Jessie's Child

by Lois Faye Dyer

  “I think I’ll have cold tea.” He looked at his wife and shook his head. “It’s too damned hot outside for coffee.”

  “John, no swearing.”

  Jessie smiled at her mother’s automatic response and her father’s swift grimace.

  “Sorry, hon.”

  “What are you doing away from your office in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, Jess? Playing hooky?” Chase set a tall glass half-filled with ice in front of his father and an identical glass at an empty spot next to Jessie. He pulled out the chair and sat down before reaching for the pitcher of cold tea.

  Jessie shrugged. “I decided it was too nice a day to spend inside a stuffy office. One of the perks of being self-employed.”

  “True.” He deftly swiped the remaining cookie from her plate and took a bite.

  “Hey. That’s mine.”

  “Not now it isn’t.” He grinned at her and popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

  Jessie frowned at him, shrugged and turned to her father. “Mom told me you have a new plane, Dad.”

  John’s eyes lit up. “Yeah.” He launched into details while Jessie listened, nodding on occasion.

  “Jessie,” Chase interrupted after several minutes, pointing out the window. “Did you tell Rowdy he and Muttly could dig a hole in Mom’s flower bed?”

  “What?” Jessie followed his gaze and jumped up. “Oh, no! That boy…!”

  The three left sitting at the table watched her run out of the kitchen and dash across the lawn to where Rowdy and the big dog were industriously removing rich soil from the flower bed to make a dark pile on the green grass.

  “He reminds me of you at that age, Chase,” Margaret commented, laughing out loud when Rowdy looked up and grinned angelically at Jessie.

  “You mean because he gets in trouble with his mother too often?” A rare smile curved Chase’s mouth before his eyes narrowed consideringly over the three outside. “Is everything okay with Jessie, Mom? It’s not like her to skip off work.”

  Margaret sighed. “She’s worrying about Rowdy needing his father in his life.”

  “Why the hell does he need his father?” Chase shot back, frowning. “The guy bailed on Jessie when she found out she was pregnant. That’s not the kind of responsible parent the kid needs.”

  “You and Luke keep saying he abandoned her,” Margaret said. “But Jessie has told you repeatedly that she couldn’t reach him to tell him about Rowdy.”

  “It’s all the same in the end, isn’t it? The bottom line is, the SOB didn’t make sure Jessie didn’t get pregnant. I’d like five minutes alone with him in a locked room. Ten minutes would be better.”

  “If I ever find him, you’ll have to take a number and stand in line.” John McCloud’s face was set in hard lines.

  “Men.” Margaret heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Why is it you all seem to think a fistfight will solve everything?”

  “Not everything,” her husband corrected. “But sometimes, it can go a long way toward getting justice.”

  “Who’s getting justice?” Jessie asked.

  Chase looked over his shoulder. “Justice is the one thing everyone deserves.”

  Jessie looked puzzled but Rowdy squirmed, tugging against her hold on his arm and distracting her. “Mommy, why do I have to wash my hands and face? I’ll just get dirty again when I go back outside to play with Muttly.”

  “I’m sure you will. But before you get dirtier, we’re going to wash off the current layer of dirt. And what do you say to Grammy for digging in her flower bed?”

  “I’m sorry, Grammy,” he said sweetly. “Don’t be mad at Muttly, either. We were looking for the bone he buried.”

  “Muttly buried a bone in my flower bed?” Margaret asked, surprised. “How do you know?”

  “He told me.”

  “He did?”

  John and Chase exchanged amused grins.

  “Yup.” Rowdy nodded, his voice muffled as it disappeared under the damp washcloth. “Muttly talks to me a lot.”

  “I see.”

  All four adults hid smiles and listened with interest to Rowdy’s recital of prior conversations with the big dog.

  Jessie spent the rest of the day at her parents’ house and finally drove home after seven that evening. She would have stayed longer but if Rowdy wasn’t in bed by eight o’clock he’d be tired and cranky throughout the following day.

  There were no messages on her answering machine and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  Don’t be silly, she chided herself. Did you expect Zach to call? He probably hasn’t given you a second thought since he boarded that plane nearly four years ago.

