“Nothing my eye,” Jackson retorted. He didn’t feel like playing games. “Out with it. You don’t grin like that over nothing,” he maintained.
Jackson had the uneasy feeling that maybe he and Debi hadn’t gone unobserved after all. How long had Garrett been standing there?
Coming all the way into the room, Garrett perched for a moment on the edge of the desk. His brother pointedly looked into his eyes. “I was just beginning to get used to the idea that I was never going to see you attracted to anyone.”
“And you still haven’t,” Jackson replied curtly.
“Okay,” Garrett allowed. “Then I hate to tell you this, Jackson, but you have a perfect clone and he’s alive and well and practically living right on top of you—or at least in your shadow.”
“What are you doing here, anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be out at the corral?”
“I just came in to get a book.” Moving over to the narrow bookcase, he extracted a worn book that had once belonged to their uncle. It contained illustrations of all the different breeds of horses that existed.
“Well, you got it. You can go now,” Jackson told him dismissively. He deliberately looked back down at the reports he was filling out.
“Okay.” Garrett began to take his leave, then turned around for one last word. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s really nice to see a spring in your step. That means—I think—that you’re not selling Ryan on the idea of leaving, say, within the next week.”
“You know better than that,” Jackson replied. “If he stays, it’s because he might need a little more work before he can be put back into the so-called general population—otherwise known as everyday society,” Jackson told his brother. “It’s nothing personal.”
Garrett grinned, something he was far more given to doing than his older brother. “Of course it’s not.”
Rising from behind his desk, Jackson crossed to the open doorway and looked around. There was no one there. This time. Closing the door, he turned his attention back to his brother.
“Garrett, you know we both take this job seriously. If someone had just overheard your tone, they might take things the wrong way and that just might undermine all the good we’re doing here.”
Garrett dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. “All anyone has to do is call on any one of the ‘ranch hands’ who got through this ‘course.’ They’ll see the good you’ve done.”
“We’ve done,” Jackson corrected him.
But Garrett shook his head. “I was right the first time. I’m just following your lead, big brother. You’re the one who decided to do this after Sam died. I guess everything happens for a reason,” he continued. “If you hadn’t been such a big screw-up, Mom wouldn’t have called on Sam to come help her and we would have never inherited this ranch.”
Jackson sincerely doubted that. “He had no next of kin, remember?”
“He had Dad,” his brother reminded him, his own smile fading.
Neither one of them had good memories of the man even before he’d walked out on them. “That’s taking it for granted that our illustrious father is still alive somewhere. Just between you and me, I don’t think his kidneys could have held on for very long. The man went through booze like other people go through water.”
Garrett didn’t realize that he’d winced. “He was a mean drunk.”
Jackson laughed shortly. His eyes were somber. “He wasn’t exactly a walk in the park when he was sober, either,” he recalled. Years ago he’d come to the conclusion that in their case, they were far better off with an absentee father than living under the same roof with someone who was volatile, unpredictable and lashed out with his fists without any warning.
Garrett nodded. Opening the door, he started to go when something occurred to him. “Oh, and Jackson?”
He was never going to finish wading through this annoying paperwork, he thought, looking up. “Yeah?”
“She’s a honey. The girl I saw you lip-locking with. Ryan’s sister, right?” he recalled, although her name escaped him at the moment. “She’s a honey.”
Jackson blew out a breath. Served him right for giving in to a flash of desire. “Spare me the fifty-cent analysis and get back to work like the helpful brother you’re not being.”
“I’ll get right on it,” Garrett said perhaps a bit too quickly in his estimation. “Oh, and when the big day comes—”
“What big day?” Jackson demanded, confused. What was Garrett babbling about?
“The big day,” Garrett repeated with more emphasis. The look he gave his brother clearly said that he should know what the reference was regarding. “Just remember, I get dibs on best man.”
“If I find a best man,” Jackson deadpanned, putting a literal meaning to his brother’s words, “I’ll be sure to send him along to you.”
He ducked his head as Garrett threw the book he’d come for at him.
Chapter Thirteen
“Hey Debs, I bet you never thought you’d ever see me doing this!” Ryan called out to her in a loud voice.
Debi’s heart swelled. He sounded excited, just the way he used to before that horrendous car accident had changed everything.
She silently blessed Jackson before she even turned toward the sound of Ryan’s voice. Any change for the better with Ryan was because of him and the man had earned her undying gratitude.
Another two weeks had passed.
Two weeks during which time she drove into town in the morning and back to the ranch at the end of her day. Two weeks of a routine that she was surprised to discover herself liking more and more.
Who would have ever thought that was possible? Certainly not her.
Another surprise was that she was becoming entrenched in this low-key town life. Her transformation was happening so easily, so effortlessly, it all but took her breath away.
Because of the steady and usually heavy traffic of people through the clinic, she was getting acquainted with a great many of Forever’s citizens. Some of whom had taken to bringing her things—cookies, fudge, a crocheted poncho—to either say thank-you to her, or in some cases “welcome to Forever.”
