by Gina Wilkins
The boy let out a gusty sigh, snatched the bag in question and hauled it toward the staircase, his head high, his back straight. If he had any trouble carrying the moderately heavy bag up the stairs, his young male pride didn’t allow it to show.
Scott sent Blair a grin. “Did I mention I’ve done some calf wrangling?”
“Well, this little calf is probably the most stubborn one you’ve ever taken on,” she warned dryly. She noted that Scott didn’t look particularly concerned.
She waited until her nephew had stomped back down the narrow staircase before she carried her own bag up. She was immediately charmed by the loft bedroom. The big iron bed was covered with a hand-pieced quilt in a colorful lone star design; it reminded her of the beautiful log-cabin quilt she’d tried to win at the bachelor auction. Someone else had won that one, and she’d ended up here.
Shaking her head at life’s oddities, she continued her inspection of the room. The mirrored dresser was obviously an antique, as were the nightstand and small stained-glass lamp it held. A little round window cut into the back wall gave a breathtaking view of the mountainside. A skylight in the roof above the bed showed blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds; at night, she would be able to see the stars.
“Scott, this is lovely,” she said, turning to him as he set her suitcase at the foot of the bed. “Is this your cabin or are you renting it for the weekend?”
“It’s mine. Sometimes I need a place to rest and recharge. This is it.”
“It’s wonderful. Are you sure you want to give this room up to sleep downstairs?”
“Don’t mind a bit,” he assured her. “Being downstairs with Jeff will give me a chance to get to know him better. He seems like a good kid beneath the bravado.”
Blair bit her lip. She wanted so badly to believe there was a good kid beneath her nephew’s troubled behavior. She had tried so hard to get through to him, to make up for the neglect he’d received during his first nine and a half years of life. She refused to believe it was too late to reach him.
Remembering the excitement on Jeffrey’s face during the plane ride, she hoped again that Scott would be the one to help him. She was encouraged by the way Scott had bested the boy in their brief battle of wills without setting off a tantrum. “I hope you’re right,” she said. “Jeffrey can be...difficult.”
“He’s dealing with the champ when it comes to that,” Scott answered with another of his quick smiles. “I want to talk to you about him after lunch. I have a few questions for you, if you don’t mind.”
She nodded, aware that Scott couldn’t help her if he didn’t know what he was dealing with.
He turned to look around the bedroom again. “I think you’ll be comfortable here. The bed,” he added, his eyes meeting hers as he patted the quilt with one hand, “sleeps great. I’ve spent many cozy nights in it.”
She swallowed, knowing it was inevitable that she would think of him when she crawled beneath the covers tonight. Had that been his intention? She couldn’t help wondering how many women had shared those cozy nights with him.
“We’d better get back to Jeffrey,” she said, reminding him—and maybe herself—that there would be no shenanigans this weekend.
She thought she heard Scott chuckle as she turned to hurry down the stairs. He seemed to find it amusing when he flustered her. Unless she wanted to spend the weekend being laughed at by him, she was going to have to start doing a better job of hiding her reactions to him.
Downstairs, Scott produced the picnic basket he’d brought with him and set it on the round oak pedestal table at the back of the main room. “Did you say you’re hungry, Jeff? We’ve got plenty of food here.”
Jeffrey looked torn between hunger and sulking. Hunger won. He sauntered to the table, obviously trying not to look too eager. “What’ve you got?”
Scott unloaded fried chicken, coleslaw, fruit and brownies from the basket, along with paper plates and napkins. It was all nicely prepared and packaged and looked quite appetizing. There wasn’t much conversation during the meal; everyone was too busy eating. By the time they’d finished, not a scrap of food remained. Blair didn’t know what they would eat the rest of the weekend, but she assumed Scott had made plans.
Blair asked Jeffrey to help with the cleanup afterward. He did so without enthusiasm, but also without argument, probably because he knew he would lose again.
“Okay, what does everyone want to do now?” Scott asked.
Jeffrey looked around the room. “Got a TV?”
