by Lois Richer
“Oh, Marjorie, you need some manners.” Casey’s rapt adoration turned on Kent. “Thank you very much, Mr. Kent.”
“You’re welcome, honey. Just take care of her.”
“I will.” Casey cuddled the puppy under one arm.
Kent sat in the corner next to a bemused Oreo, content to watch as Jaclyn helped Carissa serve the usual birthday fare. Cooking in this kitchen always made him feel like he was ruining Lisa’s perfection. Today he’d seen how the room should feel and sound. It was not a memory he’d quickly forget.
The cake appeared, candles glowing. Kent joined in the singing when Jaclyn shot him a look. Then he savored every bite of the delicious chocolate cake.
“Seconds?” Jaclyn asked.
“I’d better not. I’m like Marjorie Rose—too many sweets aren’t good for me.”
“Oh, live a little,” Jaclyn urged and plopped an oversize section on his plate. “I’ll do CPR if you have cardiac arrest.”
“Do I look like I’ll have a heart attack?” He was indignant at the suggestion.
“You make it so easy,” she teased.
“The sun is shining again,” Carissa said. “Why don’t we take Marjorie Rose outside and you kids can play with her?”
Kent could have pointed out that the dog would get dirty and have to be bathed. But instead, he followed the ladies outside, sat in one of his mom’s favorite lawn chairs and enjoyed the laughter of the kids—almost as much as he enjoyed his second piece of cake.
“This has been such a lovely day. Thank you, Kent.” Carissa’s eyes grew moist. “Casey will never forget this birthday.”
“Glad to help,” he said, smiling.
Casey wasn’t the only one who wouldn’t forget today.
Suddenly Kent jumped out of his chair and raced across the grass as fear clamped a hand around his heart. One of the kids had used his barbecue lighter to set fire to some twigs.
“Kent?” Jaclyn said from behind him. He turned and she glanced from the lighter to his face, and took over. “That’s really dangerous, honey,” she told the child. “Fire can spread very easily when it’s so dry. Then it’s hard to put out.”
“But it was just raining,” the little girl protested.
“It didn’t rain much. The ground isn’t even muddy. The sun has dried it all up.” She ran her fingers over the ground to show the dust. “See? Fire is not for playing.”
“Okay.” She shrugged and rejoined the rest of the kids.
“Come on, Kent,” Jaclyn soothed as she took his arm. “Have another cup of coffee. Everything is fine.”
“Fine?” He turned on her, yanking his arm from her grasp. “That child could have been hurt and it would have been my fault.”
“Kids get into mischief. Nothing happened.” She’d turned her back so the others couldn’t see, her voice soft. “God gave us a lovely day and kept us safe. Let’s enjoy it.”
God kept them safe? Then why hadn’t God protected Lisa?
“Nothing happened, Kent.”
But Kent knew exactly how quickly things could change.
Casey’s party was the first and last that would ever happen on his ranch.
No matter what Jaclyn wanted.
Chapter Nine
“This is the last of them.” Kent set a tray of used dishes on the counter in the kitchen. “You don’t have to do this, Jaclyn. My housekeeper will clean it up tomorrow morning.”
“We’re not leaving this for her.” She kept working.
He gave a long-suffering sigh. “How can I help?”
“I can manage.”
“I know that, Doc. By now I expect everyone in Hope knows exactly how well you manage to do anything you set your mind to.” He grasped her shoulders and turned her to face him. “But since I’m here, we’ll do it together. Deal?”
She nodded as she shrugged out of his hold. “Deal.” Maybe working would take her mind off what had happened with the child and the lighter, and the strong urge she’d had to help Kent in that moment.
While she loaded the dishwasher, he wiped down counters, tables and chairs.
“Sorry I got so upset earlier,” he finally said. “I just saw that flame flickering and—”
“You remembered the fire and Lisa,” she finished. She fought not to look at him lest she be bowled over by his pain. “I guessed that’s what happened. It’s only natural. After all, you haven’t had a lot of people around since the accident, have you? Except for the potluck.”
His blue eyes met hers. “You don’t have to save my feelings, Jaclyn. I know I went over the top. But I couldn’t stand it if a child got hurt out here.”
She set the now-clean red utensils in the stainless-steel bucket on the counter then turned to face him.
“You think someone would blame you? Accidents happen, Kent. To everyone. We pick up and move on as best we can, but we can’t always prevent them.”
He raked his hand through his hair, sending the dark curls into further disarray. “It’s so terribly dry,” he mumbled, staring out the window.
“That’s in God’s hands. Not yours.”
“Well, it’s partly in my hands.” He looked away from her and fell into a brooding silence.
“What’s bothering you?” She sat down at the table and waited. “Talk to me, Kent. Is it about your cattle?”
“My cattle?” He frowned, his gaze confused as he studied her.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said about them. Can you not sell because cattle prices are low right now?”
“Not exactly.” He tapped his finger on the table.
“Then what?” She searched her mind for memories of his dad. “You said your father understood about you not wanting to stay on the ranch after high school.”
“He did.”
“Then why would he expect you to keep his animals? I think he’d want you to be happy.” Nothing about Kent’s reluctance made sense to her. “Wouldn’t building a sanctuary make you happy?”
