With his home visible from any place in town, Sam was unlikely to lose his way. “He’ll make his own way home. He’s lost face here. He can’t come back after you dressed him down in front of us.”
“Excuse me, but he’s my son and you can bet I’m going to scold him after he scared me like that.”
“He knows he’s done wrong, but you didn’t give him a chance to apologize before you embarrassed him.”
There was no smile beaming Matt’s way now. Jessica Fremont glared at him for one astonished, infuriated moment, then a mask settled over her features.
It was the darnedest thing, that mask. Her lips curved at the edges—Matt hated to call it a smile, because it was nothing like the one she’d directed at him before. “Thank you for your concern.” She turned and walked toward her car, her steps deliberate, her back straight.
She was great.
“Mmm.” Rex rubbed the back of his neck. “Criticizing Jessica’s mothering might not have been the best way to impress her.”
Matt watched her walk to her car, unable to stop himself. “She was wrong. And who said I was trying to impress her?”
Rex laughed. “I did.”
CHAPTER FOUR
WHY WAS IT PEOPLE kept telling her how to raise her son?
Jessica could feel the rancher watching her as she walked to her car. He had an intense way of looking at a person that made her wonder if he could read her thoughts.
She couldn’t believe he’d dared criticize her. It wasn’t as though he had any kids of his own. She’d recognized him from the auction brochure as the rancher with the horse, and there wasn’t anything in his bio about children, which meant he had no business telling her how to raise hers.
The fact that he might be right only made her madder.
The fact that he was good-looking and right made it intolerable.
It was ridiculous to get all worked up over some stranger’s remarks. She was probably still emotional over the confrontation with Sam.
What had happened to her sweet little boy?
She’d just reached her car without tripping over anything when the door to Twyla’s salon opened.
“Hello, Jessica.”
Jessica’s heart sank as she turned a smile toward Sugar Spinelli, a gossip with money—a lethal combination. Jessica liked her, but her mother-in-law didn’t. It probably had something to do with the fact that the Spinellis, due to oil being discovered on their ranch, were as well-off as the Fremonts, though more flamboyant.
Beside her was the silver-haired Mrs. Duckworth, retired third-grade teacher of nearly every native of Lightning Creek for the past thirty-five years. She’d taught Jessica’s late husband, though she’d retired by the time Sam was in third grade last year.
“Having trouble with little Sammy?” Sugar blew on her newly painted nails.
“Everything’s fine, Mrs. Spinelli.”
She and Mrs. Duckworth glanced at the way Jessica’s car blocked theirs. “It didn’t appear that way to us, hon,” said Mrs. Duckworth, indicating the glass front of the beauty parlor.
“Sam wanted to see the horse and I guess he was afraid I’d say no, so he decided to pay a visit without telling me.” It was best to get the explanation over with.
The two women looked past her. “Yes, tell us about the horse and that fabulous man who’s watching you as though you were the only woman on earth,” Sugar said.
Jessica forced herself not to look.
“Oh, hon, if a man ever...” Mrs. Duckworth trailed off and cleared her throat. “Well, I’d at least look back, that’s for darn sure.”
Their words flustered Jessica, though she didn’t dare show it. “He’s Matt Winston, one of the bachelors in for the auction.”
“Oh, good. He’s here. Matthew!” trilled Mrs. Duckworth, waving her arm.
Jessica still didn’t turn around.
“He was never in one of my classes, but I tutored him in reading. He was a bright boy, but he’d just missed so much school because of that mother of his dragging him all over the place.”
Don’t ask. She didn’t have to with Sugar Spinelli around.
“Drugs? Alcohol?”
Mrs. Duckworth gave Sugar a look. “Men.”
“The poor boy,” Sugar tut-tutted, shaking her head, her amethyst earrings swinging.
“They’re all poor boys,” Mrs. Duckworth said. “But Lost Springs gives them a chance to make something of themselves, and all you have to do is read the brochure to see how successful they’ve become.”
“Are you bidding on anyone, Jessica?” Sugar arched one eyebrow, still pink from the tweezing.
Jessica edged closer to her car. “No, but I’ve got a couple of friends who are.”
“You should, hon.” Mrs. Duckworth patted her on the arm. “Samuel’s been gone a long time and there’s not a body in town who’d blink twice if you started stepping out again.”
“Don’t believe her,” Sugar said. “They’d blink, but only because it’s been such a long time.”
“Thank you. I, uh, need to get back to my houseguests.”
“You know, Sugar,” Mrs. Duckworth was saying as Jessica got into her car. “There are just too many single mothers in this town.”
“Am I not doing my part?” Sugar protested.
“I guess you are. Now, come here and let me introduce you to Matthew.”
Single mother. On the drive home, Jessica thought about what they’d said. She’d never thought of herself as a single mother before, but she supposed that’s what she was. Single mother brought to mind a woman who struggled alone and with too little money. Jessica had always had Rachel around to help—and the ghosts of her husband and his father. She’d never had financial worries, but now she saw that she’d paid for this security by changing herself.
