“I’ll give you an example. I’d only been here at the ranch a while when I got up on the garage roof to knock snow off. While I was up there, I tried to fly.”
“Seriously? You thought you could fly?”
“No, I thought I could jump and glide long enough to make the guys watching me think I flew.”
“Were you compensating for the horse incident?”
That brought a hint of a smile to his lips, and she liked it. “Maybe. But it sounded like a cool idea.”
She studied him. “So was it cool?”
“I dropped like a lead balloon and broke my ankle in two places. The only cool thing about it was the freezing snow I was almost buried in when I hit the ground.”
“Ouch,” she said with a grimace. “I bet you never thought about doing that again.”
“Of course I thought about doing it again.”
“You would have jumped off the roof again?”
“Probably not, but I spent a long time trying to figure out how I could have done it right.”
“You can’t fly,” she said, pointing out the obvious.
He shrugged. “No, but at the time, I thought I should have been able to glide. Now I’m still like that, either get it right the first time or figure out how to get it right the next time. I’m not done with anything until I’ve beaten it, or it’s beaten me.”
She’d never met someone like Jake, and his ideas kind of scared her. “What if being beaten means you break your neck the next time?”
* * *
JAKE STARED AT HER. He’d taken chances and had it backfired, but at least he’d tried. Giving up wasn’t acceptable to him. “If I start thinking I can fail, I will,” he said.
Most people like Liberty weren’t equipped to understand a life lived in the moment. No matter how much he liked her smile or had thoughts about how lucky Roger was, he’d never put himself in a place where he had to worry about altering his life because of another person. It was why he kept clear of relationships and, to some degree, why he didn’t involve his family in his life very much.
Jake knew about being alone, and he’d craved it since the accident. He also knew he wouldn’t leave Liberty here on her own with no way to contact anyone when a storm was coming. It was why he’d agreed to stay at the ranch with her. He owed that to Seth, and now he felt he owed it to Liberty. He owed her for going with him to see Sarge. It surprised him how easily he’d accepted her help and how easily she’d given it.
“What about discretion being the better part of valor?” she asked. “William Shakespeare’s Henry IV. ‘Caution is preferable to rash bravery.’”
He sat back, getting a bit of distance from a woman who seemed to have the ability to challenge just about anything he said or did. “Shakespeare? Seriously? You’re pulling out the big guns? No offense to old Will, but I think it’s better to regret something you tried and failed than to regret something you didn’t even try to do.”
“Maybe not doing something and surviving is better than doing it just to say you did what you wanted to do.”
“Wow, now that sounds boring,” he murmured, not adding that it sounded suffocating. That was pretty much the main reason he’d never settle down and answer to someone else. He didn’t think he could survive that.
Liberty looked down at the ring she had been rotating on her finger and stopped. He could see her exhale as she sat up a bit straighter before she looked back at him. “That wind sounds horrible outside,” she said, totally going off subject.
“And we’re inside,” he said.
She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I don’t… It gives me the creeps. I’ve never liked wind.”
“But you don’t mind thunder. Go figure that,” he said.
“This is different.”
He’d seen her uneasiness about it last night, but he didn’t brush it off this time. He could see the tension in her body, the way she took another deep breath and exhaled. He wanted to know why it bothered her so much. “What happened with you and the wind?”
“Nothing, really.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Why? Was it something you did wrong?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.” She looked serious about that.
“Okay, but I’m sorry for whatever it was,” he said, and meant it.
Color touched her cheeks. “It’s nothing big at all. Just stupid stuff when I was little.”
“Was it crazy stuff?” he asked lightly.
“No. Well, maybe. I was so young, just five, I think. So it was foolish, not wrong.”
“Now you have to tell me what happened.”
He could tell she wished she hadn’t mentioned it at all. “I don’t think I have to,” she said.
“I told you about flying,” he said. “That’s still embarrassing to me since I never figured out how to do it right.”
“Oh, okay.” She started speaking so quickly he had to really concentrate to see what she was saying. “It was nothing. I was little and I got lost in some woods and it got really windy. I didn’t know where I was, and the wind was so bad that the trees just groaned and made cracking sounds, and I thought they were all going to crash down on me. I was there all night before they found me.”
He hadn’t expected that at all. “You weren’t hurt, were you?”
She blinked. “I was fine, just fine.” She shook her head, and her brilliant hair drifted softly around her shoulders. Resting her hands on her knees, she looked right at him as she sat straighter. “I just remembered something that I did that was crazy,” she said.
He was quite sure she wanted to forget about what she’d just told him. So he’d play along. “What was it?”
“I was almost eighteen when I did this, and it was dangerous.” She gave him a “you asked for it” look then went on, “I was warned not to take the tags off my pillows, but I cut them off the first day I was in my dorm at college.” She grinned at him. “Rebellious, huh?”
