Jake

by R. C. Ryan

  “Doing it now.”

  “All right. I have the car outside. Let’s go.”

  She turned away and put a hand against the door to steady herself. She was going to have to do something about this unreasonable fear. She mentally cursed the intruder who had planted this seed of distrust in her heart.

  The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that Jake was right in thinking that she had been the target of this man’s wrath. For whatever reason, he wanted to frighten her.

  And he had done a very good job of it.

  “Come on, Cory.” Meg’s voice sounded shrill to her own ears, and she took several deep breaths, hoping to calm her nerves.

  When she heard no response, she climbed the stairs and stepped into the boy’s room. He was busy stuffing things into a backpack.

  He looked up in surprise, his tone betraying his frustration. “I’m almost ready.”

  Meg felt a wave of remorse. Poor kid. He probably felt every bit as pressured as she did. “It’s okay. Take your time. I’m not in any rush. Do you need any help?”

  “No.”

  As Cory zipped his backpack, Meg paused to study the row of faded photos that lined his dresser top. She picked up one of a young teenage girl laughing with a scruffy youth.

  “Is this your mother?”

  Cory glanced over. “Yeah.”

  She pointed to the boy. “Who’s this?”

  He shrugged and looked away. “Don’t know,” he muttered.

  “You never asked your mother who he is?”

  Cory gave a shrug. “Why do you care?”

  “Maybe it’s her brother. Maybe you have an uncle.”

  “She was an orphan.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “That’s what she said. She was in fos…something.”

  “Foster care?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. That’s it.”

  “And the boy with her? Was he in foster care, too?”

  “I guess. His name is Blain. That’s all I know.” Cory struggled with the zipper of his backpack.

  Something in his tone made Meg look at him, but the boy kept his gaze averted.

  “Well.” She returned the photo to his dresser top and turned away. “I guess we’d better get moving.”

  “I’m coming.” The boy descended the stairs behind her, his backpack looped over one arm.

  At the back door she paused. “Did you remember a toothbrush?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Pajamas?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t need ’em. Figured I’d sleep out in the barn with Shadow.”

  “I don’t know if the Conways will allow it.”

  “Then I’ll sleep in my underwear.” He brushed past her and stormed down the porch steps.

  Meg locked the back door and followed. Once in the car she waited until he’d stowed his things and secured his seat belt.

  She tried to keep things light. “I guess we won’t worry about getting lost on the way to the Conway ranch. It’s just over that hill, right?”

  Cory shrugged and looked out the side window, shutting her out.

  She turned on the radio and fiddled with the dials until she found a station playing country.

  With Carrie Underwood singing, Meg put the car in gear and started along the gravel drive.

  “Right now…”

  As the song’s lyrics rolled over her, Meg added her own in her mind.

  Right now, I wish I were slow-dancing….

  The image of Jake Conway came unbidden to her mind, and she could almost feel his arms around her, leading her in a slow dance around the floor of some dusty saloon.

  Damn the man. One kiss and he’d managed to take over her brain just the way she’d found herself wishing he would take over her body.

  There was just something about that smooth-talking, slow-walking, sexy-as-sin cowboy that had a way of jumbling all her thoughts and making her feel all hot and cold and itchy.

  Yeah. Itchy.

  She almost laughed out loud. That was an apt description of the way she’d been feeling ever since she’d met him.

  But she was a big girl now. Old enough to know that it wasn’t necessary to scratch every itch.

  She would ignore the temptation to get to know Jake Conway better, even though the mere thought of him had her tingling with anticipation.

  Just for a few more days to practice a little self-control. She would try to think of him as a client. One who was strictly off-limits. There had been enough of them in her career. Handsome, successful guys who figured that having a good-looking lawyer from one of the country’s top firms gave them license to ply their charms in the hope of guaranteeing that she would give them her full attention, at least until the trial was successfully completed. She’d learned early on to hold such clients at arm’s length without being too insulting. It took some finesse, but she’d mastered the art to such a degree, she had gained a reputation among her fellow lawyers as being tough as nails.

