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Kayla's Cowboy
Callie Endicott


It's never too late…right?Kayla Anderson is never going back to Montana. At least, that was the plan. But when her teenage son runs away to meet his great-grandparents, she ends up back in Schuyler…face to face with her high school sweetheart, rancher Jackson McGregor. It's complicated doesn't quite cover it, especially since Alex happens to be Jackson's son, too. Alex and his dad couldn't be more different, but Jackson will do anything to connect with his boy. And suddenly old wounds pale beside the possibility of a second chance under the wide Montana sky…







It’s never too late...right?

Kayla Anderson is never going back to Montana. At least, that was the plan. But when her teenage son runs away to meet his great-grandparents, she ends up back in Schuyler...face-to-face with her high school sweetheart, rancher Jackson McGregor. It’s complicated doesn’t quite cover it, especially since Alex happens to be Jackson’s son, too. Alex and his dad couldn’t be more different, but Jackson will do anything to connect with his boy. And suddenly old wounds pale beside the possibility of a second chance under the wide Montana sky...


No wonder Kayla disliked him.

And it was true that his parents hadn’t been happy he was dating her. So even if they’d known about Alex and supported her financially, she might have resented taking the money. On the other hand, she might have felt it was owed to her.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“I did okay.”

“You did better than okay,” he told her.

They fell silent again, but it was more comfortable this time. After exactly sixty minutes, DeeDee came running downstairs. “Can we swim now?” she pleaded. “There’s a neat pool house where we can change.”

“Sure,” Kayla told her. “I’ll go with you.”

Jackson went to his bedroom to put on his swim trunks, then headed outside.

Kayla stood next to the pool in her bathing suit, chatting with Morgan. She looked like a model in one of those “vacation paradise” magazine ads—long legs, hair fiery in the sun and a body that nearly made him howl.

He was in deep trouble.


Dear Reader (#ulink_6ab37a0d-c231-57de-be90-56058a902979),

Because my parents were older when I came along, camping was rarely a part of my childhood. The last time we went was before I turned five. I remember the family picking berries and my mom making a batch of jam from them. Having made jam myself, now, I know she was a little insane for doing it over a camp stove.

When my hero in Kayla’s Cowboy is struggling to find a way of connecting with his rebellious teenage daughter, as well as with the son he’s just met, sending everyone camping at Yellowstone seems like a good idea. Besides, Yellowstone is an amazing place, and it felt as if I got a vicarious visit to the park along with them.

But they have to return to reality—and one of Jackson McGregor’s realities is his attraction to his son’s mother, Kayla Anderson. That’s a big problem with their painful history, a mutual struggle to trust and the fact that he’s from Schuyler, Montana, while she lives in Seattle, Washington.

I enjoy hearing from readers. Please contact me c/o Mills & Boon Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, ON, M3B 3K9, Canada.

Callie Endicott


Kayla’s Cowboy

Callie Endicott






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


CALLIE ENDICOTT often wishes her life would slow down, but so far it doesn’t show any sign of cooperating. There aren’t enough hours in the day for everything she likes to do, whether it’s writing stories for her readers, hiking on a mountain trail, or walking on the beach. Reading is another passion for Callie, along with her cats (Myna and Winston), cooking and travel. Luckily, Myna and Winston are getting along better than they did in the beginning, but Myna remains stubbornly jealous of Callie’s guy.


To Teddy Roosevelt and the other visionaries who set aside the US National Parks.


Contents

Cover (#u696e598d-6aae-5e82-9615-554b91bc79a0)

Back Cover Text (#ueffb7fa6-57f0-53ba-90c6-8aee645f7219)

Introduction (#u2f21149c-6dad-5aa2-b9bd-954e33db35e6)

Dear Reader (#ulink_ab646237-f0e1-5552-a30b-9cd2fb8bc819)

Title Page (#u4da4c4ec-78f9-5b61-bc9d-f94d86202d25)

About the Author (#ua70a7c7f-8f71-502e-86d8-8e2186ee4593)

Dedication (#u4793fac9-7e15-5ba0-ab0e-75def35761b9)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_e7c720ec-2085-589d-884e-cc85bd8ec687)

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_fed3016d-7393-5754-8741-e4f3d511e25f)

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_6a2b1643-6c00-54d7-b48b-5ac20e031096)

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_74bb84b1-73bf-5cb6-959d-7e68789332ae)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_bdd67e46-a231-5481-9778-869b0a24f7c0)

KAYLA ANDERSON STARED at the sign indicating she was still more than a hundred miles from Schuyler, Montana. After driving all night from Seattle, she was exhausted. And scared.

A hitchhiker caught her eye and she leaned forward to get a better look. She sagged with disappointment. It wasn’t her son.

Had Alex gotten this far?

Fifteen-year-old kids couldn’t rent cars, though they could take a train or bus without raising too many questions.

She shuddered at the idea of her son hitchhiking. Surely he had better sense. Of course, she’d never dreamed he would run away during his two-week visitation with his dad and head for Montana on his own. And how could Curtis have waited all day to let her know Alex was missing? She’d rushed home to see if Alex had come back, only to find a note explaining where he’d gone. Despite that, Curtis still hadn’t been concerned, certain Alex was just “exerting his independence.”

Her smartphone sounded with a chime indicating she had a voice mail. Could it be Alex? She’d gotten a signal off and on the whole night. Pulling off the road, Kayla checked her messages.

“Kayla, this is your grandfather. Don’t worry, Alex is here and he’s all right. I imagine you’re on your way. Travel safe, and we’ll see you soon.”

Kayla let out a shaky, relieved breath. She still had dozens of questions, but the most important one was answered. Her son was safe, instead of lying in a ditch or kidnapped, or any of the other terrible things her imagination had conjured. She debated calling her grandparents but decided to wait until they were face-to-face.

Glancing into the rear seat, she saw her nine-year-old daughter was asleep again, the wrappers from her fast-food breakfast scattered on the floor. Curtis had said it was ridiculous to bring DeeDee with her, but he hadn’t been that upset to have his time with the kids cut by a few days. As she’d learned during their marriage, Curtis Anderson had a short attention span. Since their divorce he’d slid from one relationship to another. His work history was the same.

Kayla’s mouth tightened and she tried to remember that her ex-husband wasn’t a terrible father. And he had wanted to adopt Alex from the very beginning. He’d just never grown up. He adored romance and falling in love and playing daddy, but relationships were beyond him. He was now on his third marriage since their divorce. Kayla no longer cared, but it was hard on the kids.

Before getting on the road again, she called Curtis to tell him Alex was safe. Two hours later, they passed the Schuyler city-limit sign. Her terror had subsided, but other anxieties had surfaced; the last thing she’d ever wanted was return here.

It wasn’t that she’d hated Schuyler. In fact, she’d had high hopes when she and Mom had moved into her grandparents’ home. Though it was the first time Kayla had met them, she’d thought the Garrisons were nice and she had started making friends at high school. But less than a year later Mom had been hitting the bottle even harder and they were on the road again. As far as Kayla knew, her mother hadn’t spoken to her parents since then.

Kayla pulled up in front of a three-story house that hadn’t changed since the day her mother had driven them away from it. As she hurried up the walkway, the front door opened and a familiar figure emerged—like the house, Elizabeth Garrison also appeared unchanged by the years, except that her brown hair was now shot with gray.

“He’s all right,” Elizabeth assured quickly.

“I know, I got Granddad’s message.”

“Good. We called the home phone as well but figured you were already on your way.”

“Where’s Alex?”

“He’s gone to the office with your grandfather to clean and organize the supply room.” Elizabeth’s eyes crinkled with a gentle humor. “We decided it was a suitably mundane thing for a kid to do after running away.”

Kayla agreed with a shaky laugh. “What’s the number?” she asked, taking out her phone. “I need to hear his voice.”

She punched in the numbers and the secretary put her through to her grandfather, who told her how much he loved her before passing the phone to Alex.

“Uh, hello?” her son said cautiously.

“Are you all right?” Kayla demanded.

“I’m fine, Mom, just dusty from some boxes that haven’t been moved in, like, forever.”

“We’ll talk later. We’ll talk a lot,” she warned.

“I kind of figured.”

After hanging up, she couldn’t keep the tears from stinging into her eyes.

Elizabeth gave her a quick hug before drawing away to gaze at her intently. “Oh, honey. It’s so good to see you.”

“I’m sorry it’s been so long,” Kayla managed to say.

“You’re here now, that’s what matters.”

Kayla still felt bad. She’d had little contact with her grandparents herself over the past sixteen years—just Christmas and birthday cards. That was fine for distant relatives, but the months she’d spent with the Garrisons as a teenager had been the happiest of her childhood. They’d even invited her to stay instead of leaving town with her mother. But Kayla hadn’t been able to bear the thought of Mom being alone. Besides, she couldn’t have stayed in Schuyler, not after Jackson had declared that he’d always used a condom, so the baby couldn’t possibly be his.

The memory might hurt more if she’d really loved Jackson McGregor, instead of having a short-lived crush. Still, crush or not, she’d ended up pregnant. And while she could never be sorry about having Alex, it hadn’t been easy.

Pushing the thought away, Kayla squared her shoulders. “There’s something I should tell you—about Alex, I mean.”

“It isn’t necessary,” Elizabeth answered. “Until I saw him in person I hadn’t realized how much he looks like the McGregors. A certain McGregor, as a matter of fact. As I recall, the two of you were quite an item for a while.”

Kayla winced. “Yes. And by the way, Alex doesn’t know Curtis isn’t his biological father. He adopted Alex right after we were married, and wanted to wait before telling him.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t say anything. Where’s DeeDee?” Elizabeth asked. “Is she still in Seattle?”

“She’s in the car, asleep.”

Elizabeth’s eyes lit up and she rushed to look through the Volvo’s back window at her great-granddaughter. “She didn’t wake up when you turned off the engine?”

“Most kids probably would have.” Kayla let out a tired chuckle.

“She looks so sweet lying there, curled up like a kitten.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. That’s my wild child.” Kayla’s humor faded. “At least she was until Alex pulled this stunt.”

“Well, he’s fine, and as hard as it’s been for you, I can’t be completely sorry. It’s wonderful to see you.”

Her throat choking up, Kayla dashed a hand across her eyes. Lord, she was getting soft. At sixteen she hadn’t given in to weepiness, not even when hopped up on pregnancy hormones.

“I take it you drove from Seattle, instead of flying and renting a car?” Elizabeth asked.

Kayla nodded. Her grandmother must have noticed the Washington state license plate and the “My kid is an honor student at...” bumper stickers on the Volvo, showing it wasn’t a rental.

“I wanted to watch along the roads,” Kayla explained.

The Volvo door opened and DeeDee tumbled out, looking rumpled and drowsy. “Mom, I’m hungry.”

“That’s something I can fix,” Elizabeth offered eagerly.

“First things first,” Kayla said. “DeeDee, this is your great-grandmother, Elizabeth Garrison.”

DeeDee stared at Elizabeth. “I thought you’d be ancient. I mean, great-grandmothers are old, aren’t they?”

“Not all of them,” Elizabeth said with a grin, showing no hint of discomfort.

No, the Garrisons weren’t very old to be great-grandparents of a teenager, not with a daughter and granddaughter who’d gotten pregnant as teens themselves.

Kayla followed Elizabeth and DeeDee into the house and a wave of memories swept over her. She’d only lived there for a short time, but she had liked the house and her grandparents and even Schuyler itself, no matter how much she’d felt out of place.

“Where’s the bathroom?” DeeDee asked.

Elizabeth took her down the hall, then returned. “Kayla, dear, lie down on the couch and get some rest. DeeDee and I will put a meal together.”

“I should help or...” Kayla’s protest trailed. Now that she’d spoken to Alex, a different tension was asserting itself—the anticipation of facing the consequences of being in Schuyler again. All the same, she felt limp with exhaustion.

“Let it go for now,” urged her grandmother. “At least for today, someone has your back.”

Tears stung Kayla’s eyes again. Staying strong for her children was a necessary habit, particularly since the divorce, but she felt safe in her grandparents’ home and knew her son and daughter were just as safe. So she smiled wearily, kissed her grandmother on the cheek and sank onto the comfortable sofa. It wasn’t long before reality drifted away.

