by Anna Sugden
* * *
JACKSON GLANCED INTO Morgan’s room before leaving for his appointment with Kayla. She was busy on Facebook.
“I’m heading out,” he told her.
She hit the minimize button to hide what she’d been doing before swiveling around.
“Yeah?”
Concerned, Jackson took a step into the room. “Morgan, you’re careful on the internet, aren’t you? You wouldn’t go meet with someone you don’t know, or give strangers personal information?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’ve only told me that, like, a gazillion times. And the school gave us a booklet about it, too.”
“Okay. Don’t forget to stay cautious.”
“Whatever.”
Jackson clenched his jaw. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, later.”
* * *
KAYLA WALKED INTO the Schuyler Coffee Shack and was surprised to see Cora from Ryan’s working behind the counter.
“Two jobs?” she asked.
“Yup, I’m saving for a trip to Tahiti.”
“That’s nice.” Kayla ordered a decaf iced latte and dropped a dollar in the tip jar. “The patio is open, right? I’m meeting someone.”
“Sure.” Cora grinned as she made the latte. “Let me guess...you’re meeting Jackson. Schuyler is going to buzz tonight—he never sees the same gal two days in a row.”
“We’re simply working out some family matters,” Kayla answered drily.
“Yeah, I heard the two of you committed parenthood back in high school.”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
Cora chuckled and Kayla realized there was no point in being offended. The McGregors were a prominent family in Schuyler, and her grandfather had served five terms as mayor before retiring. It was inevitable that the gossips were having a field day.
“Good luck,” Cora said, handing a tall cup across the counter. “Jackson is a hot dish that lots of local gals would love to sample. Of course, since his divorce, he’s kind of developed a he-man attitude, but I bet he’s a real take-charge guy in the bedroom.”
“Really?” Jackson’s voice said behind Kayla.
“Yep, call my number anytime you want,” Cora informed him, unabashed. “I don’t mind sampling the caveman for a night or two. Black coffee, right?”
* * *
“UH, RIGHT.” JACKSON TOOK the cup Cora handed him. He and Kayla walked outside to a table in the deserted patio.
“Gossiping?” he asked as they sat down.
“Cora was gossiping. I was waiting for my latte. But maybe you should take her up on the offer. She seems nice and very astute.”
He frowned. “No, thanks. So when do we leave for Yellowstone?”
Kayla’s eyes widened. Straight to business. That seemed different. “Assuming everything is a done deal might work for a car salesman, but Alex is very careful. He has a few more questions. And possibly more to come.” She took out a notebook and pen.
Tamping down his impatience wasn’t easy, but Jackson kept his expression neutral, wary of any reports Kayla was bringing back to Alex.
“I’m anxious to move things forward,” he said. “And not just for my sake—my parents and the rest of the family are eager to meet him, as well. What does he want to know?”
“I’ve already dealt with some of his concerns, such as how we’d get there. My grandparents have an RV and I explained we’d ride with them, while you and Morgan drive separately.”
“An RV?” he questioned. “But it’s a camping trip.”
Though Kayla smiled blandly, there was steel in her eyes. “My grandparents may not look old, but they’re in their seventies. Having a comfortable bed isn’t too much to ask. Plus, there’s a small kitchen in the RV.”
“I’ve got a terrific cookstove.”
“Fine, bring it. Maybe we’ll use that instead, but when Grams bakes a cake, she’ll do it in the RV.”
A cake?
Jackson’s vision of a hardy outdoor excursion began to erode; he’d hoped it would be easier getting to know Alex with fewer modern distractions.
“Uh, why would she make a cake? We can buy sweets.”
“We certainly can, but I guarantee Grams will do some baking, too. It’s DeeDee’s birthday next week and Grams wants her to have a cake she’s made herself.”
“Oh.”
