His hands fisted at his sides. As bad as remembering the past felt, the present felt worse. Chaney was right about one thing, it had been a long day. The only person he knew he could trust to help him win custody of his daughter had given him the proverbial boot. The same person had stirred up his insides simply by being within ten feet of him. That was an amazing feat, considering Jed hadn’t had a flicker of desire burn in him since before his divorce.
The damned disco music spilling from the reception only soured his mood more. Being around a bunch of half-drunk people didn’t thrill him. Not that driving to his uncle’s house held much more appeal. At least there, he could be miserable in silence. Tired, cranky, and spoiling for a fight, he walked to his car before he found one of those half-drunk people and gave in to his baser nature.
In the safety of his car, Jed opened the glove box. He searched it for his stash of cigarettes. He’d quit two years ago, but always kept a pack in the glove box. Whether to torture himself or prove he didn’t need them he didn’t know. He just kept them there. There were no cigarettes.
He slammed the glove box shut then slammed the steering wheel for good measure. While he took several breaths to rid himself of the frustration, he remembered why he couldn’t find cigarettes. Driving back to Crescent had put a lot of tension in his shoulders. He knew the temptation would be too much. If cigarettes weren’t available to him in the middle of the highway, he wouldn’t give in. He had tossed them out at a gas station. One state later, he started to replace them. Thankfully, the ridiculous cost of a pack stopped him.
With forced calm, Jed backed out of his space and drove away from the country club. He pushed the button to roll down the window while he drove through Crescent. Scrubbing a hand over his tired face, he was amazed he could focus enough to drive. It was exhaustion, he told himself. Exhaustion and being in a place that was an emotional mine field.
He’d come here after his parents’ death and his recovery from the accident that claimed them. Here he had been tagged the town bad boy. Here he had endured his uncle’s looks of displeasure. Here, to his amazement, he’d found someone who understood the pain that caused him to act out in a bad way. Also, it was here that the choice to disappear or have charges brought against him for something he hadn’t done had been delivered.
The thought of his ship sinking had never scared him as much as coming back here. For that very reason, he had only come back for his aunt’s funeral. At that time, he’d still been married and figured he’d be safe from McBride’s wrath.
He’d been right. Actually, he hadn’t seen McBride. The man hadn’t attended the funeral. Chaney had though.
The second their eyes met, he knew it had been a mistake to return. He guessed somewhere in his subconscious he had already known his marriage was a failure and had come back hoping to find that there was still something between them.
There was.
Anger.
Though she had been polite and considerate at the funeral, when they ran into each other a couple of days later, she made it perfectly clear how she felt. She had said the same thing today.
Driving down the solitary road to his uncle’s ranch, Jed replayed Chaney’s parting words. We’re not friends; we’re not even enemies. We’re nothing. We’re nothing. We’re nothing.
Jed’s foot smashed the brake pedal to the floor, skidding to a dead stop in the middle of the road. He was a few hundred feet from his uncle’s driveway. If he drove to the top of the rise ahead, he would see McBride’s Pride. Chaney’s ranch. He wondered how things were going now that her father had died. Chaney had a knack for ranch work like some women had for baking pies. There wasn’t any reason to believe things had changed since McBride died six months ago.
Shaking his head, calling himself every kind of fool, he took his foot from the brake. It didn’t matter if things were wonderful or terrible. Chaney would never turn to him for help. Still, he remembered the tension in her voice during that call before they had danced. The uneasy feeling that something was wrong prickled along his neck as he pulled onto his uncle’s property.
Parking outside the barn closest to the house, Jed stepped out of the car. Closing the door, he leaned against it. He tipped his head back and looked up. Man, he’d forgotten how many stars you could see out here.
He remained motionless in the silence for several minutes. Mixed in with all the bad memories of his years here, he remembered a peace. Even right after his parents died. When things had been so bad he wanted to cry, though everyone knew boys didn’t cry, even then he could find somewhere to be quiet. Eventually, calm would settle over him.