“Nope,” Scott replied cheerfully. “Don’t need one up here. There are too many other things to do.”
“Like what?”
“Fishing. Hiking. Climbing. Watching birds and wildlife. Reading. Thinking.”
Jeffrey rolled his eyes. “I’d rather play video games.”
“You won’t find any of those up here, either. Looks like you’re going to have to find something else to do to entertain yourself.”
“Why don’t we go for a walk?” Blair suggested.
Scott smiled. “Good idea. I think you’ll approve of the scenery I’ve provided. Are you up to a hike, Jeff?”
“Maybe I’ll just hang out in here,” the boy answered, dropping onto the couch with his ever-present backpack beside him.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Scott drawled in that steely cowboy voice he’d used earlier. “Let’s all go for a walk.”
With a deep, long-suffering sigh, Jeffrey rose to his feet. “This is really lame,” he grumbled.
Scott only laughed and casually ruffled the boy’s hair. “Try to contain your enthusiasm, will you, pal? All this hyperactivity is wearing me out.”
Blair would have sworn she saw a quick flash of answering amusement in her nephew’s eyes, but he quenched it almost immediately. Scott definitely had his work cut out for him if he thought he could tame this little calf, she mused.
CHAPTER FOUR
IT WAS NO leisurely stroll down a neatly marked nature trail that Scott led them on, but a brisk hike through the woods. Over rocks and fallen limbs, around tree trunks and half-buried boulders, up steep inclines and down rocky hills. He pushed them like a cheerful drill sergeant, cracking jokes and keeping up a running commentary, but rarely letting them stop. Though she quickly grew hot and winded, Blair couldn’t help but enjoy the walk. It was such a beautiful day, and the scenery was breathtaking. It wasn’t long before Jeffrey stopped lagging sullenly behind and began to wander ahead, chasing squirrels, hopping from rock to rock, swinging on low branches.
“There really is a regular kid inside there,” Scott murmured, moving close to Blair so she could hear his softly spoken comment. “Bright, too. He asked several excellent questions about the operation of my plane.”
“He’s very bright. His standardized test scores are well above average for his age. But his grades aren’t very good, I’m afraid. Although I make sure he does his homework, I can’t force him to do the work he’s assigned during school hours. He doesn’t like his teacher and he simply won’t cooperate with her. I would hire a tutor for him, but he really doesn’t need that. He knows the material, he just won’t use it correctly.”
Scott watched as Jeffrey charged down a hill ahead of them, slipping and sliding down a grassy slope, his arms flailing for balance. “Where are his parents?”
“His mother died when he was four. His maternal grandmother took him in then. She’s a cool, rather distant woman. I only met her a couple of times, but I didn’t care for her. Still, my brother, Kirk—Jeffrey’s father—chose to leave Jeffrey with her until six months ago, when her health became so poor that she was unable to care for him any longer. That’s when Kirk brought him to Lightning Creek to ‘visit’ me. Three days later, he was off on another of his schemes and Jeffrey was left with me. We haven’t seen Kirk since.”
Scott frowned. “You mean your brother just dumped his kid on you without any warning?”
Blair checked quickly to make sure Jeffrey wasn’t within hear
ing distance. She didn’t want him to think of himself as dumped on her. “That about sums it up,” she murmured. “I had no idea Kirk intended to leave his son with me until the morning he left. He asked if I would mind if Jeffrey stayed with me for a week or two, and then he took off. I knew right then that I’d be raising Jeffrey until he’s grown.”
“I hate to criticize your brother—”
“Trust me,” Blair cut in, “you couldn’t say anything about Kirk that I haven’t already thought. He’s irresponsible, unreliable, immature and selfish. He’s a reckless dreamer, unwilling—or unable—to settle down and build a respectable life for himself. He’s very much like our father, actually. My dad was always pursuing some crazy scheme, though he never actually abandoned his family—not until he was killed. He had decided to become a demolition expert, you see. Unfortunately, he wasn’t very good at it. He blew up a condemned building—and himself along with it.”
