by Debra Holt
****
Amanda arrived at the ranch house at her usual time. She wasn’t surprised that J.D. had chosen to stay away. He had been handed a full dose of reality the day before. If anything, she was certain he would continue to keep his distance and let her finish her work, and then they could go their separate ways. There was too deep a chasm between them now that the truth had been laid bare.
Mid-morning, she ventured into the kitchen area for the first time since her arrival. The furnishings for the den had garnered her attention as soon as she'd arrived, and she had made some headway there. On the refrigerator was a note in familiar handwriting.
Amanda... I have a business meeting at the ranch this afternoon. Please take the afternoon off. J.D.
Short and to the point. He evidently wanted her gone before his business associates arrived. That was fine. She would uncrate the items in the garage and then pack up some paperwork and invoices she could work on at home and be out of his way.
****
“This looks like quite a spread you’ve got for yourself,” the large man commented, his eyes sizing up the furnishings inside the living room, and adding that to what he'd seen of the layout of the ranch from the air as the private jet had flown over. “Yes sir, guess this might not be a bad place for a little R and R.”
“I love this room. Although I think your house in Nashville is still my favorite, J.D. honey.” The man’s wife purred the compliment as she made herself comfortable on the couch.
J.D. followed behind them as they entered the living room. He headed for the bar in the corner of the room while they rambled on. He had summoned his tour manager, George Anderson, and his wife, Carol Ann, to the ranch and had sent a plane to make sure they kept the appointment. Just seeing the man standing inside his house and knowing what he had done those many years ago made him sick to his stomach. He would have loved to plant a fist in the man’s face, but he knew how to wound him where it counted. J.D. normally didn’t care for strong spirits — and never during the workday — but this was not a typical day. He splashed a swallow of whiskey in a short glass and downed it.
“This ranching life has changed you already, turned you into a proper drinking man.” George laughed, taking a seat on the couch next to his wife. He propped one booted foot up on the low coffee table, his arms stretched wide across the back of the leather couch. “I’ll have a double-whiskey, and Carol Ann here will take some of that sparkling water, if you have it.”
J.D.’s eyes narrowed as a hawk sizing up the hapless prey it was about to rip apart with its talons. He watched the man make himself at home but held his response in check for the moment. After a long moment or two, he moved slowly to stand next to the fireplace, his back against the stonework.
“Did you forget the drink orders?”
“You won’t be staying long enough for drinks.” J.D.’s voice was low and steady, his gaze cold as a piece of jade marble.
“That’s not very neighborly of you, J.D. You didn’t fly us all the way down here today just to turn around and go back to Nashville, did you? I don’t usually respond to being summoned like some errand boy. I thought maybe you had come to your senses about moving to Dallas or Houston at least. If you’re so dead set on being a fulltime rancher, you could at least do it near a city where you can still do some business and with an airport to get you around the country fast enough. With your latest song being Best Song of the Year and all, we’ve got to get some concert dates on the books. Make us all another boatload of money!”
J.D. ignored the man’s words. He was intent on only one subject.
“Think back to the concert we did in Dallas early in my career. It was the only time I ever played at the Cotton Bowl Stadium, so it shouldn’t be too hard to remember.”
There was a second or two of silence.
“Oh yeah! Your first album had just gone platinum. That crowd went wild for you that night. We could schedule a concert there again for old times’ sake.”
“There was one person who wasn’t so wild about me that night… not after you got finished with her.”
“Her?” George and his wife spoke up at the same time, although not for the same reasons.
“She would have stood out from the crowd, young and scared and pregnant. In fact, you spoke with her at some length at the stage door, gave her an autographed photo of me. She begged to speak with me. However, you threatened her with a lawsuit and with having her child taken from her if she didn’t disappear.” J.D.’s words dropped like bricks inside the room.
A thick silence lasted for what seemed minutes but was in fact only moments.
“I can see that it rings a bell with you now.” J.D.’s tone was cutting.
“You shouldn’t have done what you did.”
George sat up straighter; the foot came off the table. “Look, J.D., sure I remember her. She was a pregnant teenager, and she could have gone straight to the tabloids with her story about you and been paid a lot of money. She wasn’t what you needed right then. You were hot. Your career was shooting up faster than a meteor. A pregnant girlfriend was not good for your image or our bottom line. You didn’t need to have that kind of trouble. Good grief, who knew if the kid was really yours or not? It was my job to protect you from the likes of her kind.”
J.D.’s voice was low and cold as steel, held in check with great effort.
“That was for me to decide, not you. You made a decision that you had no right to make, and it impacted more lives than you know, in ways you will never be able to atone for.”
“Atone? What is all this? You hired me to manage you and steer your career to the top. I’ve done a pretty good job of it… we made it. And there is even more to be had. Let go of the past and whatever that girl was about.”
J.D. walked over to within a foot of where his manager sat, the look on his face a clear indicator the man had said more than enough. J.D. withdrew a folded paper from his shirt pocket and dropped it in his lap.
