Which pissed her off.
“I,” she said, tossing her head breezily, “am going to be a tourist for a few hours.”
“What?” Gideon set the saddle down on his boot, pommel-down, leaning it against his leg to keep the padding clean. He crossed his arms. “With who?”
She shrugged. “With Jon.”
“Jon. You mean Jonathan Byers?”
The incredulity in his tone tweaked a nerve. “Why not? He needs something to do while his dad’s working with Haylee. And I could use a break.”
Just then, they heard the sound of car tires on gravel as Jon pulled up to Olivia’s flower bed near the corrals.
“You’re dating Jonathan.” Gideon’s voice landed like a fresh cowpat.
“Terminology is so confining,” she responded. “We’re just spending some time together. Neighborly. You know.”
“Neighborly.” Gideon made a strange noise in the back of his throat. “Good. Great. Have fun.”
Add that to the list of cube-mate-conversation material. She wanted to punch him.
“Thanks!” She grinned until she felt her cheeks might crack and fall off. “I thought it was time I turned over a new leaf. You know what they say. If you keep doing what you’ve always done, you’ll keep getting what you’ve always gotten. Maybe I’m tired of what I keep getting, Gideon. Maybe I want more.”
Oops. It wasn’t her cheeks that cracked. It was her voice.
She hadn’t intended for the words to come out with such intensity. Damn it, why did he always trigger her like this?
“Jamie,” began Gideon.
“No, no.” She held up both hands. “Forget it. I am going to have a great day. Now, be quiet. He’s here.”
Jonathan Byers got out of his car and oh, mama. Outside the context of his father, she was suddenly aware that the man was, well, beautiful. His hair glinted gold in the sunlight, matching the finish on the aviator sunglasses that set off his chiselled cheekbones. He wore faded jeans and a turquoise-blue long-sleeved T-shirt that would bring out the color of his eyes. His mouth curved into a smile as he walked toward her.
She ought to be all aflutter. Instead, she felt every molecule in her being straining toward the man beside her, instead.
“Gideon.” Jonathan nodded in greeting, then turned to her. “You look great, Jamie. Are you ready to go?”
Heat rose in her cheeks at the unexpected pleasure Jonathan’s words triggered. She’d taken pains with her appearance, but she chafed at her pleasure in his approval.
She didn’t want to care what anyone thought about her.
“Just getting my jacket.” She pushed past Gideon into the darkness of the stable and went to Apollo’s stall, where she’d last seen it.
Maybe this was a date and that’s why it felt so wrong. Adjusting her appearance to meet some hideously sexist standard of beauty was part of the deal, and she’d made a point, her entire life, of going out of her way not to impress others.
The old stallion whinnied, making her jump.
“Not you, too,” she said. “I’ve had enough male commentary already today.”
But when he reached his head over the stall door, she gave him a quick rub on his broad, scarred face. He nodded and whuffed, nudging her for a treat.
“Sorry, buddy.”
She pulled her jacket from where it was hanging on a nail, and went back to join the men outside.
But as she approached the doorway, she slowed. From the depths of the barn, she was invisible to them, but they were both illuminated, framed by the stable doors. Gideon stood on firmly planted legs, the saddle still at his side, his hands on his hips, deceptively casual.
Next to Jonathan, he was dark and rough, brooding and unpolished. A strange, dangerous energy flowed off him. If he’d been a dog, Jamie would have distracted him with a toy while someone else whisked the intruder away to forestall bloodshed.
But Gideon never lost his temper. It was one of the things she loved about him, how measured and controlled he was. When everyone else was losing their shit, Gideon took stock and made plans. He didn’t get angry.
But he was angry now.
Good.
“Found it,” she said, letting her hips sway as she walked past Gideon, and took Jonathan by the elbow. “Let’s go find us some whales. This is going to be a fun afternoon. See you later, Gideon.”
The chill wafting off his body made her shiver.
* * *
“Come back during the migration,” the boat captain said at the end of their trip. “That’s the time to see them.”
