When It's Right

by Jennifer Ryan

  “No. He thinks you’re too young for me.”

  “Why? I thought all guys, no matter how old they are, want to date twenty-­year-­olds.”

  “That’s what I told him.” She frowned. “I told him I’m not interested in your age, I’m interested in you. He’s just looking out for me, making sure you don’t leave me for some younger guy. Like Ken,” he added and wished he’d held his tongue about that concern.

  Gillian huffed that away. “He’s a chameleon. You never know who he really is.”

  “What am I?”

  “Better than anyone I’ve ever met.”

  “Good answer.” He leaned down and kissed her on the head. “Justin, come on. Let’s get your homework done,” Blake called into the kitchen. He sat on the floor beside Gillian, his back against the sofa. He looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Go to sleep. I got this.”

  With him inches away, making her whole being aware of him so close and his scent drawing her in, she hardly wanted to sleep.

  Justin ran in, his backpack over one shoulder, a huge bowl of popcorn in his hands. Blake took the bowl before the boy dumped the contents all over the floor. Justin sat on the floor on the other side of Blake, closer to Gillian’s feet, and pulled out his worksheets.

  “Okay, let’s practice writing the alphabet and work on your sight words.”

  Gillian listened to the two of them working through the homework. Blake’s patience, the way he made the work fun for Justin and kept him engaged, warmed her heart and made her like him even more. It made her want to reach out and hold onto his goodness.

  She scooted down on the sofa, draped her arm over his shoulder, and laid her hand on his chest. She rested her face against his other shoulder and settled into him and the sleep that pulled her under.

  Blake reached up and over him to brush his fingers through her hair. He worked with Justin and kept up that hypnotic caress until she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Gillian woke up two hours later to Blake and Justin laughing at one of Justin’s favorite cartoon movies. Justin sat on Blake’s lap, his back against Blake’s chest, and held her hand. She leaned up. “I don’t know what to do with you when you’re sweet,” she whispered to Blake. She kissed his cheek, settled her chin on his shoulder to watch the movie with them, and smiled when Blake kissed her on the head.

  “Feel better?”

  “Being with you always makes me feel better,” she admitted, realizing how much she meant it. Still, she wondered if her crazy act today didn’t put him off and make him wonder if he’d made a huge mistake getting involved with a head case like her.

  Chapter 19

  Gillian slammed the truck door and waited for Justin to come around to her side to join her. Upset, she held back her temper. She’d talk to him when she calmed down. Who knew how long that would take at this point.

  “Go upstairs to your room. No TV tonight. No going down to see Honey and her baby.” They’d become Justin’s favorite horses. He went each afternoon to give her a slice of apple and a sugar cube. Gillian hated to keep him from the horses, but he needed time to think about what happened at school today.

  He walked away with his head down and his backpack dragging on the ground behind him. He stomped up the steps and slammed the front door behind him. She remained by the truck. She needed the cold breeze to soothe the hot rage running through her veins.

  Blake left a week ago. She wished he was here to talk and give her advice and perspective.

  They’d spent every waking moment together for the last three weeks after that first kiss in the office. She’d spent much of that time redoing his computer work. She tried to tell him that her grandfather wouldn’t approve of her taking over and that she didn’t know the ranching business well enough to do the job. He balked at all her protests and told her she knew the paperwork better than he did.

  Her grandfather surprised her and agreed with Blake, adding her as a signer to his bank account. Now she ran all the finances and payroll for the ranch. The first week she issued checks to the employees, she found one listed for her. She checked her new system and found that someone had entered her and given her a generous salary. She went to her grandfather and told him that she couldn’t accept a paycheck as well as a place to live. He put his foot down and told her she was part of the family, therefore the ranch was her home, not a place to be earned but a place to be. It didn’t upset her. In fact, she admired his tenacity. He was a lot like her, or she was a lot like him, she guessed.

  Blake took her hand and kissed her palm and told her simply, “Stop fighting it. You’re family.”

  How was she supposed to fight that? The job gave her a sense of purpose. Working with the horses fulfilled her in a way she couldn’t explain.

  She and Blake stole kisses in the stable and held hands as they walked. They went on long rides in the evening after they finished their work. Most times, Justin went with them. Blake never minded including Justin in their plans.

  She’d gotten so used to having Blake nearby that when he left with her grandfather to take several horses to race in Nevada, she couldn’t seem to turn around and not expect him to be there. As she stood in the driveway now, she missed him deeply. When had he become so important in her life that she counted on him to listen to her troubles?

  “What happened?” Grandma Dee asked, walking up to stand beside her.

  “The teacher asked the class to draw a picture of their hero and stand in front of the class and talk about who their hero is and why. He drew a picture of me.”

  “Well, that doesn’t sound like it warrants a parent teacher conference.”

  “It does when the picture showed me with a gun in my hand and our father lying dead in a pool of blood on the floor. He told the children that I’m his hero because I killed our father.”