  That was how she vowed to deal with Jake Conway while she was accepting the hospitality of his family. She was certain she could find some clever ways to keep her distance from one devilishly sexy cowboy for a few days and nights.

  And then she’d get back to reality and get on with her life.

  She was relieved when the Conway ranch came into view over the hill. She was actually looking forward to the teasing jokes and laughter of Jake’s family. After the solemn silence of her father’s house, the noise of living, breathing people would be a welcome relief.

  And while she was here, she would turn the task of evading Jake’s charms into an amusing distraction, to keep her from thinking about the very real danger that lay in wait for her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Meg parked her rental car behind a ranch truck, and she and Cory hauled their gear into the mudroom, where they found Quinn and Cheyenne just washing up from their chores.

  The two were laughing easily together, and Meg found herself thinking how perfectly suited they seemed.

  “Hey, Meg. Let me help you with that.” Cheyenne dried her hands and hurried over to reach for the plastic bin in Meg’s arms.

  “Thanks.” Relieved of her burden, Meg was able to take a firmer grasp of her overnight bag.

  In the kitchen they found Phoebe busy at the stove. She turned with a smile of welcome.

  “Phoebe, if you’d like,” Cheyenne called, “I’d be happy to take Meg and Cory upstairs to the guest rooms.”

  “That would be great.” Phoebe dried her hands on a towel and paused to hug each of them before adding, “I’ll leave you in Cheyenne’s capable hands.”

  Meg and Cory trailed behind Cheyenne as she led them up a flight of stairs and along a hallway until she paused at a closed door. Inside, as she snapped on lights, she chatted happily.

  “This will be your room, Cory.” There were two twin beds, each with matching spreads in muted tans and browns, and a desk with a computer. A flat-screen television was mounted on a shelf on the wall, making it visible from the beds and desk.

  As Cory dropped his backpack in the closet, Cheyenne opened another door to show him the attached bathroom.

  “If there’s anything you need, just let us know. If it’s something a boy would want, you can bet the Conways already have it,” she added with a laugh. “As you can see, they’ve had lots of experience with boys.”

  Cory couldn’t hold back his smile as Cheyenne led Meg from the room.

  Further along the hallway Cheyenne opened another door and stepped inside, throwing on lights while Meg simply gaped.

  It wasn’t just the king-sized bed with its mound of pillows and its creamy comforter, or the lovely curved desk in one corner, or the elaborate flat-screen television. Even the attached bathroom, with the huge whirlpool tub, glass-enclosed shower, and elegant square-cut basin sink couldn’t compete with the view outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.

  “Oh.” Meg caught her breath and Cheyenne turned to see what had he
r gasping.

  Seeing her gaze fixed on the sun setting over the Tetons, with those layers of mauve and pink and purple clouds against a golden background, Cheyenne smiled. “Yeah. It’s pretty spectacular, isn’t it?”

  “I’d forgotten. Or maybe, because I was so young when I left here, I never fully appreciated just how glorious this view really is.” Meg had a hand to her throat, and the look on her face was one of awe.

  “Well, enjoy. The guest suite and the view,” Cheyenne said with a laugh. “And when you’re unpacked and settled in, come on downstairs and we’ll have some time to visit before dinner.”

  “Thanks, Cheyenne.”

  When she was alone, Meg stood by the window for the longest time, just drinking in the view.

  On her flight here she’d been so afraid that she had somehow magnified the beauty of this place in her mind. How could it possibly live up to her childhood memories? And yet here it was, even lovelier than she’d imagined it all these years later.

  Without warning Meg found her eyes filling, and she quickly blinked and turned away.

  She’d learned many years ago to keep her emotions in check. Now, after years of experience, here she was, practically blubbering over a pretty sunset.

