“I have family in town for a wedding that took place last night. Most of them are leaving this afternoon, and I have relatives that I could stay with...”
“Oh, no. Please don’t!” Summer looked slightly horrified by the offer. “If you leave, Jarrett will never forgive me.”
“I’ll be leaving soon enough anyway,” Theresa said, a reminder far more for herself than for Summer.
“But not on my account,” the other woman argued, the speculative look in her eyes making Theresa wonder how much she and Jarrett had given away the night before.
Eager to change the subject, Theresa said, “Jarrett mentioned that you’re from Georgia?”
Summer nodded. “Born and raised outside of Atlanta.”
“And Jarrett?” Theresa instantly bit her tongue, but the words she had no intention of saying were already out.
Summer laughed as if she knew at least part of what Theresa was thinking. “Not born and raised in the South. When my mama was married to Jarrett’s daddy, they lived all over the place—Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, New Mexico.”
What was that like, Theresa wondered, for Jarrett as a child? Was the somewhat transient childhood the reason for the distance she sometimes sensed?
It’s not easy for me to let someone take care of me.
Had that constant uprooting during his childhood taught him he could only rely on himself? The questions only reminded her how little she did know about Jarrett. Too little to have gotten so carried away the night before. And while she didn’t want to pump Summer for information, the younger woman was all too ready to share. “After they got divorced, my mama married my daddy and a year later I was born.”
Guessing Summer to be in her early twenties, Theresa figured Jarrett must have been very young when his parents divorced. From what he had told her of his past, he’d been close to his father. But he hadn’t mentioned his mother. At all.
“Growing up, Jarrett used to spend summers with us. At least he did until he turned eighteen. After that, well, I guess since he was an adult, no one could make him.”
Shocked, Theresa asked, “You haven’t seen him since he was eighteen?”
“No, he came back after, but...” Summer’s voice trailed away, and she dropped her gaze, looking for the first time as if she’d revealed too much. She gave a small laugh. “Looking back, I’m surprised he came for those summer visits at all. He never was real good at doing things he didn’t want to do.”
As Summer gave Duke a final pat and glanced around at the rest of the stables, she said, “He was in the rodeo, did you know that?”
Theresa nodded, at once relieved and disappointed that this bit of information was something Jarrett had already shared with her. “A bull rider, yes. He told me.”
“I saw him ride once.” A hint of awe filled Summer’s voice—like a teenage girl who’d had the chance to see the hottest pop star in concert. “He was competing in Jacksonville, and I told my parents I was spending the weekend with a friend. You should have seen him, Theresa. I know the ride didn’t last more than a few seconds, but it was like I’d watched it in slow motion. It didn’t seem possible for him—for anyone—to hang on to a bull twisting every which way. But he did. He won that day, and I was there to see it,” she added with pride, as if her presence had somehow contributed to the victory.
“Of course, I ended up getting caught by my parents. And then I got in even more trouble when I refused to tell them where I really went that weekend.” Her ponytail flipped over her shoulder as she glanced at Theresa with a smile. “But it was worth it.”
“Seeing Jarrett?” Theresa asked. “Or sneaking away without your parents knowing where you were going?”
Summer laughed. “Both, I suppose!”
“Do they know where you are this time?”
Both women jumped at the sound of the masculine voice at the doorway to the stables. Summer made a face as she turned to look at her brother. “Yes, they know. Not that I’m a kid anymore or need to tell them where I’m going.”
“I bet your father wasn’t too happy about it, though, was he?”
Ignoring that, Summer said, “Mama thought it was a great idea. In fact, as soon as you have another cabin ready, she’d love to come visit—”
“Forget it, Summer.”
His sister sighed, disappointed but undaunted as she pressed on, “All right. But at least let me stay. I can help. I know I can. I have my inheritance from Gram Carrington, and I’ve been wanting to do something good, something important with the money, J.T.—”
But Jarrett’s expression hardened, his gaze turning cold. “If you want to stay, stay. But I don’t want your money, Summer. I don’t need it.”
Grabbing hold of the reins, he led Duke out of the stable. The echo of his words and the strike of the horse’s hooves on the concrete lingered in the silence left behind.
Summer heaved a breath “That went about as well as I expected.”
“I’m sorry, Summer,” Theresa said, aching and angry at the hurt she saw in the younger woman’s face. “He’s just...”
“He’s my brother,” she filled in when Theresa’s frustrated words trailed off. “You don’t need to explain him to me.”
Maybe not, but Jarrett certainly needed to explain himself. Marching after him, Theresa ignored Summer’s pleas to stop. How could he be so cold when all his sister wanted to do was help? How could he just turn his back and walk away as—as Michael had turned his back and walked away from her?
She stepped out of the dimly lit stable and squinted against the morning sunlight. Blinded by the glare...by the memories.
All she’d wanted was a chance to help Natalie—to help all three of them—heal after the accident. She’d desperately wanted to believe something good could come from the tragedy. That they would pull together as a family and be that much stronger for overcoming this hurtle life had thrown in front of them.