  She leaned back against the truck and looked up at the snow-­topped Three Peaks looming over the ranch. “Apparently, he’s drawn some other pictures the teacher passed off as his overactive imagination or too much violence on TV. When the teacher put together today’s episode and picture with the others, she had a complete story. She said I willingly put him in harm’s way, and I haven’t provided him with the necessary counseling he obviously needs because of the traumatic event I inflicted on him. She said she wouldn’t be surprised if he felt threatened by me.”

  She fell silent for a moment. Then her anger and frustration and hurt exploded. “Like I’d ever hurt that little boy. Traumatic event. His whole life has been a traumatic event! What the hell does she know about what happened to us? She wouldn’t even let me explain. She called the sheriff to make sure I wasn’t wanted in San Francisco for murder. She didn’t even bother to let me take Justin out of the room when the sheriff showed up to question me.”

  “Did you explain what happened?”

  “Hell no! I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. I gave the sheriff the name of the detective in San Francisco who cleared me. The detective was nice enough to be vague and tell the sheriff the shooting was self-­defense.”

  Gillian pushed off from the car with her butt and took a few steps toward the house, then turned back to Grandma Dee. “I could see it in her eyes. She wasn’t as concerned for Justin’s welfare as she was about getting the dirt on what happened. I can just see what’s going to happen now. All those children are going to go home and tell their parents Justin’s sister is a killer. Their parents will talk to Miss Crane, and she’ll tell them what happened in San Francisco. It’ll spread like wildfire across town.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s what happens in a small town.”

  “I don’t want what I did to affect you and Grandpa. I don’t want it to affect Justin. What will Blake think when the whole town starts talking about me? Us? Oh God, what will his parents think?”

  “This will upset your grandfather and Blake. They won’t like one bit that t
he teacher put you through this today. You didn’t do anything wrong. He deserved what he got. I for one am glad you were there to protect Justin. Just think what might have happened if you hadn’t shown up to stop Ron. I think about that. Your grandfather thinks about that. We know the truth. That’s all that matters.

  “Justin doesn’t know how to express himself in a constructive way. You’re his hero because you saved him. Yes, it was violent, and I’m sorry he had to live through something so terrible, but he did live. And so did you. His nightmares have tapered off over the last few weeks. He only got up once in the night this past week, and that’s with your grandfather and Blake gone. I was afraid that he’d be scared while they’re away. He sure does miss them. But he isn’t scared, because he’s got you. He knows you’ll protect him with your life.

  “You’ve been a good mother to him. He loves you. He’s kind and caring. He befriends everyone he meets, and he trusts others. He’s not a bully or disrespectful. That’s a reflection of you, and the way you’ve raised him. Don’t let his teacher take that away from you. That’s something to be proud of.”

  Justin was a bright, energetic, loving boy. In a few years, he’d forget all about their life with their father. It had only been a short time since they’d come to the ranch, and Gillian already saw differences in him. He was happier, yes, but also more carefree and enthusiastic. Spontaneous, the caution that he usually used in speaking to someone or doing something subsided. He wasn’t afraid to walk into a room without scoping out the situation to make sure it was safe.

  Not like her. Still.

  “You’re right. I overreacted because she made me feel like I’d failed him. I’ve tried so hard to be what he needs. Even though it’s difficult sometimes, I’ve done the best I can. To have someone say that Justin needed something that I didn’t give him really hurt.

  “I don’t want other kids looking at him strangely or picking on him. I don’t want parents to keep their children from playing with him because of what I did.”

  “If that happens, we’ll deal with it. I bet this will all die down in a few days. Now, on a different subject, Blake called. He was disappointed he missed you.”

  “So am I.” Over the last week, they’d used their long calls to get to know each other better. She let her guard down. He opened up about his family, his life. In the quiet evenings, the distance and phone a buffer, her past put aside, they connected on another level. Deeper than they had on the long rides they took together when he told her outrageous stories about the trouble he and his brothers used to get into when they were young. A bunch of rascals, they ran wild, played hard, and loved each other like family should.

  “I want to tell him I got my cast off.” She moved her wrist and wiggled her fingers. Nothing like having her hand free again. “Did he say when he’d be back? I thought he’d be here by now.”

  “He and your grandfather got stuck in a big storm, so they’re staying an extra day at the Fairfield Ranch. They didn’t want to risk driving in the storm with the horses in the trailers. They spook easily. They should be home late tomorrow night.

  “I know it’s not my place, but since you don’t have a mother to talk to, I wanted to ask how things are going between you and Blake. You seem to have grown very close in the short time you’ve lived here.”

  “All I’ve wanted to do since I met him is get closer to him, even though it scares me. We agreed to take things slow. Though now all I want is for him to come home so I can get my hands on him.” She said it without thinking, and the blush sparked at her breasts and spread up to her forehead like wildfire.

  Dee laughed. “Don’t worry, dear. You’re a grown woman, and you know your own mind. Lord, that boy fell hard for you. Do you feel the same way about him?”

  It wasn’t obvious? Did she hide her feelings that well? If her grandmother had to ask, did Blake wonder how she truly felt? Didn’t he know?

  She knew her heart, but maybe she needed to share it with Blake. Scary, but necessary if she wanted this to work. “I love him. I don’t know how it happened, but somehow he got inside my heart, and he won’t let go. I don’t want him to.”

