by Jill Lynn
Until now—until seeing Mackenzie again. The need to work, to not spend his days lazing around, might not be worth this headache. And yet the challenge of something new, of helping out Luc and Mackenzie and Emma, still pulled at him.
Jace wasn’t ready to give up a qualified ride yet, even though that was probably exactly what Mackenzie hoped and prayed he would do.
But since Jace’s prayers were the opposite, that left them in a spiritual tug-of-war. Because, as far as Jace knew, God didn’t pick sides. He loved both of them. And the Man upstairs was going to have to work this out. Because Jace didn’t see Mackenzie calling a truce anytime soon.
“Well.” Mackenzie shuffled papers on the table, which held her attention like her favorite pair of boots. Finally she glanced up, regarding him with as much contempt as she might a door-to-door salesman peddling high-priced skin-care products. “I should show you the trails. You might lead some rides, and either way you’ll need to know where the groups are in case of an emergency.”
“Don’t I already know them?” They’d been all over this land together in high school. Had ridden more times than he could count.
Jace had preferred time with Mackenzie over the agony of watching his brother try to figure out how to live after losing part of his leg. It had been pretty awful around his house for a while. When Jace had been eleven, their father had been killed in a bar brawl. Drinking had always been his most important relationship, and his presence in their lives before that had been sporadic. Four years later Evan’s foot and part of his leg had been amputated because of a lawn-mower accident. Mom had struggled—working constantly to support them and pay for Evan’s medical bills.
Jace had escaped to Wilder Ranch all of the time in high school. Kenzie Rae had been his escape. The truth of that made every bruised, broken and sprained muscle or bone he’d experienced riding bulls roar back into existence.
“You’ll know some. But a few are new.” She strode to the door and then paused inside the frame, tapping the toe of her boot with impatience when he didn’t immediately sprint after her. “You coming?”
“Right behind you.”
And that was how it was on the trail, too. Mackenzie led. Jace followed. There was no riding next to each other. No conversation.
Only him trying—and failing—not to notice everything about her. Being relegated to the back seat on the ride gave him the chance to drink her in, to catalog the slight changes that had come with time. Jace had left a girl behind and had come back to find a woman. One who didn’t need him. Didn’t want him. Didn’t know why he’d done what he’d done.
With her dark blond hair slipped through the back of a baseball cap, and wearing a simple gray V-necked T-shirt, jeans and boots, Mackenzie turned casual into a heap of trouble.
They rode enough of the new trails that he gathered what he needed to know between her directions and the hand-drawn map she’d tucked into her back pocket.
When they reached a wide, smooth path that carved through open pasture, she didn’t give him even the slightest heads-up before urging her horse into an all-out gallop.
The smart thing to do would be to let her ride. Enjoy the view. But Jace had never been one to take the easier road.
He nudged his horse into action.
If he’d thought Mackenzie was distracting earlier, seeing her fly wasn’t helping matters.
The flat-out run was worth it—gave him a hint of that risking-it-all feeling—but by the time Mackenzie slowed Buttercup and eased her back into the trees, the dull ache in Jace’s head had ramped up from barely noticeable to jet-engine-roar levels. And his ribs were on fire.
Probably not his best move, since he was supposed to be taking it easy. But not joining Mackenzie would have been painful in other ways. For a few seconds he’d felt young and free. Like they still had their whole futures ahead of them. He missed that, especially now. If Jace couldn’t go back to rodeoing, what would he do with himself?
He’d never been any good at school. Or any job other than the one currently dangling out of his reach.
“You weren’t lying when you said you could ride with one arm.” Mackenzie tossed the comment/compliment over her shoulder as they reached the hot springs and she dismounted. It registered in Jace’s chest, warm and surprising. Getting ahead of yourself, Hawke. She didn’t say she was crazy in love with you, just that you could handle a horse.
Jace mimicked her dismount, needing a second to steady the wavelike motions crashing through his noggin. He’d give a hefty sum of money for an ice pack to press against his wailing ribs, which were none too pleased with his recent activity.
Mackenzie must have realized her mistake in leading them to the hot springs, because her vision bounced from the water, to him, then back.
Yep, you sure did deliver us right back to the past.
They’d been out here plenty of times when they were young. Had stolen kisses in those very waters.
Back then she’d welcomed an advance from him. Even initiated.
Jace wobbled and managed to right himself while Mackenzie was thankfully looking in the other direction. He was far weaker than he should be, which only added to the angry rhythm inside his skull.
He hated being sidelined. Benched. Hated it even more that he didn’t know when or if these concussion side effects would go away or get better.
The arm, the spleen, the ribs—none of that bothered him, because he knew they’d heal. But his noggin had a mind of its own.
He dropped to sit on a rock in the shade and settled his head in his hands. He sensed Kenzie moving but didn’t look up. And then a canteen appeared between his arms.
“Thanks.” He took it, meeting those stormy eyes. She walked toward the hot springs as he drank. The water was cool, crisp and, if he wasn’t mistaken, the faintest taste of her mint Chapstick still coated the lip. He plucked a pill out of his front pocket and shot it down before Mackenzie turned back in his direction.