I don’t want your help, Theresa. Don’t you think you’ve done enough already?
Her eyes adjusted well enough for her to see Jarrett crouched beside Duke, checking the horse’s shoe, but the ache was still there, low in her gut, and she crossed her arms at her waist as she approached him. “All she’s looking for is a chance, Jarrett. Why can’t you give her that?”
Letting go of the horse’s leg, Jarrett stood and brushed his hands against his denim-covered thighs. “I don’t need her help. I started this rescue on my own with my inheritance. I don’t need her family’s money.”
“This isn’t about helping you with the horses. Can’t you see that?” Lowering her voice as she stepped closer, she said, “Summer is your family! She wants to be a part of your life. She loves you and—”
“She’s a spoiled rich kid with too much time on her hands. You heard her back there. She’s got more money than she knows what to do with, so she thinks she’s going to turn me into her latest charity case. She’ll be bored out of her mind in a few days, and she’ll be taking her big ideas and her big bank account back to Atlanta. Which is exactly where she belongs.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I don’t know that? What do you know about any of this, Theresa? This isn’t your family.”
Theresa flinched. His words stung her heart, but a part of her still wanted to stand firm. To fight back and argue that he was wrong. If he would just open his eyes and see how much Summer cared—
How much she cared...
But Theresa already made that stand before. She’d pushed with Michael, always wanting more than he’d been willing to give, always trying to be a bigger part of his world, only to end up left behind and forgotten as he moved on without her. For far too many years, she’d chased after him, settling for crumbs of affection when her heart and soul were starving for the whole cake.
Not again. Never a
gain.
“You’re right. It’s none of my business. After all, I’m nothing but a guest here. I won’t make the mistake of forgetting that again.”
Chapter Twelve
The whine of the drill cut off as Jarrett sank the final screw into another piece of drywall. He wished he felt some sort of satisfaction, but it was one piece when he had who knew how many left to go. And after the drywall, he still had to patch the screw holes, tape the seams and finish off the corners. Then there was baseboard to install, and the walls to prime and paint.
Your idea, remember? his conscience taunted. He’d instructed Drew Pirelli to leave the cabins unfinished. The contractor’s crew had built the exterior and completed the plumbing and electricity, but Jarrett had wanted to put the final touches on the structures himself.
He was not rushing to finish so his half sister would have a place to stay. The work needed to be done if he wanted all of the cabins up and running by the beginning of spring as he’d planned. He’d let himself get behind and needed to take advantage of the free time he had.
Thanks to Summer.
He’d known his half sister was good with horses. She’d been riding her daddy’s world-class Thoroughbreds since she could walk. He also knew George Carrington hired the best trainers and stable hands money could buy to handle the dirty work. He was sure Summer was never expected to saddle her own mount—let alone grab a shovel and muck out the stalls.
But as he’d overheard the other morning, his little sister evidently liked doing the unexpected.
When he’d bluntly refused her offer of help, he’d thought that would be the end of it. That Summer would stay a day or two, realize how bored she was without her friends around and so far removed from any kind of nightlife or shopping to keep her occupied, and head back to Atlanta.
Instead, she’d been at the stables every day, helping care for the horses, laughing with Chloe and charming everyone who came for trail rides or lessons. She’d brought a camera with her and took pictures of every guest astride their horse. She had a running list of email addresses so she could forward the photos along with updates about goings-on at the Rockin’ R, a great idea Jarrett wished he’d thought of.
She worked hard and seemed determined to prove...something.
I saw him ride once.
The drill’s high-speed motor drowned out all sound around him, but nothing was loud enough to block the echo of his sister’s words. He’d had no idea she’d snuck away to see him ride. The events were usually too packed for him to spot a single face in the crowd, and she hadn’t tried to track him down afterward. Probably because she knew how he’d react.
He swore as he sank the next screw too far into the drywall. Dammit, he shouldn’t feel guilty about this! Summer had shown up out of the blue. What did she expect?
All she’s looking for is a chance. She wants to be a part of your life.
He felt another swift kick in the gut when he remembered the wounded look in Theresa’s blue eyes. He’d hurt her, and that was the last thing he wanted to do, but she couldn’t possibly know how hard it was for him to be around Summer. How just the sound of her voice could jerk him twenty-plus years into the past. To a time when it had been his mother’s sweet, Southern drawl saying his name.
J.T., honey, what’d ya’ll do in school today?
J.T., wash up for dinner now.
Don’t worry about that nasty nightmare, J.T. I’m right here...
And then the silence. His mother’s voice was gone. She was gone, and that was the end of the boy he’d once been.
It wasn’t Summer’s fault that she sounded like their mother or that she looked almost exactly like Lilly at that same age, Jarrett knew, thanks to the dozens of photos his father had from their brief marriage. Photos Ray had refused to throw away even though they were all that remained of the woman he’d loved. The woman who’d walked away and left everything—including those photos—behind.
