Harlequin American Romance October 2013 Bundle: Twins Under the Christmas TreeBig Sky ChristmasHer Wyoming HeroA Rancher's Christmas

by Marin Thomas

  Jackson didn’t know what to think. Or how to feel. He’d gone kind of numb, he figured. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

  “What’s the point? It’s sure as hell too late for me to be any sort of real father. The only reason I’m telling you now is so you’ll think about Bobby and what’s best for him. Do you think the memory of a dead father will be enough? Was having an absent father enough for you?”

  Vince knew the answer, of course.

  Just as Jackson did.

  Bob Lambert had been the answer to his deepest prayers. But Bob hadn’t made an appearance in Jackson’s life until he was thirteen years old. He would have given anything to have had a dad like Bob from the start.

  “You’re comparing Bobby to me—it’s not the same thing. His dad died. You just opted out of my life.”

  “That’s true,” Vince agreed. “But I grew up without a father, too. And I’m not sure the reason a boy doesn’t have a father matters. You feel the void all the same.”

  * * *

  JACKSON GOT OUT of Winnie’s car, feeling like a different man than the one he’d been ten minutes ago. He didn’t turn and look as Vince drove off. It was going to take some time to adjust to the fact that the old cowboy was his biological father.

  Right now he just felt numb about the whole thing.

  The dogs came running toward him eagerly. They were anxious to get inside.

  He didn’t seem to care about anything, himself. He went through his usual routine in a fog. Giving the dogs their breakfast, putting on coffee and preparing Maddie’s cereal.

  He heard her coughing as he approached her room, but by the time he knocked, the fit had ended.

  “Come in,” she said, her voice weak and tremulous.

  “Good morning, Maddie.” She looked more pale than usual. He set down the tray, then opened the drapes. “Are you okay?” When he turned around, Maddie had raised her eyebrows.

  “I should be asking that about you. Are you all right, Jackson?”

  Hell, no, was the right answer. But, of course, he wouldn’t say that.

  “You’re the patient, not me. How was your night?”

  She sighed. “Not bad.” She dipped her spoon in the cereal, hesitated then placed the small amount of food in her mouth.

  Vince Butterfield was his father, Jackson thought, as he went back to clean up the kitchen.

  Vince Butterfield is my dad.

  He didn’t know when it would sink in. If it would ever feel real.

  But what did feel all too real was knowing he’d hurt Winnie. Vince had been right about that—she didn’t deserve it. The fact that he was hurting too—because God, how he missed her—that didn’t matter. He’d broken his rule, gotten involved, slept with her and created expectations...

  Then bolted.

  It was wrong, he saw now, to have put his guilt ahead of Winnie’s happiness and security.

  One more thing Vince was right about. He could be a good father to Bobby. He felt it in his bones. Just the way he’d known, when he’d first landed on Coffee Creek Ranch, that he’d found the sort of life where he belonged.

  Jackson spent the morning doing chores around the house, then making Maddie some soup for lunch. She was settled in her easy chair in the sitting room now, and after he’d made sure she was comfortable, he asked if she’d be okay if he went into town for an hour or two.

  “Of course.” She gave him a concerned look, but said nothing further.

  He drove straight to the Cinnamon Stick. It was one-thirty. He was glad to see that no vehicles were parked by the café. The lunch rush must be over.

  He hesitated before stepping inside. For a long time he’d avoided this café, the way he’d avoided Winnie. Knowing she belonged to another man, and knowing how much he wanted her, he hadn’t really had a choice.

  But so much had changed.

  And now he was here to see if Winnie would give him another chance.

  * * *

  QUIET MOMENTS WERE bad for the bottom line. But right now, Winnie was thankful they had no customers. She turned on the dishwasher, then went to wipe down the tables, only to discover Dawn had already taken care of it.

  “Why don’t you take a quick break for lunch now?” Winnie suggested.

  “Thanks. Mind if I dash over to the post office? I ordered the cutest pair of shoes online and I want to see if they’ve arrived yet.”

  Winnie laughed. “Sure. Go ahead.” Dawn was lucky she still lived at home or she’d never be able to afford her shopping habit.

  The young blonde slipped on the coat she’d bought only a month ago, then skipped out the door. Finding herself alone, Winnie sank onto a stool and allowed her head to sink onto the counter.

  The past three days had been miserable. Hardest of all had been putting on a brave face to friends, employees and customers. It was different when Brock had died. Back then everyone had understood that she was falling apart. They’d been supportive and kind.

  But now her heart had been broken and nobody knew. She hadn’t even admitted to Laurel how badly she felt. Mostly because she doubted her friend would understand. For some reason Laurel just couldn’t see that Jackson was it for her.

  The doorbell chimed and a gust of cool air snaked across her back. Winnie jolted upright and put on a smile, then turned around to face her new customer.

  But it was Jackson in the doorway. He’d shut the door but was rooted to the welcome mat.

  Her heart skipped and jumped at the sight of him.

  Traitorous heart.

  She felt her smile slip away until her lips were drawn in a hard, thin line.

