THE RANCHER'S SPITTIN' IMAGE

by Peggy Moreland

  His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Why? Are you ashamed for the boy to know that his father is half-Mexican?"

  Mandy's eyes filled with frustrated tears. "No, it isn't that. It's just that he's so young, he wouldn't understand."

  "What wouldn't he understand? That I'm his father or that his mother has kept that secret from him all these years?" Jesse took a threatening step closer. "Which is it, Mandy? Or has the boy never questioned his father's absence?"

  Mandy closed her eyes and pressed her trembling fingers to her temples. "He's asked questions," she murmured. "I explained his Spanish heritage to him, but I told him that his father died before he was born."

  "And I would be dead if Lucas's aim had been a little better."

  Mandy paled at the memory.

  "But I didn't die, Mandy," he reminded her. "I'm here and I'm going to claim my son whether you like it or not." He moved to his horse and swung up in the saddle. Folding his arms across the saddle horn, he leaned down, putting his face within a foot of Mandy's. "You've got twenty-four hours. You can pick the time and you can pick the place, but we're going to tell him. When you've made your decision, you can reach me at the bunkhouse on the Circle Bar."

  Having issued the ultimatum, Jesse swung his horse around in a tight circle, dug his spurs into the gelding's sides and galloped off, leaving Mandy staring after him in a cloud of choking dust.

  "Did you know he was my son?"

  Pete draped his bridle over a hook and turned to Jesse on a weary sigh. "I suspected as much, though I never knowed for sure. The McClouds are pretty tight-lipped about their personal affairs."

  "So no one knows?"

  Pete lifted a shoulder before dragging his saddle off his horse's lathered back. "Not long after you left, Lucas shipped Mandy off to stay with some cousin of his back east. She was gone more'n a year and when she come back, she had the boy in tow. Course he was nothin' but a baby then. Rumor was she'd had an affair with some man she'd met while she was gone and he'd died before he could give the kid his name."

  "And people believed the story?"

  "Why not? Nobody ever knew the two of you were sneakin' around behind Lucas's back, 'cept me."

  Jesse scowled at the mention of Lucas. "I didn't see him when I was over there, though I kept expecting to feel the barrel of his rifle pressed against my back."

  Pete looked up in surprise. "You mean Lucas?"

  "Yeah," Jesse muttered irritably. "Lucas."

  "Kinda' hard to do from the grave."

  Jesse jerked his head around to stare at Pete. "You mean Lucas is dead?"

  "Been gone nigh on twelve years now. Had a heart attack not long after the girl brought the baby home to the Double-Cross."

  Shocked by the news, Jesse could only stare. "If Lucas is gone, then who's running the place?"

  "Mandy. With the help of Gabe, of course."

  Jesse dropped down on a bale of hay, his legs too weak to hold him. Lucas was gone, had been for twelve years. Jesse dropped his head in his hands on a groan. If only he'd stayed, he told himself, instead of hightailing it out of town. Without Lucas there to keep them apart, maybe he and Mandy could have been together.

  No, Jesse, I can't.

  Mandy's refusal seared its way through his mind and he raked his fingers through his hair as if he could tear the words from his memory. Mandy was the one who had sealed the end of their relationship, he reminded himself. Not Lucas.

  He pushed himself to his feet. "I'm going to the bunkhouse," he muttered to Pete. "You coming?"

  Pete stared sadly at Jesse's retreating back. "Yeah, I'll be along as soon as I finish up here."

  "Maybe we should call Merideth," Sam offered quietly.

  Mandy whirled from the window and the darkness beyond. "And what could Merideth possibly do?"

  "Offer you a place to hide out. You should have gone to New York with her last week as she suggested, but it's not too late. You and Jaime could catch the next flight to New York and stay with her for a while. Jesse would never know to look for you there."

  "That would only be delaying the inevitable."

  "So you're going to tell Jaime the truth?"

  Mandy lifted her hands, palms up in supplication. "What other choice do I have? You know as well as I do that Jesse has legal rights to his son. Running away isn't going to stop him from exercising those rights."

