“Wow.” Lucy laughed shortly and slanted Jillian an apologetic glance. “That got grim fast. Sorry. Didn’t mean to unload all of that on you.”
“Don’t apologize.” She shook her head. “One of these days, I’ll tell you my own sad stories and then we’ll be even.”
“Deal.” Lucy’s smile was wide and bright.
“I’m curious though,” she said, shifting her gaze back to the man in the corral. “How did that accident affect Jesse?”
“It was bad for a long time,” Lucy admitted. “He blamed himself. Still does, I think, in spite of how often I tell him there’s no blame to be handed out.”
Jillian thought Lucy was probably right. There was a darkness in Jesse’s eyes; shadows that seemed to never lift. “What happened to the horse?”
“Oh, Jesse trained him. After that day, the stallion seemed to settle down. He went home a different animal.”
Of course Jesse kept training the horse. He wasn’t the kind of man to walk away from a job half-done, no matter the pain that surrounded the task. Funny that Jillian felt she knew Jesse so well after knowing him such a short time.
“Anyway, different subject entirely.” Lucy turned to her and waited until Jillian was looking into her eyes to continue. “I actually came out here to tell you that I talked to Ginger at the day care—she forgot to get your cell number earlier—and she wants to know if you can start working on Monday.”
Stunned, Jillian only stared at her. “Don’t I have to be background-checked or...something?”
Tipping her head to one side, Lucy said softly, “Sweetie, when you showed up here claiming Will was Mac’s father, every one of the Sanders lawyers went over your background with a dozen combs each.”
“Oh.” She swallowed hard. “Fabulous.”
“I let Ginger know that everything had been checked already and that you’re good.” Lucy shrugged. “Told her if she had any specific questions, she should contact one of our lawyers. But the Sanders word goes a long way here.”
Jillian wondered if the lawyers had enjoyed what they’d found? Silently, she ticked through her personal history. Father left the family when Jillian was a kid. Mother left two years later. Grandma Rhonda raised Jillian, taught her how to cook, instilled in her how to be loyal and strong and other lessons Rhonda’s own daughter had never learned.
At nineteen, Jillian was engaged briefly to a rodeo cowboy who left because he decided he wasn’t made to be a family man. Showgirl at a casino on the strip, then she met Will Sanders—or, she reminded herself, a reasonable facsimile—and he left her life without a backward glance.
Only this time, the man walking away from her had left her with something precious. Her daughter, Mac. And for that, she’d always be grateful to...whoever he was.
She wasn’t a thief, had never been arrested or even gotten so much as a speeding ticket. But still, it wasn’t much of a résumé.
“Stop looking so stricken.” Lucy’s elbow nudged Jillian’s arm. “Ginger hired you, right?”
“True,” she said, nodding to herself. Apparently, making bad choices and having every man you ever cared anything for walk out on you wasn’t enough to keep her from getting the job. And that was what mattered, right?
If the people in Royal found out about her past, it shouldn’t count at all. Because Jillian’s past wasn’t going to define her. It was her present she had to think about. And the future she was going to build. For herself. For Mac. And nobody was going to stop her.
“So, now that you’re employed—”
And didn’t that sound good?
“—let’s talk about your apartment. Jesse tells me you’re thinking of painting,” Lucy said.
“Oh, absolutely.” She grinned and sent another look at Mac, still laughing and squealing atop Ivy as Jesse walked them around the perimeter of the corral. Sighing, she added, “Beige walls are just so...boring.”
“Agreed. Do you want some help?”
Jillian looked at the other woman and smiled. It was good to have a friend again. Good to feel like she was already carving a place for herself into Royal. “I really would.”
“Great. Let’s get Mac and hit the hardware store.” Lucy’s eyes were gleaming as she scrubbed her hands together in anticipation. “Oooh. Even better, we could leave Mac and Brody with Mom and not have to ride herd on kids in the paint department.”
Thinking of Mac’s adventurous nature and all the possibilities for getting into trouble in a hardware store gave Jillian cold chills. And yet. “Oh, I couldn’t...”
