“More like temporary while Ms. Everett sees how we work out,” Storm answered, putting enough drawl in his voice to make himself sound as friendly and country as any cowboy who’d stepped foot on this land.
“Ms. Everett was about to explain the accommodations to us before you came in,” Brooklyn added.
All eyes fell on Aja, and she glared at Brooklyn, giving her a silent warning across the counter. “Ladies, because the two working staff cabins are all we have available, I will have to ask you to move in together. The men can use the other cabin.”
“What about the third man?” Seneca asked. “They’re two-bedroom cabins with a queen-sized bed in each bedroom. Is the third man sleeping on the couch?”
Aja closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose as she whispered, “Dammit.” In all her planning, she hadn’t considered that. She was certain she could find a cot somewhere in one of their storage rooms but eliminated that as a reasonable solution. It was uncomfortable and more than a night on it would ruin anyone’s back.
“Jackson?” His deep-brown eyes were sharp as he focused all his attention on her at the call of his name. She cleared her throat, trying to decide if it was his penetrating scrutiny or merely the stress of this entire situation that had her so rattled. “Since you and I will need to stay in close contact to discuss ranch matters, it’s probably best if you took my guest room upstairs. This way, neither of us has to go far to have our morning meetings.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” he answered.
She turned back to the ladies, trying to keep her cool veneer in place. “Good. Seneca and Brooklyn, decide which of you is moving, then start packing so Colton and Storm can get settled.”
Jackson turned to his colleagues, pointing between them. “Colton and Storm, please help the ladies move their things over when they’re ready.”
The men gave a collective nod, and when Seneca and Brooklyn waved and stepped toward and through the back door, Storm and Colton followed behind them.
Quiet filled the room. The air crackled with electricity. Aja could feel it tickling the hairs on the back of her neck, making her rethink sleeping in the same house with Jackson. She wasn’t threatened by him. Everything from his wide stance to his strong shoulders and his determined glare made Jackson a poster boy for security. But she was beginning to notice being in his presence somehow made her uneasy. Enough so that for the briefest moment, she wondered if him sleeping on that old, rickety cot in the cabin was a safer bet for her.
If he were really her foreman, the sleeping arrangements would make sense. There’d be a ton of things they’d need to discuss every morning before the workday began. But standing here, feeling out of sorts and awkward in his presence, Aja wasn’t certain this was a good idea.
Deciding she needed to put on her big-girl pants and do a bit of adulting, she walked from the security of the counter and waved a hand at Jackson. With a steady voice, she said, “Follow me and I’ll show you to your bed.”
* * *
Aja took a sip of her second cup of coffee while she thought about the visiting cowboy upstairs. She glanced down at her trembling fingers and regretted her compulsion for more caffeine in her system. “Get it together, girl. He’s simply a cowboy doing what your uncle told him to do. No need to let his presence rattle you.”
The pep talk sounded good to her ears and her head. But somehow she didn’t feel the usual comfort her self-affirmations brought. She took another sip from her cup and savored the sweet, creamy taste.
“You ready to show me around your spread?”
She took another swallow of her coffee and kept the smart retort that threatened to slip through her lips. Her uncle had made certain neither of them had a choice in this, so reminding Jackson she hadn’t wanted him on her property in the first place wouldn’t help them get on with their day.
“Sure. It’s best if we go on horseback. You ride?”
“Is water wet?”
She gave him an okay sign and took one last swallow of her drink before pouring the rest in the sink and leading him to the back door. “The stable is within walking distance of the house.”
“I assume horseback riding will be one of the activities you offer to your guests.”
“Yeah. That along with good food, a spa, and rustic lodging will hopefully draw people into the resort.”
They walked through the back door and followed a path alongside a garden bed for a few moments. The structure they came upon looked very much like the barn that had burned down two days ago. A twinge of regret tightened around Aja’s chest, and she dragged a long, heavy breath in through her nose. Losing the structure wouldn’t delay her plans for the ranch, but the memories of carefree summers spent in that barn made the loss meaningful in ways dollars and cents would never express.
She turned around to usher Jackson inside and met the wide grin on his face. His lips were full, the corners curling as he looked around. “I take it you’ve spent some time in horse stables before?” she asked.
His wide shoulders moved with each easy chuckle that slipped from his lips.
“Yeah.” He took in a deep breath through his nose, and his grin spread wider, showing a full mouth of bright teeth. “Nothing like the familiar smell of hay mixed with animal musk. I mucked stalls before and after school at my next-door neighbor’s place in junior high and high school. It wasn’t easy work, but the pay was good, and I got to ride any horse I wanted as a work perk.”
Aja shook her head, biting her bottom lip to keep the smile she felt tugging at the corners of her mouth from blooming. She loved riding horses, always had. But she didn’t think she could ever look at mucking stalls with the same fondness Jackson seemed to display.