The porch light came on and the screen door squeaked open. Jed turned his head and saw his uncle standing in the doorway.
“You gonna stand out there star gazin’ all night or come in and keep an old man company?”
Jed felt a lop-sided grin tug at his lips. That was the closest he would get to an invitation from his uncle. He decided it wasn’t half bad. “Got any whiskey?”
“Brand new bottle, haven’t broken the seal yet. I was hoping you’d get home soon so I wouldn’t have to drink alone.”
Home? He’d lived here from the time he was twelve until Chaney’s father had run him off. Jed had never considered it home. Maybe things had changed.
“Let me get my bags.”
Jed pushed off from the car. Opening the trunk he pulled out a suitcase and hanging bag. He had planned to get to town the day before and rent a room. Construction and vacation traffic had slowed his cross-country drive drastically. He arrived at the church, with barely time to change into the tuxedo Steve rented for him. Jed had been shocked when told that Dale expected him to stay at the house. Later, Jed had called the few hotels in town and found no vacancies. That was why he found himself here now. With the bag slung over his shoulder and suitcase in hand, he strode toward the porch.
“Now is this the good stuff or the cheap whiskey Steve and I used to sneak from the kitchen cupboard?” His uncle’s laughter eased away more of the day’s frustration.
“You boys didn’t really think I didn’t know, did you? Why do you think it took so long to get drunk on that stuff? I watered it down.”
It was Jed’s turn to laugh. “But we watered it down so you wouldn’t know.”
“Of course you did. All boys do. By the time you two actually drank anything it was probably about ten proof.”
“Still burned like hell going down,” Jed told him when they stopped laughing.
“But that didn’t stop you from drinking it.”
“No, that would have been the smart thing to do. Smart wasn’t my forte back then.”
They sat down at the table and Dale poured them shots. After they’d both thrown one back he poured another. “And now?”
“Now I try and consider all the consequences before I do something.” Yeah, like you did before you dared Chaney to marry you? His hand gripped the shot glass tightly with the reminder of his stupidity. He noticed the hint of a smile on his uncle’s face. He wondered if Dale somehow knew about the proposal and was getting ready to call him on the lie.
“Don’t let it worry you, Jed. None of us is born smart. Some have a longer row to hoe than others,” Dale said, surprising Jed.
“Don’t make excuses for me.”
His uncle smiled. “You should know by now, I don’t make or take excuses from anybody. I’m just speaking the truth. Truth is you did some right stupid things when you were younger. Most of us have. Unfortunately, you were one of the ones to get caught.”
Jed downed his second shot and let the fire burn down his throat. It settled to a warm flame in his stomach. His uncle poured another. Jed threw that one back as well before setting the shot glass firmly on the table between them. “Loving Chaney wasn’t stupid.”
“I didn’t say it was, son. The stupid part was thinking loving her meant you had to sleep with her. You were asking for trouble and you know it. Travis McBride was a proud man. He wasn’t
about to let some wild stallion steal his precious daughter. You both knew that or you wouldn’t have been sneaking around to spend time together.”
“Maybe,” Jed offered grudgingly.
“No maybe about it. You were looking for a way to prove you weren’t worthy of anything and you took the surest road to that end.”
Jed didn’t say anything. He simply stared at his uncle. He wanted to deny it, but couldn’t.
His uncle tossed back another shot. Another long silence stood between them. Dale moved the bottle to the middle of the table.
“I’ve no doubt you know I’m not apologizing for letting you leave. I will apologize for not reaching out sooner, but after all this time I figured you didn’t want to hear from me.”
His uncle leaned back in his chair and rolled his shot glass between his palms. Jed wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the rest. He waited anyway. His uncle sighed and Jed felt true confusion. Dale did not sigh. Ever. Something must be terribly wrong. His already tense shoulders tightened more. Was his uncle sick? Like his aunt, did his uncle now have cancer and didn’t want to tell Steve and ruin the wedding?
