Jack found himself laughing. “Oh, I see. Lilly doesn’t cut it?”
“No.”
“Well, having a mother named Lark, and two aunts named Willow and Swan, I have to say, you get used to the names. My mother always wanted to be called Victoria. She loved that name, but instead, she was Lark.”
Grace smiled. “Lark is a beautiful name.”
So is Grace, he thought, but didn’t say it out loud. Instead, he changed the subject completely. “Where did you get your fear of snakes?”
She was thoughtful, as if she was trying to remember something. Finally, she said, “I saw a snake once in the zoo in San Diego, a huge, and I mean, humungous snake—it had to be twenty feet long. It was right by the glass and when I moved up to see it, it flung itself at the glass and I screamed. It was awful.”
Jack recoiled from the thought that ran riot through him. If he’d been with her, he would have made sure she wasn’t afraid of a snake behind glass. Protectiveness? Probably, but why? Grace was nothing to him, beyond a recent acquaintance and possible friend, but as soon as the thought formed, he knew he was wrong. There was something about her, something that touched him in the strangest way. Something that made him feel almost unfaithful to Robyn.
Going to the family ranch was out. She could keep the horse at her place. He would take her straight to the old adobe, then get out of there. These early morning rides were over for the two of them, but he knew he needed to head off by himself. Everything in his life had gotten horribly scrambled. His plans, his memories. A ride into the high country would give him time to think, to sort out his muddled thoughts He pulled his horse around to go south, breaking a new trail through the low, dead grass. If he angled across the sprawling pasture, he’d get to the old ranch in ten minutes.
* * *
GRACE SAW A look cross Jack’s face that she couldn’t explain. She wondered if maybe he was sick of her, of showing her the land, of her stupid questions. She could sense something had changed, and she gave him an out. “You know, I can walk from here. Why don’t you take Lucy with you back to your parents’ and I’ll hike back to the house?”
He stopped and turned to her. His dark eyes raked over her. “You want to get away from me?”
She thought he was kidding, but he wasn’t. “No, of course not,” she said, and knew that she could ride all day with Jack and be happy. “Of course not,” she said.
“Then what’s with the idea of hiking back?”
“Making it easier for you,” she blurted out. “You seem to want to get rid of me, and I was giving you a way to do that faster.”
He stared at her. “You really think that I want to be rid of you?”
“Don’t you?” she asked.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
JACK FELT AS if he’d been blindsided. Grace thought he wanted to be rid of her? She couldn’t be more off base, but he wasn’t about to explain that to her. He just needed to get away because of himself. To sort out what he wanted.
“No,” he said truthfully, then proceeded to lie to her. “I forgot I have an appointment, and it’s easier to get you to your place, than the big ranch.”
She considered that, her lavender eyes intent on him. “Really?”
He forced himself to nod. “Really.”
But she didn’t let it go. “I’m so sorry about the land, about the mess this has caused. I really am.”
“It’s not your fault and it’s not mine,” he said. “So, don’t be sorry. It is what it is.”
That sounded so final, so awful for some reason. He hated her having to feel apologetic for her father’s actions, as much as he hated feeling that way about his own father.
“You’re really being great about all of this,” Grace said.
He looked away, tugging at the brim of his cap, unable to speak. He was about to ride off when Grace suddenly screamed.
He turned to see a blur of yellow and black cutting through the grass. A snake, and it was coming right toward the horses.
Grace was staring at it in horror, then dropped her reins to grab the saddle horn. She had no idea the snake was harmless, and instinctively she kicked Lucy in the side. The usually placid mare took off, Grace holding on for dear life.
Jack took off after her and quickly gained on the smaller animal.
“Stop, stop, stop!” Grace was screaming, then he noticed the fence dead ahead of her. The top rail was broken, but there was no way Lucy could jump the lower two pieces.
He spurred his horse on until he was almost parallel with Grace. Pulling his horse even closer to the mare, Jack thrust out a hand and caught Grace around the waist. “Get your feet free now!” he yelled at her.