The clock was chiming two when she woke. Standing, she went down the bathroom and glanced into the mirror. Yikes, DeeDee would claim she looked worse than the cryptkeeper’s wife. Fetching her purse, she found a brush to tame her long auburn hair, though there wasn’t anything she could do about the circles under her blue eyes. She blinked. It had never occurred to her before, but she had her grandmother’s eyes. The resemblance pleased her.

Kayla washed her face and applied lip gloss, wishing makeup was her thing so she could use it to put on a brave face. Instead, she straightened and headed for the kitchen.

DeeDee looked up from her plate of spaghetti. “Hi, Mom. Grandma said to let you sleep. She told me you call them Grams and Granddad, but that we could say ‘Grandma’ and ‘Grandpa’ instead of saying ‘Great’ all the time.”

“Where is she?”

“Bringing in the wash or something.”

That was right. Elizabeth loved the smell of clothing hung out to dry in the fresh air.

Kayla served herself spaghetti and salad and began eating, the taste of her grandmother’s food carrying her into the past.

“I wanna go explore,” DeeDee said as she sucked a last strand of pasta into her mouth. “Can I walk downtown? Grandma says it’s only a couple of blocks.”

Kayla thought about it. She tried not to be overprotective. Fortunately her kids were growing up in better circumstances than she’d experienced during most of her own childhood, but there were still dangers, even in a town the size of Schuyler. Since the divorce, it had been even more of a challenge to find a workable balance. Nevertheless, DeeDee was very independent at almost ten, and would rebel if kept on too tight of a parental leash.

“Okay,” she told her daughter, “but you know the drill.”

DeeDee rolled her eyes. “I got my phone and I won’t let anyone close and will scream my head off if anyone tries to lay a finger on me.”

“And?” Kayla prompted.

“And I’ll be back in two hours and call in the middle to say I’m okay.”

“Then, have fun.”

“Grandma says there’s an ice cream parlor downtown called the Schuyler Soda Saloon.” DeeDee had a hopeful look in her eyes.

“You can get three dollars out of my purse to have a cone.”

“Thanks, Mom.” DeeDee dropped a kiss on her forehead and rushed away.

“It must be hard letting her out of your sight,” Elizabeth observed as she came through the screen door and put a basket of dry laundry on the chair next to Kayla.

Kayla picked up a towel and inhaled the scent of the warm Montana day. She glanced at her grandmother. “It’s never easy. I want to keep her safe at all costs, and then I try to let go, only to worry that I’m letting her have too much freedom.”

“I have a feeling you’re a pretty good mom.”

“Right. I have a fifteen-year-old son who ran away to Montana.”

“I know, but he let you know where he was going. Alex is a good kid. That can’t have changed because of one wild act.”

Wearily, Kayla ate her last bite of spaghetti and stood up. “I realize that. He’s never been rebellious. Art and history are his favorite subjects, and he’s strong enough not to be afraid of being labeled a geek. Not that he enjoys the teasing, but he shrugs it off.”

“Let’s get your luggage in from the car,” Elizabeth suggested after they’d cleaned the kitchen. “You’re staying for a while, aren’t you? Maybe a week or two?” she added hopefully.

“I suppose, if it won’t be inconvenient.”

“You could move in forever and we’d be thrilled.”

“That’s awfully nice of you.” Kayla had a life and a business in Seattle that she couldn’t abandon, but she could stay for a while and let her grandparents get acquainted with DeeDee and Alex. The milk had already been spilled, so there was nothing to do except mop it up. A wry smile crossed her lips. Funny how often her grandmother’s old sayings still cropped up in her mind.

“You’ll be in your mother’s old room. I’ve already got Alex in the guest room, but I thought DeeDee might enjoy the attic bedroom.”

When Kayla carried her suitcase into her mother’s childhood room, she saw nothing had changed there, either. Even the posters Mom had tacked up before she and Dad had run off to conquer the world still hung on the walls. Instead of conquering anything, her father had died in an industrial accident a year later, and Mom had started drinking to deal with her pain.

Was love really worth all the anguish? Kayla sometimes wondered about it. Teenagers could fall genuinely in love, the way her parents had, but her mother hadn’t been able to deal with losing that love. Kayla had believed she loved Jackson, but the feeling had vanished with his harsh rejection and the onset of morning sickness. As for her marriage...? She’d loved Curtis—or at least the man she’d thought he was—only to have him throw it all away.

A hint of melancholy went through Kayla as she unpacked the clothing she’d put together so hastily. She had built a good life, though it wasn’t what she’d imagined when she was little.

“You...um, haven’t asked about Jackson,” Elizabeth ventured as Kayla returned to the living room.

“To be honest, he’s low on my list of priorities,” she answered. Jackson was the past, and she’d learned to focus on the present. Unfortunately, she’d have to deal with him now. Coming back to Schuyler was going to present a stack of challenges. A number of people had seen Alex, and some of them must have recognized his likeness to Jackson McGregor. Word would probably get around. As a kid she might have done nothing and hoped for the best, but she couldn’t do that with two children to think about.

Kayla grinned wryly.

Being a mother changed everything.

Elizabeth patted her hand. “In that case, how about a chocolate soda at the Schuyler Soda Saloon?”

Nostalgia made Kayla smile. Between her grandfather’s passion for huge bowls of ice cream and her grandmother’s penchant for having it in soda, she’d been well supplied with treats while living in Schuyler.

“It sounds good,” she agreed, “but I want to stop at Granddad’s office and see Alex first.”

“Sure, honey. I figured that’s what you’d want.”

Walking toward town with her grandmother was another echo from the past.

“In a way, it doesn’t seem that long since we last did this,” Elizabeth said, clearly thinking the same thing. “In others, it seems a century. So...um, how is your mother?”

Kayla made a face. “Still drinking. She made one stab at rehab and walked out after thirty-six hours. I don’t see her that often—it’s too hard on the kids. For that matter, I don’t even know where she is most of the time.”

She could see the pain in her grandmother’s eyes and wondered if she shouldn’t have mentioned the drinking.

“I’m not sure what we did wrong,” Elizabeth murmured.

“You can’t assume it was you. People just lose their way sometimes.”

“You didn’t.”

“I got pregnant at sixteen—hardly a sterling example of stability.”

Elizabeth shook her head firmly. “That was just a teenage misstep. It’s what you did afterward that’s important. We just wish you’d let us help.”

“That money you gave me when we left Schuyler was a big help.”

“I’m not just talking about money.”

“I know.” Kayla thought back through the years. “But Granddad was the mayor. I didn’t want what I’d done to embarrass either of you. Even now, there’s going to be gossip.”

“The hell with that,” Elizabeth shocked her by saying. She stopped and asked gently, “Is that why you stayed away?”

“Partly. I was the one who’d screwed up and felt I should deal with it. But it’s also because I didn’t want to see Jackson after some things he’d said. I guess life just...settled into a habit. Besides, it would have meant Alex finding out about his biological father, and Curtis didn’t want that.”

“I understand, but Alex spoke to a number of people while trying to find our house. I’ve already gotten calls about how much he resembles the McGregors,” Elizabeth said.

“I know, and word will get around to Jackson, as well. I’ll talk to Alex about it tonight.”

At her grandfather’s law office, Kayla didn’t scold her son, just gave him a fierce hug. “Be thinking about what you’re going to say later,” she said when he looked at her cautiously.

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m glad you’re helping Granddad,” she added.

Alex hastily went back to the stockroom where he’d been dusting and sorting office supplies.

Granddad was meeting with a client, so they continued walking downtown, her grandmother introducing her to everyone they saw. Schuyler still had the charm of a Western town with a blacksmith and farrier, saddle shop and spots for locals to hitch their horses if needed. It was just everyday life and tourists loved it.

As they stepped into the Schuyler Soda Saloon, the eerie workings of fate seemed to stir around them. Across the room she saw Jackson, or someone who looked an awful lot like him.

It had been sixteen years, and her old boyfriend’s face had become fuzzy in her memory. Now she was startled, realizing how much Alex took after Jackson. Yet as Jackson strode forward, some of the resemblance seemed to fade. Alex was a sweet, awkward, open-faced teenager, whereas Jackson radiated the pent-up energy of a stalking mountain lion.

Jackson cast a glance at her, kept walking, then stopped and turned around.

“Kayla Garrison?”

Kayla tensed, hoping gossip about Alex hadn’t gotten around quite this quickly. “Actually, it’s Kayla Anderson now. It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah, high school,” Jackson said. He stirred restlessly and his gaze swept the ice cream parlor.

“Is there a problem?” Elizabeth asked politely.

“No, nothing. Good to see you, Mrs. Garrison. Welcome back, Kayla.” Jackson tipped his cowboy hat to them and hurried out the door.

They ordered chocolate sodas and found a small corner table.

“I wonder what Jackson was doing here. He was never crazy about sweets,” Kayla murmured.

“Who knows? This is one of the local hot spots to get the latest gossip, though I admit he doesn’t seem to be one for idle chitchat. It could be something to do with his daughter—I hear she’s turned into a real handful.”

Kayla clenched her fingers, unable to decide how she felt about seeing her old boyfriend; she was too tired and frazzled. But meeting Jackson had emphasized the need to speak with Alex about his biological father as soon as possible. It wouldn’t be the easiest discussion. Maybe she shouldn’t have agreed to keep the adoption a secret, but it was what Curtis had wanted.

“I think we should change our order to takeout,” Elizabeth announced suddenly. She went to the old-fashioned marble counter and spoke to the cashier, returning a few minutes later with two large plastic cups.

Grateful, Kayla took hers and they headed for the door. They strolled around town, sipping their ice cream sodas and trying to catch up on the past sixteen years. Yet in the back of her mind, Kayla kept wondering if Jackson remembered his reaction when she’d told him she was pregnant...that he’d used condoms, so obviously the other boys were right about her sleep-around reputation.

Kayla straightened her back. Her son was safe and she’d already weathered some of the worst stuff life could throw at her. She would handle Jackson, one way or the other.

* * *

“I HATE YOU,” Morgan yelled, her blond hair bouncing. “Go ahead, hate me back.”

Jackson McGregor glared at his daughter, though he still chose his words carefully. Unfortunately, he’d had plenty of practice lately. “I don’t hate you,” he said. “But right now I’m struggling to like you as much as I usually do.”

“You think you’re so clever. Why can’t I go to the lake for the weekend?”

“At your age? A girl? With a bunch of the wildest kids in school, with no adults? Do you think I’ve lost my mind?”

Morgan stomped her foot. “If I was a guy you’d let me go, and that’s not fair. It’s a...a double standard. The other kids will think I’m a nun. Can’t you try to remember what it was like in high school?”

“I remember all too well, and I’ll be damned if I make it easy for you to repeat my mistakes.”

“Yeah, I know all about your mistakes.”

“Then, you should realize that I know what I’m talking about,” he told her.

“Yeah, you had fun, but you don’t want me to have any at all.”

Jackson counted to ten as his daughter disappeared around the corner of the barn. Morgan had always been strong willed, but lately she’d gone completely ornery and seemed determined to drive him crazy. It was a miracle if a day passed without a shouting match. As for being grounded, she did her best to make it appear as if she was disobeying him. Just that afternoon she’d hidden in the hayloft of one of the barns, letting him think she’d sneaked into town. He’d wasted hours looking for her. Lately he’d been in Schuyler far too often, tracking her down for one reason or another.

Just a few months ago she’d hacked her hair into a hideous spiky cut. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she’d begun adding a dramatic fluorescent streak down one side, using a selection of temporary dyes. Every morning it had been a different color. Though her hair had grown out, it put him on edge, wondering what she’d do next. Hell, much as he loved her, raising a boy might have been easier.

Jackson trotted up the patio steps and into the house, tempted to call his mother and ask for advice. But it wasn’t fair to load his problems onto her. His parents had raised their own family and two of his cousins, as well. They’d done their duty.

He glanced at Flora, the woman he’d hired to keep house. “Any pearls of wisdom to share?” he asked.

Flora shrugged. “Afraid not.” She was sitting at the kitchen table, snapping string beans. She worked hard and was a great cook but hadn’t connected with Morgan as much as he’d hoped. Not that it was a housekeeper’s job to provide motherly guidance.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “I thought you were spending the night in town.”

“My sister canceled on me. She got a hot date at the last minute.”