Jamie waved at him, wobbling off the boat on legs that felt like cooked spaghetti. Behind her, Jonathan carried the basket Daphne had sent with them. Jamie’s portion of their snack was now feeding the fishes off the coast of Bandon.
“How are you doing?” asked Jonathan for the tenth time. He’d been clearly confused as to his role during the whole puke-a-thon, first patting her back gingerly, then bringing her tissues, then finally opting to leave her alone in her misery, which was what she preferred anyway.
Actually, she’d considered throwing herself overboard, but figured it would have an adverse effect on the boat owner’s insurance. It wasn’t his fault she was seasick.
Nor was it his fault they hadn’t seen any whales. Each year, nearly twenty thousand gray whales migrated up the Oregon coast to Alaska, then down again to the warm lagoons of Baja, Mexico. But late summer wasn’t optimal viewing time, as they’d learned in that blissful half-hour before the wind had picked up.
“I’m fine.” She gripped her elbows and made her way to Jon’s car, waiting for the unlock beep.
“Are you . . . done?” he asked, opening the passenger door for her. What a gentleman.
“Trust me,” she said, “there’s nothing left. Don’t worry. I won’t ralph on the upholstery.”
“It’s you I’m worried about,” he corrected.
Jamie leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Her throat was on fire. “I know. You’re a prince. I’m being a bitch. My mouth tastes like the inside of a Mexican toilet so if you don’t mind, I’ll just lie here and try not to make things worse, okay?”
He started the car, then put on some music, a soothing instrumental melody that made her want to cry. Today hadn’t been about having fun. It had been about punishing Gideon, making him see what he was missing. She deserved this.
But Jonathan didn’t.
“The inside of a Mexican toilet, huh?” There was a smile in his tone.
“Or worse.”
She liked him. He was a perfectly nice guy. Really nice, actually.
“For what it’s worth,” he said, “I had a good time.”
Captain Remmy hadn’t been able to find any whales, but he’d taken them to a variety of reefs, islands, and headland areas where they’d seen seals, sea lions, and birds of all kinds. Jamie had begun to feel ill around the tufted puffin mark. By the pelagic cormorants, she was sitting inside, staring at her hands. But the trip really went downhill when Remmy pointed out a couple of western gulls feeding on some unknown bloated thing bobbing on the water.
“I’m sure you’re a barrel of laughs,” Jamie replied, “on a date with less vomiting.”
“You should see me on a date with no vomiting.” He reached over and patted her arm. “But it’s okay. I can tell you’re not into me.”
She opened her eyes. “What do you mean?”
He turned onto the highway between Bandon and Sunset Bay and hit the gas pedal. “Come on, Jamie. A guy can tell when a girl’s not feeling it.”
“I’m totally into you.” She braced her hand against the door as they rounded a curve. “Don’t take the nausea personally.”
“It’s hard not to.” He laughed. “But don’t worry, I’m okay with friendship.”
“Thanks.” He and Gideon could start a club. The Friends of Jamie Club.
They went over a bump in the road, and her stomach lurched again. Jonathan seemed to consider the speed l
imit more of a guideline than an actual law.
“You’re good company,” Jonathan said. “I can see why Dad likes you.”
She pressed her left foot against the imaginary brake pedal. “You’re delusional.”
“Nope.” He threw her a quick smile. “He talks about you. That’s a dead giveaway. I mean, he’s complaining, don’t get me wrong; after you showed up, I couldn’t do anything right, especially with the dog. It’s a real pain in the ass. What’s with you and the cowboy?”
She jerked her head at the subject change. “Gideon? What do you mean?”
He arched his eyebrows. “Come on. While you were in the barn, he was practically frothing at the mouth that you were going out with me.”
“I doubt that.” But her pulse spiked anyway, sending a warm glow down her forearms. She’d wanted him to notice her as a woman. Maybe he had.
Then the warmth faded and she broke out in gooseflesh. How the hell was it any business of his who she went out with? Or when? Or what she did? If he wanted to stay in the friend zone, then he could stay the hell out of her fun zone. Not that anyone else was going there but still. It was the principle of the thing.