She studied him as she neared, stopping about five feet away. Enough that he could feel her intense observation, but not so close that she actually stepped foot into his world, his space.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine. Just hot, I guess.” He took another swig.
“Your arm hurting?”
He hadn’t even thought about that slight discomfort today. “Nah. I’m good.”
Except he wasn’t.
Mackenzie was a deer in the forest. Still. Analyzing. Eyes morphing to slits. She’d have him figured out in two seconds flat if this kept up. And for some reason he didn’t want her to. If she knew about the ribs or spleen, that would be fine. But his head felt too...personal. No one knew that Dr. Karvina had advised he quit riding.
I’m going to level with you, Jace. If this were me or one of my sons, I’d quit now. I can’t tell you how many concussions you can survive without permanent damage. It’s not worth the risk. I’ve seen too many lives taken or changed forever by this sport.
His doctor’s advice haunted him. Concussions were a big deal these days. Last year a young rider had committed suicide after one too many. After his death, the autopsy had confirmed he had CTE, a terrible disease that came from repeat trauma to the brain.
Head injuries had messed with his moods, his memory, even his personality. Gunner’s last hit had been a whopper though. But still, no one knew the exact number of concussions that would be okay. Or how many would push a guy over the edge. Ever since the young cowboy had taken his own life, the rules had gotten stricter for all of the riders. It was logical—Jace could admit that. But that didn’t make it easy to think about losing everything.
Which was why so many guys still did what they wanted—still rode when they shouldn’t.
And Jace understood that, too. He wasn’t done riding. It was his life. His people. He’d done it for his brother, but it had become his, an
d he wasn’t going to quit now.
And he certainly wasn’t going to discuss any of this with Mackenzie. The woman who constantly wanted to kick him in the shins and then slug him.
Maybe he should just explain why he’d left. Get it all out in the open now. She could still hate him then, but at least she’d have answers.
“Kenzie Rae.”
She’d begun pacing back toward the water but now whirled around.
“I have something to say—”
“Don’t.” She bristled, and her finger jabbed in his direction. “Just don’t.”
“You don’t even know what it is!”
“Is it about Wilder Ranch?” Her tone snapped as fast and furious as a snake’s strike.
“Nope.”
“Then I don’t want to hear it.” She mounted up—the equivalent of a kid placing their hands over their ears. “We should get back.”
He didn’t move. Just glued himself to her until she called uncle and wrenched her gaze away.
“I’ve got things to do, Hawke.” The reins twitched in her hands. He’d made her uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure why that ignited a flicker of happiness in his gut. Probably because it meant he still affected her. And since she was under his skin like a chigger, yeah, that eased the sting a bit. “You know your way from here.” She turned her horse. “I’ll see you when you get back.”
And then she left him. Sitting in her dust, her canteen still in his hands, words dying on his tongue that had needed to be said for seven years.
Huh. So that was what that felt like.
Chapter Three
Seven days at the ranch, and nothing had changed.
Mackenzie still didn’t want him here. And Jace still refused to go.
Though he was starting to doubt his decision. Kenzie’s disdain for him was beginning to seep into the cracks of his confidence.
Should he give in and quit? Crash on his mom’s couch for the next weeks or months, instead of his room at the ranch? Go absolutely crazy from boredom and live suffocated by the fear that he’d never heal and return to his career?
He just couldn’t function that way. No matter how much he’d like to not torment Mackenzie. Besides, he liked it here. Liked leading trail rides, the weather, the views, the wrangler competitions they entertained the guests with at night. Guest ranch life was busy—so full of people and staff and horses that his mind hadn’t gotten bogged down with what-ifs about his injuries and the future.
Definitely not the worst job he’d had.
Except for the woman who hated him.
Oh, hate might be too big of a word for how Mackenzie felt about him. He was a pebble in her boot. An annoyance that she planned to ignore.
And then she approached the table where he was eating lunch with guests and other staffers and did exactly that.
She asked the guests how their day was going. She made sure to acknowledge each of the staff. And then she left the dining room. Didn’t she realize that completely ignoring him was more noticeable than treating him like she did everyone else?
Jace popped up, cleared his dishes and then chased after her. He caught sight of her in the lodge living room—an inviting place with high ceilings, comfortable furniture and a massive fireplace that begged for snowstorms and cold winter nights.
Mackenzie’s hair was down today—long and wild, and bringing him back to high school and the memory of what it had felt like to thread his fingers through those waves and kiss that mouth that had once been receptive to his.
Even in her jeans and a simple Wilder polo, the woman could cause a freeway pileup. She had on turquoise boots today—the third different pair he’d seen her wear since he’d arrived at the ranch. Mackenzie had hated shopping back in high school. Her only girlie addiction had been boots. Apparently that infatuation had continued.
No guests occupied the lobby at the moment, so Jace called out to her, “Kenzie Rae.”
She turned to face him, upset heating her cheeks. At his presence or the use of her nickname?
Either way she’d have to adjust.
He stopped in front of her, ignoring her obvious irritation at his interruption. “What do you need me to do tonight?”