He would have just as soon forgotten all about her, the way she’d forgotten him, but it didn’t work that way. At least not according to lawyers and judges and courts of law. To this day, he wasn’t sure who his mother had been trying to punish with those mandatory summer visits—herself or him. Only thing he knew is that they were all miserable during those months.
Except maybe Summer. She’d always welcomed him with a sunny smile, oblivious to the resentment and tension that filled the air along with the 90 percent humidity.
He set the drill aside and reached for another large rectangle of drywall. A spasm ripped across his back at the sudden movement. His breath caught in his lungs on what would have been a curse if he’d been able to get the word out. Instead, everything in his body tightened, every muscle seizing and turning to stone.
Working too hard...Theresa had warned him. But he was going to get these cabins finished, and he was going to do it on his own. His own blood, sweat and tears, he thought, wishing that was more a turn of phrase than a reality. And with his own damned money.
I only want to help, Summer had told him again after apologizing for her offer. And maybe she did, but her help came with too many strings attached to her daddy’s fat wallet, and Jarrett had sworn he would never take money from her old man again.
The pain started to ease to a level that at least made movement possible, and he slowly pushed away from the wall. Each motion was slow and tentative as he waited for the lightning-quick spasm to strike again. He sank down against the sawhorse and leaned forward, trying to take some of the pressure off his spine and stretch out the muscles that had made their protest to the hard work known in such spectacular fashion.
After a while, all that remained was the dull ache he’d gotten used to over the years. A reminder of the past and of a life he’d left behind. Maybe he’d eventually get used to the other pain, too—the one in his chest whenever he thought of Theresa.
She hadn’t been down to the stables since their argument, and her absence made him realize how quickly he’d gotten used to seeing her every day. How he’d looked forward to hearing her voice as she greeted each of the horses with a gentle word and a soft stroke along their muzzles.
And for the first time, instead of thinking of the time he and Theresa had to spend together before she left, Jarrett started to think about the time he’d have to spend alone once she was gone.
* * *
Theresa wanted to deny how her heart leaped at the knock on the door, but the rapid pounding—in her chest, not at the door—made it impossible. She hadn’t seen Jarrett since the day at the stables, and she’d started to wonder if they would talk again before she left. Every time she pictured handing over the keys to the cabin and having him thank her for her stay, her throat started to ache with unshed tears.
But she’d told herself she wouldn’t push, wouldn’t chase after him the way she had—emotionally, at least—with Michael. It would be up to Jarrett to make the next move...
She tossed aside the book she’d been trying to read and forced herself to walk slowly to the door. She even took a moment to smooth her sky-blue sweater over her denim-clad hips before opening the door.
“Hi!” Summer’s bright smile held a hint of uncertainty. “I’m not bothering you, am I? I mean, you’re a guest, and Jarrett would kill me if he knew I was here...”
All the more reason to welcome his sister inside as far as Theresa was concerned. Hiding her disappointment behind a smile, she said, “You’re not bothering me at all. I was just reading, but I’d much rather have some company.”
Relief brightened the younger woman’s eyes. “Oh, good. After spending the last few days at the stables, I’d really love to talk about something other than horses.”
“Come on in.”
Summer looked around the small cabin as she stepped inside. “I was wondering what these cabins would look like inside
. After seeing Jarrett’s bedroom, I was kind of worried. Now I see I had good cause.”
Trying not to think about how close she’d come to seeing the inside of Jarrett’s bedroom the other night, Theresa still felt the need to defend the sparsely furnished cabin. “You have to remember this is the first cabin he’s rented out and...”
Summer plopped down on the uninspired green couch. “Do you really think the others will be any better?”
Probably not, Theresa realized. “I don’t think the people who stay here will want to spend much time inside, not when they have a chance to go hiking or fishing or riding.”
“I’m sure you’re right, which makes me wonder why you haven’t been to the stables. Chloe said you were down there every day until I showed up.”
“Sounds like you and Chloe have been talking about more than horses.”
The young woman’s grin was anything but repentant. “You and my brother might have come up in conversation.” Her smile faded, though, as she said, “Jarrett’s been miserable the past few days. At first, I thought he was still upset that I’d shown up, but now I think it’s because he misses you.”
Theresa wished she could believe that were true, but his absence spoke louder than his sister’s hopeful words.
Reading the doubt in her gaze, the younger woman sighed. “Just think about it,” she said. “Jarrett’s not the type to make the first move when it comes to building bridges.”
And Theresa wasn’t willing to repeat the past, to be the one making all the moves.
Changing the subject, she asked, “Have you had a chance to see any of the town yet?”
“Just what I saw driving through, but I love all the Victorian buildings.”
“There are a lot of fun little shops.” Theresa hadn’t missed the designer labels on the other woman’s clothes—even the jeans and hoodie sweatshirt she wore today. “No big brand names, but some places to buy cheesy souvenirs, artwork and handcrafts made by the locals. And my cousin is the manager of a great antiques store on Main Street.”
Romancing the Rancher Page 13
