by Mary Manners
“Sometimes plans don’t turn out exactly the way we imagine.”
“You can say that again.”
But Jace didn’t. Seemed Addy’s late husband had planned a lot of things that failed to come to fruition. Jace settled back in the chair and decided to tackle the cookie once more…very carefully. He reached for it as he asked, “So, what did he do?”
“He?” Addy cringed as she watched him tap the sweet disc on the table, debating whether or not he wanted to take the chance on losing a tooth. “You mean Mack?”
“No, your son…Garrett.”
“Oh, you mean at school.” A breath of air whooshed out as she glanced through the window over the sink, her gaze drifting to the cross posts at the foot of the drive. “He got in a fight in the cafeteria, dumped his tray over another boy’s head after he shot a few choice words—I’m not proud of such language, by any stretch if the imagination—at the classmate and bloodied the same poor boy’s nose.”
“Poor boy?” Jace could bet the offending kid was anything but a poor boy, judging by how riled Garrett had been. “Why did Garrett resort to that?”
“Does it matter?”
“It does in my book. Judging from what you’ve told me about your son, he must have had good reason to do such a thing.”
“I don’t know. I tried to get to the bottom of things but he wasn’t very…specific.”
“Hmm…” Jace dunked the cookie in his coffee, gave it a few seconds to soften as he continued, “So I take it Garrett has a pretty mean right hook.”
“I hardly think bloodying another boy’s nose and garnering a three-day suspension in the process is any sort of funny.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“You’re grinning.”
“I am?” Jace scrubbed his jaw. “I mean…I am. Sorry. But, like I said before, I’m sure the kid on the receiving end deserved it.”
“Regardless, Garrett’s suspended from classes for three days, starting tomorrow. He’ll have to make up all the work on his own, and take the tests he’s missed when he returns next week.”
“Harsh punishment.”
“It’s not his first offense here, but it’s his worst by a long stretch.”
“I see.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do…”
“That’s simple…work it out of him.”
“Work it out…how?”
“Look around.” Jace did a slow sweep of the kitchen. The wallpaper border might have been considered chic in the eighties, and he was sure the scuffed linoleum once sported a high-polished sheen. But now, with its wilting paper and dirt-smudged surface, the room could use a healthy dose of elbow grease. And that was just the beginning. Several of the fence posts beyond the garage needed to be reset and rewired. The yard around the house could use a mow, the overgrown bushes a trim. And Jace had also noticed upon his arrival that sections of the porch had curled and bowed beneath the weather; they’d need to be replaced—the sooner the better. “There’s plenty to do here.”
“Oh, right.”
“It’s just a start.” He drew a sip of coffee. “Are you planning on buying a few head of cattle?”
“I don’t know…I hadn’t thought…I don’t even know how to go about doing such a thing.” Addy’s lips dipped to a frown. “Mack was taking care of that. He didn’t much talk about it—at least not with me. He had a plan…”
Jace straightened in the chair, remembering that he’d had a plan, as well. It was his whole purpose for coming here today yet, for some reason he’d allowed himself to become sidetracked. Better reel it in and get back on course—and quick. He leaned in toward her, lowering his voice to a gentle murmur. “Addy, if you’re looking to sell—”
“I’m not.” Addy shook her head firmly as she twisted a napkin between her fingers. “I’m not going to sell. I have no plans to return to Chicago. That’s it—end of story. Please don’t suggest such a thing again.”
“Fair enough.” Jace nodded slightly and tucked the idea into his back pocket. He’d give his offer time to sink in and maybe, down the line, she’d give it some consideration. “Chicago, huh? Yeah, all that concrete and traffic—I can see how it’s a real draw for some people.”
“It used to be, for me. But I’m not going back. I can’t.”
“I heard you loud and clear the first time.”
“Did you? Because if you’ve come here today with the sole intention of trying to buy my home out from under me—”
“Now wait just a minute.” Jace tossed the cookie back onto its napkin. “Don’t you assume to know me or my intentions. I’m here because…”
“Because I need a friend, right, and you just happened to be passing by.”
