She and Holly parted at the door. Their cars were parked facing opposite directions. Holly was headed out of Forever to the ranch where she lived with her husband, her niece and her mother, while Debi had a far shorter drive to the hotel.
When she drew closer to her dusty car, Debi saw that there was someone leaning against the hood, his arms folded before his chest.
The arms gave him away. Standing like that, he looked more like a fierce warrior than a teacher schooled in brokering a peaceful coexistence between the teens sent to his ranch.
“Jackson?” she asked, almost hoping that it wasn’t. If he was here, waiting for her, that meant that something had gone wrong with Ryan. That was the way she thought these days—because she was usually right. “Did something happen to Ryan?”
Jackson straightened up. “Other than learning that he can’t have his way, no, nothing happened.”
She didn’t understand. “Then why are you here?”
“I just came by to see how you survived your first day at the clinic,” he explained amicably.
It was a perfectly plausible excuse for his being here. Why she suddenly felt butterflies fluttering in her stomach was something she didn’t feel she could explore. Not safely, anyway.
Chapter Nine
The next moment she looked at Jackson warily, not certain if she really believed his initial disclaimer. Maybe he was just trying to break something to her gently because he thought she might be the type to come unglued if something bad happened, like Ryan taking off without warning.
“And you’re sure that this doesn’t have anything to do with Ryan?” she asked, watching him carefully.
“Well, you wouldn’t be here in Forever if it wasn’t because of Ryan, so in a way it is related to Ryan—but only in the loosest sense of the meaning.” By now, he was pretty aware of the way a parent’s mind worked and the kinds of concerns that sprang to their minds. “If you’re asking me if he’s run off or done something to get thrown off the program—”
“Has he?” she asked almost breathlessly.
God, but her eyes were green. They had opened so wide, he felt as if he could just fall into them and then try to wade his way back to shore.
The next moment, Jackson upbraided himself sternly. Get a grip, he chided himself silently. Remember your place. She’s the sister of one of your charges. That means keep your distance.
Doing anything else, he knew, would just be asking for trouble.
“No,” he answered Debi quietly. “I left your brother on the ranch with the other ranch hands.”
“Who’s watching him?” she asked.
She knew Ryan. He could take off at a moment’s notice—although where he could go in an area that had nothing to offer for miles in any direction was beyond her. But if Ryan felt wronged and was angry enough, he wouldn’t think things through that far.
He’d just go.
“The other ranch hands,” Jackson repeated. He sounded as calm as she was panicked. “They watch out for one another.”
“Are you crazy?” Debi demanded, stunned. “They’re all teenage boys. Having them watch each other, that’s like throwing a match into a factory that makes fireworks.”
“I’d give them a little more credit than that,” he told her. For the most part, the teens had earned his complete trust. “Relax. I also left Garrett with them.”
“Oh.” She breathed a huge sigh of relief. “That’s better.”
He watched her, debating whether or not to point out the obvious. He decided that it was worth it—for her own good. “If the ranch hands were as bent on running away as you think, Garrett wouldn’t be able to stop them. The odds would be against him.”
From what little she’d seen, Garrett seemed as if he could handle himself. But Jackson, in her estimation, looked to be even better equipped to cope with the boys. “But not against you,” she guessed.
“Fortunately for us, nobody’s ever tested that theory. And right now, after the day they’ve all put in, I’d say they’re all too tired to lift their feet, much less make a break for it.”
She could certainly relate to that, Debi thought.
“In any case, I didn’t come to talk about the ranch,” he reminded her. “How did it go?”
Debi turned so that she could see the darkened clinic from where she stood. It looked deceptively quiet—now. “It went,” she remarked. “Someone said that the clinic hasn’t been here all that long.”
“It hasn’t,” Jackson confirmed.
“Where did the doctors practice, then?”
“They didn’t,” he told her. He liked the way surprise added a touch of innocence to Debi’s face. “Dr. Dan came out here a few years ago. Something about taking his brother’s place because his brother was supposed to come here but died in a car accident the night before he was supposed to leave.” He paused for a moment to think. “Lady Doc’s only been here less than a year.”
“Lady Doc?”
“That’s what her husband, Brett, called her the first time he met her. It kinda stuck,” Jackson explained. “Holly’s the only native from around here,” he said, referring to the lone nurse.
Debi was still having trouble processing what he’d told her to begin with. “If neither of the doctors have been here all that long, what did the people do before that?”
“Well, they either drove the fifty miles to Pine Ridge, or they toughed it out. You hungry?”
The man changed topics fast enough to give her whiplash. She didn’t answer his question one way or the other. Instead, she gave him a rather neutral reply. “I thought I’d just grab something at the hotel.”
In some ways, the hotel was still evolving. The actual structure had been completed months ago. However, some of the extras that Connie Carmichael-Murphy had envisioned had yet to become a reality.
“Unless you were planning to chew on a pillow,” Jackson said, “you’re out of luck.”
Debi stared at him quizzically. “Why’s that?”
