by Jill Lynn
“You know what I’m really asking.” Her words clipped out—bitter, heavy and dripping with suppressed frustration. “Why are you here?” Translation: “Why are you at Wilder Ranch? My ranch.”
Because I have to work. Jace couldn’t handle inactivity. Laziness. Ever since he’d been fifteen and made a decision he was still paying for. He refused to sit around this summer, while he healed... And no one else was going to offer him a job that would interest him in the least for such a short amount of time. Plus Wilder Ranch—and Mackenzie’s family—had been a haven for him during the worst time in his life. If this place needed him, Jace couldn’t say no to that.
Even if Mackenzie wanted to drop a sledgehammer on his bare feet and then shove him across red-hot embers.
“Why not here?” His trite answer earned a flood of silent responses. First anger. So much that her cheeks turned a distracting shade of pink. The pop of color highlighted her striking features, rocking him like a gale-force wind. But before he could deal with his unwelcome surge of attraction, her look changed to resignation, then hurt. The last one didn’t stick around long, but it was enough to whop him in the chest. To make his heart hiccup.
Jace had never wanted to hurt Mackenzie. Not in a million years. He’d tried talking to her about his plans. He had talked to her. She just hadn’t listened.
Leaving her had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. He’d hated it. Had even hated himself after.
It had been about so much more than the two of them. It had been about his brother, Evan, who’d lost the chance to chase his dreams because of a stupid, lazy choice Jace had made.
So Jace had done it for him. He’d had to. There really hadn’t been a choice.
But it was seven years too late for explanations, and Mackenzie would crush them under her boot if he offered any up.
“You can’t do this job with a broken arm.” Her chin jutted in challenge.
“Exactly what can’t I do?”
“Ride a horse.”
He chuckled at that silly idea, and she stiffened so quickly that he was shocked steam didn’t shoot out of her ears. Jace really wasn’t trying to provoke her, but the idea of a fractured arm keeping him from riding a horse when he still had one good one was ridiculous.
“My arm won’t prevent me from doing this job, and you know it.”
A strangled argh came from her. Sweet mercy, she was mesmerizing when she was angry. All alive and mad and sparking.
“Jace.” His name on her lips shot a strange thrill through him. “Please don’t do this.” Gone was the burning fire. Now she was deflated. Edged with sharp steel—the deadly stab-you-through-the-heart kind. “I get that Luc thinks we need you. And yes, we need someone. But I need it not to be you.”
She packed a lot of punch into her spiel. And the fact that she’d shown him any kind of emotion—that she was practically pleading with him not to stay... Jace would like to grant her that wish. He really would.
But he couldn’t. Because he needed this ranch. And this place needed him back.
It would be the perfect situation if so much hadn’t gone wrong between him and Mackenzie.
“I’m sorry. But I can’t.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?” Her arms crossed over her Wilder Ranch–logoed shirt, forming a protective barrier, and a scowl marred her steal-his-oxygen features. Man, she was gorgeous. Tall, long and strong, with petite curves. Jeans that hugged her. Worn boots. She was—had always been—a walking ad for all things casual and country and mind-numbing. She hardly ever wore makeup. Didn’t need it. And her wild dark blond hair had most certainly air-dried into those relaxed waves, because she would never take the time to blow-dry it or spend more than five minutes in front of a mirror.
And yet she could take down most of the guys Jace knew with just one piercing glance from those gray eyes of hers. They weren’t blue. That was too simple of a description. They were storm-cloud eyes, so striking and unusual he’d yet to find another pair that had rendered him as helpless as hers did.
“Won’t.” She was already upset with him. He might as well fuel it. At least that would keep him from thinking she’d ever forgive him for leaving. From thinking that there could ever be a second chance between them.
Not that he wanted one. Because once Jace got the all clear to go back to rodeoing—despite the doctor’s recent warning that he shouldn’t be doing anything of the sort—he’d be long gone again.