The whole thing was exasperating, but only a louse would argue against a child’s birthday cake. He’d do well to remember Kayla had two kids to consider, along with her grandparents. “You’re right,” he conceded. “An RV is a good idea for your grandparents, and DeeDee should have a homemade cake.”
Kayla put a hand over her mouth as she yawned. “Sorry, I was up early on a call to Seattle.”
With a boyfriend?
The speculation annoyed Jackson. Kayla seemed to be a decent mother, so her dating habits weren’t his concern. Most divorcées in her situation would be searching for a new relationship, and with her looks, she probably had them lined up at the door.
Still, the prospect of a new stepfather might be hard on a teenage boy. Jackson considered how he’d feel in Alex’s place and decided he should know what sort of men were in his son’s life.
“Are you seeing anyone seriously?” he asked.
Kayla’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s none of your business.”
“Anything that affects Alex is my business.”
She snorted. “As if you have a clue about your biological son’s life.”
“That isn’t my fault. And don’t call Alex my ‘biological son’ as if you’d gone to a fertility clinic.”
“Do we have to cover this again? Biology and relationship are two different things. So far, you only have DNA in common. As for it not being your ‘fault,’ don’t rewrite history,” she said coolly. “I told you I was pregnant and you rejected both of us. What was I supposed to do, come back to Schuyler every year and find out whether you’d grown up enough to face your responsibilities? I don’t think so.”
The justice in her retort was indisputable. Even the argument that Kayla could have returned at least once put him on shaky ground, yet a part of Jackson remained angry. He had treated her poorly, but he’d also lost fifteen years with Alex, making it unlikely they’d ever share the kind of relationship a father and son should share.
“As for me dating,” Kayla continued, “you probably think a woman always wants a man, except that isn’t true. Though it’s really none of your business, I’ve gone out a few times since my divorce, but only because I was pushed by friends. I’m not sure I want to fall in love again. And certainly not until Alex and DeeDee are grown.”
“Your divorce must have been rough.”
“It wasn’t happy. How did it feel when you and Marcy split?” she asked.
“Mostly relief.” And loathing, he added silently.
“Then, you can’t understand what it’s like when someone you love says he doesn’t want to be married any longer.”
Though he saw pain in her eyes, a curious envy went through Jackson—at least Kayla and her ex-husband had started by loving each other. He’d never expected the kind of grand passion that poets extolled, but it would have been nice if he and Marcy had felt more for each other.
“Anyway,” Kayla said, “I’m here to get Alex’s questions answered, not to discuss my personal life.” She glanced at her notebook. “Among other things, Alex wants to be assured that if he’s really unhappy, you won’t go ballistic if we pack up and leave your little tea party.”
Jackson set his jaw at the deliberate goad. “Of course not,” he answered in even tones.
“The same goes for trying to spend every minute together. He knows the point of the trip is to get acquainted with you and Morgan, but he doesn’t want to commit to anything too intense.”
“Doesn’t he even care about meeting me?”
Faint sympathy filled Kayla’s face. “It’s hard to say. Alex won’t explain what’s bothering him the mos
t. All I get from him is little stuff.”
“All right,” Jackson said wearily. “I won’t mind if he wants to spend time doing other things. But you need to start encouraging him in my direction, or this will never work.”
The sympathy instantly vanished from her expression. “You seem to assume I’ve been pushing the two of you apart. While it’s a temptation, I happen to think it’s best for Alex to face this, instead of backing off.”
“Fine,” Jackson muttered.
“Why do you seem to assume I’m working against you?”
Jackson’s jaw set. “Sorry, that’s what Marcy does.”
“Well, I’m not Marcy.” Kayla put her cup aside. “If you were so relieved when your marriage ended, how did you become one of those bitter divorced men they talk about in advice columns?”
“I’m not bitter, and now you’re butting into my private business.”
“What’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander, as my grandmother would say. I’ve told you, I don’t want Alex picking up your attitudes. It’s hard enough teaching kids to be wary in a dangerous world and still have a basic faith in people. He doesn’t need to learn distrust vicariously.”