He could see her right foot slip free, and could only trust her left was also out of the stirrup. The next instant he jerked her toward him, swinging her up and over in a half circle until she hit his body, almost knocking the wind out of him.
“Whoa, whoa,” he said slowly, and watched as Lucy made a sharp turn, taking off along the fence line.
Jack pulled Grace into his arms, setting her sideways over the saddle, on his thighs. She turned into him, sobbing, crushing his shirt in her hands, face pressed against his chest. He just held her, and didn’t let go. He never wanted to let go.
* * *
GRACE FELT JACK’S heart thudding against her cheek, and his arms around her. She felt safe, and her relief almost made her giddy. She couldn’t stop the tears, but now they were from knowing that the snake was gone, and she wasn’t plunging headlong on a horse toward sure disaster.
“Oh, my gosh, my gosh,” she gulped, her voice muffled against Jack’s chest. “Oh, my gosh.”
“It’s okay,” Jack said, his voice a rumble all around her. “You’re safe.”
Then she had a horrible thought. “Lucy, is she dead, or did she break her leg or something?”
“No, she’s not dead,” he murmured. “She’s very much alive.”
Grace let go of her death grip on his shirt, and made herself look toward the fence. Jack was right. Lucy was very much alive, her reins dragging through the dead grass as she cavorted in the pasture like a kid let out of school. “Thank goodness,” she breathed, sinking weakly against Jack again.
He held her for a long moment, then eased back, managing to get out of the saddle and on the ground, taking her with him. Then he let her go, almost. His hands stayed on her shoulders while she found her footing, then when she was steady, he touched her chin, cupping it to make her look up at him. “What was that all about?” he asked softly, with no reproach in his tone.
She closed her eyes. “A snake, it was coming toward us, a huge snake.”
“If you hadn’t screamed, Lucy wouldn’t have even known it was there.”
“But, it was big snake, heading right toward the horse and me, and you, too.”
He brushed at her hair, which had loosened from the ponytail. “That’s a Desert King snake, Grace.”
“Oh, okay, so it’s got a name, but it was coming so fast through the grass.”
He let go of her and stood back. “Time for a lesson. The Desert King snake is common around here and we try to encourage them to stay.”
“Why on earth would you—?”
“They aren’t venomous, and they eat rodents, lizards and small rattlesnakes. They’re good to have around. They’re also more afraid of you than you are of them. It probably didn’t even notice us until the screaming.”
A good snake? She shook her head. “That’s what you think, but you can’t know that they wouldn’t bite someone.”
“Gage had a Desert King as a pet and that thing would literally roll over and play dead when one of us got close.” He laughed. “The thing is, once we thought it was dead, and when Gage flipped it over onto its stomach, the darn thing flipped back on its back and continued to play dead.”
”Wow, I feel stupid,” she said, although she’d never forget how the snake had seemed to come at them.
“No, it’s not stupi
d to be cautious. You don’t know about snakes, so how would you recognize if it was a rattler or not. We grew up around them.”
Grace was shocked when something nudged her back and she turned to see Lucy standing there docilely. “Oh, there you are,” she crooned, and reached out to stroke the mare’s muzzle. “Good girl, very good girl.”
“You’ve got the touch,” he said as the horse moved closer to nuzzle into her. “I think Lucy likes you, despite the screams.”
She found she could smile at that, and it felt good. Jack nodded to the horse. “You still want to hike to your place?”
“No, thanks,” she said.
“Good, then get back on Lucy and let’s get going.”
“Okay.” She rounded the mare and grabbed the horn with one hand, and the back of the saddle with the other. She pulled as hard as she could and pushed with one foot in the stirrup. Remarkably, she went up, almost sliding completely off the saddle, but Jack was there to balance her while she swung her other leg over. “I almost made it,” she said, feeling just a bit of pride.
“You almost did,” he said, then turned to remount his horse. The ride back was quicker than she thought, and by the time they reached the stables, she was amazed at how good it felt to be in the saddle. “Some day when you have the time, let me know and we can finish the part of the perimeter that we missed with our detour to the lake.”