The brevity of the comment made him wonder if Stella was going out again with his great-uncle, who was definitely enjoying his retirement. The image of Stella Charlton on a hot date with Uncle Mitch was almost too much for Jackson’s stressed-out brain. Stella was a gum-snapping, determined strawberry blonde, whose ample curves were often poured into the kind of tight clothes normally seen on a twenty-year-old.

He drew a deep breath, trying to dispel the mental picture of Uncle Mitch and Stella together.

“Er...Morgan wants to go camping at Flathead Lake with friends from school, a totally teen party of girls and guys.”

“She should know better than to ask.”

Yeah, she should. But lately it seemed as if his daughter was determined to cross every line, test every boundary and break every rule she could find. And she was so blasted angry while she did it. Who’d have guessed that she used to be a sweet kid who loved to spend time with her daddy while he worked on the ranch?

Jackson rubbed the tense muscles on the back of his neck. What was he doing wrong? And now Morgan was throwing out comments about his teenage exploits...?

Hell. He’d tried to live down those years, but it was inevitable that she’d heard some of the stories. No doubt Morgan considered him a complete hypocrite and was angry that he was making her toe the line. But hypocrite or not, he didn’t intend to let his daughter head down the same road that he’d traveled. Not if he could prevent it.

Hmm. What if he tried to make her wear those dresses he’d bought her? Would traditional feminine clothes encourage her to behave more appropriately? But dresses weren’t practical on a ranch, and Morgan would just accuse him once again of having double standards.

“I’ll be out for a while,” he said.

“Going to ride fences?” Flora guessed.

“Yeah.”

As a rule, Jackson rode fences whenever he needed to think or to regain his cool. And with Morgan constantly acting out, he’d spent a lot of time in the saddle checking fence lines.

The next few hours allowed him to relax and clear his mind, only to get uptight again when Morgan refused to come out of her room for dinner.

After eating alone, he went into the ranch office, built on the side of the house so it wouldn’t intrude on the backyard or pool area. Paperwork wasn’t his favorite activity, but he dived into his breeding records with grim determination, only to have the office phone ring soon after he started.

Jackson reached to pick it up, then saw the caller ID on the display... K. Anderson.

He dropped his hand back to the desk.

Seeing Kayla that afternoon had brought a rush of mixed feelings. Pleasure at first—once he’d been fascinated by the outsider who was so different from the other girls in Schuyler. But the memory of their last discussion in high school had intruded on the pleasure. No guy enjoyed being treated as a chump, and Kayla’s claim that he’d gotten her pregnant had been ridiculous; he’d used protection and half his classmates had boasted about sleeping with her.

After a minute Jackson dialed in and listened to Kayla’s voice mail message.

“Jackson, this is Kayla Anderson. It’s urgent we speak as soon as possible. I’m staying with my grandparents, but please call my cell phone.” She gave the number and got off quickly.

He sat back and frowned.

What could Kayla want? Surely not the same old thing. She couldn’t hope to raise the issue again after so long. Or maybe she could. What was it about women and the way they thought?

Twenty minutes later a knock on the door provided a welcome distraction. Jackson got up to answer and found his younger brother there. Behind Josh the July sun glowed low on the horizon. It was a time of day Jackson especially loved on the ranch, but lately he’d been too distracted by dealing with Morgan to appreciate it.

“Hey, Josh. You want a beer?” Jackson went to his small office refrigerator and extracted a couple of bottles.

“Thanks.” Josh popped the lid and settled onto a chair with a groan.

“Something wrong?”

“Same as always. I came up from Texas since Grandpa was making noises as if he was finally ready to give up the ranch. Then I get here and it’s business as usual, so I’m heading back in a couple of weeks. I’d leave earlier, but you know Mom. I thought she’d have kittens when I said I wasn’t staying.”

Jackson nodded sympathetically. The family plan had been for him to get Great-Uncle Mitch’s ranch, and Josh their maternal grandfather’s place. The second part of the plan kept getting delayed.

“Never mind,” Josh said. “I just need to unwind.”

“Yeah.” Jackson thought for a moment, then opened his mouth. “You want to know something weird?” he asked. “I saw Kayla Garrison in town today, except she’s Kayla Anderson now. Remember her?”

“Who could forget Kayla? I saw her, too, on my way to the post office. She’s even hotter than in high school. Say, are you still interested in her?”

Jackson almost let out an emphatic no before recalling that Josh didn’t know the history between him and his old girlfriend.

“Can’t say that I am,” he said slowly.

“Then, would it bother you if I asked her out? That is, if I run into her.”

Jackson gulped a mouthful of beer rather than reply too quickly. He didn’t know what kind of woman Kayla had become, any more than he knew what she wanted to talk about with him. She might have even called to apologize for claiming he’d gotten her pregnant—unlikely, but not impossible.

He finally shrugged. “It makes no difference to me. Just employ the usual caution when it comes to women.”

“Amen to that, brother.”


CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_781c6cce-acb8-58e7-aee3-ae680c3f93a1)

ALEX SQUIRMED AS he listened to the faint murmur of his mother and her grandparents talking downstairs after dinner.

The discussion he’d dreaded all day was coming. Okay, so he’d been dreading it since the moment he’d decided to ditch Dad and head for Montana.

He just hadn’t been able to stand the way Dad got so excited about spending time with Brant, his new stepson, but didn’t seem to notice when his other two kids were around. Dad used to claim he didn’t care about sports, but now he was doing all that outdoor stuff with Brant and wasn’t interested in the things he and Alex had once done together. And it sounded as though the two of them had really gotten buddy-buddy on that camping trip they’d taken right after school got out.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Brant wasn’t such an obnoxious little creep.

Nah, Alex decided. Finding out his dad had adopted him when he was little would have been rough no matter what, though Brant being an obnoxious creep hadn’t helped.

Worst of all, Alex realized he should have figured it out a long time ago. He and Dad weren’t at all alike. Maybe, deep down, he had known and hadn’t wanted to admit it.

His sister slid into the room. “I gotta say,” DeeDee said, “I never thought you’d have the gazoomba to run away from home.”

Alex pulled himself up and faced the squirt. Why did she have to make up such strange words? You’d never know she was practically a genius. Maybe. Personally, he thought she’d just fooled the teachers and school counselor.

“I didn’t run away from home,” he informed her haughtily. “Guys who run away from home don’t leave letters to tell their mothers what they’re doing. Besides, I also emailed Sandy about it.” Sandy had been his best friend for as long as he could remember.

“That’s a technicality. Boy, was Mom pissed.”

“You’re too young to talk like that. Besides, Mom doesn’t get pissed, or at least I don’t think so.”

“Shows how much you know. She was pissed at Dad, too, at first because he thought you’d gone off for the day without telling anyone and hadn’t done anything about it, and then because he didn’t call her right off.”

“So she wasn’t mad at me?”

“Of course she was. Mom gets mad when she’s scared.”

“Really?”

DeeDee snickered. “You can build a computer, but you’re too much of an idiot to figure Mom out.”

“I wasn’t too much of an idiot to get here on my own, was I?” he countered.

“Probably just dumb luck.”

There was a knock on the door and Alex called, “Come in.”

It was Mom, and he couldn’t tell if she was angry or not. “DeeDee,” she said, “please go watch the baseball game with your grandpa.”

His sister grinned. “I’d rather stay and watch Alex get shredded.”

“Out.”

“Jeez, I never get to have any fun.”

“DeeDee,” Mom warned.

“Okay, okay.” His sister winked at him as she slid through the door.

“Close it,” Mom ordered.

“But closing it means I’ll have to work even harder to hear what you’re saying.”

“I don’t think so, young lady.” It was Grandpa, who’d come down the hallway and put his arm around DeeDee’s shoulders. “We’re going down to the family room to see how the Cubs are doing.”

“Okay.” DeeDee stuck her head back into the room again. “By the way, Alex, I am glad you didn’t get splattered on the road or kidnapped and taken by pirates to Shanghai or something. Surprised, but glad.”

“Get out of here, squirt.”

DeeDee simply grinned, and Alex was almost sorry when she was gone since their mother’s attention would have been split between them.

“Okay, I’m really sorry,” he rushed to say. “I guess it was a stupid thing to do, but I—”

“You guess it was stupid?” Mom interrupted, sounding incredulous. “I thought we’d brought you up with more sense than to do something so dangerous.” Her face was so tired and pale that Alex felt awful.

“You did, but...uh, Dad spends all his time with Brant and doesn’t notice us anymore, even when we’re there.” He’d meant to ask her about Dad adopting him, but the words got stuck in his throat.

Her lips pressed together, then relaxed. “What was the real reason? You’ve seen your dad in other relationships, and how he gets...er...swept up in them.” It was true—his father was an ass a lot of the time. Even when he was just dating some woman with a kid, he did the daddy thing with them and seemed to forget him and DeeDee.

Alex stuck his chin up. “Isn’t that good enough?”

Mom sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed the back of her neck. “Nothing’s good enough to justify a fifteen-year-old running off on his own. And why Schuyler? You could have come home if it bothered you that much.”

She was always so logical, it was hard to argue with her.

“I didn’t run away. I just took a...an unauthorized vacation.”

“You’re fifteen. An unauthorized vacation for a fifteen-year-old is running away.”

“Grandpa says he’s always admired the logical way you argue,” he said, hoping to avoid more questions. “He says you’d make a Vulcan proud. Imagine an old guy like that knowing about Star Trek.”

“Don’t try to slide around this, Alex. You scared me half to death. I almost...” Her voice choked up and he could swear she was ready to cry.

Crud. If he’d felt rotten before, now he was neck deep in pond scum. But it was mostly her fault, because she hadn’t told him the truth.

She straightened. “Alex, I want to know right now. Why did you run away?”

“I... Okay. That is, I thought...”

Now he wasn’t completely sure why he’d done it. He’d just been so angry the way Dad acted around Brant and how they’d kept the adoption a secret. Heck, he knew they’d gotten married three years after he was born, but that wasn’t unusual. Half his friends could tell the same story.

“I wanted to get back at Dad somehow, and you, too, I guess,” he blurted out.

“Why me?”

“Because you never told me that Dad isn’t my real father,” he said in a rush.

His mom’s face turned pale. “That was wrong,” she admitted slowly. “Your father wanted it that way, so I agreed. Later I knew it was a mistake, but Dad still thought it was best to wait. And it doesn’t change anything to say he isn’t your birth dad. He’s your real father. Adopting you was his idea. He really wanted to do it.”

She stopped talking and waited, but Alex didn’t know what to say.

“How did you find out?” she finally asked.

“From Brant. Dad told him when they went on that stupid ‘bonding’ camping trip.”

“Bonding?” Mom’s mouth tightened.

“That’s what Dad called it when he said I couldn’t go. I guess he was trying to be buddy-buddy with the obnoxious little creep. Brant couldn’t wait to spill everything.”

“Oh. Well, now that you know, you must have some questions.”

Mostly Alex had thought about how to run away without getting killed. Face it, he was a wimp. When he’d run away, he’d gone to his great-grandparents’ house; how lame could you get?

“Do you want to know anything about your biological father?” his mom prompted. “You have to hear about him now anyway. He lives in Schuyler.”

“Here?” Alex gulped.

“Yes, and since there’s a strong resemblance, folks in town may have already realized you’re his son.”

Alex nervously rubbed his nose. People had looked at him funny and said he seemed familiar, but he’d thought it was because of his great-grandparents.

“Uh, what’s my birth dad like?”

His mother shook her head. “It’s hard to say. I briefly ran into him today, but that’s the first time I’ve seen Jackson since before you were born. I’ll talk with him as soon as possible, and should know more after that. In the meantime, I also need to explain everything to your sister.”

“DeeDee doesn’t have to know,” Alex protested.

“She does unless we leave Montana immediately, which isn’t going to happen. And it might even follow us back to Seattle. This is like breaking an egg—we can’t put the pieces back together again in the same way. So start thinking about whether you want to meet your birth father. I’ve left a message at his house so we can get together and talk. I can try to arrange for you to meet him, but to some extent, the timing is up to you.”

That made him feel a little better.

Mom stood up. “I’m going to see DeeDee right now. I don’t want her to hear what’s happening from anyone else.”

“Uh, okay,” Alex said reluctantly, then realized there was something he wanted to ask. “Wait. Why didn’t my birth dad ever come to see me?”

