“A paragon.”
Her wry tone made Jack laugh, then he tweaked one of her curls as he faced her more directly. “Jealous, Liv?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, cowboy. She’s taken, anyway. But the waitress making moon eyes at you from across the room...?”
Jack turned, saw the younger woman staring and flashed a smile back to Livvie. “I guess when you’ve got it, you’ve got it.”
“Blech. Why don’t you move over to where Julie was sitting so we don’t give folks the wrong idea.”
“Not on your life, I think we’re giving folks the right idea just as we are. And I’m trusting it’s not a one-sided mission on my part.”
* * *
Jack, flirting with her. Jack, smiling at her. Reaching for her hand as he teased.
Julie’s quiet message came back to her, a whisper on the wind. He’s the one.
But she’d thought that once and came away brokenhearted and more than a little jaded.
Doesn’t matter, scolded the inner voice, sounding a little cross. What’s right is right. He’s the one.
“You okay?” Jack kept his hand resting on top of hers, the strength of big, broad fingers making her feel cherished and safe.
“No. Yes. I don’t know.”
“Then we take time until you do know.” He didn’t preface the words with anything, and he didn’t belabor the advice, total Jack. Straight-shooting, simple and true. And maybe grown up now?
One look at the stubble darkening his cheeks and chin said yes. Jack was all grown up. And available. And showing an interest she’d dreamed of years ago.
Maybe you never stopped.
That thought humbled her, but as Jack started to talk easily about Dilly and the mares, and how they got through the day, her heart relaxed, listening.
She loved ranch talk. Hearing Julie’s tales, reading the tired emotion in Jack’s voice, she realized how much she’d missed, living in the city. The air, the sun, the sky, the storms, the daily vivid and vibrant existence of Big Sky country.
She felt good being here. She knew she could help her family if she stayed. But if this job possibility became a reality, how could she turn it down? There was little or nothing to do in Jasper Gulch unless you were a first responder, teacher or rancher. The smattering of shops were capably run with their staff-on-hand, and the local schools weren’t in need of additional help.
Which left pretty much nothing in the way of employment for a degreed professional.
“Do you mind if we miss ice cream tonight?”
The tired note in Jack’s voice made her want to ease his long day. “Not at all. I’ll catch you another time. I’m sure Grandma will be worn-out, and it’s probably best to give her time to make the adjustments.”
“I’ll check in tomorrow.” Jack stood, grabbed the check from the young waitress and seemed oblivious to her wide-eyed admiration, a reaction that drew Liv’s heart closer to free fall than it should ever be as they left the diner. “You working at City Hall during the day?”
“Not until the afternoon. Mom’s got some things to do with Grandma, setting up doctors and all that, so I’m hanging with Grandpa first thing. Then research. Then—”
“How ’bout if you come out to the ranch for supper and we take care of the horses together, then? I’ll grill us a steak over the wood fire and we can compare notes on the baseball game.”
“The baseball game is completely planned and needs nothing more,” she reminded him, but he laughed that off.
“Then we’ll just eat and walk and talk. Like we used to, Liv. A long time back.”
He paused outside the restaurant door, waiting for her answer, and as an eastbound zephyr played havoc with the left side of her hair, Jack cradled his hand against the errant locks, holding them still. His eyes locked on hers, the scent of his skin a reminder of farm-life jobs and quick soap-and-water cleanups.
Her heart picked up rhythm. Her muscles relaxed. Staring up at him, feeling his hand cupping her cheek, brought a mix of feelings and memories, twined together, indivisible. But for this moment, she didn’t want to think rationally. For this moment, she longed to step back in the hourglass and be Jack’s girl. His woman. His wife.
“McGuire, you old dog, how’s tricks?”
Liv stepped back, saved by an unknown voice.