“I made the money and paid a very high price for it. Here’s a cashier’s check for more than a fair amount of money. You are retiring from my organization. That’s what I’ve instructed my attorneys to say in the press release issued from their offices twenty minutes ago.”
“Listen, I made you…” the man began, struggling to get to his feet, his face beet-red.
“I made you a boatload of money… both of you. Now the sight of you sickens me. You took something away from me that I’ll never get back, something more precious than any gold or platinum. The plane is waiting. Now get out of my sight while I’m still in the mood to be fair. One word from either of you after today, concerning me or anyone associated with me, and I swear I’ll ruin you.” J.D.’s voice had evolved into a low growl as he spoke the final words. The pair wasted little time finding the front door. It was closed none too gently behind them.
****
Amanda tiptoed into the kitchen from the back staircase. She had let time get away from her with the last crate and had realized there were voices downstairs, which meant J.D. and his associates were already having their meeting. She'd gone to grab the notebook with the latest invoices and scoot out the back door but had frozen as she recognized a voice she would never forget. The conversation in the other room continued until it ended with the slamming of the front door.
There was a length of silence. Amanda stood for several moments debating on what to do. Taking a calming breath, she moved from the kitchen into the hall and then stepped into the living room.
J.D.’s back was to her. He leaned with one hand braced on the mantel over the fireplace, and the other hand rubbed his forehead. His shoulders were set in a resigned slump.
“I’m sorry. I planned to be gone before your guests arrived.”
His head came up, and he turned toward her, surprise in his eyes. “How much did you hear?”
“Most of it.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry. You shouldn’t have had to be anywhere near that man again. Th
at’s why I didn’t want you at the ranch this afternoon. I thought I could at least spare you that. I guess I blew it again.”
“It’s okay. It bothered me at first, but that’s all part of the past. I can’t hold on to it, and neither should you.”
J.D. moved to stand closer but not too close. “I spent a long time in that church after you left. I did a lot of soul searching. It’s hard for me to reconcile the fact that I had a child… even for a little while, and never knew about her. That’s real hard. I can understand now why you want to stay away from me. I represent only bad memories for you. There are no words I could ever use to make any of that bad time go away, nothing I can ever do to make any of it better for you. I’ll carry that with me the rest of my days… the fact I wasn’t there for you when you needed me the most.”
“I can’t help wondering how things might be different right now if I had known you were at the concert that evening in Dallas. You have to know that there is no way I would have ever allowed you to be sent away had I known. So much could have been so different… if I had just known.”
His words threatened her composure. Amanda needed to move past the moment. “There isn’t anything to be gained from the might have beens in our lives. Today is where we have to live. Let it go, J.D. I have to get to town. I’ll be back tomorrow.” She didn’t dare look back.
Chapter Nine
There was a pattern to the next week. Amanda arrived in the morning, and J.D. had the coffee ready. He answered any questions she had, made the choices she needed him to make. Then he left her alone in the house. She knew he operated out of the office in the main show barn until the foreman he'd hired arrived. Fences and corrals were repaired and painted, and the interiors of the outbuildings and barns were being updated. There had been a full crew hired and the bunkhouse stood refurbished, so they'd made use of it. J.D. came to the house for a quick sandwich at midday and then was off again. There was no sight of him when it came time for her to leave.
On Monday morning of the following week, Amanda arrived to find the coffee made and J.D. standing at the window, coffee mug in hand, sipping the liquid while his eyes looked across the pastures and to the hills beyond. As usual, the sight of him stirred her senses and that morning was no different. The jeans and cream-colored shirt fit his physique like a glove, and when he turned and smiled a good morning to her, the light in his emerald eyes coupled with the devastating, grooved smile was just that… devastating on her heart rate. She tried to not react to the sight of him, but it was a battle lost before it had begun. Amanda had come to the realization she needed to accept the fact that this man would always bring out that reaction in her, even if she lived to be eighty. It was a battle within herself she would never win.
“Good morning.” He spoke first, the look in his eyes definitely telling her he approved of her outfit for the day.
The weather was crisper in the mornings as October had turned into November, and Thanksgiving would be upon them in less than two weeks, so it had been time to look toward her fall wardrobe.
She had taken more and more to wearing slim-fitting jeans, and today she had a spice-colored turtleneck sweater on that definitely enhanced her figure to advantage. “Good morning to you, too,” she replied, turning from the cabinet and moving to stand at the same window. She kept a discreet distance between them as she poured a cup of coffee for herself, but caught the aroma of his cologne, a manly scent that suited him perfectly. Tracy had enlightened her to the fact earlier in the week the cologne was probably his own product, called simply, Sterling. And it had been a hit with female shoppers buying it for their own menfolk.
J.D. seemed to have something more to say but let the moment go. After a couple more sips from his own mug, he cleared his throat. “I’ve got to get to the corrals. I’m meeting with the local banker, so I won’t be in for lunch today. I hope to get back before you finish for the day though.”
“That’s fine. I have the guest bedrooms upstairs to keep me occupied today.” She turned away and seated herself at the table, opening the laptop.
