been everything she’d fantasized about and more. Her face grew warm even thinking about it. Jake had demonstrated his love for her in a dozen different ways. And she’d believed in it. How could she ever regret something so beautiful?

She still believed in that love. Jake had promised he would be here, despite the fact that his Special Operations Group had been called in early this morning to apprehend fugitive drug lord Juan LaBarba.

Jake had explained over the phone that the operation would be swift and clean. He and the other men would be in and out before LaBarba and his gang even knew anyone was within spitting distance. And he would make it to the church with plenty of time to spare.

But if that had been the case, where was Jake?

“Something must have gone wrong,” she murmured.

“I’ll tell you what went wrong,” her father said. “Cold feet.”

Laurie stood, her bouquet of white roses falling unheeded to the wine-colored carpet. “I hope you’re right. I hope that’s all it is—cold feet. But did it ever occur to you—to any of you,” she added, taking in her mother and the four bridesmaids, who had remained silently disapproving throughout this ordeal, “that something might have happened to Jake? That he might be injured? The LaBarbas have guns, and they’re not afraid to use them.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing like that,” Louise said. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions until we hear from Jake. Meanwhile…” She looked at her watch. “Perhaps we should make a decision?”

“Fine. I’ll go tell everyone the wedding’s off,” Laurie said curtly. She ought to be crying or something, she thought. But she couldn’t. She was a tensed-up ball of nerves, and she wouldn’t be able to release anything until she found out what had happened.

She straightened her spine and walked toward the door, curiously unconcerned about the embarrassment of letting the whole town know she’d been jilted. But the door opened before she could reach it and her older brother, Danny, entered, his face as white as the rosebud he wore in his lapel.

“Laurie, I think you’d better sit down,” he said.

She knew what was coming even before he related the facts in an emotionless voice. The bust had gone bad. LaBarba’s brother, Ernesto, had been shot and captured, but Juan had gotten away. And somehow, in the process, Jake had been killed.

Again, Laurie thought she should cry or scream or faint or something. But a cold lump of numbness grew inside her until it encompassed her whole being. “Where is he?” she asked in a voice that sounded like a worn-out tape recording.

“No one knows,” Danny said. “The LaBarbas took his…his body when they fled.”

Laurie was vaguely aware of her mother’s arm around her shoulders, her father’s gruff words of condolence, the pain in her brother’s eyes. She wanted to respond, but she couldn’t. Her limbs were like lead, and her mouth wouldn’t cooperate when she tried to speak.

She could have forgiven Jake for missing their wedding. She could have forgiven him for his dedication in pursuing an evil man like Juan LaBarba. But she would never, ever, forgive him for dying.




One (#ulink_dd5fb4f1-c680-5afd-8f5c-622adc12358b)


It was time, Jake Mercer thought. He stopped his pickup truck at the end of a long, red-dirt driveway and contemplated the sign that marked the entrance to Birkett’s Folly. Yeah, Charlie Birkett had done all right for himself with this place. Jake had gotten to where he could identify Birkett horseflesh at every rodeo he went to in these parts.

But all was not as prosperous at the Folly as appearances would indicate. If he looked close, Jake could see that the fence needed painting. And there weren’t quite as many sleek quarter horses grazing in the pasture as there used to be.

But even before he’d seen those clues, Jake had known something wasn’t right here. He’d sensed deep trouble the moment he’d seen the classified ad placed by Laurie Branson Birkett:

WANTED: Manager for established quarter-horse ranch. Must have experience in financial management and know the specifics of equine breeding. Living quarters provided. Salary negotiable. Apply in person, Birkett’s Folly, Winnefred, Texas, or call…

Jake had heard through the grapevine that Laurie was having a hard time of it after her husband’s fatal stroke, but he’d assumed that meant she was grieving. He’d never dreamed that Charlie Birkett hadn’t adequately provided for his wife in the event of his death. Surely he’d made provisions for someone to take over management of the Folly.

Then again, knowing Laurie, she’d probably insisted she could manage things herself—never mind that when she’d married Charlie, a scant two months after Jake’s disappearance, she hadn’t known one end of a horse from the other. In fact, as he recalled, she’d been scared of horses.

Well, whatever, she obviously was in need of a manager now. Jake had grown up on a cattle ranch. Although his family hadn’t bred quarter horses, they’d bought and sold a fair number of them over the yearsmany from the Birketts—and Jake could recognize championship qualities when he saw them. In fact, he currently owned a Birkett horse, a stallion he’d picked up for a song because the horse had been lame.

He could help Laurie. And if she was in financial straits, as it appeared she was, he could help her for a lot less salary than any other applicants who might wander to her door.

Maybe it was a crazy thing to do, showing up in her life after four years. But for most of that time he’d been keeping track of her, reading about her in the Winnefred weekly newspaper and savoring bits of information reluctantly dragged from her brother, Danny. Those scraps weren’t enough anymore.

He had to see her. He wanted to help her, and, hell, he owed her that much at least.

Yeah, it was time. He put his truck into gear and turned into the driveway.



Laurie stretched on tiptoes to fasten the corner of the last damp sheet to the clothesline. There, that task was done. But it had taken thirty minutes out of her day, thirty minutes she hadn’t planned on.

Honestly, if it wasn’t one thing it was another. This morning the clothes dryer had quit abruptly. Replacing it was out of the question, given the state of her household budget. At least the spring weather was pleasant. She wondered how people without clothes dryers took care of their laundry in the middle of winter.

“All done?” asked three-year-old Wendy. She was sitting in the empty laundry basket with two striped kittens in her lap, making Laurie wish she could run and get her camera. But there just wasn’t time.

“All done,” she answered, plucking up one of the kittens and cuddling it under her chin. They were supposed to be barn cats, not house pets, kept solely to take care of the rodent population, but Wendy had relentlessly tamed them. “Want to help me weed the garden?”

“Mmm, okay, but my tummy’s growling.”

Laurie looked at her watch. Darn, it was almost noon. How had the morning gotten away from her? She still had to call the vet and find out if there was any news about Flash’s lab tests. And she had to check the answering machine to see if anyone had responded to the ad she’d placed in the Tyler paper.