His head pounding, Jackson tried to think rationally. There was a kernel of truth in what Kayla was saying, but it wasn’t just Marcy who’d made him so cautious about the opposite sex. The seemingly nice woman he’d dated after his divorce had just been using him. And then there were others over the years, including a buddy’s wife who had hit on him shortly before Marcy left for New York. And the wife of another friend who’d actually suggested talking her husband into a threesome. Two years later she’d quietly cleaned out their joint bank accounts and disappeared.
But he didn’t plan on telling Alex about such things.
“I’ll watch what I say around him,” he said finally. “What’s his next question?”
Kayla regarded him for a long minute before looking back at her notebook. At least two pages were covered with writing and Jackson resigned himself to the inevitable.
They were going to be there awhile.
CHAPTER SIX
KAYLA WAS PRIVATELY amused when Jackson walked her to the car. Even in high school he’d held doors and pulled out chairs for girls, all the while with condoms in his wallet and a seductive glint in his eyes.
“Nice ride,” he said, looking at her silver SUV. “Rental?”
“It’s mine.”
“I would have pegged you for something more unconventional. Did your ex-husband pick it out?”
“Nope. I bought it last November. I like Volvos because of their safety record. When you work on insurance billings, you hear about too many accidents.”
“Didn’t you do insurance billing at Dr. Wilson’s office for your after-school job?”
“That’s right.” She grinned unexpectedly. “At the time I was bored out of my skull, but I’m grateful. He paid well and it gave me the skills to get my business started.”
Jackson seemed surprised by something, but she didn’t have time to find out what it might be. It was late and she wanted to get back to help Grams with dinner.
“Oh, wait,” he said as she opened the Volvo door. “Can you send me some pictures of Alex?”
“Sure.” Kayla groped in her purse and pulled out her phone. “Here, type in your email address.” When he’d entered it, she sent him three of her favorite photos. “I have our family albums on my laptop, so I’ll pick out a selection of Alex when he was younger, too.”
“That’s great. Let him know we can work everything out.”
Kayla didn’t crack a smile until after she’d climbed into the Volvo and was driving away. At least for the moment, Jackson had improved his tactics. It was a smart move, since his bullheaded approach had failed.
Yet the meeting with Jackson had underscored another worrisome concern for her—what sort of expectations did he have for a son? His dismay over her grandparents bringing a recreational vehicle had raised an instant image: rugged frontiersman who conquers the wild with nothing more than a knife and flint—flint optional.
Alex, on the other hand, wasn’t outdoorsy.
He enjoyed camping, but in limited doses with amenities to make it comfortable. For Alex, baseball was a spectator sport with snacks. He was quiet, reflective, interested in art and science and computers, and wanted to learn everything. It was possible he’d have turned out differently growing up on a Montana ranch, but maybe not.
Schuyler’s shady, tree-lined streets should have been soothing, yet Kayla was still troubled when she arrived at her grandparents’ home. Uncle Pete and Granddad were in the backyard, scrubbing the barbecue grill. She waved before stepping into the kitchen and giving Grams a determined smile.
“Did you talk Alex into eating chicken again?” she asked casually.
“He’s wavering,” Elizabeth said. “He tells me it’s cheating, and real vegetarians don’t cheat. What made him stop eating meat?”
Kayla took salad makings from the fridge, grateful Grams hadn’t immediately asked about Jackson McGregor.
“Nothing dramatic. Two months ago, his church youth group visited a farm,” she explained. “They fed the calves, hunted for eggs and watched a baby lamb being born. He came home and announced he was now a vegetarian...and that the miracle of birth was really gross.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “How about DeeDee?”
“She wanted steak for dinner.”
“That’s our girl—a tough cookie when she wants to be.”
They worked in companionable silence while Kayla thought about the contrast between her kids. DeeDee loved animals, but she’d visited the same farm as her brother and had returned unfazed about the realities of animal husbandry.