“That’s right. And if you’re planning to stay then you’ve got your work cut out for you here. Garrett can help. Now is as good a time as any for the two of you to start putting a dent in things before they get so far out of hand there’s no turning back. The work isn’t getting done on its own. I can take a look around, help you make a list and even loan you a few of my men to help you get started—”
“That’s not necessary. I already have a list that’s a country mile long, thank-you-very-much, and I can manage just fine on my own.”
“Yeah, I see that. You’ve done a stellar job so far.” Jace snatched up the cookie once again, bit off a chunk, and chewed slowly against the stale flavor to stave off any further remarks along his line of thinking. The last thing he wanted was to get booted from Addy’s kitchen with her son still missing. With his city roots, the kid was apt to end up sprawled in the creek or tumbled head-first into a ravine. “Is it true, what Garrett said? Have you been putting off my mom when she stops by for a visit?”
“I have my reasons. I don’t mean to seem ungrateful for the company, but I haven’t felt much like talking to anyone lately.”
“You’re talking to me.”
“That’s different.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” Addy shrugged. “It just is. Today’s events have launched me into a tailspin. Garrett’s right, my behavior since Mack died has been less than exemplary. I’ve shut him out—shut your mom out—and if anything happens to Garrett…”
“Garrett will be fine. But Mom, well…here’s a fair warning that you won’t succeed in putting her off forever. She hasn’t managed decades of ranch-hands over the course of her life without a stubborn streak that runs a mile wide. She’ll wear you down, eventually, and have her way with you.”
“I can be stubborn, too.” Addy’s lips bowed, revealing the slightest dimple at the right corner of her mouth that Jace was beginning to find familiar. He fought the urge to stroke the soft stretch of dusky skin with his finger.
“Yes, I see that.” The duo of female wills would present quite a showdown, for sure. Jace planned to hang around for a front seat at the fireworks. “Anyway, I can use—”
His cell phone jangled and Jace reached into his pocket to silence the interruption. A quick glance at the caller ID told him the call came from the ranch foreman, Sam, which indicated it had a good chance of holding importance. He jabbed a key to connect.
“Jace, here. Talk.”
“You’d better get down here quick, boss.” Sam’s gruff voice came over the line. “We have a situation that I think you’ll want to take a look at.”
****
“Can you ride?” Jace asked as he disconnected from the call and lifted his gaze to capture Addy’s. Concern shadowed his eyes.
“A horse?” A stab of fear pierced Addy as she considered the mottled creature poised at the foot of the porch steps. The animal stood huge, its head even with the top of the porch rail. How did they measure a horse’s size…in hands, wasn’t it? Well, the one upon which Jace had arrived had to reach record-book size. A shiver coursed through. “I’ve never…”
“It’s OK. I’ll help you but you have to put on some shoes first, and I don’t mean those flip-flops. They won’t do you a
ny good in the stirrups or bouncing over the uneven pasture terrain between your house and mine.” Chair legs screeched as Jace stood. “Surely you own a pair of boots.”
She did. Or, at least she had owned some. Mack had bought her an expensive pair, meant more for show than wear, and he’d surprised her with them upon their arrival here. She’d worn them a time or two, but they pinched her toes and nipped at her calves, so, in a fit of rage following his death, Addy had tossed them into the fireplace and watched them flare up in a flash-fire of smoke like so many of her dreams.
“Come on, get moving.” Jace’s rushed voice drew Addy back. “We don’t have time to waste.”
“Is it Garrett?” Addy’s breath caught and her heart leapt straight to her throat as his gaze affirmed her suspicions. “Oh, my goodness, Garrett!”
“He’ll be OK. Come on, Addy.” Jace grabbed her hand and gave her a gentle tug. “Focus…shoes…”
Addy found a pair of tennis shoes sitting alongside the couch and tugged them on before following Jace onto the porch. The horse he’d ridden waited patiently at the base of the steps where Jace had left it, apparently unflustered by their harried demeanor.
Addy gaped at the beast. Good grief, the thing was huge. And loose. Jace hadn’t bothered to tether it to the porch rail the way she’d seen in every western movie she’d watched.