  Next, she’d be openly weeping at her father’s funeral. No—there wasn’t a chance of that, she thought fiercely, as she turned away and busied herself unpacking.

  “Cory?” Meg knocked on the boy’s door. “You in there?”

  A minute later the door was opened and Cory stood framed in the doorway.

  “Need any help unpacking?”

  “Naw.” He shook his head.

  Meg wanted to peer past him to see if he’d bothered to hang his things, but he stood barring the way, and she was forced to take a step back. “I’m heading downstairs. Want to come?”

  He shrugged and pulled the door closed before moving along beside her.

  Meg didn’t want to examine her motives too closely, but she felt like a coward for hoping the boy would join her so she wouldn’t feel alone as she faced the Conway family. Not that they were intimidating, but there were so many of them. By having Cory along, she hoped to deflect some of the attention away from herself.

  “Think Jake will be home yet?” By the inflection in Cory’s tone, Meg could tell that he sincerely hoped so.

  “It’s hard to say. He’s been spending so much time on our problems, the ranchers might want their share of his time today.”

  “Yeah.” Cory frowned before stepping into the kitchen. When he caught sight of Jake talking quietly with Phoebe and Ela, his face relaxed into a smile.

  “Hey.” Jake looked over. “I hope you’ve settled in.” His warm smile encompassed both Meg and Cory.

  “Yes. Thanks.” Meg spoke for both of them. “I can’t tell you how impressed I am with the guest room. And the view of the mountains makes it really special.”

  Jake nodded. “Yeah. I can’t think of a better sight every night before falling asleep than the view of the moon hanging over those peaks. When I was away studying, I missed it like crazy.”

  They looked up as Josh and Sierra came in from the mudroom.

  A camera dangled from a strap around Sierra’s neck. Her skin was glowing from a day in the sun.

  After greeting Meg and Cory, Sierra was practically gushing. “Josh and I just got back from the high country. Jake, you should have seen the herd of mustangs. They came within a hundred yards of us, and I got some of the most amazing pictures of a mare and her foal.”

  “Was it the one I told you about? The palomino mare with the foal that’s almost pure white?” Jake asked.

  “That’s the one.” Sierra helped herself to a glass of lemonade from a tray. “I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He’s probably no more than a few months old, and already racing across the fields like the wind. I told Josh that I hope the herd stays around all summer, so that I can get enough pictures to chronicle his development from foal to colt, and then in the years to come, I could capture him as a stallion with his own herd.”

  Meg eyed the camera. “You’re a professional?”

  “Yes.” Sierra took a long drink of her lemonade. “And since settling here, I’ve discovered a real fascination with the wildlife. It’s so romantic. Cattle drives. Wildcats. Mustangs.”

  Meg nodded. “I can see where that would hold great appeal to a photographer. When I was Cory’s age, I took it all for granted. Now, returning after such a long time away, I’m more aware than ever of what a special gift this place is.”

  “Exactly.” Sierra’s voice lowered with passion. “Every morning, when I look at those magnificent Tetons, and see the amazing wild creatures that roam freely, I’m so grateful to be here.” She turned to loop an arm through Josh’s. “Especially since I get to share it all with my very own cowboy.”

  He brushed a kiss over her upturned nose, causing Jake to give a mock shudder. “Would you guys please take that to your room?” He winked at Cory. “In the past year I’ve had to watch both my big, strong brothers turn into—” he made a face that had Cory snorting with laughter “—lovey-dovey, let’s-settle-down-and-only-go-to-town-when-we-absolutely-have-to husbands.” He turned to include Cheyenne and Quinn. “Who are you, and what have you done with my freewheeling brothers, who used to love going to the Watering Hole Saloon with me on Saturday nights hoping to raise some hell?”

  That had everyone laughing just as Cole and Big Jim strolled in from the mudroom, their sleeves rolled to their elbows, hair slicked back from washing at the big sink.

  Overhearing Jake’s words, Cole said, “I’ll take these lovey-dovey men over the crazy cowboys you’re talking about.”