She half hoped no one would apply for the job. Although she was perilously close to financial disaster, she hated the thought of some stranger moving in and running things.

After Charlie’s unexpected death, she had arrogantly assumed she could take over running the Folly. After all, she was a college graduate with retail management experience, and she’d lived and helped out at the Folly for four years. There was also Maurice, who’d been working the Folly for more than a decade, to help her.

But she’d quickly discovered that managing a ranch wasn’t quite like managing a gift shop, which was what she’d done until she’d married Charlie. She’d had no clue as to which mares should be bred to which stud, or how much to pay for the service of this stud or that one, or when and how much to sell the horses for. While Charlie had kept meticulous records, Laurie had found them less intelligible than a physics textbook. There just didn’t seem to be a pattern.

And Maurice, for all his expertise in handling the horses, knew very little about the money end of things.

Still, Laurie had persevered, plunging into one foolish choice after another. Charlie’s illness, brief though it was, had depleted their cash, and everything she’d done had made the situation worse. She’d waited far too long to admit she needed help. Now, she was afraid it was too late. If she lost the Folly, she didn’t know what she would do. Oh, they could survive, but the ranch was her daughter’s legacy.

“Maurice!” Wendy cried out as the Folly’s truck rumbled down the driveway. She scrambled out of the basket and ran to the edge of the yard, ready to greet Maurice Bryson, the Folly’s only remaining employee.

“Hello, Sunshine,” Maurice said as he unfolded his long frame and climbed out of the truck. “And good morning to you, Miz Laurie. I brought your mail.”

“Thanks, Maurice. I’m afraid to ask, but what was wrong with the truck, and how much did it cost to fix it?”

“Water pump. Not too much.” He handed a receipt to Laurie along with the stack of letters. She winced. Could have been worse, she supposed.

Wendy tugged at Maurice’s pants leg. “Are you my daddy?” she asked earnestly.

Maurice let loose with a roar of laughter, then picked Wendy up and swung her into the air. “No, Sunshine, I’m afraid my skin’s just a tad too dark for me to be your daddy. But I can be your honorary uncle, how ‘bout that?” He set her down and patted her on the head.

“Wendy!” Laurie was mortified. “I’m sorry, Maurice. Ever since she figured out that all the other kids at her preschool have daddies, she’s been obsessed with the concept. Wendy,” she said sternly, “I’ve told you before, your daddy’s in heaven. I’ve shown you his picture.”

“But that’s not fair,” she said, stamping her little foot. “When’s he coming back?”

“Sweetheart, he can’t come back. He’s with the angels.”

“Then I want a new daddy. Cindy has two. Why can’t I have one of hers?”

Ah, the logic of three-year-olds. Thankfully, Laurie was saved from answering by the timely arrival of a visitor. A shiny blue pickup truck was barreling down the long driveway, raising a cloud of red dust. Laurie’s immediate reaction was to covet the truck, which was so much newer and nicer than hers, but she chastised herself. She had to stop wishing for the impossible and play the hand she’d been dealt.

Hadn’t that always been the way of it?

“Mommy, I have to go tinkle,” Wendy said, forgetting her daddy obsession for the moment.

“Run inside if you have to use the bathroom,” Laurie said. She abhorred the term tinkle, another lovely concept her daughter had picked up at her weekly preschool. “I’ll be in in a minute to start lunch.”

“Okay.” Wendy picked up one of the kittens, draped the compliant beast over her shoulder and headed for the front porch of the sprawling white frame house, which had been in the Birkett family for four generations.

Maurice cast a curious glance over his shoulder as the truck drew closer. “I’ll set that mail on the front porch for you.”

Laurie handed him the packet of letters and catalogs, which she’d scarcely glanced at. “Thanks. Don’t stray too far. I have no idea who’s driving that truck.” Winnefred was a friendly little town, certainly no hotbed of crime, but as a woman living alone in the country, Laurie was aware of how vulnerable she was.

The blue truck pulled up behind the Folly’s truck and stopped. Someone applying for the job, perhaps? His vehicle certainly qualified, she thought guiltily, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She wished she’d put on a nicer blouse this morning, instead of one that was faded and frayed at the cuffs.

The truck’s door opened, and Laurie saw the man’s alligator boots first, then his legs—long and lean, encased in faded blue jeans. As his feet hit the ground, her gaze traveled upward to take in the slim hips, flat stomach and broad shoulders challenging the seams of a white western-cut shirt. He was looking down as he hit the ground, and his face and hair were obscured by a pearl gray Stetson. So it was only when he focused directly on her that she saw the lean, weather-whipped face, the sensual lips, the steel blue eyes, features once as familiar to her as her own reflection in the mirror.

“Oh…my…God,” she murmured. Then every cubic inch of oxygen deserted her lungs.

“Hi, Laurie.” He removed his hat, revealing his black hair, long and wavy on top but shorter on the sides than she remembered. It gleamed in the sun like a crow’s wing.

“Hi, Laurie?” she repeated, the words choked. “Is that all you have to say? You’re supposed to be dead!” With that the world imploded to a pinpoint of light and the ground tipped sideways. The last thing she remembered was a strong pair of arms breaking her fall.

Jake lowered her gently to the grass. “Laurie? Laurie, honey, wake up,” he said, patting her cheek.

Ah, hell, he supposed he shouldn’t have taken her by surprise like this. But she’d never been the fainting type.

“Here, now, what’s going on?” A tall, wiry black man came barreling around the side of the house with a shotgun pointed at Jake’s heart.

Jake jumped away from Laurie. “Whoa, there. Easy with that gun. She just fainted, that’s all.”

Maurice lowered the gun and stared with shootermarble eyes. “Jake? Jake Mercer? But you can’t be him, ‘cause he’s dead.”

“It’s me, all right, Maurice,” Jake said, recalling the ranch hand’s name.

Laurie stirred and moaned. Jake immediately hunkered down and touched her face, smoothing a strand of sun-bright hair off her cheek.

“Laurie? You okay?”

Her bleary eyes tried their best to focus on him. She blinked several times. “Oh, God, it is you, Jake. Are you a ghost? Or am I dead, too?”