“Sure you can.” Lucy turned toward her brother. “Hey, Jesse, when you finish Mac’s ride will you take her over to Mom’s?”
“Not a problem,” he said, never taking his eyes off the little girl in his charge.
That should make Jillian feel better. But leaving Mac behind with Cora again seemed like an imposition. She’d already watched Mac for a couple hours earlier today so Jillian could take the interview.
“Don’t back out,” Lucy said and tugged at Jillian’s arm to get her moving. “If we get the paint right away, we can go by the Courtyard and check out the shops for furniture.”
True, she’d have to buy a few things, anyway, but she didn’t want to spend a lot of the money she had put away. Jillian had other plans for that. “No, I don’t think I’ll...”
“They have the cutest little consignment shop there. You’ll love it. And oh, I’ll look for a new desk for Brody. He’s getting so big, I swear. He’s going to kindergarten next year, can you believe it?” Lucy kept up a steady stream of conversation as she simply dragged Jillian in her wake all the way to a shiny red truck. Apparently, she was determined to not give Jillian a chance to change her mind.
Then she opened the passenger door and said, “Oh, when we’re finished shopping, we can stop at the Sweets and Treats, bring Mom some of the fruit tarts they sell there. They’re her favorite and it’s the perfect way of saying thanks.”
Jillian stopped dead and narrowed her eyes on Lucy. The innocence stamped on the woman’s features didn’t fool Jillian one bit. “That was pretty slick, telling me how to thank your mother for doing me a favor I didn’t ask her to do.”
Lucy’s head tipped to one side and she grinned. “Wasn’t it? Oh, come on. Admit it. You know you want to.”
Jillian looked back over her shoulder to where her daughter was being swung up into the arms of a tall, gorgeous cowboy. Oh, what she was feeling for Jesse was dangerous. Especially because just for a second, she was envious of her baby girl.
Not a good sign.
Leaving was definitely the right thing to do.
Four
“Jillian’s a lovely girl...”
Every instinct Jesse possessed went on high alert as he shot a wary look at his mother. Cora Lee was a strong woman who’d held her family together no matter what had come at them. She’d survived the loss of two husbands and had raised her three children while single-handedly running one of the biggest ranches in Texas until he and Will had come of age to take over.
Over the years, she hadn’t slowed down much, either. She didn’t run the ranch or the business end of the Sanders company anymore, but she kept up with what was happening both on the ranch and in Royal. Cora Lee wasn’t a woman to sit back and watch life go by—she jumped in and did whatever the hell she wanted or needed to do. She’d never once in her life thought that being a woman somehow made her “less”—and she hadn’t let anyone else believe it, either. She was strong, confident and impossible to ignore because she simply refused to allow her children to duck her interference.
She kept her fingers on the pulse of Royal, always knowing what was going on and why. Just as she somehow always seemed to know what her grown kids were up to. Jesse, Will and Lucy were her life and she didn’t mind one little bit sticking her nose in if she thought any of them needed
her “help.”
“Yeah, she is,” he said in as noncommittal a way as he could manage. Damn. Jesse’d thought that with Will back, their mother would be more focused on him. It seemed Cora Lee was the queen of multitasking.
“She’s had a hard life,” his mom mused thoughtfully.
“Imagine so.” He hadn’t looked at the background records the lawyers had dug up on Jillian. It had been enough for Jesse that they’d told him she’d checked out and wasn’t trying to pull a fast one. Apparently, though, his mother had read the file.
Jesse took a gulp of coffee and told himself to run for it. He could take most anything and stand his ground. Hell, he’d faced flash floods and lightning storms on the open land without blinking. But when his mother started in on him, it was smarter to bolt.
Decision made, he set the screwdriver he still held down on the counter. “Thanks for the coffee. I think that cupboard door’s good now, but if the hinge comes loose again, let me know.”
“You’re not fooling me, you know,” Cora Lee said softly. “I know a grown man trying to hide from his mother when I see one.”
