Tough Enough

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  Rachel nodded and watched her sister sit back down. She wondered about everything Kate had told her. Would Jim really settle down to ranching life on his father’s spread? For the first time, she saw hope for a future with Jim.

  THE NOONTIME SUN STREAMED into Rachel’s small but cozy kitchen as Jim sat sharing the lunch he’d promised with her. He’d stopped at a deli in town and gotten tuna sandwiches, sweet pickles and two thick slices of chocolate cake. Ever since he’d arrived, he’d been longing to take her in his arms again, to finish what they’d only started yesterday. But he could still see a slight swelling along her right cheekbone where it had been fractured. As badly as he wanted to make love to her, he would wait until she was healed. The way she carefully ate told him that moving her jaw caused her pain. Instead, he decided to tell her his news. “I quit my job at the fire department.”

  “To run the ranch?” Rachel asked, carefully chewing her sandwich and studying the man before her. Jim wore his dark blue uniform, leaving his baseball cap on the side of the table as he ate. He looked exhausted, and Rachel knew it was due to worrying over his father’s condition. She was glad he’d come by, though—how she had looked forward to seeing him again!

  “Yes,” he said, sipping the hot coffee. “I talked to the hospital and they’re beginning recovery therapy for my father. He’s got all kinds of medical insurance, so it won’t be a problem that way, thank God.”

  Rachel raised her brows. “It’s a good thing he has insurance. We have none. Can’t afford it.”

  “Like about one-third of all Americans,” Jim agreed somberly.

  “When will you bring him home?”

  “In about a week, from the looks of it.”

  “How do you feel about running the Bar C?” she asked tentatively.

  “Odd, I guess.” He exchanged a warm look with her. “When I left after high school, I figured I’d never be back. When I did come home, Father told me Bo and Chet would take over the ranch after he died.”

  “How did you feel about that?”

  “I didn’t care.”

  “And now?”

  He grinned a little. “I still don’t.” Reaching out, he captured her hand briefly. “I’ve got my priorities straight. I want a life with the woman who stole my heart when I was a teenager.”

  She smiled softly at the tenderness that burned in his eyes. “I still can’t believe you loved me all those years, Jim. You never said a thing.”

  “I was a shy kid,” he said with a laugh. “And I had the curse of my father’s Donovan-hating on top of it. That was the best reason not to approach you.”

  Rachel nodded and reluctantly released his hand. “I know,” she whispered sadly. Holding his gaze, she asked, “Have you ever wondered what our lives might have been like if our fathers hadn’t been carrying on that stupid feud?”

  “Yeah,” he said fondly, finishing off his second sandwich. Being around Rachel made him famished. “We’d probably have married at eighteen, had a brood of kids and been happy as hell.”

  Rachel couldn’t deny the possible scenario. “And now? What do you want out of life, Jim?”

  Somberly, he picked up her hand as she laid her own half-eaten sandwich aside. “You. Just you, princess.”

  Coloring, she smiled. “That’s a beautiful endearment.”

  “Good, because as an awkward, shy teenager, I used to fantasize that you were a princess from a foreign country—so beautiful and yet untouchable.”

  Her voice grew strained with tears. “What a positive way to look at it, at the situation.” Rachel gently pressed the back of his hand to her left cheek. The coals of desire burned in his eyes and she ached to love Jim. He’d made it clear earlier that, because her cheekbone was fractured, they should wait, and she’d agreed. To even try and kiss him was painful. Waiting was tough, but not impossible for Rachel. She understood on a deeper level that they needed the time to reacquaint themselves with one another, without all the family fireworks and dramatics going on around them.

  He eased his hand from hers. “I brought something with me that I’ve been saving for a long, long time.” He grinned sheepishly and dug into the left pocket of his dark blue shirt. “Now,” he cautioned her lightly, “you have to keep this in perspective, okay?”

  Rachel smiled with him. Jim suddenly was boyish, looking years younger. His eyes sparkled mischievously as he pulled something wrapped in a tissue from his pocket. “Well, sure. What is it, Jim?”