He smiled gently. “No, you’re very much alive.” And her nearness affected him in ways he’d forgotten. His heart pounded and his gut tightened, and he wanted nothing more than to draw her into his arms and cling to her vitality. Her memory had kept him alive during those long, hard months of captivity. Now he was finding out that his memory hadn’t done her justice.

“You cut your hair,” he said.

Laurie pushed herself into a sitting position. “I hardly think that’s relevant! What are you doing here? How did you…? What on earth…? I don’t know whether to be happy to see you or furious!”

He offered his hand. “Let’s go inside where it’s cool and get you something to drink, and I promise I’ll answer every one of your questions.”

She allowed him to help her to her feet, though she released his hand the moment she was steady. “All right,” she said uncertainly, glancing nervously toward the front porch. “But I’ve got to get lunch on the table, so we’ll have to talk in the kitchen.”

Jake’s gaze followed hers, and he immediately saw what was troubling her. A blond-haired toddler in a gingham dress stood on the porch, clinging to a rocking chair, her angelic little face filled with suspicion as she stared at Jake.

“Oh, Lord, Laurie, she’s beautiful.” He barely breathed the words. “Looks just like you did at that age.”

Laurie’s gaze darted back and forth between Jake and the child. “She’s—that’s Wendy, my daughter.”

“Mommy? Are you sick?”

Laurie went to her. “No, sweetheart, I’m just fine. Are you ready for some lunch?”

The little girl nodded distractedly, still staring at Jake.

Laurie took Wendy’s hand and entered the house. Maurice followed, and neither of them made a point of inviting Jake in. He went in, anyway. This wasn’t exactly the joyful reunion he’d expected.

“Laurie,” Maurice said, “you want I should take Wendy into town for a hamburger? Then you and Jake can talk.”

“Oh, that’d be terrific,” she answered, silently thanking heaven that Maurice was so perceptive. She grabbed her purse, which was hanging on a hook by the door, and pulled out her wallet. “Drat, I haven’t got more than a couple of dollars in here.”

“I’ll get it,” Jake said, quickly pulling a twenty from his own wallet. Maurice took it with a nod.

“Thank you,” Laurie said grudgingly. “Wendy, Maurice will take you to Dairy Queen, okay?”

The child nodded, but she was still studying Jake. Abruptly she ran toward him and grabbed on to his leg. “Daddy!” she shrieked.

Obviously horrified, Laurie pulled her daughter away. “No, Wendy,” she said sharply. “Remember what we talked about? Your daddy’s in heaven.”

Wendy folded her arms and firmed her mouth up in a mutinous expression, clearly not buying her mother’s explanation. Jake would have laughed if the situation hadn’t been so poignant.

“C’mon, Sunshine,” Maurice interjected. “Let’s go get some hamburgers. And I bet Mommy’ll let us get some ice cream afterward. What do you say?”

Wendy grabbed on to the hand Maurice offered and allowed herself to be led away, but even the promise of ice cream hadn’t completely distracted her from her fixation on Jake. She looked over her shoulder, continuing to stare at him with solemn blue eyes until the front door closed, blocking him from view.

“I bet she’s a handful,” Jake said, feeling suddenly achy around his heart. He and Laurie had intended to have children, lots of them.

“She is,” Laurie said, her voice still a bit weak. “Sweet and cuddly one minute and stubborn as a mule the next. I’m sorry…I don’t know what to say. She never knew her…Charlie. Lately she’s become obsessed with finding her daddy.” Laurie waited, holding her breath, expecting some acknowledgment from Jake that he would soon rectify the situation.

“It’s okay,” he said with a shrug, dismissing the incident far more casually than she would have believed possible. “Hey, you look like you’re about to keel over again. Let’s get you some water.” With a hand at the small of her back, he guided her to the kitchen. He remembered where it was from visits to Birkett’s Folly as a child. His father and old Will Birkett had been good friends.

The absurdity of this situation made Laurie want to laugh. Jake Mercer was alive? How often had she dreamed that it was all a big misunderstanding, that the Marshals Service had made a mistake? Apparently those farfetched dreams were coming true.

Again she stifled an almost hysterical laugh. On the heels of her elation, however, came anger. How dare Jake come back from the dead? How dare he abandon her, abandon their child, then blithely waltz back into her life unannounced?

Oh, Lord, she was confused, still woozy and weak, and if she didn’t get herself something to eat or drink she was going to faint again. So she said nothing as Jake took a glass from the cabinet and filled it with cold water from the refrigerator.

He handed it to her. She took it, carefully avoiding touching him, and took several long swallows.

“Sit down,” Jake said.

She would have remained standing just to prove he couldn’t tell her what to do, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate. She sank into the chair he held out for her.

He sat down across from her, with the old enamel kitchen table between them. Her dizziness abated and her wits began to return. Now maybe she was in some kind of shape to listen to Jake’s explanations.

Surely he didn’t expect to take up with her where he’d left off.

“So, talk,” she said. “Where have you been for the past four years? Now, let’s see, maybe I can guess. Juan LaBarba swore a vendetta against you, so the blessed U.S. Marshals Service decided to hide you for a while, and they told us you died so we wouldn’t come looking for you. Am I close?”

“Nowhere near.” He rested his hands on the edge of the table and rocked back and forth a couple of times. “Laurie, do you actually believe I’d leave you standing at the altar because of some stupid vendetta?”

Properly chastised for jumping to conclusions, she shook her head. “I’m sorry. Tell me what really happened.”

“I was shot and left for dead,” he said quietly. “I got caught in the same flurry of gunfire that killed Ernesto LaBarba, Juan’s brother. The LaBarbas dragged me inside the building where they were holed up, thinking to trade me for Ernesto. But when they found out Ernesto had died, they decided to keep me as a bargaining chip. They fled to Costa Rica and took me with them.”

“Did you try to escape?” Laurie asked, trying to fathom the horror he must have experienced. It sounded so unreal, like a bad movie.

“I wasn’t in any shape to escape. Juan’s wife, Carmen, patched me up pretty good, but I still got some kind of infection that lasted for months. I don’t remember a whole lot about that time.”