“Yes.” His entire demeanor changed. “If I just had an area where the wild animals I treat could be free instead of confined to cages or stalls until I reintroduce them to the wild—” His voice drifted away.
“That sounds simple,” she reasoned.
“It’s far from simple.” His tortured voice told her the struggle went way beyond longhorn cattle.
“Because?” Jaclyn said softly.
“Because I owe my father.” Desperation laced his voice. “I owe a lot to Dad and Mom, and I want to honor that.”
She kept silent, waiting for him to continue, hoping she’d finally get an inkling as to why he felt so strongly about this.
“They loved me when no one else did.” Kent squeezed his eyes closed. “I’m adopted, Jaclyn. No one around here knows.” He got up, poured them each a glass of the lemonade his housekeeper had made and carried it to the table. He sat down, drained his own glass, set it on the table and looked directly at her.
“Heddy told me that the other day.” Jaclyn shook her head before he could ask. “I haven’t told anyone, but why is your adoption such a big secret?”
“My mom. She couldn’t have children. She always felt bad about it. Embarrassed, I guess. Like she’d somehow let Dad down.” A funny sad smile skittered across his lips. “It’s understandable given how crazy the McCloys were about the heir and oldest son thing—a son to carry on the legacy. I broke the chain. I disappointed them.”
“I doubt it.”
“About a year after they officially adopted me, we moved here. My grandparents were gone. We had no other family. As far as I knew they never told anyone I was adopted.” He shrugged. “That probably seems stupid to you.”
“Not at all. I can understand wanting to keep private information to your
self, though I imagine it was hard on you.”
“Me?” He blinked. “Why?”
“It’s kind of denying a part of yourself, isn’t it?” she asked. “You kept that secret from us, your friends. You couldn’t be open and honest about it.”
“I didn’t want to be honest about my birth mother abandoning me.” His mouth tightened. “Being adopted was the best thing to happen to me in my life and I repaid that by denying Dad his dream. All those years he’d talked about passing on the ranch to me.” Kent’s voice caught. When he looked at her, his blue eyes brimmed with sadness. “But he didn’t say a word to dissuade me. The morning after my announcement he was talking funding for college. My father gave me my dream, Jaclyn. Now it’s my turn to make his dream live.”
“Kent.” She reached out and laid her hand on his, waiting until he looked at her. “Cattle, longhorns—I doubt that’s what your father dreamed of for you.”
“It was all he ever talked about.” He stared at their hands and then entwined his fingers with hers.
“Maybe all he talked of to you. To everyone else it was ‘My son this and my son that.’” She smiled. “I talked to my dad the other evening. I told him you were mayor, and about all the things you’re doing to improve the town. Do you know what he said?”
Kent shook his head.
“He said, ‘Stan would be really proud of that boy. He used to say God brought the McCloys to Hope to make a difference. Kent is certainly doing that.’” She squeezed his fingers “That was your father’s dream, Kent. Not those cattle—they were just a game he played. You were what mattered to him, you and your integrity, the way you live your life. He taught you those things, didn’t he?”
Kent nodded. “Yeah.” His eyes glazed with memories. “Yes, he did.”
“Maybe at first he was disappointed you didn’t share his plans for the ranch. But once he saw the way you are with animals?” She shook her head. “I believe your dad wanted you to use that special gift you have and that’s why he made it easy for you to get to college.”
He bent his head to stare at their hands.
“Talk to anyone downtown, Kent. Go for coffee and ask them about your father. I guarantee every single person who knew him will tell you that next to you, those cattle came a distant second.” She smiled at him as another memory surfaced. “We used to be in awe of you and your parents, did you know that? The rest of us kids used to wish we were that close with our parents.”
“Yeah, we were pretty close. Dad used to say we were each other’s cheering section and backup team.” He closed his eyes.
“Exactly.” Jaclyn cleared her throat. “Now are you going to live up to his dreams—his real ones—or are you going to get sidetracked?”
She could sit here and watch him forever, she thought, but handsome was only part of Kent’s allure. He was strong, caring and determined to help everyone else. Here he was, ready to sacrifice his own dreams, as if they weren’t worth the same effort he put into helping Hope.
“How do you do it?” Kent asked when she’d sipped the last drop from her glass.
“Do what?”
“Find exactly the right words to say.” He leaned forward, brushed a strand of hair from her brow and peered into her eyes. “How did you know how to help me see what my dad was really about?”
She felt dazed by his touch. “Is that what I’ve done?”
He nodded, his face solemn.
“Well, maybe it’s because I believe God has a purpose for each of us. You already know what I think mine is.” She smiled. “Jessica’s clinic.”
“Like I needed to be told that.”
“What you need to be told is, figure out your own purpose, Kent. I’ve watched you with kids, animals, the people of Hope—you really care about them. You go out of your way to make their worlds better. That is what your dad taught you. That is his real legacy to you. Not the cattle.”
“See? You’re so smart.” He leaned forward and brushed her nose with a kiss. “Are you starving?”
Her insides melted at the kiss, innocent though it had been.