“Oh, ho,” Jonathan said, peering at her over the top of his sunglasses. “Touched a nerve, did I?”
Jamie blew a raspberry. “Nerve, schmerve. He’s an asshat.”
“Sorry to hear it. You deserve better.”
His kindness sent a wave of disappointment and sadness over her, surprising her with its strength. She turned to the window, hugging her elbows. She wasn’t being fair to Gideon. She wished she could stay mad at him, but he was just a guy who’d lost too much and was afraid to lose more and didn’t want to hurt anyone, and was too blind to see that he was biting off his nose to spite his face.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” She cleared her throat. “You see, I’m something of an asshat, myself.”
“Asshattery aside,” Jonathan said, “I like you. You’re a nice person.”
“As a judge of character,” she said, her voice still hoarse, “you suck.”
But his words brought tears back to her eyes. Why, oh why couldn’t she fall in love with someone simple? Jonathan was handsome. He was kind, as evidenced by the way he looked after Roman. He was pleasant and a good conversationalist and easygoing. He liked her.
But when she was with Gideon, she felt lit up on the inside, like the sheer fact of his presence made her better, stronger, faster, more than she’d been before he entered the room. And not just that, but safe.
Though she wasn’t safe with him, was she? She was the exact opposite of safe. He had the ability to hurt her like no one ever had. She’d put her heart in his hands, and he’d gently but firmly given it back. Now it lay inside her, throbbing and raw, like a hermit crab in need of a shell might lie in the hot sun, while gulls wheeled and dove overhead.
“It’s none of my business, but”—Jonathan leaned toward her as he took another corner far too fast—“men can be stupid. Are you sure he knows how you feel?”
How much clearer could she be? She wasn’t exactly the mysterious sort, and she didn’t play games.
“I’m sure.” Jamie pressed her foot against the floor, hard. “Listen, Mario Andretti, we’re about to take flight here. I’d like to make it home alive, if it’s all the same to you.”
Chapter Twenty
The Sun and Mars are in perfect sync. Now’s the
time to make your dreams come true.
—Gideon’s horoscope
After a week that passed with both blinding speed and agonizing slowness, Saturday arrived. Gideon gave up trying to sleep at 4 AM, made coffee in his cabin, cleaned up yet again, fed the horses, then went to the tack room to work on the saddle for Jamie.
He worked carefully, loving the idea of taking something so old and worn and bringing it back to life. The dry, cracked leather drank in the restoring compound, turning supple and bright again beneath his cloth. A couple of rivets needed replacing, as well as the wool under the padded seat, but he knew a professional in town who could do this. He hoped that, when they were finished, the saddle would be revived for many more years of riding.
He swiped leather cream over a rough area on the pommel, wishing everything could be fixed so easily. Unfortunately, he had no idea what Blake needed from him. Worse was the fear, barely acknowledged within himself, that his insistence on rejoining his son’s life was creating damage where none had been.
Something crunched beneath his palm and he dropped the cloth.
“Damn it.” A flake of leather peeled off, like sunburned flesh, ruined by his thoughtless distraction.
And Jamie was dating Jonathan.
What did he expect? He’d pushed her away, after all. He knew how she felt about him, felt an answering attraction, and denied it, for them both.
He should be grateful. Jon seemed like a nice guy.
Another layer of skin cracked open.
Gideon threw down the cloth in disgust and checked the time. He might as well go back to his cabin and take a nap. He wasn’t doing anyone any good out here.
But he only lay there, dry-eyed and nerve-wracked, until it was time to sit on the front porch and wait for Lana and Blake to arrive.
When he finally heard the sound of tires on gravel, however, and saw the face of the driver, he got to his feet in surprise, a knife twisting in his gut.
The man got out, eyeing him cautiously. “Gideon.”
To see the man who’d been raising Blake in Gideon’s place, the man who’d clumsily attempted to investigate him, sent his hackles rising.