Chapter Two
“I’m not doing it. I’m not training him.” Mackenzie winced at her petulant declaration, which was reminiscent of the tone her four-year-old niece, Ruby, used when she threw a fit. When the girl wanted to watch a show right now. And then usually ended up losing that very privilege because of her attitude.
Luc shook his head, his sigh long and ranking at a ten on the what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you scale.
The two of them sat on the corral railing as a gorgeous Colorado sunset showed off with pink-and-orange streaks kissing the mountains, and the cool air offered a respite from the warm late-spring day.
They’d been watching, encouraging and directing as the wranglers had practiced for one of the nightly performances they’d put on once the guests arrived. The first week might be rough, but it would come together.
It always did.
Ever since she’d been a little girl, Mackenzie had loved everything about Wilder Ranch. The guests who came back year after year. The wide-open land. The hot springs, the fishing, the shooting, the short drive to glorious, unfettered white-water rafting. This place just made sense to her.
Unlike Luc, she’d never had to run off for a time to figure out that this was where she wanted to be. She understood now why Luc had gone to Denver the fall after they’d graduated high school. But at the time she couldn’t have said anything of the sort.
After Luc’s return to the ranch, when their parents had decided to move to a different climate for their mom’s health, it had been a no-brainer that Mackenzie would stay and run the ranch with her siblings.
She’d never struggled with being here—until Jace’s appearance earlier today.
“If I give in on him staying...” Mackenzie still didn’t say his name. Couldn’t. “Then I should at least not have to train him.”
If. Mackenzie clung to the word even though that option was slipping through her fingers. Luc was as sturdy and dependable as tree roots that sank into the ground and held tight for centuries. He wouldn’t renege. If he’d hired Jace, Mackenzie didn’t have much hope of upending that offer.
But maybe she could avoid him. Not run away—that was too weak. But just happen to never work anywhere near him for the rest of the summer.
That sort of impossibleness.
Please, please, please.
“Okay. I will. But then you have to do my job.”
She groaned. She loathed bookwork. Paperwork. Life-sucking monsters. “I can’t believe you hired my ex.” That title was too formal. “My high school boyfriend.” That was a little better.
“I really didn’t know things ended badly between you, or I wouldn’t have. I can’t believe you hid that from me.”
Mackenzie didn’t defend her actions, because what he’d said was true. And hiding things from Luc was no easy task.
“I always just thought he’d left to ride bulls,” her brother continued. “I didn’t know you were so angry at him about it.”
Ouch. That smarted. “He left—” she swallowed, but it didn’t add any moisture to her mouth, which felt as if she’d been hiking for a week without provisions “—in a jerky way. Things didn’t end well.”
And then you left me, too.
Mackenzie hadn’t admitted to anyone how hurtful Jace’s departure had been. She was supposed to be strong, tough, solid—physically, yes. But also mentally. Emotionally. And Jace’s disappearance had cut so deep, she’
d been petrified that she’d never recover.
And then, before she’d even had a chance to begin doing exactly that, Luc had decided to move to Denver.
Both of them had abandoned her. It wasn’t the first time Mackenzie had been left behind. Nor, she doubted, would it be the last.
“My to-do list is long right now. There’s a stack on my desk of insurance issues and bills. Plus we’re having a website problem, so I need to call about that.”
“Can a person be allergic to paperwork?” Mackenzie rubbed a hand across the front of her neck. “I think my throat’s closing off.”
Luc snorted.
A fresh chill skimmed along Mackenzie’s arms as the quiet night expanded with chattering crickets and a slight breeze rustling new leaves.
“You know you’ll probably have to help out some when the babies come. I mean, I’m still planning to work, but Cate will need me. I promised her that she wouldn’t be on her own.”
This time. Mackenzie clenched her jaw. She’d gotten over what Cate had done in not telling Luc about Ruby until the girl was three years old. And it wasn’t even her business. Cate was really great. Luc loved her—that much was clear. And Mackenzie had gotten on board. Had forgiven her now sister-in-law for doing what she had done.