“Why…” The word lodged in her throat, coated with sandpaper. “Why didn’t he run off while we were inside?”
“Not he, she…Skye. She’s an Appaloosa mare.” Jace tapped one stirrup, urging Addy to place her foot atop the metal rung. “And she’s been well-trained to follow a rider’s lead, that’s why she didn’t run off.”
“I’d rather drive.” Addy backpedaled toward the front door. “Just tell me where we’re headed. Can’t we take my car?”
“Riding is usually quicker along the ranch grounds than driving. You’ll figure that out soon enough.” Jace came after her. He lifted Addy and in one quick, smooth motion seated her firmly in Skye’s saddle, atop the horse’s back. “Hold onto the horn.” He tapped it for emphasis as he murmured to the horse in a voice smooth as satin, “Easy there, Skye.”
“Wait!” Addy gripped the elevated piece of metal like a lifeline as the horse sidestepped, jostling her. She squealed, “I’m going to fall.”
“I won’t let you fall.” In one, seamless motion Jace swung a leg over Skye’s back and settled in easily behind Addy. He wrapped his arms firmly around her waist and gathered the reins. “I’ve got you. Just settle back against me. Relax, Addy. Here we go.”
Jace felt warm against her, and the slightest click of his tongue sent the mare into motion.
Addy gasped and held tight as the ground convulsed beneath her. She’d been on a horse only one other time in her life, when she’d gone camping with her church youth group at the age of sixteen. That ride was short, calm, and led by an expert horseman. This was more like being catapulted into the Wild West without a script—or a safety net. Fear fisted around Addy’s heart. “Please, Jace.”
“Easy…” His breath whispered warm along her ear as the breeze skimmed her cheeks and caused her hair to dance across her eyes. The scent of him, a blend of sweet pine and the grit of hard work, mingled with hay that stood damp at the roots from a week’s worth of rain. “Garrett might be in trouble. He needs us.”
Us…when did they become us?
“Oh, God…”Addy squeezed her eyes shut as the warmth of sunlight chased away the chill of fear. Suddenly she felt a surge of strength that had been missing for months. “Go faster, Jace. Please. We need to get to Garrett quick. He needs me. All that matters now is that my son needs me.”
6
“Hang on, Garrett, we’re coming,” Jace hollered as they approached the kid. Jace could hardly believe his eyes; Garrett stood thigh-deep in a mud pit with his arms wrapped around the hindquarters of a bawling calf. The murky liquid had seeped through his jeans and splattered his T-shirt, completely occluding the graphics.
At least the calf was bawling; that meant its lungs were still properly working and that it had the energy to express its fear. Shock had not yet set in—at least for the animal.
Garrett was another matter. Mud matted his hair, turning the blondish-red to a mottled shade of gray. His face, where it hadn’t been spattered like an example of modern art, shone a pasty-white. It was obvious that the exertion of keeping the calf’s head above the mud was quickly taking its toll. How long had they been mired there?
“Garrett, let go.” Addy commanded in a rushed, frantic tone Jace hadn’t heard from her before. He figured her Mom gears were firing on all cylinders by now. It had taken them ten or fifteen minutes to fly over the ridge; shorter than normal since Skye was more than comfortable with the route and could navigate it almost by rote. Skye was a creature of habit and Addy had settled in a few minutes into the ride, and though her shoulders felt stiff with worry beneath Jace’s hands, her posture rode relaxed as if she’d rested in the saddle since birth. She proved a natural; Jace could feel it, but even so he was sure the ride, from Addy’s perspective, seemed to take an eternity.
The recent week-long bout of rain had taxed the patience of the ranch hands as it saturated the ground to the point that low-lying areas stood waterlogged. The dour weather had an upside, though…it gave Jace a pretty good idea of what areas could benefit from a dump truck or two of fill dirt. He’d get on it first thing in the morning, but for now, there was a calf—and a kid—who needed his help.
“No, Mom.” Garrett huffed out a breath as he repositioned his grip on the animal. “I’ve got him. I just need a little help.”