She’d been locked into a way of life and hadn’t known it because she’d never tried to get out the door. But between Sam’s horse and cowboy obsession and Rachel’s attitude toward Jessica’s friends, she now found herself disagreeing and arguing with her mother-in-law. To her surprise, Rachel simply stated how things would be and assumed Jessica would fall into line. And why not? Hadn’t she always?
It had been easier for Jessica to go along with Rachel’s ideas of how she should live and Sam should be raised. That way she didn’t have to think, to make decisions or expose herself emotionally.
She couldn’t believe the woman she’d become. Sam barely knew Jessica’s own parents. Granted, they still traveled as much as ever, but on their few visits here, Rachel had been no more than coldly polite. And Jessica had made no effort to visit them on her own.
She turned into the Fremont private driveway and wondered how she’d come to be in the state she was in—and how she was going to convince Rachel that she didn’t intend to be the passive daughter-in-law anymore.
* * *
THANKFULLY, BREAKFAST THE next morning was very casual. After the strain of trying to pretend that everything was just peachy keen after Sam arrived home last night, Jessica was exhausted.
She’d made a big pot of coffee and set out bagels, muffins and fresh fruit and let Tara and Liz fend for themselves. They were back upstairs getting ready for the auction and Jessica had just poured herself a second cup of coffee when Sam came in looking for breakfast.
“Bakery muffins!” He grabbed a blueberry one while Jessica poured him a glass of milk. Yesterday’s sulking appeared to be past, for which Jessica was grateful.
She was even more grateful that the brochure for Camp Whispering Pines had arrived in yesterday’s mail. She’d looked it over last night and was encouraged by what she’d seen. Except for the horses, there wasn’t anything Rachel should object to.
“Guess what?” Jessica said. “The camp brochure came yesterday.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were sulking in your room.”
“Oh. Yeah.” He looked cowed for about half a second. “Let me see!”
“It’s on the phone table.”
Sam scrambled from his seat and raced across the kitchen. “Can I go? Can I?”
“It looks good, but I need to do a little more checking, and you’ve got to realize that it’s already June. They might be full,” she cautioned.
Sam was pawing through the papers, making a mess in the process. “I can’t find it.”
“It should be right on top.” Carrying her coffee with her, Jessica went to help him look. It wasn’t there.
“I imagine you’re looking for this.” They hadn’t heard Rachel come into the kitchen. She carefully set the camp brochure on the breakfast table.
Something about the way she did so sent a flicker of apprehension through Jessica.
“Hey!” Sam ran back over to the table. “Let me see!”
One look at Rachel’s tight face and Jessica knew she was still facing an uphill battle to convince her mother-in-law to let Sam go. Well, Jessica wasn’t thrilled about Sam’s cowboy and horse obsession, either, but the brochure stressed that campers would be responsible for chores and caring for their assigned horse. Jessica hoped that a couple of weeks of the realities of a cowboy’s life would be enough for Sam. By denying him the opportunity to see what being a cowboy was like, they were only letting him glamorize the life.
“The pictures make the camp seem—” she began.
“Sam,” Rachel interrupted her.
He looked up, his smile fading at the tone in his grandmother’s voice.
“Yesterday, you didn’t come home after the bus let you off. We had no idea where you were.”
“I wanted to see the horse,” Sam said in a small voice.
“And so you did. But such actions have consequences.”
Jessica felt it was time to intervene. “I think that Sam knows he frightened us yesterday and won’t make that mistake in the future.”
She looked at Sam, who immediately shook his head. “No, I won’t.”
Rachel frowned. “I don’t share your conviction that Sam has learned from his behavior, so to help him remember, I called Camp Whispering Pines.”
Jessica got a sick feeling in her stomach.
“They had three openings left. I purchased them and have donated them to the Ladies Auxiliary to be awarded to three needy children. Whispering Pines is now full for the summer.” Her eyes were bright.
“Rachel,” Jessica whispered an instant before a howl erupted from Sam.
“Full? You mean I can’t go?”
“We do not reward misbehavior in this house.”
“No!”
Rachel leveled a look at him. “And furthermore, there will be no more talk of horses, young man.”
He turned to Jessica. “Mom?” His voice broke.
Jessica stared at her mother-in-law, appalled that Rachel had put her in this position. “Sam, I’ll think of something. I don’t know what just now, but you’ll get to go to a camp. I promise.”
“Jessica, it isn’t appropriate—”
“Would you leave us, please?”
Rachel hesitated. “I wouldn’t have had to take action myself if I could have depended upon you to do so.”
Jessica put her hands on Sam’s shoulders. He was trying not to cry, but tears had already spilled onto his cheeks. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m going to take action.”
Without another word, Rachel left the room.
“I knew she wouldn’t let me go,” Sam said with a sniff. He’d stopped crying, but the leaden sound to his voice was worse.
“Sam, I told you I’d think of something. Just give me a few minutes.”
“Mom.” The look he gave her was resigned. “Get real.”
Her own son didn’t believe she could stand up to Rachel. That shook Jessica more than anything else. It hurt, too. But why should he think differently? He’d never seen his mother in action before.
Okay, she’d promised Sam she’d make up for what Rachel had done, so she’d have to think of something. Fast.