So how would Alex react to another trauma? Hell, he’d run away after learning Curtis had adopted him. It would be awful if Alex got to know Jackson, only to think his birth father was disappointed in who he’d turned out to be.
Honestly, if Jackson hurt her son, she’d have his head.
“Take it easy, darling,” Grams said, breaking into her thoughts. “You’re slicing carrots, not pounding rocks.”
“Oh.” Kayla looked down at the cutting board and sighed. She swept the mangled carrots into the salad bowl. “I should speak with Alex. I’ll be back in a while.”
“No need. The only thing left is putting the meat and veggies on the grill, and they haven’t started the barbecue yet.”
To give him more privacy, Kayla took Alex for a walk and told him the details that she’d covered with Jackson. Predictably, he responded with further inquiries.
“I’ll ask any questions you really need answered,” she assured. “But don’t let them become a delaying tactic. A camping trip is a big commitment, so maybe having a quick meeting with Jackson here in Schuyler would help make you more comfortable with the idea.”
Alex kicked a pebble into the street. “I don’t know.”
“Promise me you’ll think about it. The longer you put off seeing him for the first time, the harder it’s going to be.”
“Okay.”
They returned to the house, where he promptly headed for the family room computer.
Since she wasn’t needed in the kitchen, Kayla went out to the hammocks. As a teen in Schuyler she’d spent hours in the backyard, reading or thinking. Even on hot days the shade was deep and comfortable.
She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of warm canvas and grass. There was no simple solution for her worries about Alex. All she could do was watch and listen. And remain vigilant with regard to Jackson.
Kayla put a toe down on the grass and sent the hammock swaying.
In many ways Jackson McGregor had cleaned up his act since high school. By all accounts he worked hard, was honest and ran his ranch well. Plainly he didn’t live like a monk, but he remained a determined bachelor who avoided women with marriage on their agenda.
But she obviously wasn’t the only one to find his attitudes abou
t women to be dated. Cora had called him a caveman, though it hadn’t bothered her enough to stop flirting with him, so finding casual partners probably wasn’t a problem for Jackson. And it couldn’t only be because he was so ruggedly handsome—part of the attraction had to be his dark, angry reserve and the feminine urge to be a reformer.
Damn.
This wasn’t helping. Determinedly closing her eyes, Kayla tried to focus on the sway of the hammock and clear her mind of everything else.
* * *
MORGAN STUDIED THE instant message Alex had sent her on Facebook. His mom and her dad had talked about the camping trip and he was thinking he might go. She messaged back. Could be fun. Do you like camping?
Yeah. We take a trip every summer to a different national park. Last year we went to Crater Lake.
Geography wasn’t her best subject. Never heard of it.
It’s a lake in the middle of a mountain where a volcano was. So much rock blew out from underneath that the top fell back inside. Oops, gotta go, Mom’s calling.
Morgan rested her chin on her hand and thought about it. That was how she sometimes felt, as if everything had blown up and she was going to fall back into the strange empty place inside.
Everything was messed up and she didn’t know how to fix it.
* * *
THE NEXT DAY Jackson rode north on Thunder to check on an injured cow his cowhands had found and doctored. He trusted his men, but lately he’d spent less time than usual working the ranch, and he needed to feel as if he was accomplishing something. It certainly didn’t seem as if he was getting anywhere with Morgan or Kayla.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Earlier that morning Kayla had reluctantly shared her electronic family albums on the portable hard drive he’d given her.
When he returned to the house, Flora called him into the kitchen. “Any chance you could hang out at the pool for a while?” she asked. “Morgan wants to swim, but I’m going into town and can’t sit with her. Now she’s sulking.”
One of the rules Jackson had made was that Morgan couldn’t be in the swimming pool without an adult present. He had threatened, entirely seriously, that he’d bulldoze it full of dirt and plant petunias if she ever swam unattended.