Laurie winced. What he must have gone through! She wanted to touch him, to offer him comfort, but the look in his eyes told her he hadn’t come to her for pity. “So did they use you as a bargaining chip, like they intended?” she asked.

“Apparently they tried, but by then the government was denying all knowledge of me. As far as they were concerned, I was dead—and they didn’t want anyone to contradict them.”

“But…” she started to object, then paused when Jake pulled a bit of metal out of his jeans pocket and laid it on the table.

“That’s the bullet Carmen found in me. It was from one of our guns, not the Uzis LaBarba’s gang was using.”

“My God, you were shot by one of your own men,” she said, barely breathing the words. “It wasn’t intentional, was it?”

He shook his head. “I’m sure it was an accident. All hell was breaking loose. Nerves were pulled to the breaking point.”

“Still, I can see why they wouldn’t want you spreading it around that you were the victim of ‘friendly fire.’”

“Particularly since, in their official report, I was shot in the head, not the back.” Bitterness twisted his mouth. “Apparently they weren’t as sure that I was dead as they pretended, and they wanted to make damn certain no one else questioned it.”

“So what did LaBarba do when he found out you weren’t—” she paused, choosing just the right word “—valuable to them?”

“He would have killed me outright and left me for the buzzards, but Carmen intervened. I’m not sure exactly what she did, but LaBarba listened to her for some reason.”

There was a certain kindness to Jake’s expression when he talked about Carmen, and Laurie felt a pang of jealousy. Had he and Carmen…? Oh, surely Jake wouldn’t get involved with another man’s wife! She pushed the irrelevant thoughts aside.

“LaBarba might have had other plans for me. I don’t know,” Jake continued. “But I didn’t wait around to find out. As soon as I was strong enough, I got the hell out of there. The first person I called when, I got back to the States was Danny.”

Danny. Her brother and Jake’s best friend. It bothered her that Jake hadn’t called her first. “When was this?”

“About…” He hesitated. “Shortly after Wendy was born.”

Laurie was out of her chair. “You’ve been back for more than three years, and you waited until now to contact me? You let me think you were dead all this time? Danny knew, and he didn’t tell me?” She was so angry and frustrated at the unfairness that she wanted to hit something. She settled for the tabletop, slapping it with the palm of her hand and almost upsetting her glass of water. “Why? Why didn’t you come back to me?”

“Because, Laurie, you were married to another man.”




Two (#ulink_2d435c8b-2144-53e2-bfb9-b7d6684396a5)


Laurie fell back into her chair with a thunk. Of course she’d been married. And Jake’s sudden reappearance would have been awkward, to say the least. She wasn’t sure that excused the fact that he’d continued to allow her to believe him dead, but there was some logic to his decision.

“I wanted to see you, believe me,” Jake said, softening. “But Danny…convinced me otherwise. He said you’d finally gotten your life pulled together, and with the new baby and all…well, he just didn’t think it would be fair for me to jump in and upset the applecart. Your brother can be very persuasive. I finally agreed with him,” Jake concluded, rubbing his jaw.

You agreed to stay away from your own child? She almost said the words aloud, but something held her back. This whole situation was getting harder and harder to accept.

“Who else knows you’re alive?” she asked, picturing the whole town whispering behind her back, pitying her in her ignorance.

“My folks, but that’s about it. They retired in Tyler after they sold the ranch, and that’s where I’ve been living, too, where I could keep an eye on them.”

“How are they doing?” She was ashamed to admit she hadn’t kept up with the elder Mercers. She had been to see them a few times after Jake’s supposed death, which they’d taken hard. But after marrying Charlie— and as her pregnancy advanced—visiting the Mercers had seemed awkward, so she’d gradually let them slip away from her.

“They’re holding their own,” Jake replied with an unmistakable note of fondness. “I’d swear they aged ten years during the months I was gone, but they’re doing better now. Anyway, I’ve made it a point to stay away from Winnefred. A couple of times I ran into people I knew, but I always managed to duck out of the way before they recognized me.”

“Then why now?” Laurie asked, finally verbalizing the question she was most anxious about.

He took a deep breath and sighed. “It was time.”

Laurie sighed, too, trying to adjust to this new reality. “You should have told me,” she finally said. “I’m not saying it would have been easy, but I’m not a child. I was, and am, capable of making responsible decisions.”

“Oh, you know how to make decisions, all right,” he retorted, a sudden bitterness in his voice. “It didn’t take you much time at all to decide to marry Charlie Birkett.”

Laurie blinked a couple of times as she felt the blood draining from her face. Jake didn’t know. He didn’t know that she’d gotten pregnant as a result of the one and only time they’d made love. He didn’t know that Wendy was his daughter. If he did, he would understand why she’d married Charlie so quickly.

How could Jake believe that she would marry anyone else if it hadn’t been absolutely necessary? How could he think she would treat their love so trivially? A denial was on the tip of her tongue. But again, something held her back. If she blurted out the truth now, it might have farreaching consequences, consequences she couldn’t even imagine.

Wendy had been born seven months to the day after Laurie and Charlie had wed. Anyone with a lick of sense could count, and had figured out that the baby was Jake’s, not Charlie’s. In fact, Laurie was sure there had been a fair amount of gossip about it at the time. But no one had said anything to her or Charlie directly. And Charlie had been such a proud and doting father, that soon the whole town had embraced the idea that Wendy was really his.

Laurie didn’t want that to change. Charlie had earned his place as Wendy’s father. He had delighted in everything the child did, from kicking in the womb to flinging baby food on his good shirt. He had been as supportive of Laurie’s situation as a man could be, and as devoted to Wendy as if the baby carried his genes. No one—not even Jake—was going to belittle Charlie’s role in her family or dishonor his memory.

So she kept silent. She had to think carefully about this. She had to weigh Jake’s right to know the truth with the possible repercussions.

“You’re not even going to comment?” Jake asked, crossing his arms.

“No, I’m not,” Laurie replied succinctly. She took a sip of her water to avoid looking into those steel blue eyes, afraid he would see that she was holding something back. Silence stretched uncomfortably between them. She could hear the old mantel clock ticking in the living room, and Maurice’s mongrel dog barking at something.