“Absolutely. You broke a federal law, lady.” They both laughed, and it felt good, really good. He didn’t want it to stop.
“I’ll swear you’re lying if you turn me in,” she said.
“What’s said here, stays here.”
He liked the way that smile of hers showed up. “Deal.” She paused. “Now that’s settled, I’ve been thinking about some things I could use your help with. First, the space for Sarge. I would love to get your input on plans I put together before I got here and ideas I have since checking the space in the west wing.” She was really into her work. It showed on her face that she was suddenly in her element. “Secondly, I’d like you to think of something you wanted when you were living here but didn’t get. I mean, really wanted and wished for.”
He wasn’t one to analyze things too much, especially the past, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to go down that road. “Seth would be a better source for Sarge’s space,” he said. “After all, it’s all his idea. Honestly, back then, I never asked for much, and I never believed in wishes, either.”
“How about now?” she asked.
“I get what I want for myself and wishing is pretty much worthless.”
“Wow,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t want that. “No, don’t be sorry,” he said quickly. “I’m just being honest with you.”
“Okay, I understand.” She stood and turned to pad barefoot over to the glass doors to the right of the fireplace. Jake looked over and saw beyond her that the falling snow was changing to larger flakes, and the wind was dying down. He watched Liberty watching the outside world and knew he’d said too much. Finally, he stood carefully and crossed over to her.
“Liberty?” She looked startled when she turned to him.
He tucked the tips of his fingers in the pockets of his jeans. “I’ve reconsidered.”
“What?”
“I’ll look at the plans and give you my honest opinion, and I’ll try to remember what I wanted, beyond getting out of the system.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. If it helps you help Sarge and Seth, I’m all for it.”
“Thank you.” She smiled at him and clasped her hands together. The diamond sparkled. “Thank you so, so much.”
Jake felt a tinge of jealousy that a man he didn’t know would get to see that smile for the rest of his life. That didn’t seem fair, and it made his throat tighten. “Sure, no problem.”
“One more thing. I need to get the Christmas tree before you leave, because I might need your help getting it back here after I cut it down.”
He hated to mess up her plans as a lumberjack, but he did. “I should have told you something right at the first. Sarge has a law around here that no tree is ever cut down just to be brought inside and decorated.”
“I thought Seth meant that Roger and I could do it.”
“Sarge always had a living tree in a wooden root box around here somewhere. He brought it in for Christmas and used it for a couple of years, until it got too big or too scraggly. Then he’d plant it outside and dig up another one.”
“Do you think he still has one out there?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said, and had barely finished when she moved around him to head for the door.
CHAPTER SEVEN
JAKE KNEW WHAT Liberty was going to do, and he didn’t argue with her. So five minutes later he found himself outside on the back deck, wearing the beanie Liberty had handed to him, along with his jacket and boots. The snow was still coming down, but it was barely two inches deep, and the wind had faded to little more than a breeze. Even so, the cold made his face tingle. He wanted to get this over with quickly.
Liberty looked along the deck in both directions, then said something he didn’t catch before she started hurrying down past the great room to the back of the west wing. He saw her target by the railing at the far end of the deck. A cone-shaped pine tree sat in a wooden container that brought it up to about six feet in height. It was partially covered in snow.
As Jake got closer, Liberty turned to him. “It’s perfect, but now we need a broom to get the snow off before we can take it inside.”
“How are we going to get it inside? It took two or three bigger kids along with Sarge to move these before.”
She studied the tree, then crouched down and pulled the red gloves out of her jacket pocket to put them on. She brushed away the snow around the bottom of the wooden container. He was surprised when she uncovered a swivel wheel at one corner of the box, then a second one at the next corner. She stood and announced with a grin, “It rolls!”
Sarge must have had it done so he could move it on his own. “Let’s do this tomorrow,” he said. “I’m starving.”
“We need to get the tree inside so it can dry off before we decorate it.”
“Who’s this ‘we’ decorating it?” he asked, but not unkindly.
“Well, I mean, I’m going to wait for Roger to get here to decorate it, but until then, it can be drying out, you know.”
“How long does it have to dry out?”
“A day, or two, or maybe longer. Who knows?”
He didn’t bother to fight her vague statement. “Okay.” He eyed the snowy deck. “It’s not very deep. You just need a cleared path to the door.”
“That won’t take long. Is there a shovel or a broom?” she asked.
He knew it was easier to just go with the flow, and he told her where the brooms were kept. She took off to get one. Even when the tree was finally inside, sitting in the great room just by the glass door nearest to the kitchen, Liberty didn’t slow down. She actually wiped at the tree with towels to get clinging snow off its boughs, then laid more towels on the slate floor to catch the rest of the snow as it melted. Finally, she stood back and smiled at him. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
“You’re welcome. Now, can we eat?”