  “What are you doing here?” She crossed her arms over her chest, backing up toward the kitchen.

  Jackson never came to her café. So why now?

  She thought back to that morning, seeing Vince park her car in the usual spot before slipping the keys back on the hook and going back to the kitchen.

  She’d wondered what he’d been up to.

  And now she knew. He’d gone to talk to Jackson. Probably told him he’d better do right by Winnie Hays, or else.

  It had been sweet of Vince to try.

  But totally misguided.

  “Think I could get a coffee? One of those cinnamon buns, too?”

  Did he really think it would be that easy? “I’m taking a break right now.”

  He nodded. “Okay. Well, the real reason I came was to apologize.”

  He looked miserable. Which made her angry. He was the one who had run out, who’d trampled all over her heart and her feelings.

  And he was miserable?

  “Sometimes apologies aren’t enough.”

  “You’re right. But they still have to be said.” He moved across the room, stopping at the counter then laying his hands flat on the surface that stood between them. “I panicked that night. I acted like an idiot and a fool. Especially considering I’d just spent the night with the woman of my dreams.”

  His words nestled into her heart, finding a soft spot she hadn’t yet protected. She took a deep breath. Don’t be a fool, Winnie. Don’t fall for this again.

  “Let me guess. You felt guilty when Bobby called you daddy.”

  “Of course I did.”

  She shook her head. There was no of course about it. But he didn’t see that. She didn’t think he ever would.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you that night. I acted like a jerk. Can you forgive me, Win? Give me another chance?”

  She had to look away from him then. Because there was still something about his eyes that drew her in. She had a feeling it would always be this way between them. Which only made this more painful, knowing they could have had something so powerful and good.

  “What are you asking for, Jackso
n? Another chance to feel guilty because you’re alive and Brock isn’t?”

  His brow furrowed as he took in her words. “I’ll always feel bad about that. But that doesn’t mean I can’t love you. And Bobby, too.”

  “Actually, it does. As long as you keep hanging on to that guilt of yours, nothing is going to change.”

  “You’re acting as if I have a choice about how I feel,” he said bitterly. “But if I could turn my emotions on and off so easily, I would have talked myself out of loving you long ago.”

  “Well, maybe you should keep working on it.”

  He went silent, then said softly, “You can’t mean that.”

  “You’ve given me no choice. Now, please leave, Jackson. I’d like to make room for the real customers.”

  * * *

  JACKSON SPED BACK to Silver Creek faster than was safe, but damn it, he’d pretty much had enough. He’d apologized, hadn’t he? Why was Winnie being so bullheaded about this?

  But by the time he’d pulled up to the ranch house, he’d calmed down enough to acknowledge the truth in what she’d said. As long as he felt guilty about Brock, he’d never be able to love Winnie the way she deserved. And he couldn’t be the father that Bobby needed, either.

  They were both, in the long run, going to be better off without him.

  The same would not hold true for him.

  Winnie had been his sunshine, his joy. He’d never replace her in his life. And no amount of time would change that.

  He grabbed the bags of groceries he’d picked up in town and made his way to the kitchen. “Maddie, I’m back. Everything okay?”

  “Fine, thank you.” Maddie’s voice traveled faintly from the sitting room.

  “Would you like some tea?”

  “That would be lovely.”

  He filled the kettle and placed it on the hot cast-iron stove, then put away the groceries. Five minutes later, he carried a tray to the sitting room.

  Maddie seemed to be shrinking a little more every day. His heart constricted when he saw how small and helpless she looked as she smiled at him.

  “You’re a blessing, Jackson.”

  “I’m glad someone thinks so.”

  Her eyes settled on him with keen interest. “Are you finally ready to tell me what’s been going on with you these past few days?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “I have time to listen.”

  She sounded so calm and unjudgmental that he could feel the bands around his chest loosen. He perched on the stool by her chair and stroked one of the dogs at her feet. Honey or Trix. He still couldn’t tell them apart.

  “Winnie and I have been having problems. It’s my fault. I kind of freaked out when I realized her son was seeing me as a father figure.”

  “Why would that frighten you? You seem to love his mother. And you’re so good at looking after people and animals who need you.”

  Was he? He was kind of honored that she would describe him that way. “It’s because I feel guilty about stepping in on Brock’s turf. People keep telling me to get over it, but I can’t. And then Vince showed up this morning and—”

  “Wait a minute. Vince Butterfield was here?” Maddie pressed a hand to her chest.

  “Yup. Came into the barn when I was doing chores. He was mad at me for hurting Winnie. And he told me the most incredible story.” Jackson swallowed, wondering if he could say the words out loud. Maybe it would help make it feel less surreal. “About being my father.”

  “Finally. I was wondering if he would ever do it.”

  Jackson wondered if this woman would ever stop surprising him. “You’ve known all along?”

  “I, too, have played a larger role in your life than you realize, Jackson. But I couldn’t tell you until Vince was ready to reveal the fact that he was your biological father.”