Clearly frustrated, Jake rose abruptly and walked to the back door, then gazed out pensively at the mild spring day. “Steering clear of you seemed like the right decision at the time,” he said. “Now, I’m not so sure. When I think about the years we lost, I have to wonder if I shouldn’t have been more selfish about the whole thing. Maybe I should have barged in and tried to break up your marriage.” He turned suddenly. “Would that have been better than my staying away?”

“You couldn’t have broken up my marriage,” she said. That was the one thing she was utterly sure of. Her marriage to Charlie may have lacked passion, but it had been strong in every other respect. She wouldn’t have hurt that man for anything in the world, not even for Jake.

A muscle ticked in Jake’s jaw. “Maybe that was why I stayed away. During those months in Costa Rica, thoughts of you were sometimes all that kept me alive. When I came back and found you were married…”

He must have been terribly hurt, she thought, though he would never put it in those terms.

“Maybe I was afraid you would turn me away,” he said, “so I never even tried.”

Her heart ached for him. She wanted to explain, but she couldn’t, not yet. She had to give it some thought. And she couldn’t think with Jake’s overwhelming presence filling her kitchen and stealing her breath away every time she looked at him. Maturity had only sharpened his already awesome virility.

“Well, I’m glad you finally came forward,” she said, the words woefully inadequate. “I’m glad you’re not…”

“Not dead?”

That’s what she’d been thinking, and it sounded awful. “Jake, I’m just too shocked to know what to say or how I feel. I think it would be better if you left.” Before she said or did anything really stupid—like throwing her arms around him and absorbing his sheer aliveness.

He shook his head. “Not yet. I still have some business I want to discuss with you.”

“What business?” she asked warily.

“I saw your ad in the Tyler paper. The one for the ranch manager,” he added, as if she ran dozens of ads and needed clarification.

“And?”

“I’d like to apply for the position.”

“Jake, don’t be ridiculous!” she exploded. “Where would you get a fool notion like that?”

“Now, wait a minute, hear me out. It’s not as crazy as it sounds.”

“The hell it’s not. You can’t—”

“Laurie, let me explain.”

She clamped her mouth shut. Apparently Jake was going tosay his piece, and she wouldn’t get him out of here until she let him.

“Now, then. I’ve heard some rumors that you’re having problems here, and I can see just by looking around that they’re true. Also, I know that you wouldn’t be trying to hire a manager if you didn’t need help. Just how bad is it?”

She considered lying. She didn’t want to appear any more vulnerable to Jake than she already did. But she was afraid the sheer misery of her situation would shine through no matter what she said. “It’s pretty bad,” she confessed. “Our insurance wasn’t adequate to cover the medical bills.”

That was an understatement.

“I thought I could scrape by. I sold off some of the stock, but that cut into the Folly’s income. Since then I’ve made some bad decisions.” She shrugged helplessly.

Jake nodded, as if he’d suspected as much. “How do you intend to pay your new manager’s salary?”

“Well…I was hoping to work something out. The position offers a nice little house, and I’d cook all the meals, like I already do for Maurice. Beyond that, I thought maybe some type of profit-sharing arrangement. The better job the manager does, the more money he makes.”

Jake was shaking his head.

“It could work,” Laurie said defensively.

“Have you had any qualified applicants?”

“Frankly, no, but the ad’s only been running a few days.”

“And do you honestly think a qualified applicant would work for you under those terms?”

“If he has vision,” she answered. “If he’s confident he can turn things around. The Folly once made bushels of money—and it will again. Anyway, if you think it’s such a bad deal, why are you considering it?”

“Several reasons,” he said, pacing the kitchen like a lawyer preparing to give a closing argument. “One, I know horses.”

“You grew up with cattle,” she said pointedly.

“But you can’t run cattle without horses, and I’ve bought and sold more than a few. I might not be Charlie’s equal when it comes to his knowledge about breeding, but it can’t be that different from breeding cattle.”

She suspected it was a lot different, but since she knew nothing about cattle, she couldn’t offer an intelligent argument. So she nodded, conceding the point.

“Two,” Jake continued, ticking his points off on his fingers, “I don’t need money, so it doesn’t matter what you pay me.”

“You don’t need money?” she repeated, incredulous. She’d never met anyone who would admit that. Even rich folks who already had lots of money always claimed to need more.

“The government gave me a generous settlement for my, er, unscheduled vacation in Costa Rica,” he said with a wry smile. “Actually, it was hush money. I was shot by my own man, the accounts of my death were falsified, and they made no effort to secure my release. They knew that, with a few well-chosen words in the right ears, I could have opened a huge can of worms. Not that I would have. I didn’t need that kind of aggravation. But I didn’t turn down the settlement.”

“Okay, so you’re set for life. That still doesn’t explain why you would want to.come here. Make no mistake, the manager’s job won’t be easy.”

“Maybe I need a challenge,” Jake said, reclaiming his chair across from her. “Maybe I need a change. I’ve been drifting aimlessly too long.” He leaned across the table, until his face was uncomfortably close to hers. “But mostly, I want the job because I owe you something, Laurie. I promised to marry you, and I broke that promise. I put you through quite a bit of distress, I imagine.”

“Distress? How about a living hell?” she retorted, suddenly angry again. Years ago she’d sworn she would never forgive him for leaving her alone, and that still held true.

“Must have been some living hell,” he said, his fury matching hers. “Took you all of two months to find a replacement groom.”

Perhaps he had a point, Laurie silently conceded. It must seem to Jake as if she’d gotten over her heartbreak pretty quickly. “Charlie helped me through it,” she said simply. It was the truth.

“If I could go back and relive that day,” Jake said quietly, “and do things differently, I would. Obviously I can’t. But if I can help you out of this situation…”

“No,” she said. “Not to soothe your conscience, not even if I really believed you could get me out of the mess I’m in. It could never work.”

“You won’t even consider it? On a temporary basis?”

“Absolutely not.” The thought of seeing him every day, cooking dinner for him every night, brushed uncomfortably close to those girlish fantasies she’d once had before Jake’s disappearance had shattered her life. Those dreams were wrapped securely in mental tissue paper and pushed far to the back of her mind—and they weren’t getting out.