  “Have you told him how you feel?”

  “He knows I care for him. We like being together. Like I said, we’re taking things slow. My feelings and his seem to be a force between us. I don’t know how much longer I can hold off on letting them loose. Do you know what I mean? I’ve never felt this way.”

  Even now, just thinking about him made her stomach knot and her heart beat faster. If he was here, she’d go into his arms and kiss him. She knew exactly what he felt like pressed against her. She knew exactly the way his mouth fit over hers, and how he tasted of coffee and mint, tinged with his need for her. She knew his smell and the way he walked. She knew a thousand little things about him because she couldn’t help but watch him when he was near or ask him everything about himself. She couldn’t get enough of him. And she didn’t think this feeling would ever go away. She hoped it never did.

  “You look for him whenever you have something to say. You look for him at the table in the morning and at night.”

  “I miss him,” she said miserably. “I don’t think I’ve ever missed anyone in my whole life. I’m happy that I have him, and I’m terrified all at the same time.”

  “Sounds like you love him to me. I miss your grandfather something terrible when he’s gone.”

  Things had been building before Blake left. She didn’t want to wait for him anymore. She hoped he didn’t want to wait for her. She loved him. She wanted to show him how much. She missed his kisses and the way he’d always run a hand down her hair. She missed the way he’d come up behind her in the stables and wrap his arms around her and kiss her neck. She missed the way his fingers gripped her hips and pulled her close when they got lost in a kiss.

  She shook off thoughts of Blake. “I need to go up and talk to Justin. I punished him, and that was my mistake. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Talk to him about the reasons you did what you did. He’ll understand.”

  Gillian hugged her grandmother. She’d become a real friend, and Gillian appreciated the easy way in which they talked. No judgment. No telling her what to do. “Thanks for the ear. Does Blake want me to call him back?”

  “No. He and some of the guys are going out. He owed them a beer for all their hard work. I guess they’ve been going at it pretty hard since they left.”

  Gillian frowned, wishing she could talk to him.

  “Does it bother you if he goes out with the guys for a drink?”

  “No. Blake isn’t a drunk. In fact, I haven’t seen him drink at all.”

  “He usually has a beer or two in the evening. Since you’ve been here, he hasn’t. I think he cares enough about you to respect that you might have a problem with him drinking.”

  She wrinkled up the side of her mouth. “Well, I don’t know what to think. He should have a beer if he wants one. It isn’t the same. I know he’s not the same as my dad.”

  “He’s being considerate.”

  “Seems to me that man has been too considerate and it’s holding him back from being himself. I don’t like that. The thing I like most about being with him is that I feel like I can be myself. If he can’t do the same around me, then we have a problem.”

  “Sometimes you really surprise me. That was a very wise observation. You’ll work it out when he gets back.”

  Gillian didn’t know why it made her angry. It just did. She wanted him to stop holding back, thinking that’s what she wanted. Her past made her different from other women. He didn’t treat her like a woman he wanted, he treated her like someone he had to protect, even from himself. She didn’t want just the parts of him he thought she wanted to see and experience; she wanted the whole man. She liked his manners and thoughtfulness, but not if it kept him from being himself. No, that would never do. Ev
entually, he’d resent her, when trying to be something that he wasn’t wore on him.

  “Oh, we’ll work it out all right,” she said to herself and walked up the stairs to see Justin.

  Gillian found Justin lying on his bed. He loved the quilt Blake’s mother made for him. Navy blue with a red fire truck on the top, with a yellow star on the door and a yellow ladder on the back. Legs bent at the knees, he swung his feet and pounded them down on the bed one at a time as he turned pages in his book, looking at the pictures.

  “Justin, we need to talk.”

  “I didn’t mean to get you into trouble with the police.” His eyes glassed over, and his bottom lip trembled.

  She rubbed her hand over his soft hair. “I’m not in trouble, honey. I owe you an apology. I punished you, and you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry I overreacted. You can watch TV tonight, and I’ll take you down to see Honey.”

  “Really?” He bounced onto his knees on the bed.

  She could leave things alone, and he’d be happy with his privileges back, but she owed him an explanation.

  “It must be confusing why your teacher wouldn’t let you talk about why you think I’m your hero.”

  “You are my hero. You stopped him from hurting me. He can’t hurt you anymore either. He was going to kill you. He said so. The police said you didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I didn’t. I protected myself. I protected you. I didn’t have a choice.” Their father took the choice out of her hands when he pulled the gun on her.

  Justin’s steady gaze met hers. “I wanted him to die. I didn’t want him to hurt you ever again.”

  “Oh, honey. I can understand that, but it isn’t right to want someone to die. He needed help. He was not himself when he took drugs and drank all the time.”

  “Taking drugs is bad,” Justin confirmed.

  Proud of him for remembering that lesson, she hoped it held through his teenage years, when he’d be at risk for starting a habit that could ruin his life, like it had ruined both their parents’. She worried about that and would remain diligent about reinforcing the lesson over the years.