To the latter group, she tried to gently but tactfully explain that she wasn’t planning on staying, but they would look at her with knowing looks and just smile. Eventually, she gave up. They would realize the truth once she was gone, she decided.
She had no idea why that thought brought a strange tinge of sorrow with it.
And following her routine, when she came home at night—and The Healing Ranch had become home to her—she became part of that life, as well.
Maybe even more so.
The teenagers in Jackson and Garrett’s care ate dinner at the house every night and Jackson made sure that there was always a place set for her.
The first night she’d come to the ranch, thinking that she would just quietly slip in and go to the room he’d set aside for her, Jackson had derailed her plan. He’d been waiting for her on the front porch. The moment she’d arrived, Jackson had taken her by the hand and drawn her into the dining room.
“I’m thinking you haven’t had dinner yet,” he had said to her.
Which was when she’d held up the bag she’d picked up on her way back. “I picked up something to go at the diner,” she’d explained.
Jackson had paused to take the bag from her, saying, “It can just ‘go’ to the refrigerator. Don’t worry, it won’t go to waste. You can have it for lunch tomorrow.”
Gesturing toward the empty chair remaining, he’d coaxed, “Why don’t you sit down?”
Even with all those faces turned toward her, watching her intently, Debi was still going to beg off, thinking that she’d feel awkward eating in their midst and that Jackson was only asking her to join them because he felt sorry for her.
&n
bsp; But then she saw that Ryan was sitting just two seats down. He said nothing, but the look in his eyes asked her to stay.
That was enough for her.
Offering Jackson and Garrett a smile, she said, “Okay,” and sank down into the chair.
That had been her first step in becoming part of The Healing Ranch’s daily life.
In an odd way, the ranch did as much healing for her as it was supposed to be doing for all the troubled teens who had been sent here by desperate parents and relatives in hopes of bringing about some kind of miraculous transformation.
Every night she hurried home for dinner a little more quickly than the last, a sense of anticipation spurring her on. Having parked her car a ways from the ranch house, she was quickly walking toward it, passing by the corral on her way.
That was when she heard Ryan calling out to her. Happy that the sullen tone was absent from his voice, she turned to look in his direction. Her mouth dropped open.
She hardly remembered cutting across the rest of the distance. All she was aware of was smiling at him, broadly. Yes, Debi, there is a Santa Claus, she thought to herself. Had Jackson been there, she would have kissed him. The spark was returning into Ryan’s eyes.
“You’re right about that,” she answered. Ryan was sitting in a saddle, astride a beautiful palomino. “You look like a natural,” she told him.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Garrett and Alan, the teen who Jackson had taken into his home, were both mounted on their horses, as well, and though they were good at masking what they were about, they were both paying very close attention to her brother.
“Wanna see me jump Jericho?” Ryan asked her eagerly, his body language indicating that he was all set to act on his offer.
“Isn’t it almost dinnertime?” she asked, avoiding commenting directly on her brother’s question. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”
“She’s right, Ry,” Garrett told him. “Time to put our horses away.”
Ryan appeared somewhat crestfallen, and she fully expected him to argue with Garrett. When he didn’t, she was stunned.
Progress! Debi thought triumphantly. Three weeks ago, her brother would have argued, hurled curse words and pouted until he got Garrett to give in—or, more likely, was sent to the bunkhouse without dinner. This new, respectful Ryan restored her hope for the future.
Maybe by the time this was all over, she would have the old Ryan back. Permanently.
It was something to hope for.
“Someone certainly looks like she’s happy,” Jackson commented. Entering the living room, he caught the look on her face as she walked into the house.
The word happy didn’t even begin to cover the way she felt. Seeing Ryan behaving like his old self filled her with a euphoric high that was almost dizzying.
Before she could think through her next action, Debi crossed over to the man she held responsible for her brother’s metamorphosis, braced her hands on his shoulders, raised herself up on her toes and brushed her lips against his cheek. “Someone is very happy,” she told him.
The feel of her lips fleetingly brushing against his skin stirred an entire cauldron of dormant emotions that were simmering just beneath the surface, awakening a longing within him that he hadn’t even known was there. It took effort to stop himself from just taking her into his arms and kissing her back.
Really kissing her.
He did his best to hide his feelings as he asked, “Good day at the clinic?”
“The day at the clinic was good,” she confirmed, then added, “But this evening at the ranch is positively great.” When Jackson cocked his head slightly as if waiting for an explanation, she filled in the blanks. “I just saw Ryan riding his horse. He looked happier than I’ve seen him in a long, long time.” She blinked back tears of joy. She’d all but given up hope that Ryan could be reached this way. “When did he learn how to ride?”
“It’s an ongoing thing,” Jackson told her matter-of-factly. “I mean, what’s the point in having a horse if you can’t ride it, right?” He paused, as if deciding whether or not to say anything. And then he did. “You’re crying. Are you upset?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m happy.”