“Well, I hope you find mucking stalls as rewarding a job now as you did then.” She walked to the end of the row of stalls until she found the two she was looking for. “I’m sure the residents will appreciate your experience.” A chestnut-colored quarter horse pushed her muzzle into Aja’s waiting hand and neighed excitedly at Aja’s gentle touch. “Hey, Pride. I’ve brought a friend to visit.” Never taking her eyes off the beautiful creature in front of her, she called over her shoulder, “Jackson, this is Dru’s Pride. She’s a sweet girl who loves a good run. Introduce yourself, and we’ll take her and Shadow out for a little exercise.”
She walked over to the next stall to greet her personal horse. No one rode Shadow but her. Not because she didn’t allow it, but because the quarter horse had decided a long time ago that Aja was his human and wouldn’t permit anyone else on his back. She stood for a moment, marveling at the strong creature. A proud, long neck, strong legs, and a shiny black coat made Shadow a horse any owner would be proud to possess. But it was his loyalty to Aja that made him more than a pet. No, Shadow was a trusted friend. A valued member of her small family.
“Morning, Shadow. Miss me?” The horse bobbed his long neck up and down, giving the appearance of a nod.
“Did you train him to do that?”
“No.” She laughed. “He loves me. It’s a given he misses me when I’m not around.” She returned her attention to the horse and gave his neck a few quick strokes before she waved her hand for Jackson to follow and stepped inside the tack room. She turned around to see if he’d followed her lead and slammed into a solid wall of broad, muscular chest.
Slightly disoriented by Jackson’s nearness, she stepped back before getting her footing. She felt herself falling until strong hands wrapped around her waist, keeping her upright. Goose bumps pebbled the skin on her arms at the firm press of his hands on her hips.
The sure way he held her against him, like he was always supposed to have a handful of her beneath his touch, made her tremble with a strange mix of apprehension and need. When she finally found the nerve to look up into his shining, dark-brown eyes, he gave her a playful wink and a smile that did little to dispel the ne
rves swirling in the bottom of her belly. “Looks like Shadow isn’t the only one you can trust to keep you from falling ’round here.”
Aja swallowed hard, trying to move the ball of tension sitting in the middle of her throat. Trust wasn’t the word she was thinking of right now. Nothing about the way he held her tightly against him made her trust him. But worse, the way her body instinctively wanted to press closer to his heat made her trust herself even less.
* * *
Jackson rode alongside Aja as she showed him her land, taking in the endless hills of vivid green grass bending to the slight breeze. It was early September. The scorching temperatures of August were giving way to eighty- and seventy-degree days. But soon winter would roll in, bringing chilly sixty- and fifty-degree temperatures, and it would hamper the ability to build on this land. Colder temperatures would make riding on horseback a little less pleasurable than it was now too.
Aja led them over a ridge to where a small hovel of a house sat. Its worn wooden planks desperately needed attention. Jackson was certain no one had lived there for at least half a century. Even out in these backwoods, building codes had to be adhered to. The house’s deep lean to the left wouldn’t pass the most basic building inspection.
The building was old. A fact that was reinforced as they dismounted and walked closer to it. The loud wail of the brittle wooden porch steps made Jackson skeptical the planks would hold his weight. He lifted a questioning brow as Aja watched him take careful steps to where she was standing outside the front door. “You sure this is safe?”
“Safe enough,” she answered. The cavalier tone of her voice didn’t bolster his confidence. But if she were willing to take the risk, he reasoned he could too.
“What is this place?”
“It’s the original homestead from when my family first purchased this land at the end of the nineteenth century.” He watched her run a light hand over a brittle wooden plank on the doorway. Her smooth, brown features settled into a soft, gentle smile, something too delicate to touch for fear of destroying its beauty. Something so powerful he had to fight the growing need in his chest to reach out and trace it with his fingertips. “Slavery was introduced to Texas in 1821 when Stephen F. Austin promised white settlers eighty acres of land for every enslaved person they brought with them.”
Jackson knew how the frontier of Texas was settled. It wasn’t something taught in public schools. But his father had insisted Jackson and his brother know where they came from and take pride in the history of their ancestors.
“During that migration,” she continued, “six generations ago, my great-great-great-great-grandfather Scipio was brought to Texas as one of the enslaved. He wasn’t more than a year old when he arrived here.
“He was probably near forty when the Civil War began. Up until that point, he thought he’d live and die in chains on this plantation. But once Texas joined the Confederacy, and his master left to join the Confederate ranks, he escaped and fled to Galveston to help with the Union naval blockade.”
She stepped toward the door and motioned for him to follow behind her. He wasn’t certain what to expect. If the front porch and the exterior were in such disrepair, he was sure the interior hadn’t fared much better. But when he stepped through the door, he was pleasantly surprised to see a simple one-room space filled with covered furniture and a beautiful brick fireplace that looked like it might have been the center attraction for those who called this place home.
It was daylight outside, but the windows were covered, so Aja turned on a small kerosene lamp on the mantel to bring a soft glow of light into the room.
