by B. J Daniels
“Jack,” Chelsea said. “Ashley Garrett is getting married Saturday and I was thinking—”
“Ashley? Not that little imp who lived on the ranch next to yours?”
“Dylan’s little sister. She’s twenty-four and she’s marrying a lawyer named Kyle Blackstone—he lives in the same high-rise in San Antonio. It’s kind of a long story, but Ashley discovered a baby on Kyle’s doorstep and helped him look after it. Along the way they fell in love.”
“Was it this guy’s baby?” Jack asked. “Sounds like a familiar story to me.”
“I thought you might relate to the situation,” Chelsea said with a smile. “But no, Kyle isn’t the father of the child. Nor do they know who the mother is.”
“Well, whose baby is it?” Jack asked, obviously intrigued.
“A man named Mitch Barnes. I don’t know much about him, other than he’s an FBI agent who lived in the same building as Kyle.”
Comprehension registered in Jack’s eyes. “So whoever left the baby left her on the wrong doorstep.” He shook his head. “What a mess.”
“It gets better. When Kyle found out he wasn’t the father, he asked Mitch for help, hoping he could use his FBI connections rather than turn the baby over to social services. A doll had been left with Hope—that’s what Mitch renamed her—and Mitch recognized it right away. He suspected the mother was a woman he’d met in Rio.” Jack’s interest was promising, so she added, “It’s an amazing story. Maybe we’ll get to hear it when we meet Mitch at the wedding.”
Jack hadn’t missed the fact she’d said “we’ll.” “That is, if you…” She could see he was more than hesitant.
“Chelsea, you and I have a past. We can’t ignore that. If we have any hope of a future together, then we have to face it. That’s one reason I wanted to go to San Antonio.”
“To see my brother,” she said.
“Don’t get your hopes up that your brother is going to accept me,” he warned. “This wedding might not go like you’re expecting.”
She stared at him. “You don’t know my brother. Or my friends.”
He said nothing, but his gaze said, We’ll see about that.
Chelsea called to have her car delivered to San Antonio while Jack took care of canceling his ride in Oklahoma City. Then he went to get Sam and thank the Harpers, and tell everyone about C.J. The clown would be missed by everyone in the rodeo community.
When they returned, Chelsea told Sam, “Thanks for the doughnuts and the orange juice.”
The little girl shrugged and smiled as if it hadn’t been anything, but she turned to her father, an expectant look on her face.
“I especially liked the lemon-filled doughnuts,” he said. “They turned out to be Chelsea’s favorite. How about that? But I was surprised to see you up so early in the morning.”
“I used to get up that early every day when I went to school,” Sam said. Obviously she was more interested in how things were going between her dad and Chelsea. She glanced down the hallway, saw Chelsea’s overnight bag still packed from yesterday. “You aren’t leaving, are you?” she asked Chelsea, sounding worried.
“You and I need to talk,” Jack said.
Chelsea started to excuse herself, but Jack stopped her.
“About Chelsea and me…” he began.
“I know all about it,” Sam said. “Mrs. Harper told me that you need someone to share your life with because I won’t always be around to take care of you.”
“Well, Chelsea and I have some things to work out,” he explained.
“I know. Mrs. Harper told me about that, too,” Sam replied. “But she said that if the two of you really love each other, then everything will work out.”
“She did?” Jack shook his head, then seemed to give up on it. “Chelsea wants us to go to a wedding with her.”
“A wedding?” Sam looked hopeful.
“It’s a wedding for a friend of hers in San Antonio, so we’re going to head that way today. I thought we’d stop in Six Flags if you think you’d like that.”
Sam acted as if he’d just offered her the moon. Her gaze flew to Chelsea. “The three of us?”
“The three of us,” Jack said.
“Great! Wait until I tell Becky,” she cried.
“Hold on, now, don’t go around telling people that Chelsea and I—”
“I’ll just tell Becky about Six Flags!” She took off at a run with Jack calling after her to be right back since they would be leaving for Fort Worth.