“Of course. I can make us something,” she said, and went around him to go into the kitchen, then the pantry. Jake turned to go after Liberty, but she was already coming back out. “Your choice,” she said as she put a large can of pork and beans and one of chili on the kitchen island. “I might not cook, but I have the skills to heat up anything.”
“I’m impressed,” he said.
“You know what? I actually can do a mean frozen dinner, too. How about chili?”
* * *
WHEN THEY SAT opposite each other at the table to eat, Jake watched Liberty test her chili and smile. “It’s not bad.”
No smile should make his breath catch the way hers kept doing. There was something about her he couldn’t pin down, and it went beyond her looks. Maybe it was her persistence or the kindness she’d shown while they visited Sarge. He didn’t know, and he really didn’t want to think about it. Before he could taste the food for himself, Liberty got up. “I’ll be right back.” She took off toward the entry and disappeared from his sight.
Jake felt cold air invade the house a minute later, and he realized she’d just gone outside. He was ready to go and see what she was doing, when she came back carrying two six-packs of bottled soda. She set them on the table. “I forgot about these. Sorry there isn’t a variety, but they are icy cold.”
Her face was flushed, and that smile was back in place. Both six-packs were cream soda with twist-off tops. She handed him a bottle, then she sat back down and reached for her own. Jake put his by his place and looked over at her. He didn’t think he was frowning, but he saw her say, “Oh, you don’t like it, do you? I know a lot of people don’t.” She leaned forward and stretched to pull his bottle over by hers. “Sorry, the milk was spoiled, and the orange juice is dicey. There might be a can of tomato juice in there. Or I can make coffee.”
“I like cream soda,” he said before she could get up and take off to the kitchen.
She looked at him skeptically. “Truthfully, you really like it?”
“I almost forgot about it, but I do like it.” He reached to take his bottle back.
“You’ve got good taste,” she said with a nod, then started eating her chili.
The meal was quiet with neither one speaking very much, but there were four empty soda bottles when Jake pushed his bowl back. He tapped the closest one with his finger. “I haven’t had cream soda since my last birthday here.”
She sat back. “When is your birthday?”
He found himself answering her honestly, something he seldom did when faced with that question. “I don’t know.”
“How can you not know when your own birthday is?”
That did sound strange. “When they found me outside the police station as a child, I knew my name was Jake, and that’s all I could tell them. There was no note with me, so they guessed at my age, five, and they finally gave me the last name Bishop. I’m not sure why. My first caseworker asked me to pick my birth date. All I knew was Christmas and the Fourth of July.”
“What date did you pick? No, let me guess. Christmas?”
“I picked the Fourth of July, and I got fireworks for every birthday after that, like clockwork.”
That made her smile, but it was a soft smile, one that could have been sympathetic. “You could have said Christmas and had Santa and presents and a Christmas tree.”
“At that age, I couldn’t really remember Christmas very much. The first Christmas I actually remember was in the foster home, and I got underwear and socks. But I sure remembered fireworks, being scared at first, then being enthralled with them. I don’t know where I was, or who I was with, but I remember it being exciting.” He sat back in his chair as he murmured, “The things you don’t forget.”
Libby pushed her bowl out of the way, then leaned forward. “Did you remember a wish from whe
n you were here?”
“To be honest, it would be what I said before. The only thing I wished for back before I got here was that I’d never gone into the system or that I could get out of it. That wish wasn’t answered—well, not completely. But Sarge and Maggie were terrific.”
“So it sort of came true.”
“I guess.”
“Is it good for you, being back here? I mean, despite the problems?”
He exhaled. “Being back here without Maggie or Sarge, it’s not the same, but it’s my home.”
“What happened to Maggie?” she asked.
“She got sick about six years ago. It was her heart, and she passed a year later. We all came here near the end and stayed for the funeral, then we all had to leave again. I hated that, but I had a contract in Alaska that I couldn’t get out of.”
“That must have been horrible for all of you, especially Sarge.”
“It was,” he said, then pushed away the past, done with thinking back on things that only hurt to remember. He stood, collected the dishes and took them into the kitchen while Liberty put the rest of the sodas in the refrigerator. Jake glanced over at her after he closed the dishwasher. “Dinner was good.”
“Thank you. I open a mean can.”
He smiled at that. “I’d agree with you.”
“Can I ask you a favor?”
“Sure, if I can do it.”
“I need to get started working, and my drafting table is still in the Jeep. It’s kind of heavy and awkward. But I need to set it up.”
“Where do you want it put?”
She looked around the great room. “Do you think it would be okay if I set it up in the office? The desk would be an awesome work area. If I set up the drafting table by the desk, I could swivel between both.”
“Okay, I’ll bring it in, but before I set it up, we need to put the Jeep and truck in the garage and out of the snow before it gets too deep.”
“Okay. I’ll get the office ready for it. I’m dying to really get down to work.”
Harlequin Heartwarming December 2020 Box Set Page 55