  Chuckling, he laid the lump of tissue on the table between them. “I had such a crush on you that I saved my money and I went to Mr. Foglesong’s jewelry store and bought you this. I kept dreaming that someday you’d look at me, or give me a smile, and we would meet, and at the right moment, I could give you this.” He gestured toward it. “Go ahead, it’s yours. A few years late, but it’s yours, anyway.”

  Jim saw Rachel’s cheeks flush with pleasure as she carefully unwrapped the tissue on the table. He heard her audible gasp and saw her dark green eyes widen beautifully.

  “Now, it’s nothing expensive,” he warned as she picked up a ring encrusted with colorful gems on a silver band. “It’s base metal covered with electroplated silver. The stones are nothing more than cut glass.”

  Touched beyond words, Rachel gently held the ring encircled with sparkling, colorful “diamonds.” “Back then, every girl wore her boyfriend’s ring around her neck on a chain.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, going steady.”

  “And you were going to give this to me?” She held it up in a slash of sunlight that crossed the table where they sat. The ring sparkled like a rainbow.

  “I wanted to,” Jim told her ruefully. “I saved my money and bought it the first year I saw you in junior high.”

  The realization that Jim had kept this ring through six years of school and never once had she even said hello to him or smiled at him broke her heart. No, he was a Cunningham, and Rachel, like her sisters, had avoided anyone with that name like the plague. She felt deep sadness move through her as she slipped the ring on the fourth finger of her right hand. It fit perfectly. Tears burned in her eyes as she held out her hand for him to inspect.

  “How does it look?” she quavered.

  Words choked in Jim’s throat as he slid his hands around hers. “Nice. But what I’m looking at is beautiful.”

  Sniffing, Rachel wiped the tears from her eyes with trembling fingers. “This is so sad, Jim. You carried this ring for six years in school hoping I’d say hello to you, or at least look you in the eye. Every time I saw a Cunningham coming, I’d turn the other way and leave. I’m so sorry! I didn’t know…? . I really didn’t know… ?.”

  “Hush, princess, it doesn’t matter. You came home and so did I, and look what happened.” His mouth curved into a gentle smile as he held her tear-filled eyes. “We have a chance to start over, Rachel. That’s how I see it.” Gripping her hand more firmly, he continued, “Life isn’t exactly going to be a lot of fun this next six weeks, but after that, things should settle out a little.”

  “I know,” she agreed. Six weeks. The trial would be coming up in a month and then Chet and Bo would get from the judge what they deserved. It would take six weeks for her fractured cheekbone to heal. And then … Her heart took off at a gallop. Then she could make love to Jim. The thought was hot, melting and full of promise. She ached to have him, love him and join with him in that beautiful oneness.

  “I’m sure my brothers will be going to prison,” Jim said in a low voice. “And my father is going to take up a lot of my time. I’ll have to get used to running the ranch. I was thinking of asking Sam for some help and guidance. He was the manager of the Bar C for a while, and he knows the inner workings of it. He can kind of shadow me until I get into the full swing of things.”

  Rachel nodded. “I know Sam would do anything to help out. We all will, Jim.”

  “Do you know how good that is to hear?” he rasped. “No more fighting between the Donovans and the Cunninghams. Now we
’ll have peace. Isn’t that something?”

  It was. Rachel sat there in awe over the realization. “I never thought of it in those terms before, but you’re right.” She gave a little laugh. “Just think, the next time your cattle stray onto our land or vice versa, no nasty phone calls. Just a call saying, ‘hey, your cows are straying again.’” She laughed. “Do you know how good that will be?”

  “The range war between us is over,” he said, patting her hand and admiring the ring on her finger once again. It was a child’s innocent love that had bought that present for her, but Jim felt his heart swell with pride that Rachel had put it on, nevertheless.