She looked at him, aware of how intense his dark eyes could be when he wasn’t smiling. “Sure,” she said. “That sounds fine.” She hesitated, then surprised herself with her next words.
“Why don’t you stick around and we can have some lunch. My mother’s making chili for the first time, and I can’t vouch for it, but everything else she cooks is very good.”
Jack was silent, then shook his head. “Thanks, but I need to get going.”
She wasn’t prepared for the disappointment she felt at his refusal. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Maybe another time.” And with that he got down, and let Grace get off Lucy. He gave her the reins to his horse, and led Lucy without looking back. “She can stay for another few days, until we finish the last ride,” he called over his shoulder before he disappeared into the stables.
Grace stood there, waiting, until Jack was done and took control of his horse again. She could sense he wanted to be gone. But before he could start out, the front door to the house opened and Parrish came down the stairs. “Good ride?” he asked.
“He took me to see the lake,” Grace said, and Parrish laughed.
“You do know that’s a come-on line, sort of like ‘come up and see my etchings,’ don’t you?”
Grace felt her face get hot, and she didn’t look at Jack.
“Back in the day, that was a popular line for the teenage population,” Jack said. “I just wanted to show her that Wolf Lake really does have a lake.”
“Yeah, right on,” Parrish said, then asked, “Is the little mare in the stables?”
“Yeah, I’m leaving her here for a few days,” Jack said.
“Good, I’ll go make sure she’s set-tling down.
As Parrish moved off, a high-pitched squeal filled the air and Lilly dashing down the front steps.
* * *
JACK HAD REFUSED lunch at the ranch, because he wasn’t sure he could get through it. The idea was appealing, but when he realized that was only because of Grace, he knew he had to get out of there as soon as he could. Now a child he knew must be Lilly was staring up at him.
It was as if Jack was looking at a miniature version of Grace. Lily was cute, petite and blonde, with those same lavender eyes.
He felt his heart lurch. A child like the mother. That was only right, the way things should be. He felt that familiar loss deep inside, the one that had been there since Robyn died. He knew he should leave, but he didn’t. Instead he dismounted and watched as the child came closer.
Those large eyes looked him over from head to foot, then she pointed at his boots. “They’re real dirty.”
“Lilly,” Grace said. “He’s been out riding and hiking—boots get dirty.”
“That man at the store said we had to keep our boots clean,” she countered.
“Yes, but—”
Lilly turned and pointed at the horse. “He sure is big,” she said, not going closer.
“He’s a big one, okay, but he’s only three years old,” Jack said, not really sure how to talk with a child. Erin never said much when she was around.
“No,” Lilly said. “You’re kidding me, aren’t you?”
“I’m not kidding. He was born and bred on my parents’ ranch.”
Lilly breathed, “Wow,” then she said, “Jack, are you a real cowboy?”
“I guess so, at least, part time. Most times I’m an attorney, but I love to ride.”
“I’m going to ride my horse soon. Mama said I could once I get taught. Then I’ll ride Mosi over and see you, okay?”
“You do that,” he said. “You get a few lessons, and I think you’ll be a natural.” She grinned at the compliment, and again, he could see Grace as a child. “I need to go,” he said, more abruptly than he meant to.
Lilly said, “I got something,” and ran back to the house. She returned a minute later, holding something out to him.
He looked down and saw a large cookie in her hand. “Oh, I don’t need a cookie,” he said.
But that was the wrong thing to say. Her bottom lip jutted out and she moved the cookie closer to him. “It’s for you.”
He didn’t want to hurt the child’s feelings, so he reached out to take the cookie, then hunkered down in front of her. “Thank you very much.”
Without saying anything, Lilly turned and ran back inside the house.
“Lilly doesn’t share with just anyone,” Grace told Jack truthfully.
He looked at the cookie and closed it in his hand. “I have to go,” he said, then mounted his horse again, and with a nod, set off past the stables. Jack got down to the main road before he pulled the horse to a stop and opened his hand to see that he’d crushed the cookie into a gooey ball of chocolate and crumbs.