Scott turned and leaned against a tree trunk, studying her with an intensity that made her self-conscious. She’d been trying to ignore the inconvenient attraction she felt for this man, but it wasn’t easy when he stood so close, his gleaming eyes focused on her face. “How old were you when your father died?” he asked.
“Nineteen, a sophomore in college. Kirk was twenty-one and living in Alaska at the time. Prospecting for gold, if I remember correctly.”
“Is your mother still living?”
“Yes. After Dad died, she moved in with her widowed sister in Arizona. Since then, she’s been living on investments from Dad’s insurance money. Her life has been much more peaceful since my father died, but she has never stopped missing him. For all his flaws, she loved him. As I did,” Blair admitted. “Unfortunately, my brother inherited all my father’s worst traits and very few of his better qualities.”
Scott glanced over at Jeffrey, who was investigating a small hole in the side of a hill. “How does the boy feel about his father?”
Blair sighed. “He idolizes him. To Jeffrey, Kirk has always been the exciting stranger who shows up unexpectedly bearing exotic gifts and telling adventurous stories and making extravagant promises. Jeffrey’s only seen Kirk a handful of times, but he has always dreamed of the day he would take off on an adventure with his father.”
“And you doubt that will ever happen?”
Staring bleakly at her young nephew, her heart aching for him, Blair moistened her lips. “Kirk didn’t even tell Jeffrey goodbye when he left this time. He took off before Jeffrey woke up, leaving a note that said, ‘See you soon.’ I begged Kirk to let me wake Jeffrey, but he said he wasn’t into goodbyes. He didn’t want to see the tears.”
“So he left you to deal with them instead.”
Remembering Jeffrey’s heartbroken sobs, Blair swallowed and nodded. “The best I could,” she whispered. “I don’t know how much comfort he found with me...after all, I was practically a stranger to him then. Every time I tried to put my arms around him, he stiffened and pulled away from me.”
Scott nodded, as if he understood Jeffrey’s behavior very well. Remembering his stay at the Lost Springs Ranch, Blair thought that perhaps Scott did understand—at least a bit better than she did. It was that possibility that gave her hope something positive would happen between Jeffrey and Scott this weekend.
“Do you mind if I ask one more personal question?”
She shook her head, thinking that Scott couldn’t really help if he didn’t know what he was dealing with. “What is it?”
“How do you feel about Jeffrey?”
Caught off guard, she blinked. It was something she hadn’t given a great deal of thought to, she realized uncomfortably. She’d been so overwhelmed by responsibility and worry that she hadn’t had time to analyze her feelings. “I...want him to be happy,” she said haltingly. “I want him to make friends and get good grades and have a successful future—unlike his father and grandfather.”
Scott shook his head. “You’re telling me what you want for the kid, but you aren’t telling me how you feel about him.”
Looking toward the young boy who peered so curiously into the dark hole, Blair bit her lip. She thought of the nights she’d stood over Jeffrey’s bed, aware of how small and vulnerable he was beneath his tough-guy act, wanting so badly to give him a better life than he’d had so far. The times she had ached to hug him and let him know someone cared about him, but hadn’t because she wasn’t sure he would accept her hug. “I’m...very fond of him.”
“Hmm. I see I have my work cut out for me,” Scott murmured.
Blair watched as Jeffrey grew tired of the hole and wandered off with his head down and his shoulders hunched. “Yes. He’s very angry about everything that has happened to him.”
Scott pushed away from the tree and gave her what appeared to be an oddly pitying smile. “I wasn’t talking about the boy just then.”
Before Blair could ask what he meant, he moved briskly away. “Hey, Jeff. Let’s walk down to the stream and see if we spot any fish to catch later.”
Blair stared after him for a moment in confusion, then had to hurry to catch up when the guys headed down the hill without looking back at her.