His mother looked uncomfortable. “It’s complicated. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Alex settled back on the bed, convinced she wasn’t telling him everything.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING, Kayla turned in at the road with the Crazy Horse Ranch sign arching over it. She’d been tempted to come over the evening before, but dealing with Jackson when she was so tired hadn’t seemed wise. Instead, she’d called a second time, leaving another message on voice mail when no one had picked up.

Maybe Jackson would be more reasonable than the last time they’d really spoken. After all, there was a vast difference between a grown man and a boy confronted with his girlfriend’s unwanted pregnancy. On the other hand, Jackson hadn’t returned either of her calls, despite her saying it was urgent, so maybe he was as pigheaded as ever.

Rather than wait, she’d decided to drive out to the ranch before someone mentioned Alex’s resemblance to Jackson or his family. She didn’t care if it embarrassed Jackson, but it would be rotten for his daughter to learn something of that sort from anyone but her father. And the McGregors had been nice people. They hadn’t approved of her, but that didn’t mean she wanted them to be blindsided by gossip.

Parking in front of the house, Kayla climbed from the car and straightened her shoulders. The two-story structure was surprising—too new and modern to fit the open, rolling land. But the two vehicles parked to one side—a huge black SUV and a pickup truck—fit with every stereotype she’d ever had of Montana ranchers.

The doorbell seemed loud and tension crawled up her spine as light footsteps approached...definitely not those of a man of Jackson’s size.

The door opened, revealing a woman with iron-gray hair and a stiff expression. Probably a housekeeper. Grams had mentioned that Jackson was divorced from Marcy Lipton.

“Yes?”

“I’d like to speak with Jackson McGregor,” Kayla said.

The woman assessed her up and down. “Name?” If she was the housekeeper, she hadn’t been chosen for her personality.

“Kayla Anderson.”

“I’ll let him know you’re here.”

The door swung partly shut, but from the little Kayla could see of the house’s interior, it was more of what she’d expect to see on a ranch—big comfortable leather furniture and a pair of women’s riding boots near the fireplace. A lady friend’s boots, or did they belong to Jackson’s daughter? Impatiently she pushed the thought away.

Heavier footsteps sounded, then the door opened again and Jackson’s tall, powerful frame filled the space.

“Hello, Kayla. What do you want?” His expression was less friendly than it had been the day before.

“I have something to discuss with you.”

“We have nothing to talk about, last night or today.”

She pressed her lips together, a remnant of her old anger at him surfacing, but she pushed it away. They weren’t kids any longer; it was the present that mattered.

“You’re wrong. Is your daughter here?”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “She’s in her bedroom.”

“Then, we should speak someplace more private. How about Riverside Park at ten?” she asked.

Kayla still hoped to protect the youngster from accidental discoveries...such as the way Alex had learned that Curtis had adopted him. How could her ex-husband have been so careless? He’d told his new stepson about the adoption. Had he expected Brant would keep it to himself?

Of all the rotten things that could have happened, Alex learning the truth from his stepbrother was one of the lousiest. Kayla had met Brant a few times and her son was right, the kid was obnoxious.

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re so sure we have something to discuss, why didn’t you let me know you were coming to Schuyler? I don’t appreciate being ambushed.”

She kept her temper with an effort. Honestly, did he think the entire world revolved around him? His old-fashioned attitudes hadn’t bothered her in high school, but they didn’t go down well now.

“Forty-eight hours ago I didn’t know I was coming to Montana, and this isn’t something that can wait. Now, do you really want to have this discussion within earshot of your daughter?” she asked in a voice that wasn’t quite a whisper.

Jackson’s eyes darkened. “Fine. Ten at the county park. I’ll see you there.”

“Make sure of it,” she said calmly. “I’m not going away just because you don’t want to deal with this.”

Head held high, Kayla walked to her car, climbed in and drove away, only relaxing her posture after the house was out of sight.

Fifteen minutes later she parked in the lot near the group picnic site, a sense of unreality coming over her. How could she be back in Schuyler? Two days ago she’d spent the afternoon with her manager debating whether to hire a new insurance billing specialist. To unwind, she’d stopped at a friend’s house to visit, only to have Melinda talk about fixing Kayla up with her recently divorced brother. Kayla had paid less attention to her friend’s matchmaking than usual; she’d been missing the kids and thinking about their pleas to go camping at Yellowstone that summer.

Then her cell phone had rung. It had been Curtis, telling her that he hadn’t seen Alex that day, but he was sure everything was fine.

“It’s after 7:00 p.m.,” she’d screamed, panic overwhelming her. “You don’t know where he’s been since he went to bed last night?”

“We just... I mean, Brant and I left early to go kayaking. We invited Alex to go with us, but he wanted to sleep in. I’m sure it’s just normal teenage independence, going off and doing his own thing. About time, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask you,” she’d snapped. “Where was DeeDee all day?”

“At a friend’s place.”

Bitterly, Kayla had wanted to point out that the kids were there to have time with their father, not to spend the day alone or with their friends. But she had stayed silent, her first priority being Alex. She’d rushed home. Frantically searching his room for a clue, she had finally spotted a note peeking out from under his computer keyboard, possibly in hopes it wouldn’t be found for a while.

Her son’s claim he’d gone to Montana had seemed so incredible that she’d wasted precious time contacting his best friend to confirm it. Sandy had reluctantly admitted to getting an email from Alex, explaining he was on his way to Schuyler, but that his phone was nearly dead, so he’d be out of contact until he could recharge it. After calling police stations, sheriff’s offices and hospitals from Seattle to Schuyler, Kayla had collected a sleepy DeeDee from Curtis’s house and headed for Montana herself.

Part of her wanted to strangle her ex-husband, but it was also her fault. She’d known they should tell Alex the truth about the adoption from the beginning, but she’d been in love and it was what Curtis had wanted as his wedding gift. And yet when she’d called him the night before to explain why Alex had run away, Curtis had said, “Oh, well, I guess it’s best he knows.”

Forcing herself into the present, Kayla watched the clock on the dashboard tick off the minutes. At ten the black pickup truck she’d seen next to Jackson’s house pulled up and she got out of the Volvo.

“I only came because I don’t want my daughter overhearing any nonsense,” Jackson growled as he marched around the hood of his Chevy. He was the classic image of a rancher—lean, skin tanned, wearing jeans, a worn shirt, boots and a cowboy hat pushed back on his head.

“It isn’t nonsense,” Kayla said evenly. “And remember I’m the one who tried to be considerate by suggesting we meet elsewhere.”

“Considerate would be leaving me alone.”

“No, considerate would have been listening sixteen years ago instead of dismissing me and saying I slept around.”

Jackson made a visible effort to calm down. “Kayla, I realize things must have been difficult for you and I’m sorry about that, but you can’t expect me to take responsibility for someone else’s child.”

She gave him a narrow look. “Didn’t it ever occur to you that I might have been telling the truth?”

He sighed. “I’ve thought about it, but I was very careful about birth control and half the guys in school were boasting about being with you. I didn’t believe them until you claimed I’d gotten you pregnant.”

“Condoms can fail.”

“I always checked after we were done and they were intact.”

Kayla remembered him checking and how she’d interpreted it as thoughtfulness. “There must have been something you missed.”

“A million-to-one chance against a girl that every guy in the school knew had a birthmark on her hip.”

“It would have been easy for someone to find out about a birthmark without having had sex with me,” Kayla retorted. She’d always figured it was Marcy who’d shared that information after Jackson had stopped dating her and asked Kayla out. Marcy’s locker had been close to hers in gym class, so it would have been easy to spot something normally covered by clothes.

“Regardless, you’re going to drop this, now and forever,” Jackson ordered.

Kayla raised her eyebrows. Would he have been so peremptory toward another man?

“Perhaps I could have been more tactful when you announced you were pregnant,” he continued, “but that was a long time ago. I have my daughter to consider, and girls are very sensitive to this sort of thing.”

“Girls are sensitive to...?” Kayla repeated in disbelief. “That’s pretty damn patronizing. Teenagers are sensitive to everything and gender doesn’t make much difference. You’re obviously even more chauvinistic than you used to be.”

Jackson made a dismissive gesture. “I don’t care what you call it. I didn’t sleep all night, trying to think of ways to protect Morgan from any wild rumors you might start.”

There were lines of exhaustion under his eyes and dark beard stubble on his jaw, so he might have stayed up all night. Jackson was more gorgeous and sexy than ever, but otherwise, she wasn’t impressed with what she’d seen of him as an adult.

“I’m going to try this again,” Kayla said carefully. “No one is asking you take responsibility for Alex. I’m well able to take care of him myself. I wouldn’t have called you in the first place, except my son is here in Schuyler. We can get genetic tests and I could go through the court to force it, but I doubt a judge will consider it necessary. The resemblance between the two of you is unmistakable. Because of it, people are already talking, and I don’t think it’s fair for your daughter to learn about it on Facebook or get a tweet that she has a brother.”

Her words seemed to pull Jackson up short. In the silence Kayla took out her smartphone and brought up Alex’s latest school photo.

She held it out. “Let me introduce you to your son.”

As he stared at the screen, the stunned expression on Jackson’s face spoke volumes.

* * *

JACKSON FELT THE way he had when a bronco had tossed him at the Schuyler Rodeo Days and he’d landed on a fence railing. By comparison, having two broken ribs and twenty-three stitches was a picnic. Deep down he wanted to believe the picture was a fake and didn’t prove a thing. But the kid looked like him. No question about it.

Pain went through Jackson’s gut. He might have been a rebellious teen, but the McGregors took care of family, no matter what. It was part of their code. The idea that he had a son he hadn’t known or supported was a hard pill to swallow.

“Well?” Kayla prompted.

“I suppose he’s overdue for a father,” Jackson choked out.

She crossed her arms over her stomach. “You’re assuming I stayed a single mom? Maybe on welfare or delivering pizzas?”

“Of course not. You have a different last name, so I figured you’d got married.”

“Divorced now, but I got married when Alex was three. Curtis is an accountant in Seattle. He legally adopted Alex the year we were married.”

Adopted? Jackson was floored. “How could the court allow it without my permission?”

“They didn’t need permission—you weren’t on the birth certificate,” Kayla retorted.

“Didn’t you think Alex had the right to have his father listed?”

“Oh, gee, let me think. I was barely seventeen and the father of my baby had denied any possible responsibility, calling me a slut and—”

“I never called you a slut,” Jackson said hastily.

“It boils down to the same thing. I didn’t want your name anywhere near my son. Frankly, I’m not crazy about having you near him now. I was hoping you’d changed, but the only change I’ve seen has been negative.”

Jackson pulled a slow breath into his chest, reminding himself that Kayla was the injured party and he had only himself to blame for missing so much of his son’s life.

“Look, I’m sorry for not believing you, but you did have a reputation,” he reminded her, still wanting to believe he hadn’t screwed up that badly.

Too late, his conscience mocked him.

“My so-called reputation was almost certainly invented by your on-again, off-again girlfriend,” Kayla informed him crisply. “If any boys claimed something else, it was bravado talking. Marcy was spiteful and wanted you back. And she got what she wanted—you dumped me without a word and got engaged to her. I understand you married her right after graduation.”

Kayla’s expression reminded Jackson of the chin-up, ready-to-take-a-hit attitude she had exuded as a belligerent kid. Back then she’d fascinated him, the street-savvy newcomer, so different from the girls who’d grown up around Schuyler. She’d also been one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. And Josh was right—Kayla was still hot. Her long legs were topped by a tight rear end covered in formfitting jeans, while her snug T-shirt revealed the kind of curves that made a man’s blood simmer. The mother of a teenager shouldn’t look so provocative.

As for Marcy being spiteful enough to spread malicious lies? It was possible. Hell, it was more than possible. She’d turned out to be less than admirable, more interested in his generous trust fund than in him. In fact, he suspected Marcy had gotten pregnant deliberately, hoping he would marry her. Maybe if she’d realized her mother had inherited a fortune that would come to her one day, she wouldn’t have been so eager to get married.

“We can discuss what happened later, but right now I want to see my son,” Jackson said.

“That’s up to Alex.”

“Kids don’t always know what’s best.”

“I agree,” Kayla told him, “only it isn’t that easy. He...uh, ran away to Schuyler. That’s the only reason I’m here. I never planned to return.”

“Is he okay?” Jackson demanded. “How far did he get on his own?”