When Chelsea looked at Jack, he seemed relieved. He hadn’t had to try to explain their relationship. Chelsea suspected he hadn’t quite decided what it was yet.
* * *
THEY DROVE to Fort Worth, but Jack insisted they get a hotel near Six Flags rather than stay in the motor home. He rented two rooms, one for his “girls” and the other for himself.
“Sam, you act as if you’ve never stayed in a hotel before,” Jack said to his excited daughter.
“I never have!” she cried. “We even have a pool! Can we go swimming, please, please, please?”
“I have to get something to wear if we’re going swimming,” Chelsea said with a laugh. “There’s a shop downstairs.”
“I thought we’d go out to dinner,” Jack suggested. “Maybe someplace nice.”
She smiled at him, wondering if he was doing all of this for her? Or for Sam? She hoped it wouldn’t set him back financially but knew better than to offer to pay. This was obviously something he wanted to do.
Her pleasure in their outing was clouded as she thought of the two murders. She wouldn’t rest easy until Ace was found, but she refused to let it spoil this time with Jack.
Sam surprised her by wanting to come along shopping when Chelsea asked her. Sam sashayed through the racks of clothing, touching the different fabrics before hastily moving on.
Chelsea watched her, wondering if she was curious about “girl” clothes. Even as a tomboy at that age, Chelsea remembered being interested.
Luckily she’d had friends and friends’ moms. Sam had Abigail to talk to about such things, but only when their schedules coincided. And there was Jack, but what did he know about girl stuff?
“I didn’t see any dresses in your suitcase,” Chelsea said to Sam, wading in tentatively.
Sam looked up in surprise to find Chelsea behind her. She jerked her hand back from a dress she’d been eyeing. “A dress?”
“You do own a dress, right?”
“No.” Sam rolled her eyes as if to ask what she would need a dress for.
“You’ll need one for the wedding.”
Sam looked torn. “Dresses are…gross. They’re so… frilly and girlie.”
“They don’t have to be,” Chelsea said carefully. “They can be sleek, stylish and very sophisticated.”
Sam seemed to consider that.
Chelsea bought a swimming suit and a dress for dinner, trying not to get her hopes up, and yet they floated bright and buoyant as party balloons.
After a swim in the hotel pool, she showered and dressed, adding a dab of perfume behind her ears and between her breasts, taking pains with her makeup. She wanted everything to be perfect tonight.
She glanced over in surprise to see Sam standing in the bathroom doorway watching her apply her makeup.
The girl looked uncomfortable at being caught. Chelsea glanced down at the perfume bottle in her hand. “Would you like some?”
Sam looked stricken.
“Just a dab? I promise it won’t make you smell too much like a girl.”
Sam answered with a shy smile. “Just a little dab.”
Chelsea touched her fingertip to the opening, then behind Sam’s ear.
“It smells good.” Sam sounded surprised. She studied the array of cosmetics on the counter.
“Would you like to try, say, a little blush?” Chelsea offered.
“I don’t want to look…funny.”
Chelsea smiled, realizing that without a mother around, Sam probably h
ad never seen anyone put on makeup except the rodeo clowns. “Here, let me show you,” she said, motioning to the toilet seat. Sam sat down and seemed to brace herself. “The trick is not to put on so much that you look…funny.”
Deftly Chelsea applied a little blush, a touch of lipstick and a dab of mascara to Sam’s features. “What do you think?”
Sam looked in the mirror and laughed, then moved closer. “My eyes are bigger.”
“What are you trying to do?” Jack demanded, making them both jump as he came through the door connecting the two rooms. He stood glaring at them, a look of shock on his face.
“We were just playing with a little makeup,” Chelsea said, surprised by his obvious disapproval.
“Wash that off at once!” he ordered his daughter.
“But, Dad!” Sam protested.
“What were you thinking?” he demanded through gritted teeth as he motioned her into the adjacent room. “She’s too young for makeup.”