But Mackenzie was still protective of Luc. She always had been. When they were kids and he’d needed open-heart surgery, it had felt like she was on that operating table with him. Like she was being cut open, too.
Luc had always been her person. When he’d left the ranch, she’d been so mad. Mostly because she’d missed him so much. The day he’d decided to come home, his truck kicking up dust down the long ranch drive, it was as if she’d been taken off life support and her lungs had kicked into functioning mode again.
Now that Luc had a family, she still missed him sometimes. It only made sense that he’d spend most of his time with them. And yeah, she saw him plenty because they worked together. But he’d been her closest friend for most of her life. She wasn’t girlie. Didn’t have any desire to go shopping with Emma and Cate when they went on one of their marathon trips—she just...wasn’t built that way. Mackenzie had always hung out with the boys. She and Luc had shared friends. And pathetically, now that he had a life and she didn’t, she missed her brother. A mortifying confession she’d go to her grave denying.
“Hopefully the babies will sleep like champs and not fuss, but there’s no guarantee of that. I missed so much with Ruby, and I just can’t do that this time.”
Knife to the heart. Luc was right, and she should jump on the supportive-sister bandwagon and...support him. “Do you have to be so logical? Can’t you take a day off once in a while?”
He laughed. “You’re usually right there with me. But Jace has you messed up. I’ve never seen you so...shaken over a guy.”
Ho-boy. She didn’t like that description of her one bit. She was acting like a train wreck.
Mackenzie had to pull herself together and stop letting it show how much Jace got under her skin.
And really, why should he have that much of an impact on her? It had been so many years since he’d hightailed it out of town that she should be long over these jumbled, intrusive feelings.
Mackenzie didn’t think about Jace all of the time anymore. Not like she had when he’d first run away.
But she did have questions. Like, why had he called her the week after he’d left? And the next week, too? Two phone calls, no messages.
She’d been consumed by what she would do if she happened to catch his call. Would she answer or not?
Turned out her uncertainties hadn’t mattered, because the attempts to reach her had stopped.
Maybe Mackenzie’s issues were more with things left unsaid—undone—than the fact that she was still affected by Jace.
Maybe she was truly over him, but those whys remained.
If that were the case, she’d feel like far less of an idiot. Because that would mean she wasn’t still hung up on him. Just on how things had ended.
“I’ll train him.”
Luc’s head cocked to one side, as he studied her, analyzing her sudden change of mind.
“What? I can do it and be professional.” I think.
Mackenzie had to prove to herself that she could handle being around Jace without letting him affect her. Had to prove that he didn’t still have a hold on her.
And there was a secondary hidden agenda to her offer. If Luc were to train Jace, he’d be so thorough that Jace would be able to run the guest ranch himself in a week’s time. But if Mackenzie trained him...she could brush over things. Hurry along. It wasn’t like she had a bunch of extra time on her hands anyway.
Despite Luc’s confidence in Jace, the man had no idea what he was doing. He’d fail before long, and then he’d leave on his own.
Just because she refused to let Jace affect her anymore didn’t mean she wanted him anywhere near her or involved in her life.
So yes, Mackenzie would train him. Because the faster he failed, the faster he’d go away.
* * *
Jace would figure out how to make himself useful this summer if it killed him.
And this staff meeting might do exactly that.
Well, not the meeting so much as the ice-cold gusts rolling off Mackenzie. The ones giving him frostbite despite the sunny, seventy-degree weather outside.
“Jace will be helping out this summer.” Mackenzie spoke to the staff, who had gathered. The first full-week summer guests arrived tomorrow, and the group had been wrapping up last-minute details. “Especially with Luc and Cate expecting the babies. We’re not sure how all of that will go. So...” Mackenzie swallowed. Took about twenty years to continue. “Let’s welcome him.”