Being that this was his first week, he was still learning the schedule. Mackenzie might not want him here, but while he was, he planned to do a good job of whatever they asked him to do.
The glint in her eyes was quick as a bullet and disappeared just as fast. “The square dance is tonight.”
Huh. He wouldn’t be much of a help with that.
“Why don’t you lead it?”
Jace snorted. “Ha. Very funny.” She didn’t laugh, didn’t join in. “Wait. You’re serious?”
“Why not? Luc seems to think you’re so qualified to be working here. Not that anyone asked me. So, if that’s the case, you can be in charge tonight.”
“So that’s how you’re going to play it? I don’t have any idea how to square-dance. You know I’m a pathetic dancer.” The only real rhythm he’d ever had was on a bull. When he’d competed on the weekends in high school, Mackenzie had always come to watch him ride when she hadn’t been working herself. After, there’d often been a dance, a band, a crowd. A few times they’d attempted the steps, but never with much success. Once or twice he’d just held her. Held on as if his life had depended on it. On her. He supposed it had in a way. She’d been everything to him. The future he’d denied himself when he’d chased Evan’s dreams.
“I haven’t seen you in seven years, so I know nothing of the sort.”
Silent accusations brimmed, and Jace understood them. Had she wondered what he was up to over the years? If he was dating anyone? Because he’d wondered those things about her. It would have destroyed him to find out she was in a relationship or married, even though he didn’t have any right to her anymore.
“I didn’t take you to be vindictive, Kenzie Rae.” He dropped the name on purpose now, goading, a little of her anger seeping over to him.
“Really? Maybe you don’t know me at all anymore. I’m not sure you knew me then either.”
Sweet mercy. The woman’s punches were fast and furious and vicious and deserved. Jace rubbed a hand over his certain-to-be-gaping chest wound before that same traitorous hand snaked out and latched onto her arm.
The heat between their skin sizzled as much as their rising irritation. “I knew everything about you back then and vice versa.”
“The Jace I knew would never have left like you did.”
There would be no closing the wound today. Not with Mackenzie hitting the same spot over and over again. “I tried to tell you.” His voice dropped low, aching with remorse. “So many times. But the words always got stuck.” He swallowed. “And when I did manage to get some of it out, you didn’t listen.”
For a split second she’d softened during his speech. Those mesmerizing eyes had notched down from bitter to curious, tell me why shooting from them. But at his you didn’t listen, everything in her hardened and lit like fireworks.
“I’m not doing this.” She shook his hand loose as if he were nothing more than dirt—or worse—hitching a ride on her boots. “This is exactly why I was so mad that Luc hired you. Wilder Ranch is my family business, Hawke. My life. And you’re not in it anymore. As far as I’m concerned, your time here is strictly about work. I don’t want to hear any of this. It’s too late to make apologies...if that’s even what you’re doing. It’s too late to try to blame me for what you did. So if you want to be here, figure out how to lead the square dance, because as your boss, that’s what I’m directing you to do.”
Before Mackenzie could take off or Jace could process his jumbled thoughts enough to respond, the screen door to the lodge opened and Emma walked inside. Thankfully it was her and not a guest. She was all sunshine in a yellow shirt, jeans and rain boots as she paused to study
them—probably taking in their irritated body language or analyzing whatever she’d just overheard.
Emma bravely continued in their direction. “Everything okay in here?” A faint curve of her lips attempted to diffuse the negative energy that surely radiated from them.
Kenzie’s gaze slit and slid from him to her sister. “We’re great.” Fake perkiness punctuated her answer. “Jace and I were just discussing his duties for tonight. And he was expressing how excited he is about them. I mean—” her sarcasm ramped up “—since this is the perfect place for him to work, and Luc seems to think he’s so qualified, I thought I’d give him some more responsibility.”
Vicious woman. Jace willed himself not to find her attractive in the middle of her feisty little speech.
It didn’t work.
If Emma wasn’t watching them like a spectator at a UFC fight, Jace would seriously toy with the thought of kissing Mackenzie just to get her to stop spewing venom. An action that might very well leave him as messed up as stomping through a field of rattlesnakes.
“Of course. I’m happy to do anything I’m assigned.” Square dance? Fine. He’d figure it out. Somehow. There had to be another staffer who had a clue about what to do.
Mackenzie’s determination to boot him out of here only increased his resolve to stay. She should know better than to challenge him, to turn this into a competition. His whole livelihood depended on him besting a two-thousand-pound bull.
Emma’s strangled sigh was filled with exasperation, and a tinge of remorse lit in Jace. He shouldn’t have engaged with Mackenzie at all. Certainly not in the lodge lobby, where guests could walk through at any second of the day.
“Feel like you two could use a mediator. Or some workplace counseling. Is that a thing?” Emma beamed, finding her own joke amusing. Jace’s lips twitched, because the idea of Mackenzie and him sitting on a couch, trying to figure out how to work together when she couldn’t stand the sight of him, was funny, but he couldn’t let Mackenzie win the third-grade angry-staring contest they’d somehow begun.