  The idea didn’t console her and she wasn’t sure if she was relieved Zach hadn’t called, or disappointed that he hadn’t immediately tried to contact her. She decided to ignore the niggle of disappointment and told herself she was glad he hadn’t left a message.

  Two days later, Jessie was halfway between town and her parents’ ranch, on her way to pick up Rowdy after work, when her cell phone rang.

  She rummaged in her bag on the passenger seat beside her, found her phone, glanced at the caller ID and smiled as she lifted it to her ear.

  “Hi, Mom. What’s up?”

  “Jessie, I’m glad I caught you before you drove all the way out here. I wanted to let you know that Rowdy isn’t here.”

  “He’s not? Where is he?”

  “Luke and Rachel were by this afternoon and took him back to their house to show him the new miniature horse Luke gave Rachel.”

  Apprehension filled Jessie but she chatted with her mother for a few more minutes before hanging up as she neared the turnoff for Luke’s ranch. She sped down the lane to the cluster of buildings that made up the headquarters of McCloud Ranch Number 6. A strange pickup sat on the far side of Rachel’s car, and Jessie’s nerves stretched tighter, fluttering with foreboding.

  She slipped out of the SUV and slammed the door, hurrying up the walkway to the house.

  “Come in.” Rachel’s voice answered her swift rap on the screen door and Jessie stepped inside the entry hall, cool and dim after the glare of hot sunshine outside.

  “Rachel?” she called. “Where are you?”

  “We’re in the kitchen, Jessie. Come on back.”

  The murmur of Rachel’s lighter tones mixed with deeper male voices reached Jessie’s ears, making her heart pound in panic as she walked swiftly down the hallway, her heels tapping on the polished wood flooring.

  She reached the kitchen and stopped abruptly, eyes widening as she saw the quartet seated at the table.

  Luke lounged beside Rachel, who was handing an apple slice to Rowdy, perched on the chair between his Aunt Rachel…and Zach.

  A less observant person might have thought Zach, like Luke, was relaxed. He sat with one arm slung over the back of the oak chair, seemingly at ease. But Jessie knew better.

  One look in his eyes told her everything. They blazed with anger, accusation and something deeper, darker, an emotion she couldn’t identify.

  He knows. Her gaze flicked to Luke and Rachel, but their faces reflected no knowledge of anything amiss.

  “Hi, Mommy.” Rowdy clambered down from his chair to race across the room.

  Jessie caught him and swung him up in her arms, eyes closing briefly as he squeezed her hard before pushing back to beam at her.

  “Look, Mommy, I have another uncle.”

  Zach’s eyes flared before narrowing over her. If Jessie were the type of woman to be intimidated by big, fierce-looking men, she would have been shaking in her three-inch heels. Fortunately for her, she’d been raised with a father and two brothers whose appearances echoed Zach’s.

  “I see,” she said calmly.

  “This is my brother, Zach,” Rachel said. “And Zach, this is Luke’s sister, Jessie.”

  “We’ve met.” Zach’s voice was a low growl.

  “You have?” Rachel’s lift of eyebrows reflected her surprise, her gaze moving
from her brother to Jessie and just as quickly back again.

  “Yes,” Jessie said calmly, refusing to look away from his hard gaze. “How have you been, Zach? Still dodging bullets in foreign countries?”

  Chapter Four

  “Not anymore.” The slight curve of his lips wasn’t quite a smile and it wasn’t reflected in his eyes. “I’m back.”

  “To stay?” She couldn’t believe Zach would ever return permanently to Montana and settle into the quiet life of a rancher.

  Zach shrugged. “Hard to say.”

  “He’s staying,” Rachel declared firmly. “Mom and I are determined to keep him away from war zones and here at home.” She looked pointedly from her brother to Jessie, not bothering to hide her speculation at the interchange between the two.

  Jessie pretended not to notice Rachel’s interest and glanced at the clock on the wall above the stove. “Look at the time—it’s after seven already and Rowdy’s bedtime is at eight. We need to get going.” She swung the little boy to the floor, purposely avoiding Rachel’s curious gaze and refusing to look at her brother. “Where’s your backpack, kiddo?”