  “There’s something I want to tell you,” he said. “When I left here the other day after Bo and Chet assaulted you, I went home and had it out with my father.” He frowned. “It probably contributed to him having a stroke, but I can’t be sorry for what I told him.” He held Rachel’s soft green eyes. “I told him I was in love with you.”

  “Oh, dear, Jim.”

  “He needed to hear it from me,” he rasped. “He didn’t like it, but that’s life.”

  “And he accused you of being a traitor?”

  “Yes,” Jim replied, amazed by her insight. But then, he shouldn’t be surprised. She had always been a deep and caring person. “He said I was being a traitor to the family.”

  “What else? I can see it in your eyes.”

  Ordinarily, Jim would feel uncomfortable revealing so much of himself, but with Rachel, he felt not only safe in showing those depths within him, but he wanted to. “My father disowned—for the second time.”

  “No… ?.” Rachel pressed her hand against her heart as she felt and heard the pain in his voice, saw it clearly in his face and eyes. “And then he had that stroke?”

  “He had one of the wranglers drive him up to the Flag jail. From what I hear from Scott Maitland, who was there when my father entered into the jail facility, he got into a hell of a fight with the sheriff of Coconino Country, Slade Cameron. That’s when he had the stroke. They called 911 and he was taken right over to the hospital from there. Scott told me at the hospital, after I arrived, that my father was demanding that Cameron let my brothers go on bail. The judge had refused them bail, too, and Cameron was backing the judge’s decision to the hilt.”

  Inwardly, Rachel shivered. She knew why the judge had not given them bail. The Cunningham brothers had a notorious history of taking revenge on people who pressed charges against them. That was why they had gotten away without punishment until now—they’d threatened their victims until they dropped the charges. But not this time. Rachel would have kept pressing charges even if they had gotten bail.

  “So his anger blew a blood vessel in his brain,” Jim told her quietly. “I’m surprised it hadn’t happen before this, to tell you the truth.”

  She nodded and got up. Leaning against the counter, she studied him in the gathering warmth and silence. “How are you feeling about all this?”

  Shrugging, Jim eased out of the chair and came to her side. He slid his arm around her shoulders and guided her into the living room. “Guilty. I can’t help but feel that way, but I wasn’t going to live a lie with my father, either. He had to know I loved you and that I was going to testify in your defense at Chet’s and Bo’s trial.”

  She moved with him to the purple-pink-and-cream-colored couch near the fireplace. Sitting down, she leaned against him, contented as never before. “And even though he’s disowned you a second time, you’re going to stay and run the ranch?”

  Jim absorbed the feel of her slender form. How natural, how good it felt to have Rachel in his arms. Outside the picture window, he saw snowflakes twirling down again. The fire crackled pleasantly, and he’d never felt happier—or sadder. “Yes. This disowning thing is a game with my father. I know he meant it, but now it doesn’t matter.”

  Rachel rested her head against his strong, capable shoulder. “And you really want to run the Bar C?”

  “Sure.” He grinned down at her. “Once a cowboy, always a cowboy.”

  “An EMT cowboy. And a firefighter.”

  “All those things,” Jim agreed.

  “And when Bo and Chet get out of prison, what will you do? Hand the ranch over to them to run?”

  Sobering, Jim nodded. He moved his fingers languidly down her shoulder and upper arm. “Yes,” he said grimly, “I will.”

  “He’ll never be able to run it,” Rachel said worriedly.

  “Bo and Chet are the owners, technically. I know they aren’t going to want me around when they get out.”

  “And your father? What will you do? Continue to live there?”

  Gently, he turned Rachel around so that she faced him. “When the time’s right, I’m going to propose to you. And if you say yes, you’ll live over on the Bar C with me. We have several other homes. I’ll put my father in one of them and we’ll live at the main ranch house. Even though he disowned me, he’s going to need me now. And I’m hoping we can mend fences, at least for the sake of his health. When Bo and Chet get out, you and I will leave.”

  Rachel thrilled to the idea of being Jim’s wife. His partner for life. All her previous fears were gone and she knew that was because she was certain of her love for Jim. Heat burned in her cheeks and she held his hopeful gaze. “Kate wants us to live here. In this house, Jim. She already told me we were welcome here in case we got ‘serious’ about one another.”