“Walters.” Jack’s expression said he rued the interruption, but they were standing in the middle of Main Street, a wake-up call for Liv. Folks would never stop supposing one thing or another when she managed to give them reason to talk by making eyes at Jack in the middle of town. She took a second step back and waved goodbye. “I’ve got to go get Grandma. Good seeing you, Jack.”
“Liv, I—”
“Hey, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” the dark-haired wrangler protested. “Just saw you here and hadn’t said hey in a couple of years. Good to see you around, man.”
The cowboy’s words reminded Liv she wasn’t the only hurting soul in this whole scenario. Jack’s life had been turned inside out with his mother’s passing. He’d stayed secluded until recently. Maybe they both needed time and space to figure things out. She couldn’t justify jumping into anything without examining every angle, and that wasn’t just the researcher within. That was the woman scorned, twice burned, thrice careful.
Her cell phone buzzed as she approached the inn’s entrance. Jack, texting, wondering if she’d agreed to tomorrow night.
She hesitated, eyeing the screen, knowing what she wanted to do and how vastly it differed from what she needed to do.
A second text came in, as if he sensed her indecision. She scanned the text then turned to see him watching her from Main Street, his phone held high. She growled at the phone, the few words meant to stir her overt sense of guilt.
The horses, remember? You promised.
He wasn’t playing fair, but he was right, so she stabbed a quick yes into the phone with more energy than needed because she knew she should step back. Shy away.
But that was the last thing she wanted to do, and she had promised to help with the horses, a promise she’d break if she moved to Bozeman in two weeks.
The very thought made her restless, but a paycheck was a necessity in the adult world. Having to pay off college loans meant she needed to earn money. But the thought of Jack and the horses and a wood-fired steak?
Those images said Monday evening couldn’t come fast enough.
Chapter Ten
“Janie. What’s for supper?” Grandpa wondered late the next morning.
“I’m Liv, Grandpa, Janie’s younger daughter. Supper’s not for a while, but I made tuna for lunch.”
Tom Mason peered at her as if sorting her two-part answer was too much. He frowned, glanced around and shrugged. “You got a nice place here.”
“Thanks, Grandpa. You haven’t seen it in a while.”
“What?”
Liv came and sat next to him. Grandpa had been hard of hearing for years, a problem that used to be solved with a pricey but effective hearing aid. Now he wouldn’t wear the small earpiece and no amount of cajoling would work, according to her grandmother. “I said you haven’t been here for a few years. The last time you and Grandma came to Montana was for my wedding.”
“You married?”
She started to answer, but Grandpa beat her to it. “Well, sure you are. You and Dave had a real nice wedding and we threw a great party. The Deans were there, the Garbowskis, the Footes. And the mayor of Deutschtown came. Remember?”
She didn’t remember because she hadn’t been born yet, but looking into Grandpa’s dark eyes, seeing the faded telltale gaze of confusion, she patted his hand and gave him a hug. “What’s your favorite lunch, Grandpa?”
“No, thanks, we just had supper. Mom cooked me up some chicken gizzards the way I like ’e
m.”
Mom had done no such thing, and Liv would be amazed to see her mother frying up a cast-iron kettle of chicken gizzards in the kitchen, but if going along was what it took to make Grandpa happy, so be it. “Let me know when you get hungry, Grandpa.”
“That tuna sounds okay.”
Liv stood up. The worst that could happen would be she’d wrap the tuna and tuck it in the fridge for later. But if she didn’t make it and Grandpa decided he wanted it, she’d feel bad making him wait.
He moved to the front porch, sat down in one of the rockers and sighed deep, the slow back-and-forth motion peaceful and restive all at once.
His confusion created a can of worms. He couldn’t make decisions, so Grandma made them for him. But he grew angry if he realized he wasn’t consulted, so the few moments of clarity became their own problem.
A conundrum of emotion, that’s what this illness created. Confusion, mix-ups, misunderstandings, and all because Grandpa’s cluttered brain could no longer sift the present from the past with any degree of accuracy.