  “On the porch.” Rowdy yawned and rubbed his eyes.

  “Did you have a big day playing with Muttly?” Jessie asked, smoothing her hand over his hair.

  “Yes.” He leaned against her side, his eyes drowsy.

  “I’m afraid he missed his nap this afternoon,” Rachel admitted, standing to cross the kitchen to the back porch. “He wanted to see my new horse.”

  “Ah.” Jessie nodded. “Mom told me Luke bought you a new pet.” She felt Zach’s unwavering stare but didn’t look at him, choosing instead to focus on Rowdy and pretend all was normal. “We’ll have an early night, then.”

  “Don’t want to.” Rowdy frowned at her, the effect spoiled by another yawn. “I want to stay here and play with Uncle Luke and Uncle Zach.”

  “Maybe tomorrow,” Jessie soothed, glancing up when Rachel reentered the room carrying a toddler-size blue backpack and set it on the table. “Are all of his toys and his blanket inside?”

  “My blanket and Elmo are in the living room,” Rowdy interjected.

  Zach stood and held out his hands to Rowdy. “Why don’t I carry you out to the car while your Mom gets your stuff?”

  The little boy didn’t hesitate. Jessie’s heart wrenched at the easy trust with which Rowdy lifted his arms. Zach swung him off his feet and perched him on his hip. Rowdy wrapped his arms around Zach’s neck and gave his mom a sleepy smile. Zach’s mouth was set in stern lines, but the two male faces, one barely past the baby stage and the other all testosterone-charged adult, were astonishingly similar. Two pairs of gold eyes, rimmed with black lashes, watched her.

  Jessie glanced quickly at Rachel and Luke, relieved to see both of them were looking at her instead of Zach and Rowdy. Luke’s expression was puzzled while Rachel’s was intrigued. Fortunately, Jessie sensed their interest was spiked by her abruptness with Zach and not the resemblance between Rowdy and his father.

  “I’ll get Elmo,” Luke said as Zach walked out with Rowdy in his arms.

  “Don’t forget his blanket,” Jessie called to Luke.

  He reappeared almost immediately and handed the stuffed red toy and blanket to his sister.

  Outside, Jessie leaned into the SUV and turned on the engine, raised the windows and switched the air conditioner on to cool the interior while Zach snapped Rowdy into his car seat. She turned up the volume of Rowdy’s favorite Sesame Street CD and shut the driver’s door on Elmo’s crooning.

  “Good night, you two,” she called, raising her voice to be heard by Luke and Rachel, who stood on the porch. They waved in response and she turned to watch Zach tousle Rowdy’s hair and step back, closing the door.

  “I’ll follow you home.” He pinned her with a hard stare across the top of the SUV. “We need to talk.”

  “No, we don’t. We said all we needed to four years ago in Missoula. In case you’ve forgotten that conversation, we agreed there was no future for us and there would be no ongoing communication. No phone calls, no letters, no e-mails. Nothing.”

  “That was before Rowdy.”

  “How does that change the situation?”

  “You should have told me.” Anger vibrated in his voice.

  “You should have asked,” she shot back.

  Jessie glanced through the window and found Rowdy watching her, his eyes wide with curiosity and concern. She knew he couldn’t hear their voices over the sound of the music but he obviously read her expression. She forced a smile for him and looked back at Zach.

  “I’m not having this conversation in front of Rowdy.” She crossed her arms defensively. “I’m not saying we shouldn’t talk. Just not now. He’ll be tucked in bed and down for the night in an hour. If you want to come by the house, we can discuss this when I know he’s asleep and won’t hear us.”

  A muscle flexed in Zach’s jaw. “You haven’t told him anything about me?”

  “No.”

  She saw the fury in his eyes and the leashed tension in his body. “I’ll be at your house by nine o’clock. That should give you plenty of time to put him to bed.” The words carried an implicit warning.

  Jessie nodded, silently watching as he turned his back and stalked to his truck, the gravel crunching beneath his boots.

  She waved goodbye to Luke and Rachel, who still stood on the porch, before she slipped behind the wheel of her vehicle and fastened her seat belt.