  Grinning, he caressed her hair and followed the sweep of it down her shoulder. “Kate saw us getting together?”

  “Kate’s not a dumb post.”

  Chuckling, Jim nodded. “No, I’d never accuse her of being that, ever.”

  Sliding her hand up his cheek, Rachel felt the sandpaper quality of his skin beneath her palm. She saw Jim’s eyes go dark with longing—for her. It was such a delicious feeling to be wanted by him. “Then you wouldn’t mind living here and working on the Donovan Ranch instead when the time came?”

  “No,” he whispered, leaning over and placing a very light kiss on the tip of her nose, “why should I? I’ll have you. That’s all I’ll ever need, princess. Where I live with you doesn’t matter at all. It never did.”

  Sliding into his waiting arms, Rachel closed her eyes and rested her head against Jim’s shoulder. A broken sigh escaped her. The next six weeks were going to be a special hell for all of them on many levels. The trial would tear them all apart, she knew. And Jim would be away from her more than with her because he would have to be at the Bar C learning how to manage the huge ranch. And she, well, she had just rented an office in Sedona and there was a lot of pressure on her to get patients and start making money and contributing to paying off that huge debt against the ranch.

  “I can hardly wait,” Rachel quavered, “for these next six weeks to be done and gone.”

  Holding her tightly, Jim ran his hand along the line of her graceful back. Pressing a kiss to her hair, he murmured fervently, “I know, princess. Believe me, I know…”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE MID-FEBRUARY sunlight was strong and bright as Rachel sat on her horse, her leg occasionally touching Jim’s as the gelding moved to nibble the green grass shoots that surrounded them. The patches of snow here and there on the red clay soil of the Cunningham pasture was strong evidence of the fact that the steady snowfall would break some of the drought conditions that had held everyone captive.

  “The cattle are going to eat well,” Jim commented as he moved his hat up on his brow and gazed at Rachel. She looked beautiful in Levi’s, a long-sleeved white blouse, leather vest and black Stetson cowboy hat. Her hair was caught up in a single braid that lay down the middle of her back.

  Nodding, she leaned down and stroked the neck of her black Arabian mare. “For once.”

  They sat on their horses on a hill that overlooked both Donovan and Cunningham ranch land, a barbed wire fence marking the division line. Down below, on the Donovan side, Kate and Sam were working to repair the fence so that their cat
tle wouldn’t wander over onto Cunningham property. At least, Jim thought, this time there was going to be teamwork between the two families, and not angry words followed by violence.

  “How’s your father?” Rachel asked. Jim’s face took on a pained expression. Frank Cunningham had never recovered after the stroke as the doctors had hoped. He was now bedridden, with twenty-four-hour nursing care at the ranch house. Jim divided his duties between managing the huge ranch and trying to help his father, who had given up on living. She knew it was just a matter of time. Frank hadn’t been doing well since he’d found out that his two sons were going to prison. Bo got a year and Chet two years.

  “Father’s little better today,” he said, wiping the sweat off his brow. “That’s why I came out with the line crew.”

  “It does you good to get out of that office you’ve been living in.”

  Grinning a little, he held Rachel’s dancing, lively gaze. “I was going stir-crazy in there, if you want the truth.” Jim knew that ever since the trial, which had taken place two weeks earlier, Rachel had been upset and strained. For the first time, he was seeing her more relaxed. Now she had a thriving office filled with patients who wanted natural medicine, like homeopathy, instead of drugs. To say she was a little busy was an understatement. Income from her growing business was helping to pay off some bills on the Donovan Ranch.

  “What’s the chances of you coming over for dinner tonight?” Rachel asked, her heart beating a little harder. The ache to be with Jim, to share more time with him, never left her. The last six weeks had been a hell for them. They needed a break. She needed him. The stolen kisses, the hot, lingering touches, weren’t enough for her anymore.