Well, that stopped him. Shooting her a look over his shoulder, he asked wryly, “Can you really blame me?”
Cora Lee considered that for a second or two, then smiled. “I guess not. Fine. You can relax. I won’t say another word about Jillian.”
“Thanks.”
“For now.”
He rolled his eyes. Jesse was beginning to suspect there’d been nothing wrong with the damn cabinet he’d just spent fifteen minutes fixing in the first place. His mother had probably loosened the hinge so she’d have an excuse to trap him in her kitchen.
Her cottage was quiet. The kids were gone, Brody with his mother to the main house and Mac with Jillian back to their new prison cell. He scowled at the thought. Still didn’t like the idea of them living in that tiny, lifeless place, but the woman was as stubborn as she was beautiful.
His mind dredged up the image of Jillian laughing with Lucy when they came back from their spur-of-the-moment shopping trip. She’d looked...relaxed, like her guard was down, and a hot fist of need had grabbed Jesse by the balls and hadn’t let go yet.
He didn’t like his reactions to Jillian but hadn’t been able to control them yet, either. It seemed that woman had the ability to turn him inside out just by looking at him. So, the last thing he needed was his mother’s well-meant but unnecessary advice or opinion. Hell, he liked his life just fine the way it was. He wasn’t looking for a family. He already had a family and a kid he would always be responsible for because Brody’s father had died under Jesse’s watch. So yeah. No changes to his life needed. When he wanted a woman he went out and got one. Drinks, dinner and sex filled out a single evening and then he was back to his real world. This ranch. His family.
What with Will coming back from the dead, Lucy a widow and Brody fatherless, he didn’t need one more damn thing to think about. No more drama.
He opened the back door to leave, but stopped when his mother spoke up again. “Jesse.”
The speculative, my-son-needs-a-wife gleam in her eyes had been replaced by a glimmer of the concern and worry etched into her features. “I need you to talk to Will.”
He hadn’t been expecting that. “About what?”
She dropped into a kitchen chair and held a thick white mug of coffee cupped between her palms. “About how he has to keep a low profile until the police and the FBI say he can come out of the shadows and get back to his life. About how he can’t go off roaming into Royal like he tried to do just an hour ago.”
Jesse’s eyes went wide, and he shot a hard look at the main house behind him before looking back to his mother. “He can’t go into town. What’s he thinking? We already told him he’s got to stay here on the ranch until things are figured out.”
“Yes, I know.” Her eyebrows arched. “I was there.”
Sighing, he nodded. “Yes ma’am.”
But Cora Lee wasn’t finished. “Will’s going stir-crazy I think. All he can talk about is getting out there and hunting down Richard Lowell himself. Will wants to reclaim his life.”
Still furious, Jesse thought about Rich, a man who had duped them all. It was Will himself who’d figured out who the impostor was. When he heard that the man had claimed Rich had died in the boating accident, he’d known it was Rich himself who had stolen his life. Who but Will and Rich would have known the details? Now they were all trapped in this helplessness.
Jesse couldn’t blame his younger brother for wanting to do something. Anything. He could understand the frustration and the fury. Hell, he shared it. Richard Lowell. Hard to believe that he was the man who’d impersonated Will for so long.
Rich and Will had met at college and become friends, but apparently that hadn’t been enough for Rich. The man had been so eaten up by envy or whatever the hell it was that psychos got eaten up by, that eventually, he’d tried to kill Will and take over his life. And he’d come damn close to pulling it off forever.
“I know how Will feels,” Jesse muttered. “I’d like to find that bastard—excuse me—too and let him know what a world of hurt really feels like.”
“You think I don’t?” Cora Lee’s features were frozen into a mask of ice and steel. “Richard Lowell almost killed one of my sons. Stole from us. Used us. If I had him here in front of me right now, I can’t say that I wouldn’t reach back into time for a little frontier justice.”
Jesse smiled grimly as he nodded in agreement. “But we can’t. Will can’t. Not yet anyway and he’s just going to have to suck it up. Hell, for all we know, Rich is in that damn urn.”