“You’re being unreasonable,” he said, rising slowly from his chair, towering over her intimidatingly. “If you don’t get some help, and soon, you could lose the Folly.”

She knew that, dammit. “I’ll get some help. But not from you.” Standing also, she stared at him, refusing to back down even an inch. That old electricity arced between them, and for one insane moment she thought he was looking not into her eyes, but at her mouth, and that he was thinking about kissing her.

The phone rang, cutting through the tension. Laurie turned abruptly to answer the old black wall phone. “Hello?”

Jake continued to watch her as he took a few steadying breaths. God, she was magnificent. She’d been a fiery, passionate girl when he’d last seen her. Now she was unmistakably a woman. Motherhood had added curves to her previously boyish figure. More importantly, the hardships she’d endured over the past four years had given her depth and maturity, and a certain air of mystery, too.

He had always been drawn to her, intrigued by her, and seriously attracted to her. During her absence from his life, that attraction hadn’t diminished one iota. If anything, it was sharper, more intense, than ever.

He wished she hadn’t cut her hair. He could still remember, as if it had been yesterday, the single night of passion they’d shared. He recalled the silky feel of her hair all around him, his fingers tangling in the long strands.

A change in her tone of voice brought Jake’s attention back to the present. Who was she talking to?

“You’re telling me there’s no hope, that he’s finished?” Laurie gripped the phone receiver so tightly her knuckles turned white. She nodded, biting her lower lip.

“Laurie, what’s wrong?” Jake asked, moving around the table.

She turned away from him and faced the wall, but not before he could see that her eyes were unnaturally shiny. “All right. I’ll have to think about it. I’ll call in the morning.” She hung up, chewing on her lip again.

“Laurie?” Unconsciously he reached out to touch her, but she shied away from him like a skittish filly. “C’mon, Laurie, tell me what the problem is. Maybe I can help.”

“It’s…it’s Flash in the Pan.”

The Folly’s highly sought-after stud. A two-time national quarter-horse champion more than a decade ago, Flash was the ranch’s claim to fame and the source of a great deal of income. Mares were shipped from all over the country to be bred with the old stallion. Jake’s own horse, Flash Lightning, had been sired by the original Flash.

“Is he sick?” Jake asked.

“In a manner of speaking. Last week, I decided to breed Flash with a new filly. She’d never been bred before, but she’s the gentlest of creatures, and Flash is just a big old teddy bear. We—Maurice and I, that is—decided it would be okay just to turn them loose in the paddock and let nature take its course.”

Jake winced. He had a feeling he knew what was coming next.

“Well, it wasn’t okay. That ornery mare kicked him where it counts. My vet’s been running tests on him, and she says Flash is permanently out of commission. Finished as a stud. She says I should have him g-gelded…” With that, the tears in her eyes spilled over.

“Oh, Laurie,” Jake said, reaching for her again. This time she didn’t stop him when he pulled her against his chest, but neither did she fully accept his comfort. She stood stiffly with his arms around her, sniffling miserably.

Laurie had never been weepy. Even as a little girl, when she’d fallen down or hurt herself, she’d struggled not to cry, especially if any boy, Jake included, was around to tease her. Jake could count on one hand the number of times he’d actually seen her give in to tears. One of those times was when he’d asked her to marry him.

Jake rubbed her back with one hand and stroked her hair with the other. Her hair was as soft as he remembered, and it still smelled like green apples. He struggled to keep his hormones firmly under control. She was not exactly receptive to his attempt at comfort; he could just imagine what her reaction would be if she sensed his desire for her.

“It’ll be okay,” he crooned. “Flash is a tough guy, from what I hear. He’ll come through this just fine.”

But Jake knew she wasn’t upset merely out of concern for the horse. Losing Flash’s stud service could be a fatal blow to the struggling Folly. But not if Jake had anything to say about it. As it turned out, Flash’s unhappy experience had given Jake the opening he needed, the ammunition that would convince Laurie he was the right man for the manager’s job.

“Let go of me,” Laurie said haughtily when she’d gotten the tears under control. “I can cry just fine without you.”

Jake chuckled. “But why, when I have this big wide shoulder here to accommodate you?” Just the same, he released her, giving her shoulder one final pat.

She grabbed a paper napkin off the table and wiped her face. “I don’t know why I’m getting so upset about this. Flash is an old horse. His macho days were numbered, anyway. His sperm count was getting lower every time I had him checked.”

Jake stifled a chuckle. The old Laurie he’d known, his child bride, would never have talked so casually in front of him about sperm count. He supposed that living on a breeding farm for four years had toughened her up a bit.

“You have other studs, right?” he asked.

“None with Flash’s lineage, or anything close to his reputation. People sought him out as much for his temperament as for his bloodline. He’s so gentle.”

That’s what Jake wanted to hear. “So you’ve never kept one of Flash’s sons or grandsons around as a backup?”

“Oh, we did, for a while. That was always Charlie’s plan. But I sold him. Some rancher from Oklahoma offered me so much money for him I couldn’t turn him down.”

“What if I could get you the services of one of Flash’s sons…for free?”

Laurie looked at him suspiciously, but curiously, too. “What are you talking about?”

“I happen to own a certain stallion named Flash Lightning—sired by Flash in the Pan, out of Heat Lightning.”

“Heat Lightning? The Heat Lightning?”

“If you mean the grand champion barrel racer from Sulphur Springs, that’s the one.”

“How did you come by this horse?”

“His leg was shattered in a freak accident at a horse show I was at. They were talking about destroying him— his competition days were obviously over. But I couldn’t stand to see such a beautiful animal destroyed, so I bought him and rehabilitated him. He’s still lame, but I don’t think that would interfere with his other capabilities.”

Jake could almost see the wheels spinning in Laurie’s mind. “How come I’ve never heard of this horse?”

“He didn’t have much of a chance to earn a reputation for himself before his accident, but he showed a lot of potential. And I’ve never offered him up for stud because I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.”

“But you’d let me use him…for free?”

“Provided you give me the manager’s job. And, Laurie, Lightning is the spitting image of Flash in the Pan, right down to the white star on his chest. They could be twins.”