Digging into his back pocket, he took out a handkerchief and offered it to her. “I’ll never understand women,” he freely confessed.
She wiped away the tearstains on her cheeks, then handed the handkerchief back to him.
“This is like a miracle. Ryan never showed much interest in animals. Never begged for a pet dog or anything like that. Now it looks like your brother’s going to have to all but peel him out of the saddle.” She glanced over her shoulder toward where the corral would have been if there was no ranch house separating her from the view. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, thinking. “Maybe Garrett needs my help.” Saying that, she did an about-face in the living room, and began heading for the front door.
Jackson caught up to her in two strides and took hold of her arm, stopping her. “Stop worrying,” he told her. “Garrett knows how to handle the situation. Ryan will be okay.”
“I’m not worried about Ryan, I’m concerned about Garrett,” she confessed.
That amused him, given that his brother was six-one with a body built by ranching and her brother was around five-ten and might tip the scales at one thirty-five if he carried rocks in his pockets.
“My brother hasn’t met a boy he couldn’t get along with. Stop worrying,” Jackson repeated. “Go back to being happy,” he coaxed. “It looks good on you.”
Jackson was right, she thought. She had to back away and let things play themselves out.
Hanging up her purse on the coatrack by the door, she followed Jackson into the kitchen.
“Need any help with dinner?” she offered. The next moment, she felt it was only fair to tell him how limited her abilities in the kitchen were. “I can stir ingredients with the best of them.”
“Not necessary,” he told her. “Everything’s all under control.” Grabbing two towels, one in each hand, Jackson opened the oven door and slid out the pan of pork tenderloin that was to be the main course. “Ryan, by the way, is a natural. I watched him earlier in the corral,” he explained. “You never took him horseback riding?”
Debi shook her head, then brushed away the hair that insisted on falling into her eyes. “Not even on one of those things that gives you a three-minute ride if you feed it enough quarters.”
“How about you?” he asked. “Did you ever ride a horse?”
She didn’t see the connection, but she answered, “Not too many occasions for that in the city. There aren’t exactly a lot of horses wandering around Indianapolis.”
“There are stables around if you know where to look for them,” he told her, placing the pan on top of the counter. “They might not be smack-dab in the middle of the city, but they’re around.” He shut off the oven, then turned off the vegetables that were being cooked on top of the stove. “Not interested in riding?” he asked.
She hadn’t really thought about it one way or another—until just now. “No, it’s just not something I ever got around to. But I wouldn’t mind learning someday.”
The corners of his mouth curved ever so slightly. “Someday,” he repeated.
“Uh-huh. Someday.” Debi wanted to do something, be useful in order to show him her gratitude. She glanced into the dining room. The dishes weren’t out yet. “Let me set the table for you,” she offered.
Not waiting for Jackson’s response, she went into the cupboard and began taking down the necessary plates and glasses as well as gathering the utensils out of the drawers.
Watching her, Jackson smiled to himself. “Why don’t you do that?” he agreed as he went to strain the vegetables.
* * *
TH
E TENDERLOIN ALL but melted in her mouth. She was quickly coming to the conclusion that there was nothing that Jackson White Eagle couldn’t do once he set his mind to it.
The boys at the table polished off both the tenderloin and the generous servings of corn, carrots and mashed potatoes that had been placed beside the main course. Fresh air and the day’s work gave them all healthy appetites.
When the meal was over, Debi rose from the table and began clearing away the dishes. She might not be any help when it came to the actual cooking, but she at least knew how to clean.
But as she turned with a stack of dinner plates in her hands, Jackson put himself in front of her. Before she could say a word, Jackson took the dishes from her. The next moment, he turned to the first teen seated at his right. “Jim, you and Gabe take care of these for me. Nathan, you’ve got the glasses. Jerry, the knives and forks. Ryan, you’ve got the serving plates. That leaves the pots and pans to you three,” he said, addressing the last three teens in his care.
“They can’t all be at the sink at the same time,” Alan pointed out.
“Work it out,” Jackson instructed in a tone that told the boys he knew they would.
Debi frowned as she saw the teens complying immediately. She wasn’t accustomed to just standing back and letting someone else do all the work. In this instance, several someones.
“I can do that,” she protested to Jackson.
“Right now, you’re going to be busy dealing with something else,” Jackson told her. Placing his hand to the small of her back, he guided her out of the dining room.
“I don’t understand,” she told him.
“Easy,” he explained as they reached the front door. “‘Someday’ is here.”
Okay, now he had really lost her. “What?”
He paused right outside the front door. “You said that you’d like to learn how to ride someday. You’re going to need someone to teach you. I’m volunteering, which means that ‘someday’ is here.”
She looked at him uncertainly. Her uncertainty increased as he laced his fingers through hers and ushered her off to the stables.
The Cowboy and the Lady Page 14