*
DURING HIS TIME at Lost Springs and in the years since, Scott had met some kids who were serious trouble. Seething, volatile—dangerous, some of them. Jeffrey was angry and sullen, which was perfectly understandable for a boy who’d been abandoned by nearly everyone he’d counted on. But he was far from a hopeless case. He was still very young and obviously bright, and it was apparent that he’d been given fundamental training in manners, though he didn’t go out of his way to display them. He expressed his unhappiness in small ways—sulking, grumbling, moodiness—but hadn’t yet taken it to extremes. Scott thought he was basically a decent kid, just one who was hurting and needed a way to work out his feelings.
He found it all too easy to identify with young Jeffrey Townsend. After all, he had been just like him, only worse. Who knew where he would be today, how far his rage would have taken him, if it hadn’t been for the guidance he’d received at Lost Springs?
Jeffrey wasn’t nearly as far gone as Scott had been. And Scott hadn’t had the benefit of a committed, concerned Aunt Blair.
Leaning one shoulder against the rough bark of a pine tree, he watched Blair and Jeffrey as they stood side by side, looking into the stream for fish. They weren’t touching, but they leaned slightly toward each other—as if they wanted to touch, but didn’t quite know how. Jeffrey wasn’t the only Townsend who had issues with family, he mused. He’d heard a lot of bitterness in Blair’s voice when she’d talked about her father and brother and some distance when she’d spoken of her mother.
Scott had never claimed to be an expert on family relationships, considering how long it had been since he’d had any personal experience with such things, but it looked to him as though Blair and Jeffrey needed each other. Maybe there was something he could do to bring them closer together this weekend.
And, speaking of getting closer...
He looked at Blair again, aware of a renewed tug of attraction. He remembered the moment when their gazes had met across the bed in the loft room. He’d found himself wondering then what it would be like to share that bed with her. Would she make love as primly and methodically as she seemed to do everything else? Would it be as difficult for her to express her feelings there as it had been for her to say how she felt about her young nephew? Or would the latent spark of impulsiveness that had made her bid on him at the bachelor auction reassert itself in the bedroom?
He was surprisingly eager to discover what it would be like between them. And when she turned, noticed him watching her and sent him a quick, slightly shy smile, he knew it was inevitable that he would try to find out. Yet he doubted that Blair would be quite as cooperative about that as she’d been about the other plans he’d made for them thus far.
He definitely had his work cut out for him.
*
BLAIR WAS QUITE s
urprised when Scott somehow enticed Jeffrey into racing him back to the cabin. They scrambled over rocks and limbs, skidded perilously on slick spots, stumbled in occasional holes, shouted challenges at each other. And while she wanted to warn Jeffrey to be careful, Blair bit her tongue to remain silent for fear of ruining the moment. Just then, Jeffrey seemed like an average little boy, loud, boisterous, reckless, carefree. He had forgotten to be sullen and angry. And it was all because of Scott, she thought, watching as he dashed down the hill with much the same abandon as the boy. Scott was a bit eccentric and definitely unpredictable, but twice today he’d been able to connect with Jeffrey, giving Blair hope for significant progress during the remainder of the weekend.
Scott didn’t hold back to allow Jeffrey to win their impromptu competition. Though the boy gave him a good race, Scott’s longer legs were an advantage. He reached the cabin several seconds before Jeffrey.
“No fair,” Jeffrey protested loudly, his breath ragged. “You’re bigger than me. I should have gotten a head start.”
Blair’s smile turned to a grimace. Jeffrey was not known for being a gracious loser. Maybe Scott should have...
“Who ever told you life was fair?” Scott drawled, leaning against a porch post without even looking winded from the race. “And what made you think you’d be getting head starts whenever you wanted them? In a race, it’s every man for himself, kid. The trick is to give it your best shot—and to take advantage of your natural strengths. My legs are longer than yours—I took advantage of it. And I won. Don’t expect an apology, but I will congratulate you on running a good race. You gave me quite a challenge.”
Blair half expected another bout of sulking. Instead, Jeffrey only stuffed his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “Whatever,” he said, but without the belligerence she had come to expect from him when he was thwarted. “What are we going to do now?”
“You and I are going to do some maintenance work,” Scott replied cheerily. “Your aunt Blair is going to relax with a good book for a while. Something tells me she hasn’t spent enough time relaxing lately.”