She opened her mouth to object, then clamped her mouth closed. Her expression was pensive. Jake could tell she was warring with herself, weighing the temptation of having Flash’s son at her disposal with the inconvenience of having Jake himself underfoot.

“What if things didn’t work out?” Laurie asked. “What if you turn out to be a worse manager than me?”

“Give me five minutes’ notice, and I’ll leave.” But he was pretty confident that wouldn’t be the case. He would work his butt off to get this place back in shape.

If Laurie did end up kicking him off Birkett’s Folly, it probably would be for a different reason. He’d had no intention of pursuing her, or engaging her in anything other than a friendly but professional relationship. He figured he’d given up the right to anything more the day he’d left her standing at the altar. But ever since he’d held her, filling his lungs with her scent, feeling her warmth and softness against him, he’d realized he would have a helluva time keeping his hands off her.

Laurie gave him a penetrating look. He stared back, waiting for her decision.

“When could you start?” she asked in a less-thanconf ident voice.

Jake banked his elation. She was actually going to do it! “Is the house ready?”

She nodded. “It’s clean, and the lights and water are turned on. There’s some furniture, though not much, and nothing in the way of sheets and towels.”

“I’ve got everything I need. I’ll move in tonight, and I can start first thing in the morning.”

Laurie nodded, not looking at all happy.

“You won’t regret it, hon—Laurie, I promise.” Damn, he’d almost called her “honey.” It sure would be easy to fall into old habits, and that could get him in trouble. He shoved his Stetson on his head and got the heck out of there, before he could say or do anything else stupid.

Before she changed her mind.




Three (#ulink_e874afe2-f903-530e-9cfa-595495e8a792)


Laurie stared out the kitchen window, mesmerized, watching Jake walk around the barn taking notes, while Maurice pointed out leaks and storm damage. In his comfortably worn jeans and western shirt, Jake looked leaner, tougher, than Laurie remembered. And although he’d never been what she would term “cheerful,” he used to smile every so often. Now it seemed as if that solemn scowl never left his face.

His mood didn’t matter, she reminded herself. The only important thing was for Jake to do the job he’d been hired for, and so far his performance looked promising. He’d been at the Folly less than twelve hours, and already he was taking charge—inventorying the stock, making lists, setting priorities.

On one hand, his presence was comforting. Laurie was tired of dealing with the endless problems of running the Folly, and letting someone else take control of all her worries had a certain appeal. On the other hand, having Jake so close by was disturbing, setting off a chain reaction of awareness within her that had kept her awake last night, her body thrumming uncomfortably.

“Mommy, something stinks.”

“What? Oh, no, the hash browns!” Laurie quickly pulled the cast-iron skillet off the burner and stirred the potatoes. A black layer had formed on the bottom of the pan, and she spent the next five minutes picking out the most burned pieces and dropping them into the trash.

That would teach her to stare out the window in the middle of cooking a meal, even if the view was more riveting than usual. She had to get hold of herself. She had to think of Jake as just another employee, not her former lover, or she wouldn’t be able to function.

Wendy watched curiously from her booster chair, where she’d been sitting and drinking a glass of orange juice. “Did you burn something, Mommy?” she asked.

“Just a little. It’s fine now,” Laurie answered absently. “I think breakfast is ready. Would you go outside and ring the bell, please?”

Wendy scrambled out of her chair, eager to perform her favorite task. But she stopped at the door and looked at the four place settings on the table, her little brows drawn together as she put the pieces together. “Is Jake eating with us?”

“Yes, he is. And don’t call him Jake, sweetie, call him Mr. Mercer.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a grown-up, and children shouldn’t call grown-ups by their first names.”

“What about Maurice?”

“That’s different,” Laurie said. “He’s practically part of the family.”

“Then why can’t he be my daddy?”

Laurie sighed. “He just can’t be, okay? Now go ring the bell.”

Wendy reached for the doorknob and twisted it, quietly chanting, “Mr. Merster, Mr. Merster.” Just before she walked outside, she turned back to Laurie. “Jake’s easier to say.”

Laurie shook her head. She had a feeling that her efforts to keep Wendy and Jake away from each other would be in vain. The two seemed to have a sensitivity to one another, almost as if they both knew, on some subconscious level, that they were father and daughter. Last night, when Jake had pulled into the driveway with his truck loaded with the belongings he intended to move into the manager’s house, Wendy had run out to greet him before Laurie could stop her. Then the child had jabbered nonstop as Jake had unloaded his belongings and taken them inside the little cottage.

Laurie had tried to take Wendy away, claiming that Jake should be left in peace while he was moving in, but Jake had insisted she stay. “Wendy’s gonna be my number-one ranch hand, so we better get to know each other, right?” he’d said, tickling Wendy’s chubby tummy.

Wendy had giggled, denying she was a ranch hand but obviously intrigued with the idea.

The old schoolhouse bell pealed as Wendy pulled strenuously on the rope. Laurie watched out the window as both Jake and Maurice looked up. Maurice waved to signal her that he’d heard, and Jake tipped his hat. Even at a distance, Laurie caught a glimpse of steel blue eyes—or maybe she only imagined them. Nonetheless, she shivered.

A few minutes later both men came into the kitchen. Jake’s sleeves were rolled up, revealing sinewy, tanned forearms, and his hair was damp and slicked back, evidence that he’d washed up at the old pump before coming in for breakfast. Laurie tried not to stare as she served up scrambled eggs with green peppers, homemade biscuits and the slightly crusty hash browns.

“Smells good,” Jake offered.

“Miz Laurie’s turned into the best cook in the county,” Maurice said, “though when she first came here she couldn’t boil water. She learned quick, though.”

Laurie’s gaze locked with Jake’s for an endless moment. How well she remembered his teasing her about her lack of cooking skills, insisting she ought to learn some domesticity if she wanted to keep her man home at night. And she had insisted, with a certain amount of suggestive body language, that she had other means of keeping her man’s attention.

Looking at him now, she had a feeling that he, too, was remembering those peppery dialogues they used to have. She glanced away and took her chair, busying herself with her napkin.

“Mommy burneded the taters,” Wendy announced.