“We live in Seattle. He showed up at my grandparents’ house rather quickly and says nothing bad happened on the road, but it scared the hell out of me.”

“It scares me, and I didn’t even know about it beforehand. But don’t you think Alex running away to Schuyler had something to do with wanting to see his birth dad?”

An odd mix of emotions crossed Kayla’s face. “No. Alex had no idea where his biological father lived before last night. Actually, the whole thing started a few days ago when he found out that Curtis had adopted him. We were waiting to tell him about it.”

Jackson opened his mouth to make a snide remark about Kayla’s parenting decisions, then stopped. He wasn’t in a position to pass judgment. “Well, now that Alex knows, doesn’t he want to meet me?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You didn’t ask?”

Kayla gave him a hostile look. “Of course I asked, but in case you don’t know it already, teenagers don’t always give direct answers.”

Yeah, Jackson knew it. If Morgan responded to a question at all, it was usually a yell or a sarcastic comment. It was disturbing to hear that his “new” son might be acting the same way.

He glanced around the park. It was a popular make-out spot for kids and he’d seen his share of action under the trees at the far end. As a matter of fact, he and Kayla had spent a couple of evenings there, enjoying each other in the front seat of his old truck. But he didn’t fool himself that nostalgia had made her pick the place for their talk; she’d simply hoped that no one would be around to overhear them.

“What do you think Alex will decide about seeing me?” Jackson asked finally.

“I’m not sure. I brought it up with him last night, but this morning all he would talk about is getting back to Seattle for a sci-fi convention, an upcoming Mariners game with the Yankees and whether we could go camping at Yellowstone this year.”

Jackson tiredly rubbed the back of his neck. Science fiction conventions and Mariners baseball games? It was a reminder that his son had grown up in a different world than a Montana ranch. Alex was a city kid, and the enormity of what Jackson had missed struck him again. What would they have in common?

“Safeco Field? So Alex plays baseball,” he murmured.

“Because he goes to major league games?” Kayla shook her head. “Sorry to disappoint the tough rancher, but he’s never played sports that much. Both Alex and DeeDee are Mariners fans.”

“DeeDee?” Jackson asked, alarmed that Alex might have a twin sister. He loved Morgan more than anything, but dealing with her was going to shorten his life by twenty years.

“DeeDee is my daughter with Curtis. She’s nearly ten and does play sports.”

“I see.” He stopped and tried to clear his brain. “There’s something I don’t understand—why didn’t your family insist on a paternity test when Alex was born and ask for a financial settlement?”

“Because my mother didn’t know you were the father, and my grandparents only learned about it yesterday. I didn’t even tell Mom that I was pregnant until we were a long way from Schuyler—I was afraid she’d remember we had dated and empty a shotgun into your crotch. She can be hotheaded after a few drinks.”

The imagery was painfully vivid.

“Uh, well, thanks. I think.”

Kayla smiled grimly. “It wasn’t to protect you—I just didn’t want Mom going to prison for castrating an underage cowboy.”

Jackson winced inwardly. “About Alex. I can’t believe he won’t want to meet his own father. I mean, don’t you think he wants a strong male role model?”

Kayla’s eyes opened wide. “A strong male role model? What, because Curtis is an accountant? I suppose you don’t think that’s manly enough.”

“I’m just trying to think what Alex wants.”

“What he wants is to process everything after his world getting upside down. As for myself, I’d prefer knowing more about you before allowing you any time with him.”

“What does that mean?”

Kayla made an impatient sound. “It means I want to protect my son. Good heavens, Jackson, I haven’t seen you in sixteen years. I barely knew you back then, and I definitely don’t know what kind of man you are now. From what I’ve seen so far, you’ve got a macho thing going that raises questions about whether you’d be a healthy influence on a sensitive kid.”

“I’m not macho, I’m his father.”

“Only through biology. It takes more than DNA to truly make you a parent.”

A headache began throbbing in Jackson’s temples. “I agree, but I want to rectify that as soon as possible. As for knowing more about me, surely your grandparents have told you the pertinent details.”

“Some of them, but I want to hear what you have to say.”

Jackson rolled his shoulders and a trickle of perspiration traveled down his back. In the past half hour his own world had been turned upside down, and a sane man... No, scratch that, he hadn’t felt completely sane since Morgan had started acting out. And with another teenager entering his life, he might be headed for a straitjacket.

“All right,” he said. “I don’t know what you think is important, but obviously I’m a rancher. We raise both cattle and horses and have a respected breeding program. My great-uncle Mitch deeded the Crazy Horse to me a while back, though I’ve been working there since I graduated high school. I’m well able to provide support payments.”

“I don’t want or need money from you.”

“Kayla—”

“Drop it,” Kayla interrupted sharply. “I remember you used to talk about ranching, though your folks wanted you to attend college first. What else?”

“Marcy and I got divorced eight years ago, which I’m sure you’ve also heard, and I doubt I’ll ever jump into marital waters again...too many sharks.”

“I understand.” Kayla’s voice was neutral, but since they were both divorced, he wondered if she felt the same way about marriage. “I know you have custody of your daughter and that her name is Morgan. How old is she?”

“Er...fifteen last November.”

Kayla’s eyes widened. “Good lord, Jackson, that means Marcy was already pregnant when we started dating, yet this morning you were still sure you couldn’t be Alex’s father?”

“That’s because I didn’t use protection with Marcy the last time we were together,” he replied stiffly. “She claimed it was safe since it was right after her period. I decided to be more careful when I starting dating other girls.”

“Peachy.”

A long time ago Jackson had made an uneasy peace with the fact that he had been a normal teenage boy with raging hormones. Well, perhaps more normal than some. But how many teenage boys got two girls pregnant in less than two months? While it probably wasn’t a record, it also wasn’t something to be proud about.

“I don’t know what else to say about myself,” he said. “I’m not a criminal. I work hard, pay my bills and respect my parents. What now?”

“For one, we both need to sit down with our kids.” Kayla’s right eyebrow lifted. “You were planning to tell Morgan about her brother, weren’t you?”

“Of course.”

Tension went through Jackson at the possibility Morgan could have found out already. If folks in town had seen Alex and realized he was Kayla’s son, they might easily have put two and two together already. Schuyler loved to gossip, and while he’d taken away Morgan’s smartphone and cut off her internet access, her friends had switched to calling the house phone.

“Okay, I’ll go home to tell Morgan while you go talk to Alex,” he suggested.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be having a number of discussions with my son. Good luck explaining yourself to your daughter. I’ll let you know when, and if, Alex wants to meet.”

Jackson watched Kayla’s trim form slip behind the wheel of her car and drive out of the park. Then he climbed into his Chevy and drove toward the Crazy Horse, his gut knotting tighter than before.

How was he going to tell Morgan that she had a heretofore-unknown brother, just a few weeks younger than her? It was hardly the sort of thing a man wanted to admit to his daughter, especially one who’d done little more than snarl at him for months.

* * *

MORGAN WOKE UP, groaning at the sharp knock on her bedroom door. She’d stayed up until 4:00 a.m. playing video games. It was summer—she didn’t have to do anything except her chores. And thanks to her dad, she couldn’t do a lot of what she wanted, though she couldn’t figure out why he cared enough to punish her.

Why was he being such a hard-ass? Hell, the sooner she was out of this house, the better.

The knocking continued.

“What?” she shouted.

“Morgan, we need to talk.”

“I was asleep.”

“It’s well after ten and I’m not going to wait. Drag yourself into the living room. I don’t like you staying up to all hours, then sleeping the entire day.”

“I was playing a video game.”

“Why couldn’t you do that in the morning?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

He muttered something behind the door. “I want you out here for a talk.”

“If I do, can I go to the lake with my friends? You only grounded me until Friday.”

“This isn’t a negotiation, Morgan. I have something serious to discuss.”

Jeez. Her dad thought everything was important, everything that mattered to him, at least. He didn’t give a crap about the things that mattered to her.

“Morgan?” he prompted sternly.

“Gimme a minute, I have to get dressed.” That way she could escape to the barns as soon as he was through with his lecture. And she knew it’d be a lecture, because it was always a blah-blah lecture about something.

Yawning, she pulled on her clothes and boots. The one thing her dad hadn’t taken away was her riding privileges; she could still go out on the Black when she wanted. That was, she could go if she didn’t ride too far and if she took the satellite phone and if she made sure someone knew where she was going. From what she’d heard, he’d never needed to do any of that when he was her age.

Three years ago she’d thought she was old enough to ride alone and he had said “no way.” He’d even admitted it would have been different if she was a boy. She wasn’t supposed to know, but Grandpa and Grandma had told him they thought he was wrong, so he’d finally backed down, except for the rules she had to follow.

Tying a bandanna around her neck, she cast a quick glance at the mirror. It was depressing. Okay, she wasn’t Katherine Heigl or anything, but she didn’t want to try to be pretty, did she? Dad probably wanted her to, though. He’d bought her a load of dresses for Christmas. Sometimes she thought that if he couldn’t have a son, he wanted a girlie-girl type daughter who wore dresses and got As in home sciences.

Throwing the door open, she stomped downstairs to the living room, hoping Flora was around. Her dad’s lectures didn’t last as long when the housekeeper could hear them, but she was probably in town doing the shopping.

Morgan dropped into an easy chair and muttered, “So what is it?”

“Don’t sulk.”

“I’m not.” She stuck her chin out. “Did you find some other way I’m screwing up your life and my life and everyone else’s life?”

“I never said you were screwing up anyone’s life and you know it.”

Okay, he hadn’t, but she knew what was behind the things he did say. She was tired of being the burr under everyone’s saddle. Maybe it was possible to get emancipated, the way she’d seen kids do on TV. The thought made her sick to her stomach, but it was something she should check out.

Her dad didn’t say anything else right away and Morgan wondered why. Was he saving up breath for yelling? Maybe, but he didn’t seem as angry as usual.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he finally started again.

“So tell me,” she said flippantly.

“Er...you obviously know I did a few things in high school that weren’t the smartest moves I could have made.” He said it as if he’d memorized the words.

“Yeah,” she answered slowly. “I’ve heard stuff. I know you were supposed to go to college, but you and Mom got married because she was pregnant with me, so everything had to change.”

He seemed a little surprised. “I suppose I should have discussed that with you.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Well, it turns out there’s more to the story.”

Dread hit Morgan’s stomach. She really didn’t want to discuss all the details. Her dad stared out the window as if he’d rather be anywhere but there. So what else was new?

“What about it?” she asked, unable to stand the suspense.

He turned around. “Your mother and I broke up briefly in high school and I dated other girls. One girl in particular. She’d only lived in Schuyler a few months, but her parents grew up here, and her grandparents still live in town. You know the Garrisons, don’t you? Kayla’s mother is their daughter.”

Sure, Morgan knew Mayor Garrison. He ate ice cream at the parlor almost every afternoon, right when school let out. She also knew he had a son who was a lawyer in town, and another kid who’d left Schuyler a long time ago. But Morgan didn’t know much else except he was nice and didn’t seem to mind if a bunch of kids came in at the same time he was there.

“So?” she pushed, now curious.

“So Kayla left and I haven’t heard anything about her since then. But now she’s visiting with her children. The oldest one’s name is Alex. This morning... Well, I learned that Alex is my son, and of course, that means he’s your brother.”


CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_a436dac7-e53f-5868-9ad5-2e025288d80a)

JACKSON STUDIED HIS daughter’s face as shock spread across it, along with other emotions that were harder to identify.

He’d hated revealing how badly he had messed up as a teenager. It had been a relief when he’d gotten back to the house and found her still asleep. The delay had given him time to think about how to tell her and rehearse it in his mind. The problem was, there wasn’t any way to make the situation sound better.

As for her guessing that he’d married her mother because she was pregnant...? Well, of course she had figured it out—all she’d had to do was compare her birth date with the day he and Marcy got married.

He ought to have already discussed it with Morgan, but he hadn’t wanted to take the chance of her guessing how much he had dreaded marrying Marcy. After all, while he’d dated Marcy on and off, he had never considered a future with her. But with a baby on the way, getting married had seemed the right thing to do.

“How do you know he’s your kid?” Morgan said after a long silence, an edge in her voice.

“I met with his mother this morning and saw his picture. He’s a McGregor.”

“Why didn’t she tell you before?”