Memories he’d fought for so long were there, assaulting him, and he stayed very still. Why now, why those memories? The child and a cookie. Grace on the horse looking up at him. Brushing his arm, sitting by him. The feeling of her clinging to him when she’d seen the snake.
His stomach churned, and with a low groan, he threw the crumbled cookie into the brush and rode back to his parents’ ranch. He didn’t go up to the house. He went into the stable complex, got some supplies, then took off in the direction of the Rez. But halfway there, his cell phone rang, and he pulled it out of his shirt pocket. Maureen. He hesitated, then answered, knowing he owed it to her to let her know he wouldn’t be in for a few days.
“Yes,” he said into the phone.
“Good grief, man, I’ve been trying to find you for an hour!”
“What’s so important?” he asked.
“It’s your dad.”
His hand tightened on the phone, and he closed his eyes so hard that he saw flashes of color behind his lids. He could barely get out the question. “What about him?”
“He knows how to get the land back,” she said without preamble.
“What in the—?”
“Listen, I’ve talked to him, and he’s told me about his idea, and, Jack, it’s a good one. You need to talk to him right away.”
Her words came to him, hardly making sense. An idea from his dad to get the land? He wasn’t sure what he felt. But he knew that he didn’t trust anything his dad said or did at the moment.
As if Maureen could read his mind, she said, “And if you’re thinking of ignoring this because it came from your dad, don’t do it. I know you’re still hurt, but if this works, everything could be back exactly the way it was before.”
He didn’t know what he was thinking or what he felt. The answer to his prayers? Another scheme from the man who’d made the mess in the f
irst place?
“Thanks,” he mumbled and cut off the call. When the phone rang again almost immediately, he glanced at the readout. Gage. He hit the ignore button. Before he could get the phone in his pocket, another call came in. Adam. He wanted to ignore it, too, but finally answered.
“What?”
“Oh, good, we’ve been trying to call you for an hour.”
“What is it?” he asked.
He told Jack the same thing Maureen had. But Adam ended with, “You know, it makes sense to me. I could work with it. This could all be over soon.”
The lone ride he had planned disappeared. “Where are you?” he asked Adam.
“At the station covering for John. His son has a recital at school.”
“I’ll be there in half an hour.” He hesitated. “You and me, and Gage if you want, but no one else.”
Adam didn’t argue. “You’ve got it.”
Exactly thirty minutes later, Jack pulled up to the flat-roofed police station in his Jeep and got out. Striding through the swinging doors, he nodded to the deputy behind the low desk and headed straight for the chief of police’s office. Pushing back the door without knocking, he found both of his brothers inside, waiting.
Adam sat behind the desk with its two computer monitors, stacks of files and a panel that serviced six separate phone lines. A red light flashed on one. The painted brick walls were hung with certificates for marksmanship and diplomas for the courses John Longbow had taken over the years. A picture of the chief’s family was front and center. Gage was occupying one of three chairs facing the desk.
Jack took the one closest to him, dropped down heavily on the hard wood and sat forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. “Okay, I’m here,” he said.
The two brothers exchanged glances with each other, then both turned to Jack. Gage spoke first. “Dad called us this morning, early, and we met at your offices. Maureen was there.”
Jack held up a hand to stop Gage. “I don’t care about that—just give me the basics.”
Gage nodded, not offended, and started right in telling Jack what he wanted to know. “Dad had an investigator go to the place where his game with Michaels was held and asked around. Nothing for a bit, then the guy hit on one of the other players. Bottom line, that woman agreed to go to court and say that Dad was totally drunk, out of it, and had no idea what he was doing when he threw the promissory note for the deed into the pot. Diminished capacity. And that Michaels knew Dad’s condition when he accepted the bet.” Gage spread his hands palms up. “Ergo, go to court and sue for return of the property. Dad said he’d testify about the blackouts and affirm that he didn’t even know what he’d done until you came after him. He’s willing to go public about everything.”
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