His uncle shook his head and grinned awkwardly. It didn’t ease Jed’s worry.
“That’s not true,” Dale said. “I was afraid. Afraid if I did call, you would tell me you never wanted to talk to me again. Then, any hope would be gone.”
Shocked by the unexpected admission and the lack of trouble, Jed was at a loss. “I’m not sure what to say. I wouldn’t have said that to you. You and Steve are--”
“I know, but that only makes it worse that I let this go on so long.”
“Why don’t we say we both acted poorly and let it go,” Jed said.
“You’re letting me off the hook. I don’t deserve it,” Dale said. “I’ll take it, but I want to explain a little more.”
Jed nodded and sat back to listen.
“Explaining isn’t my strength. Unfortunately, the only words I’ve ever been any good at are orders. The soft words kids and women like to hear, that was your daddy’s gift.”
Jed perked up a bit. His uncle had never once mentioned Jed’s father after the funeral. It was like an unwritten rule between them.
“And yours. Don’t look so surprised. I knew you had the gift the moment you started talking as a baby. It’s probably the reason I kept you at a distance.”
“I don’t understand. I always thought you and dad were close.”
“We were. Jed, you are your daddy from head to toe. You look like him, you act like him, and you even talk like him. It hurt.”
“I talk like Dad?” Jed remembered Belle telling him earlier he spoke beautifully. He’d thought she was teasing him. Listening to his uncle though, had him remembering other times people commented on his speech.
At times, especially in high school, it had been a curse. The other guys called him a smooth talker, always handy with a line for the ladies. Getting A’s in creative writing wasn’t exactly cool for the football running back at the time. However, to know his dad had been the same made all the teasing worthwhile.
“If you talked any more like him it would be downright spooky,” his uncle chuckled. He stared at Jed in silence for a moment. “Anyway,” Dale paused, then looked Jed straight in the eye, “what I was getting at is, I want to take back what I said earlier.”
Jed dropped his gaze and shook his head trying to figure out why he’d let his uncle’s offer of a drink and rare glance at the past make him believe things had changed. He still doesn’t want me around. Why can’t I move beyond the pain of my childhood?
“When I said you should leave, I didn’t mean it.”
Lifting his head to look at what had to be an aberration sitting across the table, Jed waited for more.
“Steve and I’ve been talking. We want you to stay. Don’t worry I don’t expect you to work the ranch. I know how you feel about it. But, I would like you to stay here at the house.”
Jed couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. With his forearms on the table, he leaned forward a little. “Really? You’ve never wanted me here. Do you think I don’t remember how much you resented having to take me in after Mom and Dad died?”
Dale looked away for a moment. Jed knew he had hit his mark. His uncle had made the offer out of guilt, nothing more.
“I know that’s how it looked,” Dale said.
“Looked? That’s how it was, Dale.” Jed’s anger was burning in his gut. He had never allowed himself to tell his uncle how much his rejection hurt.
Dale shook his head. “No, it wasn’t taking you in I resented. I would have done anything for my brother. It was just . . .” he shrugged. “You were so much like your father. Every morning I would wake up and his double would be staring at me across the breakfast table, just like when he and I were kids. It wasn’t just your looks. I doubt you will believe this, but your dad was a handful when he was young. He got me in more trouble than I care to remember. You were the same way with Steve.”
Jed couldn’t do more than stare. Now he was baring his soul? What was going on?
“Losing my brother, well, it was like losing a part of me. The best part. He had all the brains and talent. You got that, too. Words came easy to him.”
“But not you,” Jed said.
Dale chuckled. “You noticed, huh?”
Jed couldn’t hold back a grin. Words were never Dale’s strong suit. When Jed thought about it, this was probably the longest conversation he and Dale ever had. “As long as they were short sentences you didn’t have a problem. Like, what the hell are you doing, Jed. Or, I swear, boy, you are the orneriest creature God ever made. Is orneriest even a word?”