He cleared his throat. “She did tell me, but I didn’t believe her. Anyway, her son looks enough like me that people may guess the relationship and talk. I didn’t want you hearing about it that way.”

“Why are they here now?”

“Alex wanted to meet his great-grandparents. He’d just learned he was adopted by Kayla’s husband and was upset they never told him.”

“I’d be pissed, too.”

“Don’t use that sort of language,” he said on autopilot.

“Yeah, I know, it isn’t ‘ladylike.’”

She rolled her eyes and Jackson took a deep breath. What was wrong with a girl using nice language?

“What’s he like?” Morgan asked.

“We haven’t met yet, but I know he’s a baseball and science fiction fan.”

“Probably a geek. What’s she like?”

It was a question Jackson hadn’t anticipated. “Oh, Kayla has dark auburn hair and blue eyes. I don’t know. Smart, I guess.”

“Cripes, Dad. If that’s all my boyfriend could say about me, I’d give him the old heave-ho.”

“This isn’t about Kayla and...you have a boyfriend? Who is he?” he demanded.

“No one steady at the moment.”

“But you used to have a steady boyfriend?” Jackson asked, his heart rate accelerating. A child growing up on a ranch was familiar with the facts of life, but he wasn’t ready for Morgan to experience those facts firsthand. “You’re only fifteen—that’s too young to go steady.”

Morgan gave him an inscrutable look that didn’t admit or deny anything. “How old was Kayla when you knocked her up?”

Damn. Okay, he was an even bigger hypocrite than he liked to think about, but he was determined to keep his daughter from having to grow up too quickly.

“I don’t remember for sure,” Jackson replied. “And it’s none of your business, so don’t ask if you meet her, or Alex, either.”

“Am I going to meet him?” she said, angry defiance creeping back into her attitude.

“That’s partly up to Alex, but it’s fine with me and I don’t think his mother will object. Is that what you want?”

His daughter’s nose wrinkled, but he still couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“I guess,” she said after a while.

“Is there anything you want to discuss?” he asked, wishing she’d give him a hint about her feelings. It would have been easier if he’d found out about Alex before she turned so ornery. Or perhaps when she was older and they’d figured things out.

Morgan hunched her shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...how do you feel about all of this?”

“What do I care if you have another kid? Maybe he won’t cause you as much trouble as me.”

Jackson leaned forward. “Morgan, we might be going through a rough patch, but it doesn’t—”

“Save it,” she interrupted and jumped to her feet. “I’m going for a ride.”

“Take the satellite phone,” he reminded her.

He counted to ten as Morgan disappeared, their faithful German shepherd at her heels. The discussion hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped, but slightly better than expected. His mom would say...

Ah, hell.

His parents also needed to be told about Alex, and it was news that should come from him. Jackson was reasonably certain they hadn’t heard yet or they’d have contacted him; nowadays his folks were pretty direct.

Suddenly he smiled with grim humor. His mother had not been thrilled when he and Marcy needed to get married so young, especially since going to college had seemed unrealistic with a family on the way. Still, when Morgan was born, Mom had loved her granddaughter wholeheartedly, saying a baby was always a blessing. And lately she’d begun complaining that her other grown children hadn’t settled down and given her more grandkids.

Punching his parents’ number on the phone, Jackson waited for an answer.

“Hi,” greeted Sarah McGregor’s voice.

“Hey, Mom, it’s Jackson. Do you remember the old saying, ‘be careful what you wish for’? Well, get Dad on the extension and grab a chair. I’ve got the perfect example.”

* * *

KAYLA LET HERSELF into the house and found her grandmother in the kitchen.

“Sorry for taking so long,” she apologized. “I stopped at Granddad’s office and we talked about the situation with Jackson and Alex.”

“It’s no trouble, dear,” Elizabeth said. “The kids are napping in the hammocks.”

“They’ll stay out there all day if we let them—I rousted them out of bed early for your terrific breakfast and they’re not morning people.”

“As I recall, neither were you.”

Kayla’s smile grew more strained. Her mother’s lifestyle had made sleep a challenge when she was growing up. It was ironic that with their more or less normal home and childhood, her kids hated going to bed. Of course, it was different when you wanted to stay up—Alex and DeeDee had never been forced to stay awake all night because of loud parties or feeling uncomfortable about who might be in the apartment.

Shaking the thought away, Kayla peeked into the pots on the stove. “It looks as if you’re making potato salad.”

“And fried chicken, yeast rolls and coleslaw. Also chocolate cake and sour cream lemon pie for dessert,” added Elizabeth. “Pete has been out of town for a few days, but he’s coming over tonight to see you and meet the kids. The weather is so pleasant, I thought it would be nice to have a picnic on the patio.”

Kayla had almost forgotten Uncle Peter. She’d only met her mother’s much younger brother a couple of times. He’d left for college shortly before Kayla’s stay in Schuyler.

“I should have asked before...how is Pete?” she asked.

“Doing well. He moved back last year to work in the practice and people are starting to, um, appreciate him as their lawyer.”

From the tone of her grandmother’s voice, Kayla suspected Schuyler was struggling to accept a young Garrison in place of the elder one, but “That’s nice” was her only comment. She didn’t have enough experience with small towns to know what was normal.

Elizabeth opened the refrigerator and studied the contents. “I had the grocer send over three chickens,” she said over her shoulder. “But maybe I should get another one.”

“Heavens, that’s more than enough. DeeDee doesn’t have a teenager’s voracious appetite yet, and while Alex may eat a little chicken, he’ll mostly fill up on the bread and salads.”

“I know. He’s trying to be a vegetarian.”

“This month, at least,” Kayla said wryly. “Anyway, you mustn’t wear yourself out cooking for us.”

“A picnic is nothing. I made ten gallons of chili and all the corn bread for the church’s booth at the rodeo.”

Kayla grabbed a carrot stick from a plate on the table and crunched it down. “Okay, so what can I do to help?”

“You don’t need to—”

“Yes, I do,” Kayla interrupted firmly. “And I want the kids to do chores while they’re here. They need to learn self-discipline.” Her grandparents were terrific people, but they were too indulgent.

“I’m sure you’re right,” her grandmother agreed slowly, a flicker of melancholy in her eyes.

Abruptly Kayla wished she hadn’t said anything—Granddad had spoken of how they blamed themselves for how their daughter had lived her life. Maybe they had made mistakes, but people needed to take responsibility for their decisions...such as having sex at sixteen. Kayla didn’t blame anyone else for her teen pregnancy. She might not have been as experienced as Jackson, but she’d known there could be consequences.

An hour later she was peeling eggs for the potato salad when Granddad arrived with sandwiches and milk shakes from the Roundup Café.

“Lunch,” he called.

The kids appeared at the back door, blinking sleepily.

“Don’t worry, I got a grilled cheese for you,” Granddad said to Alex. “They don’t serve much vegetarian food in Schuyler, but the toasted cheese isn’t bad.”

Kayla restrained a smile while her son tried not to look envious as everyone else unwrapped their hamburgers. The Roundup Café made a mean burger, stacked high with juicy, fire-grilled patties, sliced onions, pickles, lettuce and tomatoes. If possible, they were even better than she remembered.

DeeDee smacked her lips when she was finished. “Yum. Too bad you’re a vegan, Alex.”

“Shows how much you know. I’m not a vegan. Vegans don’t eat cheese.” Alex popped a French fry into his mouth and chewed grumpily.

His sister shrugged. “Mom, can I go out and explore Schuyler some more?”

“Not yet,” Kayla said. “I’m going to talk with your brother right now, and after that we need to have another discussion.”

“Ah, Mom. Why can’t you talk to both of us together?”

“Shove it, squirt,” Alex warned, getting to his feet. “You don’t have to be in on everything.”

DeeDee stuck out her tongue.

“Careful,” Elizabeth warned. “A fly might land there.”

“Or it might get stuck that way,” Granddad added, “and you’ll have to go through life with your tongue hanging out like a sheepdog.”

“Oh, puleeze,” DeeDee groused.

Elizabeth’s eyes twinkled at her husband. “I’m afraid we’re behind the times, Hank. Our jokes are dated.”

“And proud of it.”

DeeDee giggled.

Even after such a short time with her grandparents, Kayla could see how comfortably the kids were settling in. It was something they’d never experienced, the sense of extended family. Curtis had been a foster child and Kayla’s mother was in and out of their lives—mostly out—depending upon her sobriety.

Back in Alex’s room he sat on the bed, while Kayla took the chair.

“I saw your birth father this morning,” she told him. “And I thought you might have some questions. I’ll tell you whatever I know.”

“No more secrets?”

“No more secrets,” she promised. “If I don’t have an answer for you, I’ll try to get one.”

“Okay. Last night you said it was complicated, you know, about why my birth dad never visited me in Seattle. Didn’t he know about me?”

Kayla swallowed. Depending on how she told her son, Alex might never want to meet Jackson. But as tempting as it was to keep him out of their lives, it wouldn’t be fair to her son.

“I told Jackson I was pregnant,” she explained carefully, “only he didn’t think it was possible because he’d used condoms. We were kids, and kids don’t always handle that sort of situation well. That’s one of the reasons I don’t want you to jump into an intimate relationship too young. Accidental pregnancy, STDs, they’re all out there, and protection isn’t a hundred percent, no matter what you use.”

“Jeez, Mom, you sound like a broken record.”

“I don’t care. I don’t regret having you, but that doesn’t mean I want you to become a father before you’re ready.”

Her son’s face scrunched up, reminding her of when he was small. He’d always been such a serious child, as if contemplating the weight of the world.

“Maybe this Jackson guy wasn’t ready to be a dad, either,” he said slowly. “And that’s why he didn’t believe it.”

Kayla blinked. “You could be right, but that’s water under the bridge.”

Alex stared at his shoes for a minute. “What’s he like?”

“If you mean what kind of man is he, I don’t know yet. But I can tell you some facts. He’s a rancher, which is what he wanted to be when he was in high school. His spread is called the Crazy Horse and he raises both cattle and horses. The McGregors go way back in this area. So does his mom’s family, the Nelsons. They were kind of rivals, I guess, until Parker and Sarah got married.”

“After I found out about the adoption I figured my birth dad would be an artist or something.”

Her son focused on his shoes again and Kayla’s heart ached for him. Montana was a world away from Seattle, and he was probably hoping his biological father would be more like him. “You should also know that Jackson was rather reckless as a teenager,” she said. “He was quite sexually active by the time he was seventeen.”

“Duh. I wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t.”

“Yes, but it turns out that one of Jackson’s other high school girlfriends also got pregnant. He has a daughter named Morgan about a month older than you.”

Alex stared. “Jeez, Mom! That’s messy.”

Kayla couldn’t help laughing at the apt description. “It is messy,” she agreed. “But we have to deal with it. The other girlfriend, Marcy, lived on the ranch next door to his parents’. They broke up and he went out with other girls, including me. Not long before your grandmother Carolyn and I left Schuyler, Jackson went back to Marcy and they got married right after graduation.”

“You mean his other girlfriend was already pregnant when he was dating you, and they got married when he found out?”

“I’m not sure why they decided to get married. I didn’t ask.”

“I bet they won’t like me suddenly showing up. I don’t think Dad’s new family likes having DeeDee and me around, either.”

Kayla learned forward, wishing she could protect her children from every hurt and disappointment. “If your dad’s new family doesn’t enjoy having you around, that’s their loss,” she said carefully. “As for Jackson’s family, I don’t know how they’ll react. He’s divorced now, but the rest of his relatives may want to meet you.”

Jumping up, Alex went to the window and gazed outside.

“How about it?” Kayla asked after a minute. “Do you want to meet your birth father?”

“I’ll think about it,” he muttered. “Not yet anyhow. I feel sort of...mixed-up.”

“Okay. I’ll let him know you aren’t ready. We’ll be in Montana for at least another week, so you have some time. If you can’t make up your mind before we leave, you can meet him later.”

“Thanks, Mom. Can you find out more stuff about him?”

“I’m planning to. Are you especially curious about anything in particular?”

Alex shrugged. “I dunno. Just stuff.”

Sighing, Kayla climbed to the attic bedroom and gave her daughter a version of the story suitable for a nine-year-old. However, it was apparent that DeeDee wasn’t shocked, and Kayla had a feeling they were overdue for a frank discussion about sex. Loneliness settled over her at the thought; it was one more thing she’d have to do alone because Curtis was a perpetual Peter Pan.