An image of a man’s arm protectively draped around her son’s shoulder came to mind. Matt Winston’s arm.
Yesterday, she’d been so relieved to find Sam that she hadn’t paid much attention to what he’d been doing, but in replaying that moment, she remembered pulling Sam to her. There’d been a brief resistance, and she realized that Matt was making sure Sam would be okay with her before releasing him.
There hadn’t been anything threatening in the rancher’s stance, but Jessica had no doubt that if she’d been found lacking in those dark, intense eyes, Sam would still be under his protection.
If Sam was ever going to ride a horse, then that was the man Jessica wanted teaching him.
And it just so happened that he was up for auction in a few hours.
There were times, though not so many in recent years, when Jessica impulsively acted on pure instinct. It had been that way when she’d decided to spend the rest of her life with Sam’s father, and it was that way now.
“Sam, run, get dressed. I’m taking you to the auction with us.”
* * *
THEY PARKED IN the makeshift lot next to the soccer field. Jessica took Sam’s hand and headed purposefully toward the show arena where the auction would be held.
“Here we are, trolling for men. Just like old times, right, Jessica?” Liz eyed the milling crowd around the barbecue.
“I plan to buy a horse,” Jessica murmured under her breath. “The man just happens to be attached.”
“That’s what they all say,” Liz scoffed good-naturedly. “Now, who goes home with me tonight?”
“Shh. The kid’s with us.” Tara jerked her head toward Sam, who was oblivious to everything but the horse stables they were walking past.
“I remember.”
Liz hadn’t been enthusiastic about Jessica bringing Sam with them to the auction, but she didn’t care.
“Jessica, I haven’t seen you so single-minded in years.” Liz raised an eyebrow. “Welcome back.”
“It’s good to be back,” she said, and meant it.
“Yeah, and slow down,” Tara complained. “These boots are killing my feet. The auction won’t start until after the barbecue, right?”
“Like you have any room to eat in those jeans,” her sister said.
“Jealous?”
Liz tossed her head. “Comfortable.”
“Mom, there’s Black Star!” Sam pointed toward the stables and pulled Jessica’s hand.
Jessica saw the horse, but she also saw the man grooming him. At first she admired the contrast his white shirt made against the animal, then she admired the form beneath the fitted shirt. She’d been too relieved at finding Sam, then angry at being criticized to notice much about Matt Winston yesterday.
He had a nice set of shoulders. Just right for giving boys piggyback rides. Just right for...well, she’d stick with the piggyback image for now.
“Let’s go see him!” Sam urged.
Glad to get away from the sisters’ bickering and anxious to take another look at the man she wanted to spend time with her son, Jessica allowed Sam to pull her along. “Kids,” she said by way of explanation.
Tara and Liz waved her away. “We’re going to check out the merchandise.” Laughing, they strutted toward the arena.
* * *
YOU COULDN’T SELL A HORSE without showing him to people, and Matt wanted Black Star looking his considerable best, which meant putting this goop the circus people used on his mane and tail. It sure did make horse hair shine, even without added glitter, but he hoped he didn’t
have to explain what he was doing to anybody.
“Mr. Winston!”
Matt wasn’t called Mr. Winston all that often and it felt strange, especially here at Lost Springs. He knew it was the Fremont boy even before he looked up.
“Hey, Sam.” Hey, Sam’s mother. Matt nodded to her, not sure of her mood after yesterday.
Her smile showed she was making an effort, but it was a little tight around the mouth. “Hello. Sam wanted to visit your horse.” She swallowed.
“His name’s Black Star. Hi, Black Star.” Sam reached out.
“Hang on.” Matt intercepted his hand. “Let him see you first.” Gently he led the boy to Black Star’s nose.
“Hi, Black Star! Remember me?”
Black Star wasn’t any too happy about being uprooted and had been testy this morning with Matt. He wasn’t being much friendlier to Sam.
Fortunately, Lita, Matt’s cook, had packed some of her rocklike gingersnaps with his lunch for the drive here. Horses and various other animals loved Lita’s gingersnaps. The local dentist did, too.
“Here. Try feeding one of these to him.” Matt stepped to the stall door, where he’d draped a tooled leather vest that Frank had insisted he wear during the auction. Of course Frank had meant instead of a shirt, but that wasn’t Matt’s style. Reaching into a pocket, he pulled out a plastic bag and gave Sam a cookie piece. “Flatten your hand.”
Sam did. Black Star’s nose twitched and he deigned to take the cookie.
“It tickles!” Sam laughed and wiped his hands on his shorts.
Matt grinned and glanced at Jessica.
Her smile was wide, but her eyes were bright and she looked like she was about to cry.
What’s all that about? Matt was curious, but wasn’t going to embarrass her by asking.
“Mom, did you see?”
Nodding and smiling, she tucked her hair behind her ear and wrapped her arms in front of her, as if she had to force herself to keep from grabbing Sam away from the horse.
“Sam, if I remember from my days here, that last stall has some steps in it. If you drag those over here, I’ll let you help curry.”
“Okay!” Sam took off.
The Rancher and the Rich Girl Page 5