But really, would it have been less bad if she’d dropped Blake off herself? Not likely. This first meeting was always going to be difficult, no matter how it happened.
“Hudson.”
“Let’s make this as painless as possible, okay?” Hudson’s voice was gruff.
“Of course.” He managed to keep his tone even, but a muscle he couldn’t control twitched beneath his eye. He forced his shoulders down and the corners of his mouth up, not wanting to frighten his son.
Hudson went to the backseat and began unbuckling what appeared to be a complicated collection of straps.
A car seat, Gideon realized, with a stab. He hadn’t realized six-year-olds needed them. He’d have to get his truck fitted with one.
Hudson helped Blake out, set him on the ground in front of the car, and straightened up, one hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“Hey, Blake.” Gideon took a step forward and put out his hand. His throat felt like it was coated with sawdust. “I’m very pleased to meet you.”
Hudson nudged him gently.
“Hi.” Blake blinked up at Gideon, his voice small and high and wavering, his small hand clutching Hudson’s pant leg.
“Okay.” Hudson exhaled sharply. “I’ll be in town, waiting for your call. Have . . . fun.”
He got into the car and drove off quickly, as if afraid the boy would come racing after him.
But he didn’t. Blake stood motionless, watching as the vehicle left the yard, little swirls of dust settling on his sneakers. He gripped the backpack tight in his little fists, as if it alone held the power to protect him in this vast, unknown, and dangerous environment.
Gideon searched for words and came up empty, waiting for some genetic component to kick in that would tell him what to do and how to do it, what this child needed from him, the words that would unlock some latent bond.
“I wanna go home.” Now the small, high voice wavered with tears.
“Hey, now. It’ll be fine.” Gideon patted his son’s shoulder, thin beneath the plain T-shirt. Shouldn’t he be meatier at this age? “You’re going to love this place.”
Blake shifted away. Gideon removed his hand and shoved it deep into his pocket, his fingers tingling as if they’d been burned.
Minutes ticked by as if attached to a bomb, the sough of the wind deafening, the endless space between man and boy a yawning echo of nothingness.
>
Do something, he commanded himself. This was what he’d fought for, after all. This was what he’d been battling Lana for, a chance to be a father, to show their son that there was another whole side to his life.
But the tension in the small body beside him held Gideon captive, paralyzed, terrified to do the wrong thing, incapable of remembering the words he’d practiced, the tones and touches he’d intended.
He’d ruin this. Blake would tell Lana he never wanted to come back, and would Gideon have the strength to insist, despite his son’s tears? Was this an end that justified the means? He didn’t want Blake to hate him. But if he forced the issue, isn’t that what he’d be asking for?
Blake’s big shining eyes met Gideon’s. He blinked, terrifying in his vulnerability. “I wanna go home.” It was a whisper this time.
Gideon felt his heart flop over in his chest. Ah, hell. What was he doing?
He should have arranged someone else to meet Blake with him. He suspected the boy would be more comfortable if a woman was around, but he’d been afraid of overwhelming the boy with too many new faces. He’d told everyone, in no uncertain terms, to stay away.
What had he been thinking?
“How about I show you around?” He cleared his throat. “Do you like horses?”
All kids liked horses, right?
“I don’t know. I told you.”
“Right.” He took Blake’s small hand in his, and this time the boy did not pull away. “I ride one called Rosie. She’s very friendly. She’ll take carrots from your hand. And we’ve got one called Apollo too. He’s very old.”
The boy walked beside him without speaking, taking two quick strides for every one of Gideon’s. He forced himself to slow down.
“When’s Mommy coming back?”
Gideon made himself smile, then let his face relax again. No point faking things. The kid would come around. It would just take time. “After supper.”
“Oh.”
It took forever to walk to the stables. He hadn’t appreciated how large the yard was. But silence had a way of enlarging the smallest spaces until they felt like the Grand Canyon.
Several dogs were out in the yard including Jewel, Chaos, and the new poodle. Chaos and the poodle immediately ran up to the fence, leaping and barking, with the older dog following at a more sedate pace.
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