“They are a bit browner than usual,” Maurice said.

“Better crispy than raw,” Jake added, taking a large bite of the hash browns.

Laurie stood abruptly. “You’re right, they’re too brown. I’ll make some more,” she said, moving to the refrigerator. “The potatoes are already shredded, I just have to fry them up. Won’t take but—”

“Laurie, sit down,” Jake interrupted. “The hash browns are fine.”

“But it’s no trouble.”

“It’s not necessary. Sit down.”

Laurie bristled. How dare he order her around in her own house. Who was the boss here? Then she sighed. Jake could hardly be considered her employee when she wasn’t paying him. He was trying to bail her out of a mess. And right now, he was being very tolerant of a less-than-satisfactory breakfast.

Why was she so concerned that breakfast be perfect, anyway?

Laurie reclaimed her chair, and the rest of the meal passed quietly, punctuated only by Wendy’s oblivious chatter.

Maurice put his fork down with a gusty sigh of contentment and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Well, now, that was a mighty fine breakfast.”

Wendy giggled. “You always say that.”

“It’s always true. So, Sunshine, are you ready for another riding lesson this morning?”

Wendy’s china blue eyes lit up with delight. “Can I, Mommy?”

Laurie started to say yes, but Jake interrupted. “Maurice won’t have time for lessons this morning. We’ve got a full schedule.”

“Surely he can take off thirty minutes…” The look Jake gave Laurie pinched off her objection.

Jake turned his attention to Wendy, whose cherubic face was wreathed in disappointment. “How about we have your lesson this afternoon?”

The little girl smiled again, though not quite as brightly as before. “Okay, Mr. Merster.”

“Call me Jake.”

“Mommy said not to.”

Jake looked questioningly at Laurie.

“She’s not supposed to call adults by their first names,” Laurie said coolly. “It’s the way I was raised, and she’s being raised that way, too.”

“Okay, fine.” But Laurie didn’t miss the conspiratorial wink he flashed at Wendy, and she suspected that no matter what her preferences, her daughter would be calling Jake “Jake.”

Laurie stood and began clearing the dishes. “Wendy, honey, it’s time to feed the cats. Ask Maurice to help you.” She looked defiantly at Jake, daring him to countermand her orders.

He stared back, measuring, as he stood and donned his hat, but all he said was, “Thanks for breakfast.”

“Wait a minute,” she said, halting him at the door. “I’d like a word with you in private.”

He pulled his Stetson back off and held it, fidgeting, until Maurice and Wendy were gone. “Yes, ma’am?” he asked politely.

“Don’t use that patronizing tone with me. I’m still the boss here.”

“I never said you weren’t.”

“Wendy’s been taking riding lessons from Maurice twice a week for a month now, always right after breakfast. I don’t appreciate your interfering with her routine.”

“All I’m asking for is a slight postponement. I need Maurice’s help this morning. Flash Lightning is due to arrive here any minute, and we don’t even have a stall ready for him.”

Laurie crossed her arms, wanting to object, but knowing that what Jake had said was perfectly sensible.

“Look, Laurie, if you want to see results around here, you’re going to have to trust me. Cut me some slack. Let’s try things my way.”

“Trust you?” she repeated. “Trust is something you earn, Jake Mercer, and you haven’t even begun to earn it yet.”

“Then at least give me a chance to either succeed or fall on my face. I can’t do the job if I don’t have your support.”

Laurie thought for a few moments. He wasn’t asking for anything unreasonable. “Okay,” she finally said, though grudgingly. “I guess I’m a little out of sorts this morning. I still have to call the vet and tell her my decision about Flash.”

“I already did that. The surgery’s scheduled for tomorrow.”

Laurie’s mouth dropped open. “That was not your decision to make!”

Jake took a step closer until he towered over her. “Anything concerning the running of this ranch or the finances or the stock is my decision to make. If we disagree on that, then you might as well fire me right now.”

“I’m tempted!” She had to crane her neck to meet his electric blue gaze.

“Well?”

Her anger faltered. He knew damn well she wouldn’t fire him. She needed him. Turning away, she said quietly, “All right, we’re agreed. You have complete authority over the ranch. In return, I’ll ask that in the future you show some sensitivity where Wendy’s concerned. She doesn’t have a father, and the time she spends with Maurice is important to both of them.”

“Agreed. I’ll make sure she gets her riding lesson this afternoon. Which horse does she ride, anyway?”

“Tosca.” Laurie focused her gaze out the window toward the pasture. “The little red mare out there, grazing near the fence. She has a very sweet disposition.”

“She’s not so little, though.”

Laurie resumed clearing the table, and to her surprise, Jake helped. “Wendy will grow into her. Meanwhile, I just want to get her used to horses so she won’t be afraid of them the way I was.”

“You’re not anymore?” Jake asked. “I remember when you wouldn’t even touch a horse. When we were kids, I couldn’t get you on Paco’s back for love or money. You wouldn’t even ride behind me.”

“I wasn’t afraid of the horse, I was afraid of you,” she quipped. When she realized what she’d said, she was horrified. How easy it was to step back into their old roles, even after all this time.

“Why were you afraid of me?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

She couldn’t tell him the truth—that back in those days, when their mutual desires were first beginning to blossom, she was scared to death to go anywhere alone with him, afraid their innocent kisses would get out of control and she wouldn’t be able to stop him or herself.

She chose not to answer his question. “I’ll never be an expert rider, and certain horses still unnerve me,” she said, “but I like to ride now and then.”

“This I gotta see. I’ll be riding out to check fences this afternoon. Why don’t you come with me?”

“No, I’ll be much too busy,” she answered automatically.

“With what?” he challenged her. Their hands met under the faucet as they both went to rinse a dish at the same time.

Laurie jumped back as if she’d been branded. “With…with stuff, okay? I need to get my hair trimmed. And Wendy needs new clothes—she’s outgrowing everything.”

Jake dried his hands on a dishcloth. “Oh, that reminds me. You need to sit down and figure out what your monthly personal expenses are. I’ll be putting you on an allowance.”

Before she could even sputter an objection, he was gone.




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/karen-leabo/the-prodigal-groom/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.