“Of course she is. But she isn’t too young to experiment with it, Jack,” Chelsea said, keeping her voice down. She could hear Sam crying softly in the bathroom, the water running. “Girls play dress-up. She was just curious and we were having some fun. Why are you behaving this way?”
“She’s just a child!”
“She’s a nine-year-old girl, Jack. Of course she’s going to be curious about girl stuff.”
“She wasn’t before you showed up,” he challenged.
“She was, Jack, but you just didn’t know it. Girls experiment with makeup. Occasionally, they even wear dresses. Sam told me she doesn’t even have a dress.”
“A dress on the rodeo circuit?”
“Jack, she’s a girl. Most girls learn this stuff from their mothers. There is nothing wrong with—”
“Sam doesn’t have a mother,” he snapped, “and I don’t want her getting hurt when this thing between us doesn’t work out.”
Chelsea stared at him in disbelief. “When this doesn’t work out?” She shook her head, so angry she could spit. First he’d overreacted about the makeup, and now—
Sam came out of the bathroom, her face scrubbed clean and her eyes red from crying. Chelsea wanted to shake Jack. But instead she turned to the girl. “I’m sorry, Sam. This is all my fault.”
Sam shook her head. “Can I go watch TV until we have to go?” she asked her father.
Chelsea also turned to look up at him, her gaze accusing.
Jack looked properly chastised. “Sure, honey,” he said to his daughter as he brushed a lock of her hair from her damp face. “I’m sorry. I guess I don’t know much about this girl stuff.”
“It’s okay, Dad.” She slipped past him to the other room, leaving them alone.
“Don’t bother to say it,” Jack grumbled.
Chelsea tilted a brow.
“I’m sorry, all right?”
She could see that he was sorry, but the incident had spoiled their evening. Worse, it showed just how little faith Jack had in their relationship working.
* * *
JACK WISHED he could turn back the clock. He couldn’t believe the way he’d overreacted. But just seeing his little girl experimenting with makeup had terrified him. How was he ever going to manage the teenage years?
To make it up, he took them to a nice steakhouse he’d heard about. Both Sam and Chelsea gave him the silent treatment. When he thought about it, he wasn’t sure what had upset him the most—the idea of Sam growing up before his very eyes, or worry that he hadn’t given his daughter what she really needed. A mother.
Damn it, he’d done the best he could, but what did he know about all the female stuff? Wasn’t Sam too young to care about any of that? Apparently not.
After they ate, Sam went to look at the fish swimming in a large aquarium along one side of the restaurant.
“About earlier with Sam,” he began.
“It’s all right,” Chelsea said.
“It’s just that…” He shook his head.
“That as long as Sam doesn’t act like a girl, you can handle it?” she guessed.
Good guess. “What do I know about what girls need?”
She smiled slowly. “Obviously nothing.”
“Damn it, Chelsea, I thought taking her on the circuit was the best thing for her. I’d considered leaving her with my mother so she could go to school and have a woman in her life, but—”
“Jack, you did the right thing,” Chelsea said, reaching across the table to take his hand. “Sam has turned out beautifully. You did a great job!”
But now she needs more than I can give her, he thought. She needs a mother.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE NEXT MORNING, after a long, lonely night alone in his king-size bed without even the sound of Sam’s little-girl snores close by, Jack woke to find both females talking to him again.
To his surprise, his mistake from the night before seemed to be forgiven. Or maybe it was just the prospect of a day at Six Flags.
They spent the day going on rides, eating corn dogs and cotton candy, walking until even Sam started to get tired. Jack couldn’t remember ever laughing as much as he did with Chelsea and Sam. He could see that the two had bonded. He knew if he wasn’t able to work things out with Chelsea, it would break his daughter’s heart. And his own.
He couldn’t just keep ignoring the problem. His last ride had put him in the top world standings. Plus he’d taken home a purse of more than five thousand dollars. That might be chicken feed to Chelsea, but all he needed was a couple more good rides and he would be in the National Finals. If his luck continued, he’d bring home another world championship and then…
He dared not even think about then. He’d promised Sam a horse. That meant a ranch and leaving the circuit. But it couldn’t be just any ranch. And he wasn’t ready to settle for less than his dreams.