“How can you possibly be starving? You just ate a ton of cake,” she said, trying to pretend she’d barely felt a thing.
“It was delicious, but it was just cake.” He jumped up, strode to the fridge and peered inside. “Interested in a steak dinner, Doc? I’m cooking.”
“Really?” She leaned back to study him. “I didn’t realize you cooked.”
“Actually I grill.” Kent grinned. “Want to see?”
Jaclyn walked outside with him, marveling at the naturalness of his arm slung across her shoulders. He didn’t seem to notice she was short of breath. She tried to ignore the warning bells going off in her head.
“Well?” He stood before a huge stainless-steel outfit built into an outdoor kitchen which Jaclyn was pretty sure would make most men drool. “What do you think?”
“That is not a grill. That is restaurant equipment.” She had to step away from him in order to keep her thoughts together.
“My own personal restaurant. I’m pretty good with this.” He picked up a lifter and twirled it like a juggler, tossing it up then catching it with two fingers.
“Do I applaud now?”
“Not till after you eat.” Kent headed back into the house and began rummaging in the fridge.
Jaclyn stayed on the patio and searched for order in her chaotic thoughts. She was supposed to be avoiding him, but, oh, she wanted to stay and share a meal, to talk as they had been, open and honestly.
I have my work. I have the clinic. I have the committees. I don’t have time for Kent or any other man in my life.
The thing was, Kent was already in her life.
For so long she’d defined herself as a doctor, indebted to God and her parents, a single twin. Was it time to rework her definition?
“You’re not waiting to be served, are you?” Kent burst through the door bearing a huge platter with two steaks that flopped over the edges. “Because I was hoping you’d make a salad or something.” He paused in front of her and bent to look into her eyes, one brow arched upward in an unasked question. “What’s wrong?” he finally said.
“Nothing.” She smiled. “I’d love to make a salad. That’s one area in which I excel.” She stepped inside.
A minute later she heard him humming a new song they’d learned in church last week. Jaclyn smiled as she moved around the kitchen, finding what she needed to set the table on the patio. She made tea, put two scrubbed potatoes in the microwave and threw together a salad. In the freezer there was half a loaf of garlic bread which she wrapped in foil and placed in the oven on low to heat. As she worked, Jaclyn realized the kitchen was perfectly planned out to facilitate every task. Nothing was more than a few steps away.
Just beyond the window over the sink, red roses bloomed in profusion, adding another touch of color to the room. With a few lights on and the new accessories, the kitchen looked, almost welcoming.
Some shrunken apples lay in a crisper in the fridge. She peeled them, added cinnamon and placed them in the oven beside the bread.
“Something smells good in here.” Kent glanced around. “How rare do you like your steak?” His big grin made him look relaxed and happy.
“Not at all. This is to say—well done.” She quickly dissolved into giggles at his offended look. “I know, it’s the wrong thing to say to a rancher, but it’s true. Make it well done, please.”
“You mean ruin it.” His face morose, Kent returned to his grill.
As she tidied up, Jaclyn found an old candle stub in a drawer. But when she lit it, it made everything feel too intimate. She was about to blow it out when Kent set two huge plates on the table.
“Enjoy,” he said with a flourishing bow.
And she did. The food, the lau
ghter, the teasing and the unfamiliar pleasure of eating with someone you liked—it made her realize how isolated she’d been. The talk soon turned to some mutual high school friends.
“I think Brianna, Zac, Nick, Shay, you and I are the only ones who aren’t married.” Jaclyn regretted the words the moment she said them. “I mean, you were, of course. But—”
“It’s okay. I know what you mean.” He patted her hand. “But I don’t think it’s all that odd. You, Brianna and Shay were pretty career-minded. It’s hard to have it all.” He pushed away his dish, leaned back in his chair. “I should know.”
“What does that mean?” Night edged in around them and the rose bush filled the air with its intoxicating scent. “Is fixing the clinic getting to you?” she asked softly.
“Only because I can’t seem to get it done.” He sighed.
“And you want to? You’re sure?”
“Of course I want you to get in there, to have a real office. I want your patients lined up and waiting because I happen to think you have a lot to give this town.” He grimaced. “But that isn’t exactly what I meant.”
“What did you mean?” She never tired of the smooth, even cadence of his voice.
“There are so many things Hope needs and it’s up to me to get them done. People are counting on me. I can’t fail them.”
“I’m sure no one feels you have failed them,” she protested.
“I feel it.” He looked straight at her, his blue eyes unflinching. “I have a list of things I want to accomplish before my term is up and—don’t take this personally—but it’s about as long as it was two months ago.”
She frowned, intrigued by his comment. “What kinds of things?”
“Redoing the baseball diamond so it doesn’t look like our little league kids have been abandoned to a vacant lot, refinishing the stucco on the outside of the hospital, starting some kind of youth program so our kids have a place to go after school and in the evenings.”
“All of them sound achievable to me,” she said.
“Mostly I’d like to formulate an emergency measures plan.” His face tightened. A furrow formed between his brows. “If we have another wildfire, if the mine has a major incident, or if anything else disastrous happens, Hope is totally unprepared.”