And Grandma, riled over the move, frustrated by Grandpa’s growing restlessness, and upset by a world fraught with change—she’d seemed depressed that morning, and Liv found herself praying for the elderly woman’s peace of mind. But when Liv had come back in from putting out the recycling totes, Grandma had been bent over Grandpa, her face serene. “I’m going out for a little bit, Tom. We need to find new doctors here, so Janie and I are taking time to do that this morning. Livvie’s here with you.”
“Who?”
“Livvie. Your granddaughter.”
“You got a granddaughter?” He looked at her, surprised. “Well, you don’t look old enough to have a granddaughter, pretty lady.”
Her grandma had smiled, patted his hand and stood, but Jane read the fatigue in her face. The stress in her neck, the way she shifted her shoulders to ease the tightening.
But when Grandma turned back to Grandpa, she masked the dismay. He saw nothing but a peaceful smile. “I’ll be back soon.”
“You bringing your granddaughter along?”
“I just might.”
Grandma had turned, saw Liv watching, and she made a face as she came closer. “Half the time I don’t know if I should play along or explain the truth. And it really doesn’t make much difference because he might not remember either half an hour later.”
“But you still try.” Liv reached out and hugged her close. “You’re pretty amazing, Grandma.”
“A body can’t quit trying just because things go bad, can they?”
They could. Liv knew that firsthand. But should they? No.
“And I keep thinking if things were reversed, Tom Mason is about the nicest man known to mankind. He’d treat me good if it was my brain having issues. He’s been by my side through thick and thin for nearly sixty years. We’ll get through this. Though coming here, moving in with your mom and your dad, well.” Worry clouded her eyes. “I know it couldn’t be helped, but the very thought of starting over made me feel old.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” Liv stepped back and swung the door wide. “I can make up for being stupid and not getting over to Michigan to see you guys more often.”
“Oh, Livvie.” Grandma made a face that said her granddaughter was being downright silly. “Young people need to live their lives, get settled, get jobs, pay bills. Grandpa and I know how it is, we understand. Don’t you fret about things like that.”
“I won’t now that you’re here because I’ll get to see you often.”
“A silver lining.”
Her mother had called Grandma’s name right then, and they’d gone off together with plans to have lunch when their errands were complete. That thought sparked interest in Grandma’s eyes, and Liv wondered how often she’d been able to get out with Grandpa’s condition worsening.
Seldom, if ever, she supposed.
Her cell phone rang with a call from Robin. “Hey, what’s up?”
“I accidentally eavesdropped on a conversation in the hall and it seems that folks think the vandalism going on lately is related to the capsule disappearing.”
“Except we have no idea why the capsule disappeared, and the rodeo stuff wasn’t all that unusual, especially if you’ve got people who’ve been partying too much. I don’t get how the two things could be linked or why it matters.”
“Well, Cal Calloway was here talking to Hannah, and I heard him asking her questions. And he’s really nice looking, so I happened to need some water at that very moment.”
Liv laughed. “He’s a great guy and a good deputy sheriff, but I wonder why he’s nosing around City Hall for answers? But I guess they’ve got to do some kind of investigation.”
“Well, that’s just it,” Robin told her. The softness of her voice said she didn’t want to be overheard. “Mayor Shaw brushed him off, made like the capsule was no big deal and probably a kid’s prank, nothing the sheriff’s department should worry about.”
“He said that? To Cal?” Livvie was no cop, but she’d known Cal since they were kids. Honest, fair and a good ballplayer, Cal wouldn’t be put off by the mayor’s interference, but he might find his interest piqued. And why wouldn’t the mayor want everything possible done to find the capsule and the culprit behind the vandalism at the rodeo?
“He did and the deputy let him have his say, just nodding. Making a couple of notes. But when he left, I got the feeling this wasn’t the end of anything.”
“For something that’s just supposed to be fun, our centennial is taking on a dark side.”