  Sam blew out a long breath. "How will you explain all this to Jaime?"

  Mandy turned back to the window to stare out into the darkness beyond. "I don't know," she said wearily. "I just don't know."

  The phone number was easy to locate. After Sam went to bed, Mandy simply looked up the Circle Bar in the telephone directory and scanned the listings below until she found the bunkhouse. With shaking fingers, she punched in the number.

  Jesse answered on the third ring.

  At the sound of his sleepy voice, Mandy nearly lost her nerve. When he said "hello" a second time, she managed a faint, "Jesse?"

  "Yeah?"

  Nervously, she wound the phone cord around her hand. "I'd like to talk to you if I could."

  "Go right ahead," came his gruff reply. "I'm listening."

  Mandy wagged her head in frustration. "No, I mean in person. Could I meet you somewhere?"

  There was a long stretch of silence in which Mandy held her breath.

  "Where?" he finally asked.

  Sagging with relief, she frantically tried to think of some place for them to meet, somewhere neutral where they wouldn't be seen or their conversation overheard. Before she could come up with a location though, Jesse offered one of his own.

  "The glen. I'll meet you there at midnight."

  The line went dead before Mandy could refuse.

  Mandy had hoped to arrive before Jesse, needing time alone to face what had once been their secret meeting place. But he was there before her, lounging in the shadows on the trunk of a fallen oak tree, his hands stacked behind his head, his hat pulled low over his face as if he were sleeping. He'd pulled one knee up, bracing his foot against the trunk's crumbling bark. The opposite leg stretched lazily along the length of the ancient oak's trunk.

  In spite of the fact that this man held her son's fate in his hands, Mandy felt her heart constrict at the sight of him. He'd been her first true love … and her last. And though she'd tried desperately over the years to do so, she'd never been able to forget him.

  "Jesse?" she whispered softly, not wanting to startle him.

  "Yeah?" he muttered.

  Mandy twisted her hands at her waist, then, when she realized what she was doing, forced them apart. "I'm here."

  Dragging a hand from beneath his head, Jesse lifted the hat from his face and turned his head to peer at her. "So I see." He rolled to a sitting position and, without ever taking his eyes off of her, snugged the hat back into position on top of his head. "Are there any guns aimed at my back?"

  Her eyes widened in surprise. "Why, no! Of course not!"

  "Just making sure." He hauled himself to his feet and stood, stretching. "Where's Jaime?"

  "At home. In bed. I wanted to talk to you alone."

  He dropped his hands to his hips. "So talk."

  Mandy glanced nervously around, half expecting a ghost from the past to jump out at any moment and grab her.

  "Does being here alone with me bother you?"

  Mandy stiffened at the subtle taunting. "No," she lied. "Though I wondered why you'd choose here, of all places, for us to meet."

  Jesse pushed the black Stetson farther back on his head. Moonlight played over his features, revealing a sardonic smile tilting one corner of his mouth. "But this is where it all began, Mandy. This is where Jaime was conceived. To me it was the perfect place for us to discuss his future."

  He nodded toward the center of the glen, and Mandy turned to look behind her. Moonlight turned the green grass growing there silver and a soft caressing breeze carried the scent of honeysuckle to her nose.

  "Right there on tha
t flat section of ground," Jesse murmured, his voice like a caress on her back. "I'd spread a blanket and wait for you while you slipped out of your father's house under the cover of darkness and sneak through the woods to meet your Mexican lover."

  Tears filled Mandy's eyes and she tightened her fists at her sides to keep them at bay. Oh, please, Jesse, she cried silently. Please don't do this.

  But Jesse wasn't through with her yet. Mandy had hurt him when she'd chosen her father over him and he wanted her to feel the same pain he'd felt. He wanted her to bleed in the same way he'd bled. He took a step closer, hooked a finger in the strand of hair that shadowed her face and lifted it, dropping his lips to the bare skin he exposed on her neck.

  Shivers chased down Mandy's spine and she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to feel anything. But heat curled in lazy spirals to settle in a pool of long-suppressed need low in her abdomen.