  Jake gave an exaggerated shake of his head. “You see, Cory? Old men and—” he huffed out a breath “—husbands. That’s what we’re stuck with around here. I may have to take you and your sister to town just to save you from becoming as boring as the rest of them.”

  “Who’re you calling old, boyo?” Big Jim nudged Cole, and the two of them started menacingly toward Jake, flexing their muscles as they did.

  “Okay. I’ll take back the ‘old.’ But there’s no denying that my two brothers have turned into doting husbands.”

  “We refer to ourselves,” Quinn said with a laugh, “as the luckiest guys in the world.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about, Cory.” Jake gave the boy a high five.

  They were still laughing as Phoebe called them to supper.

  Dinner was a lively affair, with Josh and Sierra still highly animated as they described the herd of mustangs that had taken refuge in a meadow in the high country.

  It was clear from Sierra’s questions that she was seriously in love with the idea of using the foal she’d seen on her hike in a series of pictures chronicling the life of a mustang.

  It was equally clear that Josh agreed with his wife and thought she ought to actively pursue the project.

  “Even your agent loves the idea,” he said.

  “Yeah.” Sierra’s smile was radiant. “And considering how well he understands the mind of all those art lovers he deals with, I’d say that’s my ticket to go full-steam ahead with it.”

  When the meal ended, Phoebe suggested that they take their desserts and coffee in the great room around the fireplace.

  They were still talking and laughing as they pushed away from the table and walked through the open doorway toward the great room.

  Jake noticed the way Cory halted in the doorway and peered around with a look of extreme caution.

  Turning back, Jake paused beside him. “Something wrong?”

  Meg walked up beside them in time to hear Cory whisper, “Where is it?”

  “Where’s what?” Jake motioned for the boy to follow him, but Cory dug in his heels and stood where he was.

  “The elephant.”

  “Elephant?” Jake looked from Cory to Meg.

  “You said there’s an elephant in the living room, and promised to tell me about h
im.”

  Jake’s lips twitched, and he would have burst into laughter if the boy weren’t so solemn. “I guess I should have explained sooner.”

  “You mean he’s gone?” Disappointment clouded the boy’s eyes.

  “I mean that ‘an elephant in the living room’ is a saying, not a thing.” Despite the words, Jake could see that he was making no sense to the seven-year-old.

  He dropped down on one knee so that his eyes were level with Cory’s. “Let me see if I can make this clearer. There was this little boy. He was just about your age. And his family kept an elephant in the living room. Every day the boy had to step really carefully around that big old elephant, because it took up most of the space in the room. And one day he invited a friend from school to come home with him. The friend saw that great big elephant and said, ‘Wow. You’ve got an elephant in your living room.’ And do you know what the boy said?”

  Cory shook his head.

  “He said to his friend, ‘Doesn’t everybody have an elephant in their living room?’ And his friend said, ‘We had one, but we all stared it down and it got smaller and smaller until it just disappeared one day.’ ”

  Cory looked at Jake blankly.

  Very patiently Jake said, “You can live with something for so long, you think it’s natural, and that everyone else has it, too. Like a dad who never plays with you because he’s too old, and you never talk about it because it hurts too much. Or like a mom who disappears without a trace, and you never talk about it because it hurts too much.”

  Slowly, the meaning began to dawn in Cory’s eyes. “So, you never really had an elephant here? But you had something that hurt.”

  “That’s right. A very big hurt. And because it hurt so much, we all tiptoed around it.”

  “Like the boy tiptoed around his elephant.”

  “Yeah. But one day we got tired of tiptoeing and decided to face it. From that day on, it got smaller and smaller. It hasn’t left yet, but at least it no longer fills up the room.” Still kneeling in front of him, Jake closed his hands over Cory’s shoulders and squeezed gently. “A lot of people have that elephant, and if they face it down, they’ll see it begin to get smaller and smaller, until it fades away completely.”