“Coincidental, I’m sure.” Robin’s voice came back to regular level. “And I’ll look forward to seeing you later this afternoon, Liv.”
Obviously she was within hearing range and attempting to look normal. The thought of Robin Frazier, woman sleuth, made Liv smile, right until she realized she’d lost her grandfather. “Robin, Grandpa’s gone. Gotta go!”
* * *
Jack rubbed the tight knot of Liv’s right shoulder as she recounted her less-than-stellar elder-care experience.
“I can’t believe I lost him.”
“You found him.” He worked the tight band of muscle stretching from her very pretty neck to her upper arm. “Let’s accentuate the positive. Do you knot up like this every time you get tense, Liv?”
She sent a rueful look of affirmation up to him. “From that old riding accident when I was twelve. It tweaked that right side and everything pinches when I get riled up. And no one goes through life without getting riled now and again. But it feels better now. Thank you, Jack.”
“My pleasure, ma’am.” It was, too, but he held back romantic innuendo because she’d been through a rough experience. “Grandpa walked all the way into town through the back fields?”
“For the first part.” Glum, she sighed, and Liv had never been a woman who sighed. “What if something happened to him? What if he’d gone into the creek—”
“It’s barely a trickle right now.”
“Or wandered into the mountains?”
“He didn’t. Quit borrowing trouble and beating yourself up. How’d your grandma react?”
“I didn’t tell her.”
He pulled back, surprised. “You didn’t tell her? Won’t she find out?”
“I’m giving it time.” Guilt stamped her features. “As much as I need to recover from our little misadventure.”
“But someone will rat you out.”
“Naw, they won’t. When I found him, I pretended he got ahead of me on our walk. Which he did,” she added in defense of herself. “Although the walk was an unscheduled part of our morning.”
“Wouldn’t it help your grandma to know he wandered, though?” Jack wondered. He sat down across from her on the broad front porch and reached for her hands. “That way sh
e can be on guard. I know Cord Shaw gets worried about how Lulu Jensen is getting on. He thinks she’s in the beginning stages and she’s got a kid to raise, her granddaughter.”
“Lulu’s about the sweetest, kindest person on the planet.”
“I know. It’s a problem, for sure. And while no one wants to interfere with her life, there’s a twelve-year-old—Cord’s goddaughter—who is at risk if Lulu’s going downhill. No easy answers, Liv, but maybe if your grandmother was aware of his wanderings—”
“She knows he wanders,” Liv interrupted him with a grimace. “I was careless about not closing the front gate. If I had, he might not have slipped out of the yard so easily. But I feel dreadful, locking him in. It’s not right, Jack.”
“Would you feel that way if it was a kid?”
She looked up, surprised. “To keep a little one out of the road? Of course not.”
Jack shrugged. “Same thing, different generation. Your grandpa’s reasoning isn’t what it used to be. He can’t keep himself safe, so it’s up to us to do it for him. Just like having a child who can’t discern right from wrong yet.”
“But it’s demeaning. Isn’t it?”
“Not in the least. It’s respecting this illness for what it is, a rough disease that robs an older generation of reason. But that’s where we come in.” He stood and pulled her up with him. “We can keep him safe, Liv. You, your parents, Grandma and the town. But only if we look at this realistically and understand his limits.”
Tears filled her eyes. For Grandpa? For Grandma? For the whole wretched situation of watching someone you love slowly succumb to a mind-numbing illness?
A mix, most likely, but no matter. He pulled her into his arms, holding her, hugging her, letting her tears wet his shirtfront, wishing he could make this all go away. He couldn’t, but he might be able to make things easier by helping out. “Liv, I—”
He drew back and tipped her tear-streaked face up.
His heart melted. His pulse paused, then thrummed as his eyes met hers. The feel of her chin against his fingers, the scent of her hair, sugar and spice, the track of tears slipping down her cheeks.
His Montana Sweetheart (Big Sky Centennial Book 2) Page 12