“I’m coming, son. Hang on.” Jace slipped from Skye’s back, and then, before he had a chance to turn back for her, Addy scrambled from the saddle to join him. Her face had gone a stark shade of white, her cheeks pale against the dusky pallor of her eyes.
“Garrett, I’m not going to say it again. Come out of there,” she ordered, jabbing a finger at the air. “Now.”
“I can’t. I’ve got a hold of him.” Garrett shook his head and mud spattered the bank. “If I let go, he’ll drown in this mess.”
“Please, Garrett.” Addy pressed a fist to her mouth as she rushed toward the pit, her eyes filling with tears. Her expression shredded Jace’s heart. “If anything happens to you…”
“Nothing will happen to him.” Jace assured her as he surveyed the situation, deciding quickly on a course of action. “I won’t let Garrett get hurt. Don’t fret, Addy.”
“I heard the ruckus and walked down to take a look-see.” Jace’s gaze swept to his mom who stood at the side of the hole, wiping her hands along the apron tied around her waist. She was slight in stature, barely five-and-a-half-feet on a good day when the arthritis in her back wasn’t acting up and little more than a hundred pounds soaking wet. But she remained one of the strongest women Jace had ever known. Now, she was fired up, judging by the gleam in her summer-gray eyes. She worked her fists into the apron draped at her waist. “You can imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon these two huddled together in the mud. Lindy here phoned Sam right away, but he’s clear across the property at the South ridge, working the fence line. It would take him at least an hour to get back here.”
Lindy, Sam’s thirteen-year-old daughter, pulled up short as she joined them. “My dad’s on his way, but it’ll take a while, Jace.” She brushed fawn-red curls from her eyes. “Is he gonna be OK?”
“Yeah, your dad called me. That’s how we knew to come, and Garrett’ll be just fine.”
“Garrett?” She stepped closer to the pit. “Garrett Shaw?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” The kid nodded slightly, refusing to let loose of the calf. “Hey, Lindy. How’s it going?”
“I should be asking you.” She propped her hands on her hips and leaned toward him. “Does bad luck follow you?”
“Sort of, I guess.” His teeth shone white against his mud-splattered lips. “Stay back, Lindy. I don’t want
you to fall in, too.”
“You two know each other?” Jace asked as he reached into the saddle bag draped over Skye’s back and withdrew a length of rope.
“Yeah.” Garrett’s words were clipped as the effort of holding the calf took its toll. “This is Lindy Sanders…we’re in the same homeroom and we have English and science together.”
“Oh…right. But I thought you didn’t have any—” Addy caught herself at Jace’s gentle nudge. “Sorry, strike that. It’s nice to meet you, Lindy.” She offered a hand. “I’m Addy…Garrett’s mom.”
“Hi. Is it OK if I call you Addy? My dad says it’s more respectful to address adults by their surname unless they give me special permission to do otherwise.”
“That’ll work.” She nodded. “Addy, it is. Now, Garrett—”
“I’m on it.” Jace said as he fashioned a length of rope into a wide loop and cinched it with a neat slip knot. He rounded the pit to close the distance between him and Garrett at the narrowest edge of the rim. “Catch, Garrett.”
As Garrett glanced up, Jace tossed the rope his way. The kid let go of the calf with one hand long enough to snatch the loop as it sailed toward his head.
“Good…that’s good.” Jace held firmly to the opposite end of the rope. “Now wrap the loop around the calf’s neck. It won’t hurt him.”
“Like this?” Garrett tried to position the rope, but the first attempt knocked him flat on his back when he lost his balance. He tumbled back into the mud.
“That’s OK.” Jace crouched low and quickly cut some of the slack in the rope as Garrett came up sputtering. “Try again. You’ll get it.”
“Give me a minute.” Garrett swiped flecks of mud from his eyes as he struggled to apply a firm hold on the calf once more. The kid was as strong as he was stubborn.
Jace waited a moment before giving the rope another toss.
Garrett snatched the loop and secured it over the frightened animal’s head. “Is this good?”
“That’s perfect. Good.” Jace nodded. “Now stabilize your footing the best you can, and then on the count of three give him a good, sturdy push while I pull. Don’t let up, OK?”