“Hey, it got the point across. Sometimes too well,” Dale said, shaking his head and sighing. “I didn’t mean to hurt you; it just hurt me so much to watch you. It should have been your dad telling you those things.”
Dale capped the bottle before he stood. Jed watched warily, still not ready to let go of the past. He figured Dale’s welcoming attitude came from the emotions of watching his only son start a new life. Jed understood the loneliness of an empty house.
His uncle chuckled. “I understand your doubts. It surprised me, too. But seeing you and Steve together today, I realized how much I’ve missed you.”
“Like a splinter under your finger nail?”
His uncle shook his head turning toward the hallway, then back. “I didn’t expect you to jump up and down with joy. Maybe it took me too long to come around, but I had to say it. I want to see my boys back together and happy.”
His boys?
“It’s been a long time since I’ve known happy.”
“You deserve it as much as Steve. Maybe more with all you’ve lost. Stay and see if you can find it here. And,” he paused, pursing his lips a moment. “If you still love Chaney, go for it.”
Jed poured himself another shot after his uncle’s door closed. He sipped it slowly, thinking about what the man said.
Still love Chaney? No, he didn’t love her anymore. The only person he loved was his daughter. Could he marry someone just to win a custody battle? Someone willing to pretend to love him for the sake of a child they didn’t know? Could he pretend to love someone enough to convince a judge? Even Chaney?
With that annoying thought, he threw back the rest of the shot.
Chapter Two
Entering the horse barn, Chaney couldn’t shake off the sense of doom that had been plaguing her all day. Concentrating on the ranch’s various issues hadn’t pushed it away. She had been amazed when she took over some of the chores her father had always insisted on doing himself. He had always seemed so efficient, so capable. The mess she found in what he called the books was atrocious. When she’d figured it all out, it had been downright frightening. None of that compared to the mess he made of her life with his will. Chaney kicked the stall door in her frustration causing the horse behind it to whinny and step back.
“I’m sorry, Sterling,” she said stroking t
he stallion’s long neck. “It’s not your fault my father was a pig-headed man who didn’t believe a woman could run a ranch.”
Well, tonight was her last chance. If she couldn’t convince Billy Bradley to go along with her plan, she’d have to look into one of those pick-a-date places in Denver. A shiver ran down her spine at the very thought of going out with, forget marrying, a total stranger. Besides, she didn’t have time. What stranger would marry someone within a week?
“What were you thinking, Daddy,” Chaney grumbled while pulling open the door to the house. She knew exactly what he’d been thinking. No woman, especially his stubborn, difficult, can’t-get-a-respectable-man daughter was going to be in charge of his ranch.
Chaney stomped into the house letting the screen slam behind her.
“Don’t you be slamming my screen door, young lady. I may be old, but I can still turn you over my knee any time I want,” Martha said. “And take those filthy boots off. I just mopped the kitchen floor.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Chaney said. After removing the offending boots, she walked through the mudroom to the kitchen and collapsed in a chair. Martha set a tall glass of iced tea in front of Chaney and then sat across from her.
“So, who is it tonight?”
Chaney cringed at Martha’s straightforward approach. It made the whole thing seem so sordid. “Gee, Martha, don’t beat around the bush, just ask me what you want to know.”
“Don’t get sassy with me. I knew you before your bottom got spanked by the doctor.”
The age-old line took the wind out of Chaney’s sails. Not because it irritated her, but because it was true. Martha had worked for her family since before Chaney was born. Through every trial and tribulation Chaney had faced, Martha had been there. This was why Chaney had shared her latest problem with her. Well, part of it anyway.
“I’m sorry,” she said after another swallow of tea. “Billy Bradley.” Chaney couldn’t hide the automatic distaste of the thought.
A Daring Proposal Page 3