Let’s. Meaning everyone except for her. Mackenzie might be spouting one thing, but her body language said, Pack up and get out of here.
Jace had hoped that she’d calm down overnight and accept that he was planning to stick around for a bit. He’d thought maybe they could actually forget the past and get along for the summer. But if anything, Mackenzie was even chillier than she’d first been. At least yesterday she’d showed some emotion, asking him not to stay. But now? It was like she’d built a wall between them.
She’d offered him a clipped “good morning” earlier, when she’d told him which room in the guys’ lodging would be his and tossed him a key, but other than that, she’d avoided him as if he were a pest or a varmint or some kind of beauty product that she wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole.
And really, Jace didn’t expect anything else from her. He’d been a jerk leaving the way he had. Yes, he’d loved her. But he’d also had to go. The pull had been so strong, it hadn’t been a real choice. Not when his brother’s dream had become unattainable for him. Not when he’d told Jace to go, to live it for him.
Mackenzie dismissed the meeting, and the staff dispersed, their conversations light.
“I’m Boone. Good to have you here.” A young man offered his hand, and Jace shook it. The staffer didn’t look a day over sixteen. Was it even legal for him to work here at that age? Or perhaps he was still growing into his body. Either way, Jace didn’t plan to ask for details. When Luc had said they were low on veteran staff this summer, he hadn’t been exaggerating. Everyone seemed so young. Like puppies. No wonder they’d wanted to hire a lead. Jace might not have experience working a dude ranch, but he knew horses and livestock and pieces of ranching from working one during the summers in high school. People, he could do—he’d always had a way with the human species. So maybe this whole idea wasn’t so crazy after all.
“I follow bull riding. Saw a clip of the Widow Maker ride.”
Just the name of the bull caused Jace to break out in a flu-like sweat.
He’d watched the ride after the fact... He’d had to see it to know what had happened to him, because he didn’t re
member any of it. His body had been tossed and trampled like a rag doll in a terrorizing toddler’s hands.
It was amazing he’d survived the ordeal. He’d only watched the video once, and that had been enough.
“That was quite the ride.”
“You can say that again. You ride?”
“No. Did some mutton busting when I was younger, but nothing since.”
“You could always get back to it.” Possibly. Maybe. Though the kid was scrawny. “Let me know if you ever need any lessons.”
Boone grinned. “Not sure I’m willing to risk my life like that, but I’ll keep it in mind.” After a nod, he took off.
A girl—maybe around nineteen or twenty—was talking to Mackenzie, and their conversation was quiet. Everything about the girl was thin. Her body. The hair barely filling out her ponytail. Was she okay? It looked like the world had chewed her up and spit her back out. In contrast, Mackenzie glowed with health and strength.
Jace wasn’t trying to overhear, but their chat filtered in his direction. The girl was asking for an advance on her paycheck.
Mackenzie nodded, listening. “I’ll talk to Luc and Emma, and we’ll let you know.” She squeezed the girl’s arm in a reassuring gesture, and then the little mouse scampered off.
Mackenzie was supposed to train him today. At least that was what Luc had said. Jace wasn’t sure how that would work when she was treating him like a rat in the gutter, but he was game if she was.
The day was sure to be a barrel of fun. Especially since his head was teetering on the edge of a cliff, deciding, without his input, whether to calm down or throw a fit.
Which could be because he’d had a hard time falling asleep last night. Jace wasn’t sure which had caused that symptom—the concussion or the woman in front of him. It was a toss-up. Thoughts of Mackenzie—of the relationship they’d once had—had been resurrected like vivid movies. To the point that he’d finally slept and dreamed about her. Dreamed that he’d stayed in Westbend. That she didn’t hate him.
Things that had consumed his mind when he’d first left to ride bulls and had holed up in an apartment with a few other guys in Billings. And then the rodeo had fully distracted him. And finally, finally the part of him that had been screaming that he’d made a mistake had lightened up. Quieted.