Kayla went downstairs and found her grandmother knitting on the living room couch. Elizabeth glanced at her sympathetically. “How did it go?”

Kayla groaned and dropped into a chair. “Alex isn’t ready to meet Jackson. He wants me to learn more about him, but when I asked what he’s curious about, he just said ‘stuff.’ ‘Stuff’ is a little vague.”

“He’s a teenager.”

“Too true.” Kayla yawned. “Do you have any sense of what kind of man Jackson grew up to be?”

“I don’t know much. He isn’t wild any longer. From what I’ve heard, he works hard and his ranch has a good reputation. The gossip at the beauty parlor is that he dates regularly but is resistant to getting married again, which seems to annoy several of our single women.”

Kayla didn’t know how accurate beauty-parlor gossip might be, but Jackson had already confirmed his aversion to marriage. What had he said... Too many sharks? Considering he’d been married to Marcy Lipton for eight years, she wasn’t surprised he was soured on women.

“It turns out that Morgan is only a month older than Alex,” she murmured.

Her grandmother had an apologetic glint in her eyes. “If we’d known Jackson was so good at getting girls into bed, we would have tried to stop you from seeing each other. At the very least we should have cautioned you about birth control.”

Kayla shook her head. “It wasn’t your place to step in. Jackson used condoms. I don’t why they failed, but I wasn’t ignorant. I was educated about the facts of life before Mom brought me here. She didn’t shelter me growing up.”

Elizabeth’s shoulders slumped. “I never knew what to do with her. She was always restless. We tried to find her and your father after they ran away, but it was as if they’d vanished from the face of the earth.”

“It is what it is,” Kayla said firmly. “And things might have been different if Dad hadn’t died. She can’t let go of his memory, which is probably why her other relationships haven’t worked. Anyway, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Okay. No more agonizing over past mistakes. We concentrate on being a family from now on.”

“That sounds good to me.” Kayla chuckled. “Alex calls the situation messy and he’s right, so we need each other to deal with it.”

* * *

JACKSON SADDLED HIS STALLION, his ranch foreman watching with raised eyebrows.

“Going to ride fences again?” Greg asked as Jackson checked the tools in Thunder’s saddlebag. The black-and-white Appaloosa sidestepped lightly, eager to get moving. “You’ve got ranch hands to take care of that.”

“Drop it. I’m not in the mood.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

Jackson rode north, trying to let go of his tension. The way he saw it, time riding fence lines wasn’t wasted. Besides, he’d never enjoyed being indoors all the time, which was why giving up college hadn’t bothered him as much as it had bothered his parents. Since then he’d realized how much he had missed, but at least he’d supplemented his education with online and extension courses.

While he hadn’t told Morgan she was expected to attend college, he’d raised her with the assumption she would do so. Lately her grades had been poor enough that no decent school would take her, but she still had time to get her act together...if she tried. With the new bombshell in her life, it was hard to say what would happen.

It was ironic to learn he had a second child. Marcy had refused to consider having another. She’d been too busy reading fashion magazines and nagging him about wanting to move to the city.

Jackson reined in Thunder and gazed at the horizon, unable to imagine living anywhere else.

It was a beautiful time of year on the ranch. Everything was lush and green, the brilliant blue sky arching overhead, broken only by puffs of scattered white clouds. If he turned a certain direction, he didn’t even see fences, just miles of rolling grassland and trees, the way it must have looked when his ancestors had settled here.

Morgan loved the ranch, too, or at least she’d loved it when she was smaller. It was difficult to tell how she felt now. Who would have guessed that her mother, who’d grown up on the ranch adjacent to his parents’ spread, would hate Montana so much? Then, not long before Marcy had taken off for New York, he’d discovered she was sneaking around with other guys.

Thunder snorted, tossing his head, and Jackson realized his hands had gone tight on the reins.

“Sorry, boy.” He patted the stallion on the neck and urged him back into a walk.

In all honesty, he shouldn’t have let Marcy’s cheating bother him so much, but the one place they’d gotten along was in bed, so why had she gone looking for it somewhere else?

At least she hadn’t fought him for custody of Morgan, which meant his marriage had ended with more of a whimper, than a bang. Of course, by then he’d basically seen the worst Marcy could dish out. The cheating had been the final knife thrust to end a long, miserable period that had seemed more of a prison sentence than anything else.

“I can sure pick ’em, can’t I, Thunder?” he murmured, thinking about the woman he’d dated for a while after his divorce.

Patti had been a paralegal for his divorce attorney. Very sympathetic. Supportive. Nice. At least that was what he’d thought. It turned out she’d seen the documents on his net worth and had decided it was her chance to catch a rich husband. She lived in a nearby town and he’d surprised her one evening with a pizza...and caught her longtime boyfriend hopping out a side window.

Perhaps he ought to be grateful he’d learned his lesson about women. Since then he’d vowed to keep life uncomplicated, yet now he had a huge complication. And the complication wasn’t just Alex, it was also Kayla.

She’d claimed that she didn’t need any money, but whether or not that was true, what about a college fund? Or sharing parental responsibility? The fact that another man had adopted Alex didn’t mean a damn thing. The guy might be all right, but it was Kayla, not her ex-husband, who’d driven to Schuyler looking for her runaway son.

If their positions had been reversed, Jackson knew nothing could have kept him from searching for Alex, as well.

Jackson spotted a slack wire on a fence and reined in Thunder again. He swung down from the saddle and took out his tools, thinking about the frosty expression in his former girlfriend’s eyes. He was quite certain she’d prefer to keep him away from Alex, so to have a relationship with his son he’d have to figure out how to get along with Kayla.

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to call the Garrison household and make sure she hadn’t made a beeline for Seattle. For that matter, he had only Kayla’s word that she’d told Alex the identity of his birth father. If there was one thing he’d learned from Marcy and Patti, it was how many ways a woman could shade the truth.


CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_988d5dc4-9207-57a4-ba31-f8ee988e6a2f)

SOONER OR LATER Alex figured his mom would tell her grandparents to stop spoiling him and DeeDee. They kept doing all sorts of nice things. Like today. The Garrisons had cable, but they didn’t get the Mariners games, so Grandma had called the cable company and ordered a sports package.

That was okay. Alex didn’t mind being spoiled.

Now he and DeeDee were watching the Mariners in the family room. His mother had gone for a drive with Grandpa and his great-grandmother was in the kitchen. She was such a terrific cook it made him wonder if he wanted to stay a vegetarian, even the kind of vegetarian who sometimes cheated with chicken or fish. He missed hamburgers and pepperoni pizza awful bad.

“I like it here,” DeeDee said, lounging back on the cushions with the bowl of popcorn Grandma had made for them.

“Me, too, but just for a visit.” Baseball on TV was okay, but it wasn’t the same as going to Safeco Field. Besides, Sandy was in Seattle. Not that he was worried Mom would move them to Schuyler. She could only leave her business for a while, and he knew how much she cared about her work. He sure didn’t want to leave Seattle for good.

Another inning passed and the Mariners weren’t doing much better than in the first three. Then they pulled off two singles, a double and a home run in the sixth.

“I knew that pitcher was losing his arm,” DeeDee said smugly as the opposing team’s starting pitcher left the mound. “Hit the road, Jack,” she called at the TV screen.

“Mariner batting didn’t hurt,” Alex countered, getting up during the break. “I’m gonna make more popcorn.”

In the kitchen he popped a batch and stood at the window for a few minutes, munching from the bowl. Montana backyards sure were different from anywhere in Seattle.

The phone rang. It had been ringing a lot because Grandma and Grandpa’s friends kept calling to ask about him and DeeDee. Alex yawned, not much interested until his ears caught, “Hello, Jackson.” He crept to the connecting door between the kitchen and Grandma’s sewing room. It wasn’t nice to listen in, but he wanted to hear what she was saying to his birth father.

The half of the conversation he could hear, broken by silences, was weird.

“No...Kayla is still here...Well, of course she’s told him.” There was a longer silence. “I’m not interested in what’s fair to you, Jackson. It wasn’t fair to take a sixteen-year-old girl out for a date and return her home pregnant, even if Kayla says she takes responsibility, as well. You were older and I expected better.”

Wow. Alex was proud of his grandmother. She was plenty tough when she needed to be.

“You’ll just have to be patient,” Grandma said after another minute. “I can’t promise, but where do you want to meet?”

Alex heard a car door slam in the driveway and hurried back to the hot-air popper. He was dumping another batch of kernels into it when his great-grandfather walked through the back door.

“Great idea,” Grandpa said. “Make some for me.”

“Uh, sure.”

“That’s a very serious expression you’re wearing, young man. Is something on your mind?”

Alex made a face. He wasn’t good at playing it cool. “Yeah, maybe...I don’t know.”

Grandpa grinned. “That kind of answer would drive a courtroom judge crazy.”

Alex started the popper. It was noisy and he was glad to have an excuse not to say anything. He didn’t know what to think. Mom had said it was his choice to see Jackson, so why was the guy calling the house?

After giving Grandpa a bowl of popcorn and topping off his own, Alex went back to the family room. DeeDee was on the floor next to the bookshelf, studying the contents.

She rolled over and grinned at him. “Guess what I found?”

“Not interested.”

“Bet you will be—it’s the yearbook from when Mom was in high school here.”

It was a pain to admit, but DeeDee was right. Grabbing the book she was waving in the air, he sat on the couch and thumbed through the pages.

He stopped at the junior class photos and looked at the picture of his mother. She didn’t look that different from now. In the senior class section he rolled the pages until he came to Jackson McGregor.

DeeDee must have guessed whose picture he was staring at. “What does your birth dad look like?”

“Kind of like me.”

“Nah,” she denied. “Can’t be two faces that ugly in the world.”

“You’ve been waiting to use that line, haven’t you?”

“Natchramento.”

Alex closed the book and tried to concentrate on the ball game. The Mariners had pulled even further ahead, so he ought to be cheering, but something was bugging him. What if his birth dad tried to make trouble? Was that why he’d called?

Maybe this Jackson guy wanted him to move in...or to get custody. He could be trying to make Mom do something else she didn’t want to do. Grandma hadn’t sounded happy on the phone.

Alex didn’t want to live anywhere else, even if he was still mad that Mom hadn’t told him about the adoption and...well, everything. Maybe he should just tell her he’d decided not to see his birth father and ask how soon they could go back to Seattle.

* * *

THAT EVENING KAYLA steamed into Ryan’s Roadhouse, where her grandmother had said Jackson wanted to meet for another discussion. He was seated at the bar, talking on his cell phone as she came closer.

“Hell, no, Morgan...Well, you aren’t a boy, you’re a girl and...Okay, so the rules are different and you...Morgan?” He held out the phone and stared at it. “Hell,” he growled. Glancing up, his eyes narrowed when he saw Kayla standing a few feet away.

“Thanks for coming,” he muttered. “I’ve reserved a table in the back.”

Stiffly Kayla followed him, ignoring the not-so-subtle glances of the other restaurant patrons. She slid into the seat and scowled as Jackson sat across from her.

“I told you I’d be in contact if Alex wanted to meet you. Why did you call the house today?” she demanded.

“What’s the big deal?”

“Oh, nothing, except now it might take another fifteen years for Alex to decide he wants to meet you.”

Jackson’s jaw dropped; he seemed genuinely surprised. “It was a private conversation. How did Alex even know I called?”

“If you’d take your head out of your ass for a minute, you’d remember that teenagers sometimes eavesdrop.”

“A good mother should teach her son not to listen to other people’s conversations,” Jackson shot back. “Of course, he’s probably just following your example.”

“Excuse me?”

“You listened to my call at the bar.”

“That wasn’t eavesdropping,” Kayla said tartly. “Everybody in the room heard you explain there are different rules for girls than for boys. It’s obvious where you stand on equal rights for women.”

He glared.

“But I must say,” Kayla added in a sugary tone, “with such high standards of parenting, your daughter must be an absolute paragon.”

Despite the restaurant’s low light, Kayla could see the antagonism in Jackson’s face. He had to know she’d heard stories about Morgan’s outrageous behavior.

“Leave Morgan out of this,” he said curtly.