So he had to keep riding bulls. But he knew if he did, he could lose Chelsea. And for his and Sam’s sake, he couldn’t let that happen. Somehow he had to find a way around the problem.
“I had a great time today,” Chelsea said on the way to San Antonio that evening.
“I had a great time, too,” Jack replied. He’d noticed that Chelsea seemed down tonight, as if something were bothering her. He figured it was going back to San Antonio, back to her friends and family. Surely by now she must have realized that he wouldn’t fit in. That she’d made a mistake by thinking she wanted him in her life—let alone a nine-year-old girl who wasn’t even hers.
“I know Sam really enjoyed it,” she said distractedly. Sam was asleep in the back. She’d gone out like a light as soon as they hit the road.
“I thought we could have a talk after the wedding tomorrow night, just the two of us.”
She glanced over at him, the look in her eyes so hopeful it broke his heart.
* * *
CHELSEA WAITED for him to say more. He hadn’t mentioned anything about their “problem,” but she wasn’t foolish enough to think that just because they’d made love, their troubles were behind them.
If only they could get past what had happened ten years ago. Now that C. J. Crocker had cleared Jack’s name regarding the rustling… But she knew she was only kidding herself. The heart of the problem was the Wishing Tree. Jack didn’t ever want to go back to her family’s ranch. There were too many awful memories for him and he could never be happy living there with her. But she couldn’t bear the thought of never returning to her home.
She’d thought about nothing else last night as she had lain alone in her queen-size bed, Sam sleeping in the adjacent bed, a reminder of everything she had to lose.
If she wanted Jack and Sam, she would have to pay the ultimate price. She would have to give up the Wishing Tree, but that would be like cutting out a part of her heart.
She’d turned her face into the pillow and cried, praying there was another way. She’d give up anything but the Wishing Tree. Anything but Jack and Sam.
But this morning, when she’d opened h
er eyes, no other answer had come to her. And as they neared San Antonio, she knew it had come down to a choice between the land and life she loved—and the man and child she loved. What kind of choice was that?
She was startled when her cell phone rang. Answering it, she hoped it was news of Ace’s arrest. She didn’t like the idea that he was out there somewhere.
“Let me talk to Jack,” said a familiar male voice.
“Cody?”
“Jack first, then you can make me eat crow, okay, Chels?” Cody snapped.
She handed the phone to Jack with a shrug.
Jack’s side of the conversation was mostly “Yes,” “No” and “I understand.” When he was finished he handed the phone back.
“Yes?” she asked.
“I apologized,” Cody told her.
“I know how difficult that must have been for you,” she said, filled with pride in her brother.
“I was wrong. Dylan told me that Crocker had named Ace and cleared Jack. I’m man enough to admit it when I’m wrong.”
Any other time she might have argued that. “Thanks.”
“Yeah. See you at the wedding. It sounds like you’ll be there with Jack.”
Chelsea realized she hadn’t mentioned Sam to anyone. “Yes, Jack and I will be there, and Sam.”
“Sam?” Cody asked.
“Jack’s nine-year-old daughter.” She hung up and gave Jack an I-told-you-so smile.
Jack nodded, smiling back at her, but she could see that he still wasn’t convinced Cody Jensen would ever accept him. Unfortunately, she wasn’t all that sure, either. And ultimately, that raised the bigger problem between them: the Wishing Tree Ranch.
* * *
“I NEED TO BUY a dress for the wedding,” Chelsea said the next morning after breakfast and another long night of anguish.
Jack had been quiet all morning and she wondered if he regretted saying he’d go to the wedding. Sam was the only one who seemed happy. She loved the expensive hotel Jack had insisted on, the ornate rooms that overlooked the city, the mints on the pillows.
“Sam, do you want to come along?” she asked.