  He lowered his hands to her shoulders and lightly squeezed, his breath hot and moist against the smooth column of her neck. "You'd burst through the shadow of the trees there, out of breath, your eyes bright with excitement, laughing as you fell into my arms. Do you remember, Mandy? Do you remember the words of love you whispered to me? Do you remember the promises you made?"

  "Yes," she whispered, not wanting the reminder, not needing it. The memories had haunted her sleep for years. "Yes, I remember."

  "They were lies, weren't they, Mandy?" he whispered, his fingers suddenly digging painfully into her shoulders. "All lies. Just like the lies you told my son."

  Mandy whirled, wrenching free of his grasp, unable to bear hearing any more. "What do you want from me?" she cried.

  "My son."

  "You can't have him!"

  "I don't want to take him from you, not if I can help it. I only want to share him with you and I can do that with or without your help."

  The threat was there, dousing Mandy's anger with icy water, and reminding her of her need to convince him to do this her way. "I know," she said, fighting to keep the tremble from her voice. "And I've thought about what you said earlier, about you wanting to tell Jaime you're his father. You're right," she rushed on before he could interrupt her. "You deserve to share in his life."

  "So what's the problem?"

  Mandy dipped her chin, finding it difficult to meet his dark, penetrating gaze. "It's just that—well, it's just that I'm not sure how Jaime will accept the news." She lifted her head, begging him with her eyes to understand. "Don't you see what a shock this will be to him?"

  "No more than it was to me when I discovered I had a son."

  "Yes," Mandy acknowledged, only now beginning to realize what a blow that must have been for Jesse. "But Jaime knows he has a father. He also thinks he's dead. Can you imagine how difficult it will be for him when you suddenly appear and claim to be his father? Have you considered the emotional impact on a boy his age?"

  "I didn't tell the boy that lie. You did."

  Mandy lifted her chin defensively. "Yes, but what choice did I have when he started asking questions? You weren't here and I had no idea where you were. It was easier to tell him his father was dead than to try to explain his absence."

  "So now you simply tell him the truth and admit you lied to him all those years."

  Mandy narrowed an eye at him, her anger simmering back to life beneath her skin. "Oh, I see what you're trying to do. You're trying to make me the guilty party in all this while you appear free of sin and full of righteous innocence." She turned, folding her arms beneath her breasts, and strolled away a few steps, then stopped, turning to look back at him over her shoulder. "Obviously, you haven't thought all this through very well. If you had, you would see how wrong you are."

  "Enlighten me," he said sarcastically.

  "Jaime will want to know why you weren't there when he was born. He will resent you for not being around when he was growing up. He might even hate you. Have you considered that, Jesse?"

  The fact that he hadn't was clear from his lack of response.

  "I didn't think so," she replied smugly.

  Jesse's mouth thinned to a grim determined line. "I'm not just going to disappear again, if that's what you're hoping. He's my son, too, Mandy. I have a right to share in his life."

  "I'm not trying to deny you that," she argued fiercely. "I'm just trying to do so in such a way that Jaime isn't hurt."

  "And what do you suggest we do?"

  "He needs to get to know you first, develop a relationship with you. Then we'll tell him."

  Jesse tossed up his hands. "And how in the hell am I supposed to develop a relationship with a boy twenty years younger than me? Besides, I'm a Barrister and he's a McCloud. It's unlikely our paths will cross."

  "I've thought about that and I think I've come up with a solution."

  Jesse eyed her suspiciously. "What?"

  "We have a stallion that no one on the ranch can handle. I can tell Jaime that I've hired you to break him. That will gain you admittance and explain your presence on the Double-Cross while giving you an opportunity to spend time with Jaime."

  Jesse looked at her incredulously. "And Jaime will believe you hired a Barrister to break a horse for you?"

  Mandy lifted her chin a notch higher. "He'll believe me. The rest will be up to you."

  Jesse sank down on the fallen tree trunk, dropping his face onto his hands, while Mandy waited for his answer, her breath locked tight in her lungs.

  At last he lifted his head to look at her. "When do I start?"