J.D. moved to the sink, rinsed out his mug, and sat it on the drain board to dry. He returned to the counter and picked up his hat. He settled it in its usual position…low on his forehead. Next, he shrugged into a lightweight denim jacket.
Without looking in his direction, Amanda assumed he headed toward the back door. She was totally caught off guard when she felt his hand on her shoulder and a swift, brief kiss placed on the top of her head. Her fingers paused in mid-typing.
“Have a good day.” His words trailed him to the door, and he was gone in seconds.
As she recovered from the shock, she realized it had felt really nice... and right. And wrong. If she didn’t watch out, her heart would be in danger again. That would be a bad thing. Wouldn’t it?
****
“I think we have everything we need.” Tracy eyed the long table, laden with platters and covered dishes of aromatic food. “At least I hope we do.”
Amanda sat the last pumpkin pie on the sideboard, along with the rest of the desserts. She shook her head as she turned toward the woman still showing a pensive brow as she looked over the buffet once again. “Relax, Tracy. As usual, there’s way too much food. We always have enough food left over to feed a couple of armies each year.”
“I can’t help it.” Tracy grimaced and headed back into the kitchen, with Amanda close behind. “I would rather have too much than not enough. It’s an old habit ingrained in me by my mother and grandmother.”
“Leftovers are a good thing. No one feels like cooking for a while after the big turkey day anyway. Do you want the rolls to go into the oven now?” Amanda asked, placing the last yeast roll on the baking sheet.
“Just as soon as…” The peal of the doorbell interrupted the answer. “That would be the rest of the guests. My hands are greasy. Can you get the door? I’ll put your yam casserole in the oven first. Did you…?”
“Yes,” Amanda replied swiftly to the question. “I added a double amount of marshmallows… just as requested by your husband.” She added the last, tossing the answer over her shoulder as she headed down the hall toward the front door, her hands brushing themselves along the front of the apron she wore to protect her clothing.
She had a smile on her face as she opened the door. Her eyes widened in surprise at the guest standing on the porch, a red cooler in his hands.
“The ice man cometh,” J.D. announced, a broad smile creasing his mouth as his eyes took in the pleasing sight before him.
Still in shock from his unexpected appearance, Amanda was silent as she stepped to the side and allowed him to carry his armload into the house. He headed toward the kitchen. She shut the door and followed more slowly behind him. Her hand went to smooth her hair into place before she could help herself.
“Hi, J.D.!” Tracy threw her new guest a welcoming grin. “You can set that beside the freezer in the corner.” Her head nodded in the direction, and he followed her instructions. “Thanks for bringing the extra ice and drinks.”
Amanda tried not to notice how the forest-green shirt stretched snugly across broad shoulders as he bent to set the large chest where he'd been told. She had followed him down the hall, adrift in the wake of his cologne, and with a nice view of the way his dark jeans molded to his backside. She knew that her mind needed to get back to safer areas. She also would have loved to strangle Tracy for not bothering to tell her she had invited him to join the group for dinner. She could have at least had time to prepare herself.
Amanda picked up the tray of rolls and turned toward the double oven. J.D. stood from the cooler just as she neared the oven, and that placed him square in her path. He reached over and opened the oven door for her. She murmured a word of thanks and slid the tray inside.
“Nice apron.” His words held a tone of mischief, and she looked up at him, only to find that mischief also was evident in the emerald eyes. Dropping her gaze to her apron, her cheeks flamed with inst
ant heat rising in them. The oversized apron had a bib-top that tied around her neck, with the words Kiss the Chef... I’m Hot Stuff emblazoned across her chest. Amanda didn’t venture another glance at the man.
“Excuse me.” She turned away and put some space between them. She kept her attention on cleaning the cabinet top in front of her. She heard a low chuckle from him as she passed.
“Tyler is out back with the turkeys… and I don’t mean the other guests,” Tracy spoke up. “Would you please tell him we’re five minutes away from dinnertime? And please take him this platter.”
J.D. followed his hostess’s bidding and, with the closing of the back door, Amanda felt her nerves take a break from their red-alert status at his presence. She turned from the oven and quickly rid herself of the apron. Her eyes caught Tracy’s across the island countertop. The other girl had a decidedly smug smile on her face.
“You didn’t tell me you were having a surprise guest this evening.”
“Didn’t I? I thought I did. It must have slipped my mind.” Tracy went back to garnishing the tray with the sliced ham on it. Her feigned look of innocence fell short under Amanda’s scrutiny.
“I bet it did.”
“We couldn’t let J.D. sit at home by himself on such a holiday... not when we have more than enough food. How’re the yams looking?”
Amanda threw her a long look that told her she knew what she was up to and turned away to check on the food in the double ovens. She supposed it did make sense for Tracy and Tyler to invite their good friend, and it was, after all, their house. What should it matter to her who they'd invited? Besides, since the truth about their baby had come out, and the fact that J.D. had never known anything about the pregnancy or what had transpired in Dallas, things had changed in the way they behaved daily around each other.