  Zach’s truck reversed and then stopped while he waited for her to precede him. Jessie drew in a deep breath, her thoughts racing as she shifted into gear and drove away from her brother’s house.

  She was convinced she’d made the right decision when she hadn’t told Zach about Rowdy.

  Zach probably won’t agree. She looked in the rearview mirror. The big silver pickup remained a steady six-car lengths behind her, Zach’s expression fortunately unreadable at this distance. When he turned onto a side road and disappeared from view altogether, Jessie exhaled with relief.

  Zach drove away from Rachel’s house seething with anger and shock. He hadn’t had to ask Jessie if Rowdy was his child nor had she bothered denying the little boy was his.

  Rowdy was three years old. She’d had more than enough time to tell him they shared a child.

  He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Had she thought he wouldn’t care he had a son? Did she plan to refuse him contact with Rowdy?

  She’d better get over that idea. I’m going to be in his life whether she likes it or not.

  The fact that he had a child was difficult to grasp. He’d long since given up believing he would have a family and children one day. The life he’d lived after high school, both in the military and later as a munitions consultant, wasn’t conducive to having a family. A wife and children didn’t integrate well into the globe-trotting schedule and dangerous assignments he and his cohorts lived. Those who had tried usually ended up divorced; there were few exceptions.

  But you’re a rancher now, a small voice reminded him. You can choose to live a quiet, normal life.

  Nevertheless, he couldn’t erase his past. He knew from experience that making a living from violence changed a man. Given the choice, he may never have decided to have children but now that he knew he had a son, he’d be a good father. Hell, he’d be the best father in Wolf Creek.

  He parked near the gate to his house and stepped out.

  “Hey, Zach.”

  He looked over his shoulder. Charlie Ankrum walked toward him from the barn, his shirt and jeans stained with dried mud.

  “Charlie,” Zach replied, slamming the truck door. “What happened to you?”

  “The pump in the east pasture wasn’t shutting off like it should. The water trough spilled over and made a helluva mud hole around it.” Charlie looked down at his feet and shook his head at the thick mud caked on his boots.

  “Did you get it fixed?” Zach asked.

  “Yeah, but it t
ook most of the day and a lot of cussin’ before I was done.” Charlie’s gaze sharpened. “You don’t look so good, boy. Somethin’ wrong?”

  “No.” Zach didn’t elaborate, even though he’d grown up following Charlie around the ranch, learning how to work cattle, ride broncs and mend fence. The older man knew him too well.

  “That’s a lie,” Charlie said amiably. “You have a run-in with Lonnie?”

  “No.”

  “Harlan, then?”

  “No.” Zach met Charlie’s unwavering, patient gaze and gave in. “I stopped at Rachel and Luke’s place this afternoon. While I was there, Jessie McCloud showed up to pick up her son.”

  “So?” Charlie prompted when Zach paused.

  Zach wouldn’t have told his mother, or his sister, or a close friend. But Charlie was like a father to him.

  “I think the boy is mine.”

  Charlie stared at him for a long moment. “I didn’t know you and the McCloud girl were acquainted,” he said at last. “I don’t recall you talking about her.”

  “She was in college in Missoula when I was assigned to the recruiting office on campus four years ago.”

  “Well.” Charlie took off his hat, wiped his forearm across his brow and eyed Zach, his faded blue eyes shrewd and kind. “You didn’t know before this?”

  “No.” Zach felt a savage twist of anger. “She didn’t tell me.”

  “Not good.” Charlie shook his head. “What’re you going to do about it?”

  “Claim my kid.”

  “Good.” Charlie jerked his thumb toward the barns behind him. “You want me to take care of the evenin’ chores?”

  “No. I have time to feed the stock with you. I’m driving into town to talk to Jessie later, after I’m sure Rowdy’s asleep.”

  “Rowdy?” Charlie’s weathered face creased in a grin. “She named the boy Rowdy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Does he look like you or her?”

  “Both of us, I think.”

  “Can’t wait to see the little guy.” Charlie clapped a gnarled hand on Zach’s shoulder. “Congratulations, you’re a daddy. Wasn’t sure I’d ever see the day.”