  * * *

  Three

  « ^ »

  Jesse was slow to put Mandy's plan into action. Not that breaking her stallion concerned him. It was the idea of trying to win the friendship of a twelve-year-old boy that had his knees shaking … especially when he considered the fact that that twelve-year-old boy was his son. He didn't have much experience with kids and knew even less about what it took to befriend one. But he had to do it, he'd told himself repeatedly, if he wanted to claim his son.

  All in all, it took him three days to get the nerve to make the drive to the Double-Cross. It was after noon on that third day when he drove his truck onto McCloud land and parked by the corral. Still a little nervous, but anxious to get things rolling, he shouldered open the door of his truck.

  Before his boots even hit the ground, he found himself surrounded by the wranglers of the Double-Cross. Their distrust was a palpable thing, their determination to protect both Mandy and the Double-Cross obvious in the hastily gathered weapons they held—a shovel, a pitchfork, a coil of rope. He thought he heard someone mutter "wetback" under his breath, but he ignored the racial slur.

  Defiantly, he stood his ground.

  "State your business," old Gabe demanded gruffly.

  Before Jesse could answer, Mandy was pushing her way through the circle of men that surrounded him. "Hello, Jesse," she said in greeting, letting her men know by her welcome that Jesse was an invited guest on the Double-Cross. "I hope you're ready to start on that stallion."

  "Yes, ma'am, I am," he returned without taking his gaze off the men, who continued to eye him suspiciously.

  "Good. He's in the barn. If you'll follow me, I'll show you where you can find him."

  Jesse reached inside his truck and grabbed his hat from the seat and shoved it down hard on his head. Slamming the door behind him, he stood and waited until the wranglers grudgingly shifted, creating an opening wide enough for him to pass through. But as he followed Mandy, he felt ten sets of eyes boring into his back.

  Once inside the barn, he relaxed his guard, if only a little. "I gather you didn't tell your men I was coming."

  Mandy stopped and turned to face him. "I wasn't sure whether or not you would come."

  Jesse didn't like the indifference with which she regarded him. Dressed in jeans and a soft cotton shirt and with her hair pulled up in a careless ponytail, she looked seventeen again and very much like the innocent young girl Jesse had fallen in love with. He was tempted to rea
ch out and yank that ribbon from her hair, fill his hands with those long auburn tresses, and melt that icy control with a kiss that promised to burn.

  Instead, he snorted and glanced away. "As if I had a choice." He picked up a coil of rope from the barn floor and ran it through competent hands. "Where's Jaime?"

  "Around," she replied vaguely. "He'll show up eventually."

  "And in the meantime?"

  Mandy gestured toward the far end of the long breezeway. "You've got a horse to break."

  Jesse walked with her to the remote stall where a black stallion stood, his ears pricked forward, his dark, dangerous eyes rolling at their approach. "What's his name?" he asked.

  "Judas."

  Though he heard the level of pride in her voice, Jesse turned to look at her in puzzlement. "Judas?" he repeated. "Kind of an odd name for a horse, isn't it?"

  A smile curved at her lips as she continued to gaze at the big black stallion. "His name suits him perfectly." She turned to Jesse, still smiling, though he could see now that the smile came well short of reaching her eyes. "And I suggest you take heed of his name," she warned him. "Better men than you have learned the hard way not to turn their backs on him."

  Jesse sat on the corral's top rail, a lasso hooked over his knees, the sun warm on his back. The black stallion paced the confines of the arena below him, blowing and snorting and pawing at the hard-packed earth. Jesse knew he was going to have his hands full with this one. So far, he hadn't been able to get within ten feet of him.

  "Hey! What're you doin' here?"

  Jesse glanced behind him to see Jaime loping across the yard toward him. Without even knowing why, he found himself grinning. "Your mama hired me to break this horse for her."

  Jaime skated to a stop. "Really?" he asked in surprise, then grinned, too, proving to Jesse that Mandy was right in telling him that Jaime wouldn't question his presence on the Double-Cross. "Hey, cool!" With that Jaime clasped his hands on the fence and climbed up, planting his bottom on the rail at Jesse's side. "Have you ridden him yet?" he asked, his eyes bright with excitement.