“Well, the hotel’s a work in progress and they haven’t gotten around to building a restaurant inside. Everyone kind of feels that would be an insult to Miss Joan.”
“Why’s that?”
“Right now, the diner’s the only place anyone can get a meal.”
“Are you sure? I thought I saw this other place.” She thought for a moment, remembering a bright neon light forming a name. “Murphy’s, I think the sign said.” She’d caught a fleeting glimpse of the place. It looked more like a tavern than a restaurant, but to the best of her knowledge, taverns served food.
“Murphy’s is the local saloon,” Jackson told her. “The Murphy boys have got a standing agreement with Miss Joan. She doesn’t serve beer or any other kind of liquor in her place of business and they don’t serve food—other than the standard peanuts at the bar.”
“And the hotel really doesn’t serve anything?” she asked incredulously. She hadn’t bothered to check it out last night when she’d registered, and as for this morning, with her stomach all tied up in knots, the thought of breakfast had just made her want to throw up.
After having put in a very long day, Debi was no longer too nervous to eat, but now her choices were rather limited.
She played devil’s advocate. “And if I don’t want to eat at the diner?” The diner was perfectly acceptable, but the idea that she didn’t have a choice didn’t sit well with her.
Jackson mulled over her question. “You could either drive the fifty miles into Pine Ridge,” he told her, “or go to the local general store and get yourself something to put in between two pieces of bread.” He gave her his advice on the matter, for whatever it was worth. “The diner’s got a better selection and at least the food’ll be hot.”
The thought of something warm hitting her stomach did have
its appeal. She supposed that it wouldn’t hurt to go to the diner again. There was just one thing she was still unclear about.
“Are you offering to come with me?” she asked.
The shrug was completely noncommittal. “Thought you might want to have someone to talk to until you got to know some of the regulars.”
After the day she had just put in, silence was more welcome than conversation, but she didn’t want to seem rude. Jackson was obviously putting himself out for her—besides, if she was standoffish and rude to him, the man might decide to take it out on Ryan.
For a second, she thought about asking him if there were any consequences to turning his offer down, but then decided that doing so just might put the thought into Jackson’s head if it hadn’t occurred to him before.
So she forced a smile to her lips and murmured, “That’s very thoughtful of you.”
And, if she was being strictly honest with herself, sitting at a table across from Jackson White Eagle couldn’t exactly be considered a hardship. The man was exceptionally easy on the eyes.
His facial features were all angles and planes with strong cheekbones. And he was fit, she couldn’t help noting. His arms, even through his work shirt, looked as if they were as hard as rocks.
It was easy to see that the man didn’t just sit back and let the others do the heavy labor. He worked the ranch just as hard as, if not harder than the boys who were in his care.
“My truck’s right over there,” he told her, pointing it out for her benefit. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring you back to your car after dinner.”
“I wasn’t worried,” she protested, secretly wondering how he could possibly know that she had been.
“Sorry, my mistake,” he replied, letting her have her way.
It took less than five minutes to get to Miss Joan’s diner. The entire area around the silver structure was filled with cars. Jackson parked in the first spot he could find.
Debi took in the scene. It looked as if half the cars in Forever were parked near the diner. Business was obviously booming.
“I guess when you’ve got a monopoly, people don’t have much of a choice where they go to eat,” she commented.
“There’s that,” Jackson allowed, although he was fairly convinced that if the cooking was bad, all but the people most inept in the kitchen would choose to remain home. “And Angel’s cooking.”
“Angel?” she asked, curious.
“Angel Rodriguez,” he told her. “That’s one of Miss Joan’s two cooks.” He was fairly convinced the woman could make dirt appetizing. He spared Debi a quick half smile. “She’s from out of town, too. Like you.”
“So people actually come here and stay?” Debi asked in surprise.
Not that she exactly had a wild social life back in Indianapolis, but she was fairly certain that the people in Forever rolled up the streets after ten o’clock.
The entire town struck her as the last word in boring.
Jackson watched her as if he was making a judgment based on what she’d just said. “Hard to believe, but true.”
After exiting the truck, Jackson moved around to her door and opened it before she had a chance to get out on her own.
Debi glanced down at the hand he was extending to her. Taking it, she curled her fingers around it and got out. The hint of a tingling sensation that undulated through her felt oddly arousing and comforting at the same time.
Just her mind playing tricks on her.
“Your mother taught you well,” she commented. When his eyes narrowed, she explained, “Your manners. Your mother did a good job teaching you manners.”
It took effort not to sound bitter. Every so often, the emotion would raise its head unexpectedly, taking a chunk out of him when he least expected it.
“My mother didn’t teach me anything at all,” he corrected.
Her head jerked up just a beat before she realized her mistake.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dig up any painful memories.” Her shoulders rose and fell in a careless, helpless motion. “I have a habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time,” she apologized, shifting uncomfortably.
“Who told you that?” he asked sharply.
Maybe she had picked the right man for the job of turning Ryan around. He certainly could intuit things.