But even as he said it, Jesse hoped that wasn’t true. He really wanted to make Rich Lowell pay for hurting his family.
“Agreed,” Cora Lee snapped, taking a sip of her black coffee. “And it’s pretty much what I told him an hour ago. Would have had better luck talking to a boulder. Maybe it’d help if you tell him.”
“I can do that.” Jesse left his mother’s cottage and started for the main house. Moonlight lit his way, but he didn’t need it. He could have found his way over any part of this ranch blindfolded. Jesse knew every stone, every tree, every damn speck of dirt on this land as well as he knew his own bedroom. It was his home. His life.
Already wired way too tight, Jesse felt like he was walking a fine line of control. Which meant he was in the perfect mood for a confrontation with his little brother.
* * *
Jillian glanced at baby Mac and smiled. The little girl had her very own paintbrush and was applying fresh green paint to the wall—though she was getting more on herself. What her daughter lacked in talent she made up for in enthusiasm.
Silly to start painting tonight and Jillian knew it. But she hadn’t been able to stand it.
“Just one wall,” she told herself. She’d do the rest of the work tomorrow, but for tonight, she really wanted to see how the color would look on the boring beige walls.
Already, the apartment was taking on a different look. Of course that had a lot to do with the things Jillian had found while out shopping with Lucy. Not that she was spending tons of money—she’d found a few great items at the consignment shop and then had splurged at a discount store and bought a few pots and pans and a four-piece set of dishes, along with a new crib for Mac. Everything else they needed, Jillian figured she would buy a little at a time.
“The important thing here is,” she said to Mac, “I have a job, we have a home and some wonderful new friends. Isn’t that right, baby girl?”
Mac whipped her head around to look at her mother. A stray splash of green paint swiped across her little cheek and her green eyes danced with joy. “Jesse? And horsies?”
Jillian swallowed hard and told herself to distract her daughter. “And your friend Brody, remember?”
“Jesse!” Mac crowed the word and dr
agged her paintbrush against the wall again.
It looked like Jillian wasn’t the only one in the family who was a little obsessed with Jesse Navarro. Now, she told herself, she had two hearts to protect.
Sighing, she set her brush down, walked to her daughter and swept the girl up into her arms. Staring into that beautiful little face, Jillian said, “Let’s get you ready for sleep in your new bed, okay?”
Mac tipped her head to one side, her wispy blond hair waving with the movement. Touching her mother’s cheek with her little hand, she smiled. “Jesse?”
“No, no Jesse tonight,” Jillian answered and felt horrible when Mac’s tiny mouth moved into a pout with a quivering bottom lip.
“Want Jesse.” Mac’s head dropped to her mother’s shoulder in disappointment.
“Me, too, baby,” Jillian whispered. “That’s the problem.”
* * *
Inside the main house, Jesse stalked across the entryway into the great room and stopped on the threshold, taking a long look at the familiar room.
Cora Lee had decorated this room as a family gathering place, so she’d made sure it was comfortable, welcoming and able to withstand dirty cowboy boots.
The overstuffed furniture, covered in dark red, deep blue and forest green fabrics, boasted deep, soft cushions. Hand-carved oak tables held books, magazines and a few of Brody’s toys. Brass lamps with Tiffany glass shades threw puddles of golden light on the floor and the shadow of color on the walls. A man-height stone fireplace took up one wall and on the opposite side of the room a gigantic flat-screen TV took up most of the wall space. There were couches and chairs scattered all around the room, just waiting for a crowd to drop by and settle in.
Framed family photos dotted the tables and the walls, and colorful, braided rugs spread across the wood floor. There were bookshelves ringing the wide room and two cushioned window seats that during the day provided a wide view of the ranch yard. Tucked into one corner of the room was a bar where crystal decanters filled with whiskey, brandy and vodka glinted in the light. The hearth was empty and cold—about how his insides felt.
Rich Rancher's Redemption Page 5