“The Union didn’t allow Blacks, whether they were enslaved or free, to join the army at the start of the war. But Scipio was a blacksmith, so the commander allowed him to work shoeing horses and making and repairing weapons. It was the first time he realized something originally intended for bad could be used for good. He’d been taught his trade to fashion horseshoes, weapons, and other ironworks for his master to keep him enslaved. Now, he was using it to fight for his freedom.”
Jackson felt a chill pass through him as he thought of the pain and dehumanization Scipio and so many others like him would’ve experienced. He could feel the pain of that trauma as if it were a living thing cutting through the fibers of his flesh until it rooted itself in his soul.
“During the four years of that war, he saved every penny he made in Galveston.” He could see a smile blooming on her full lips and stepped closer just to get a better view. “He was there on Juneteenth when Union soldiers read Major General Gordon Granger’s order upholding and enforcing Lincoln’s Proclamation. So as a free man, he returned to this land and found it in disrepair. Bless all the angels in heaven that his wife and children hadn’t been sold off or worse. They were still enslaved on the ranch. Scipio informed them and the widow owner that they were now free.
“Family lore has it he told the widow she could keep the land and he would take his family and leave her broke with nothing, or she could leave the land and have his money. What he offered her was a small fortune for the deed. She turned over the deed quickly. He renamed it Restoration Ranch because the land that was once his condemnation to a brutal life became his redemption. When the former owner cleared out, Scipio tore down all the old structures. This one was the first one he built as the owner. He made it his home.”
Jackson noted the gleam of pride in her eye as she spoke of her ancestor. More than a century had passed since Scipio Henry had courageously secured this land for his family. Jackson couldn’t even imagine the strength it must have taken to endure fighting through the bonds of enslavement to freedom to make sure his people would always have something of their own. But watching his descendant six generations later as she told this story, Jackson understood where Aja’s unshakable resolve came from.
“For over a hundred years, this land has passed from parent to child. After my aunt and uncle, I’m the last direct descendent of Scipio. I’m the last one left to carry on Scipio’s legacy of restoring and rebuilding the land and our family’s name. It’s why I jumped at the chance to participate in Pathways. I knew Scipio and all my ancestors leading up to him would agree with my choice to help people like Seneca and Brooklyn. It’s why you’ve got to stop whoever’s trying to destroy it, and me. If they succeed, there will be no one left to carry on the legacy, and everything Scipio sacrificed for will be gone.”
Watching Aja caress this old shack like it were a palace as she recounted her family’s history eased something in Jackson he couldn’t quite identify. Why should he care that she took pride in where she came from? She was someone he’d been tasked to work with, nothing more. But knowing her past somehow made her seem planted in the land. Not merely an owner on paper but someone whose roots were deeply sewn into the fabric of the landscape.
Jackson walked his sight from the top of Aja’s braided hair down the deep, full curves of her body, to her work-boot-covered feet and back. She was confident and vibrant, qualities any man would be attracted to. But in that moment, he recognized Aja was more than her attractive parts. She was a woman committed to her family, loyal to the ancestors she’d never met.
In his experience, people weren’t made like this. Not anymore. They didn’t remain true to ideals and morals such as loyalty. It was all about individual success and happiness. Getting ahead the best way you could without worrying about anyone else. And yet here she was, a big, beautiful, and bright light, a beacon shining on him, showing him a better way, a better model of what he’d ached for all his life.
His silence must have pulled her out of her musings, because she turned to him, sharing a genuine smile, chipping away at his exterior. And as he stood there marveling in her glory, the singular thought to cross his mind was: Why couldn’t I have met you first?
Chapter 7
Jackson knocked twice and waited for one of his men to answer the door. Colton answered
. Once Jackson was across the threshold and heard the lock click in place behind him, Colton jutted his chin in his direction. “You finished your date with the boss lady?”
Jackson gave the open room a single glance, spotting Storm sipping what looked to be a glass of juice on the nearby sofa. “I’m assuming you both took a look around already.” He knew Colton would’ve stopped him at the door if neither he nor Storm had swept for any obvious audio or video equipment in use in the cabin. But there was never any harm in double-checking his facts.
Both Colton and Storm answered yes, so Jackson moved over to the sofa where Storm was sitting, pulled a map of Restoration Ranch out of his back pocket, and unfolded it until it covered the coffee table he was leaning over.
Colton sat in a recliner adjacent to the sofa. “It’s not polite to answer a question with a question. I asked you about your time with the boss lady.”
Jackson ran a hand over his close-cropped dark curls and scratched his head. “Date? It was more like an exercise in frustration. I don’t understand how someone with all those fancy degrees can be so uneducated about safety. This ranch is basically a series of open gates for anyone who wants to trespass.”
“What we looking at, Jackson?” Storm asked.
“Too much access.” Jackson sat on the couch, the agitation over his discovery still resting between his tense shoulders. “Most of the perimeter has an expansive wooded area that pretty much keeps it safe from the outside.” He tapped the three sections he’d marked with bright-red ink with his finger. “But these three spots are a real problem.”
Colton leaned in to get a better look at the map. “They don’t look all that close to each other either.”
Jackson Page 5