“My ex,” she told him after a beat. “He said I was a verbal klutz.” She could almost hear John’s voice in her head, saying something disapproving. Looking back, she wondered why she hadn’t caught on to John’s subtle self-esteem bashing sooner—before he had done such a number on her.
“I can see why he’s your ex,” Jackson commented. “He didn’t exactly have very much going for him in the flattery department, did he?”
It wasn’t loyalty but a need to not be pitied that had her being defensive. “John liked to call them as he saw them.”
“As he saw them, huh?” Jackson questioned skeptically. “He was obviously myopic so I wouldn’t give a lot of credence to what he said if I were you.”
Debi was going to counter what he had just said to her but she was headed off at the pass and never got the chance.
“Well, look who’s decided to give us another try,” Miss Joan said heartily by way of a greeting as she passed the duo. Personally making the rounds to refill her customers’ coffee mugs, Miss Joan was carrying a pot that was filled to the brim. “Grab a dinner menu,” she instructed Jackson. “I’ll be right with you. Two seats right over there.” Miss Joan pointed to a cozy table for two over in the corner. “Grab them while you can. This time of the evening they’re going fast.”
With that, Miss Joan went to complete her rounds and fill every cup that required filling.
“Are you getting used to her yet?” Jackson asked her as they sat down at the table that Miss Joan had pointed out.
Debi had her doubts that that was possible.
“Does anyone get used to her? Ever?” Debi asked, trying as discreetly as possible to keep observing the redhead while planting herself on the seat that Miss Joan had singled out for them.
“Oh, sure,” Jackson answered. “It’ll happen without you even realizing it. One morning,” he predicted, “you’ll wake up and it’ll seem as if Miss Joan has always been part of your life.”
“I sincerely doubt I’ll live that long,” she replied.
She could protest all she wanted, Jackson thought. He knew better because he’d seen it happen time and again. Miss Joan had a way about her—and a heart of gold. The latter was not on display and only became evident after a sufficient amount of time had gone by and her gruff exterior had faded.
“You’ll see,” Jackson said more to himself than to her.
“Besides, you’re forgetting that I’m only here as long as Ryan’s on your ranch. Once you’ve straightened him out, my brother and I’ll be going back to our old way of life.”
Why was she so eager to get back to the scene of everything that had gone wrong for her? Jackson wondered. “And your old stress triggers.”
“You’re getting ready to tell me that Ryan’s ‘magical cure’ only sticks if he stays here?” she guessed. “That once he leaves, he’ll go back to his old habits?”
Jackson behaved as if he was actually considering her theories. “I suppose it could happen,” Jackson allowed. “But what I’m saying is to be vigilant. When you initially get back, you’ll need to go to great lengths to make sure he avoids whatever it was that set him off and down that path he’d taken.”
“I don’t know all his triggers, but I do know that John was one of them—and that, at least, won’t be an issue anymore.”
“Good.” Why hearing that the man was out of her life had Jackson smiling to himself bothered him—but not enough for him to stop smiling. “But remember, you can’t give up your o
wn life in order for Ryan to have his. And you can’t wrap him up in Bubble Wrap and watch over him 24/7. What you’re shooting for,” Jackson told her, “is to get to a place where you know he’s watching out for himself. That he’s doing the best he can for himself. He needs to grow, Debi.”
She inclined her head. “Sounds good in theory,” she acknowledged.
Jackson offered her his killer smile—at least that was what she had labeled it in her mind.
“Works well in practice, too,” he assured her. “Keep in mind that it just doesn’t happen all at once. It happens slowly, gradually. Baby steps,” he emphasized for her benefit. “If you expect baby steps, then you won’t be disappointed.”
Miss Joan came up to their table, an old-fashioned pad and pencil in her hands. She didn’t like getting away from the basics.
The smile she tendered to Jackson was one filled with affection. “I don’t see you in forever and then you pop up twice in two days. I guess I have Debi to thank for this.” She looked at the young woman and smiled. “Thanks for bringing Jackson around.”
Debi was not one who had ever taken someone else’s credit. “He brought me,” Debi corrected politely.
Miss Joan didn’t miss a beat. “As long as the two of you found each other here, that’s all that really counts for me.”
Debi had the very uneasy feeling that Miss Joan was attempting to communicate something that made precious little sense to her at the outset. The woman made it sound as if they were an item, Debi suddenly realized. Nothing could be further from her mind. For her, relationships—other than the one she had with Ryan—were all toxic. Well, she didn’t have time for toxic, didn’t have the time or the patience to feel her self-esteem being slowly shredded to pieces.
The old Debi wanted to be loved. This new version of her felt that love was unrealistic. The best she could hope for was to be happy if her brother could be saved.
She could live with that.
Chapter Ten
“She means well.”
Debi blinked, suddenly realizing that Jackson must have said something to her, something she was apparently supposed to comment on. She’d been so lost in thought for a moment that all she had heard was a faint buzzing sound around her. She’d just assumed that it was due to the noise level in the diner.
The Cowboy and the Lady Page 10