“Hey, you’re the one who brought up the issue of parenting skills. As for Alex, meeting you is his choice. But if you do, my concern will be finding the right words to vaccinate him against your influence.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Think about it. You got two girls pregnant within a few months, so who knows how many other children you might have fathered? As I recall, you dated quite a few girls after breaking up with Marcy. Maybe we should plan a reunion and find out.” Perhaps she wasn’t being fair, but at the moment she didn’t care.

“There aren’t any others,” Jackson shot back.

“Oh? I bet a few days ago you would have sworn Morgan was an only child.”

She had him there, as the dull red on his neck could testify. To think she’d once felt lucky because he’d asked her out. Jackson McGregor might have been the biggest heartthrob of the high school, but that didn’t excuse her teenage self from being an idiot. After all, she’d seen her mother in action for years and should have known better.

As for the adult Jackson?

Kayla didn’t particularly like him. He was more attractive than ever but still seemed to be the same stubborn jackass who’d gotten her pregnant and left her high and dry. It wasn’t that she’d expected a romantic marriage proposal, but to be accused of sleeping with half the boys in school?

“All right,” he said through gritted teeth. “But I didn’t have sex with most of the other girls.”

“Most of them?” Kayla let out a mock groan. “Damn, that means Marcy and I were among the few who were foolish enough to fall for your line.”

A muscle twitched along the edge of Jackson’s jaw.

“What’s the matter?” she taunted. “You can dish it out, but not take it?”

“Look, can we just talk about my son? To be frank, I called your grandparents because I thought you might take Alex away without telling him about me.”

Kayla narrowed her eyes. A hot temper was one of her weak points, and right now she wasn’t motivated to keep it in check. “I told you that I’d explained everything to Alex. You thought I was lying?”

“Not exactly, but I couldn’t be sure you were telling the truth, either. Marcy proved how many ways a lie can be told. Since then, I’ve encountered more than my share of women who do the same thing and—”

He cut off his words, possibly because he’d realized how sexist he sounded. Obviously it wasn’t people in general he distrusted, it was the opposite sex.

“Let me guess,” she said. “I’m a woman, so my integrity is automatically in question.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. Growing up with a misogynist must be delightful for your daughter.”

Jackson glared. “I don’t hate women.”

“No, as long as they stay in their place, follow special rules and have a man vouch for them.” She folded her hands and assumed a meek expression. “Please, Mr. McGregor, I’ll have my grandfather testify that I told my son the truth.”

“Oh, God,” Jackson muttered.

“I’ve missed Schuyler,” Kayla continued, ignoring him, “but now I realize how lucky I am to be raising my children in the twenty-first century. I’d recommend restraining your macho attitudes if Alex ever agrees to see you. His best friend is a girl and he firmly believes she’ll be president someday—of the United States, not the ladies’ guild.”

“Fine, I’ll vote for her. In the meantime, what upset Alex about a simple conversation?”

Kayla fought a new surge of temper. The memory of her son’s worried eyes was hard to forget. As soon as she’d returned to the house he’d asked if they could go back to Seattle immediately. The reason? Because he didn’t want to meet the guy who’d “ticked off Grandma on the phone.” And that was all he would say.

So she’d asked Grams about the call. Elizabeth had muttered something about Jackson wanting to be sure Kayla hadn’t run off with Alex to Washington and how he’d talked about his rights as a dad, so she’d put him in his place.

It had been a revelation. Apparently Elizabeth Garrison shared her granddaughter’s quick temper, at least when it came to defending her family.

Just then a food server came by with menus and a flirtatious smile for Jackson.

“Just decaf coffee,” Kayla said.

“Plain cherry pie and coffee,” Jackson ordered. “Thanks.”

Neither of them said anything until their cups were filled and the pie delivered. As the server walked away, Jackson shoved his plate to one side and leaned forward. “Kayla, what’s going on with Alex?”

She gazed at him for a long minute. Her grandmother and son had probably overreacted, but Jackson had only phoned in the first place because he’d assumed the worst of her.

“Alex asked if we could go to Seattle today or tomorrow,” she explained reluctantly. “I talked him into staying, but it wasn’t easy.”

* * *

A LEAD WEIGHT settled in Jackson’s stomach. It was a damned poor introduction to his son, provided Kayla was accurately relaying Alex’s reaction.

“Why is he worried about meeting me?”

Kayla sighed and pushed her rich auburn hair away from her face. The motion drew attention to the delicate curve of her cheek and brilliant blue of her eyes and he wondered if it was a deliberately provocative gesture, intended to distract him.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “I know he’s disconcerted because you aren’t what he’d imagined his birth father would be like.”

“What sort of man did he think I’d be?”

She shrugged and Jackson averted his gaze from the movement of her breasts against the emerald-green T-shirt she wore.

“Somewhere between Seattle and Schuyler Alex got the notion that his biological father was an artist or something similar. It’s quite an adjustment to go from envisioning you as an artist to discovering you’re a big tough cowboy his grandmother has to fight off.”

“That isn’t what happened,” Jackson growled, unable to think why Elizabeth Garrison had implied such a thing. Well, she had gotten irate, so maybe it was understandable.

“I’m just saying how it sounded to a kid hearing one side of the conversation. Alex has an active imagination, and there’s no telling what else he might be thinking.”

Massaging the tense muscles at the back his neck, Jackson decided to try a new approach. “I apologize, but try to understand where I’m coming from. Less than twenty-four hours ago I found out I have a son. Then I had to explain it to my daughter and—”

“Frankly, any sympathy I might have had vanished when I had to deal with a freaked-out teenager,” Kayla interrupted.

He had no one but himself to blame. It had been stupid to imply to Elizabeth Garrison that Kayla might have failed to explain the situation to Alex. As for rushing her son back to Seattle? Kayla could have done that before talking to him in the first place.

“Okay,” he said. “What can I do to make Alex more comfortable?”

“I’ll try to find out, for his sake, not yours. At least he’s still asking questions, such as what sort of person you are, what you like and dislike, if you get mad easily. That sort of thing.”

“I don’t...uh, usually don’t get mad easily,” Jackson said. It was mostly true; it had taken months of Morgan’s resentful rebellion to turn him into a crazy person with a hair-trigger fuse.

“I’m sure that’s debatable,” Kayla observed wryly. “But tell me about your hobbies, or something that Alex can relate to.”

“I raise horses.”

She hiked an eyebrow. “Not helpful. Alex has a cat and grew up in the city, so horses aren’t something he normally encounters. Sandy—that’s his best friend—went on a ranch vacation last year and fell in love with riding, but Alex hasn’t shown any interest. Anything else?”

Jackson tried to think. How did he connect with a kid who attended science fiction conventions? Maybe the biggest thing he shared with Alex was being nonplussed that they had so little in common.

“I enjoy baseball,” he said finally.

“That’s good. What team?”

“I’m partial to the Cubs. Oh, and I’m not crazy about the designated-hitter rule in the American League.”

“Alex will look forward to trying to convert you.”

“When do I get a chance to be converted?” Jackson asked.

She made an exasperated sound. “A shred of patience would be helpful. I need to give Alex more than baseball to make him comfortable. Have you seen any of the Star Trek movies?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Star Trek. Great film.”

Kayla gave him a stern look. “Don’t say something just because you think that’s what we want to hear. Alex can spot a phony even better than I can.”

“Fine, I didn’t pay that much attention when Morgan watched the last Star Trek flick,” Jackson admitted. “But I’ll put it on again if it will help.”

Rolling her eyes, Kayla nodded. “What about art? Any likes or dislikes?”

“Some. M. C. Escher is interesting. But have you raised Alex to only get along with people who are exactly the same as him, or am I the only one who has to fit into a box?”

“No, but it’s one thing to make a friend who doesn’t enjoy the same things, another to meet a complete stranger who’s actually your birth father. He doesn’t know what you expect or think and he’s nervous.”

A second food server approached their table. “Are you sure you don’t want dinner, Jackson? The chili is real good today. I’ll get Walt to slice a few of those fresh jalapeño peppers you like.”

Jackson smiled tightly; normally he appreciated the attentive service at Ryan’s, but not tonight. “Thanks, Cora, we’re fine.”

Kayla cocked her head as Cora retreated to the front of the restaurant. “She seems familiar. Was she in high school when we were there?”

“She was. And no, I haven’t dated her.”

“That wasn’t what I was asking, but at least I can leave Cora off the family reunion invitation list.”

Finishing his coffee, Jackson reminded himself that he only had himself to thank for the current mess in his life.

* * *

MORGAN CLICKED THE Internet Explorer icon and watched it come up on the computer screen. Flora had enabled her access at exactly nine o’clock, the hour ending the no-internet part of being grounded.

Her dad had gone out, saying he had an appointment at Ryan’s Roadhouse. It had to be a date. He never brought anyone home that he’d hooked up with, and he never spent the entire night away, but she knew the score. She’d called to ask about going the lake again, just to annoy him, then hung up when he started repeating that crap about different rules. It wasn’t as if she’d expected a different answer.

Morgan logged on to Facebook to see if her new half brother had an account. She searched for an Alex Anderson in Seattle, Washington, and scrolled through the list until she saw a face that was eerily familiar.

Morgan gulped.

Cripes, he looked an awful lot like her dad. She clicked on his profile and saw the stuff he’d entered about his interests. Her dad had said he was a science fiction and baseball fan, but Alex had also listed art and computers.

For a second she kept the curser away from the friend request button. It would be a bummer if Alex didn’t want to be her friend, and she was already sick inside from not being wanted, but...no. She wasn’t going to be a stinking coward.

Morgan lifted her chin and punched the request button. Then she went on to chat with her buddies, though the really cool ones had already left for the lake and didn’t seem to be logging on. After a while she saw a post from Alex pop up on the screen.

Hmm. He’d confirmed her request. Now she wondered if he’d recognized her name or merely always accepted friend requests. Did Alex know who she was? Curious what he thought about being in Schuyler and finding out about his birth dad, she clicked on his page and read through his recent posts.

Nothing. He’d written about being in Montana and meeting his great-grandparents, saying they weren’t that ancient and were really awesome. But not one word about his birth father, or a new sister.

Then a message popped up—it was from Alex. She noticed he didn’t write in shorthand texting language, so she didn’t, either.

Hi. Are you who I think you are? Alex wrote.

Yeah, unless you think I’m Xena the Warrior Princess.

Are you a Xena fan? he asked.

Morgan hesitated for a moment before entering, Used to be.

Do you like Star Trek?

Yeah, except maybe the Enterprise series. Morgan had never gotten into Enterprise, though she liked Scott Bakula, who’d played the captain.

Into Darkness is the best movie ever. Thought I’d die laughing when Spock talked about attitude, Alex wrote back.

Yeah. Which Khan do you think is best?

That’s like comparing apples to dogs.

I guess.

It was an odd conversation and not as fast as talking on the phone, but it gave her more time to think. She hadn’t told anyone at school that she was a Trek fan—the cool kids weren’t into it.

They went back and forth awhile longer about Star Trek, then Alex said he needed to watch a Mariners baseball game with his little sister and great-grandparents.

Since her dad always ordered the cable sports package, Morgan was able to find the Mariners game on her TV. She wasn’t sure what to think about becoming Facebook friends with Alex, but she thought it might be okay, even if he was a geek from Seattle and she was a cowgirl.

Later that night when her dad came home, she came out of her room. “When are we going to meet Alex?” she asked.

“I’m still not sure, Morgan. I’ll let you know.”

* * *

FOR HOURS AFTER she’d gone to bed, Kayla lay awake, trying to sort out her feelings.

She’d come home from Ryan’s Roadhouse to find everyone cheering on the Mariners. But once the game was over, she had reassured her son that Jackson knew the choice to meet was Alex’s decision, not his.

Now it was past midnight and she couldn’t sleep. Granted, she was a chronic insomniac, but usually it wasn’t this bad. Punching her pillow, Kayla rolled over, closed her eyes and tried not to picture anything, but Jackson’s face kept intruding. Once he’d been the cutest guy she’d ever met, and now he was even better looking, his archaic views notwithstanding.

She squirmed, not wanting to find any man handsome. Some of her friends kept saying she didn’t have to make a career out of being a divorcée. That wasn’t what she was doing, or at least she hoped not. They couldn’t understand, and the blind dates they set her up on were lame, to use her kids’ language for it. Maybe she just had bad luck with men, or maybe she couldn’t stop making lousy choices about them.




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