  Jackson stared into the face that he thought he knew so well. “Is this where you finally explain why you’re planning to leave me your ranch?”

  She smiled. “It’s funny in a way. You and I have one thing in common—we’ve both lived with guilt for a very long time. The difference is that yours is self-inflicted. You had no way of avoiding that moose. But me, I hurt Vince badly when I refused to marry him.”

  “But if you didn’t love him, you didn’t have a choice, either.”

  “Oh, I did love him. But I couldn’t leave my father. He had no one by then. He’d never gotten over losing our mother, and I was all he had left. So I said no to Vince’s proposal and stayed on at Silver Creek. I wish I could say I never regretted that decision, but it wouldn’t be true.”

  It was ironic, Jackson thought, how the two sisters had both paid a price for the love of their father. Olive had suffered because she had too little. And Maddie had suffered because she had too much.

  “Vince didn’t take my refusal well,” Maddie continued. “He started drinking. And taking up with casual affairs. He’d never been like that before. And then he got your mother pregnant, and though I begged him to do the honorable thing, he was too far gone with his drinking.”

  “He told me all of that.”

  “Good. But I bet he didn’t tell you that when your mother got into trouble with the law and you were put into the foster program, he came to me and pleaded with me to look after you.”

  “He did?” Suddenly it was impossible to sit still. Jackson got up and paced to the window. Shoving a hand through his hair, he asked, “What did you do?”

  “I couldn’t see taking in a thirteen-year-old boy on my own. So I asked Bob Lambert to do it.”

  “I didn’t think Bob and you were on speaking terms in those days.”

  “Not officially. Bob wanted to support his wife. He really did love Olive, you know. But he had a good heart, and he worried about me living out here on my own. Just the way his youngest son would do when he was older, Bob looked in on me now and then. And he agreed to go see you and think about taking you to live on Coffee Creek Ranch.”

  “That was the best thing you could have done for me.”

  “I’m glad it worked out well. But I know Olive has never really accepted you into the family. That’s why I wanted to give you Silver Creek.”

  Jackson looked at her worn, frail face with wonder. She’d done so much for him. But was it too much?

  “I don’t need to own a ranch. I could always find work as a foreman or hired hand.”

  “You could. But I have this selfish desire to have Silver Creek Ranch become a vibrant, successful cattle ranch again. If I left the ranch to one of Olive’s children, the operation would be merged in with Coffee Creek. But you, Jackson, you could bring this place back to life.”

  “It means that much to you?”

  “Oh, yes. I didn’t have children of my own, so this ranch is my legacy. And in a strange and twisted way, you are the closest thing I ever had to a son.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jackson took a week to absorb the startling news about his father’s identity and Maddie’s subsequent role in his life. He wished he could talk to Winnie about it all, but she’d replied to his attempts to text her with a request that he give her some space.

  So he turned to Corb, who, now that Brock was gone, was the closest friend he had. They went out for a few beers at the Lonesome Spur in town and Corb was astounded to hear that Vince Butterfield was Jackson’s father and that Maddie had been behind Bob Lambert’s decision to take him in as a foster son.

  “Holy crap.” Corb pushed both his hands through his thick blond hair. “Vince, your dad? I never would have guessed.... Though now that I think of it, you’re the same height and similar builds.”

  “Still, it’s crazy, right?”

  “And Maddie actually asked my dad to take you in. That’s another tough thing to believe. All
of us kids have memories of our dad walking right by her in town without so much as a nod of recognition.”

  “I guess he was torn between his own sense of what was right, and being loyal to your mother. Maddie says he used to check on her once in a while. And when her border collie was expecting, he asked if she would give one of the pups to Cassidy.”

  “I’ll tell my sister that. She’s never known the whole story before. When she found Sky in a basket on the front porch on her birthday, Dad couldn’t stop smiling—so we figured he was behind the gift. Mom pretended to be pleased, but we could tell she was furious. She would have known the pup came from Silver Creek. But I wonder if she also guessed then that Dad sometimes talked to Maddie.”

  They’d finished their first beer by then. Corb nodded at the server to bring them another. Then he folded his arms on the table and leaned in closer.

  “So. What’s going on with you and Winnie? Laurel says she’s never seen her friend this miserable. Given what she’s been through the past few years, that’s saying something.”

  Jackson closed his eyes briefly. He hated hearing that she was suffering. Again. And it was his fault. Again.

  “I should have listened to what everyone was saying and kept my distance.”

  “You really think that’s true?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “At first, I did,” Corb admitted. “And so did Laurel. But then I got to thinking what I would have wanted if I’d been the one to die in that car crash.”

  It had almost happened, Jackson reflected, thinking of Corb’s coma and long recovery.

  “If Laurel had been left on her own—she was pregnant, too, at the time, though she didn’t yet know it. What would I want for her?”

  “And?”

  “I’d want her to be with a guy who loved her. I’d want Stephanie to have a dad to protect her.”

  “Really? You could be that generous?”

  Corb sat back in his chair and met Jackson’s gaze straight on. “What kind of man would I be if I wasn’t?”