He understood about the me time. He had understood everything about her.
Including that she’d loved someone else first. That she’d married him by default.
The thought hurt her still. She had learned to love David—who wouldn’t? He’d saved her. When she’d been a frightened, abandoned, pregnant seventeen-year-old, he’d been the white knight who’d rescued her. He was the kindest man, bar none, she’d ever known—light years apart from her father, who’d terrorized her birth family until she’d gratefully escaped into marriage.
Vernon Patton was dead now, and she couldn’t mourn him. The world was a better place with him gone. He would have killed Jackson and her both if he’d known about their relationship.
And there it was, the reason she couldn’t sleep last night.
Jackson was home.
Veronica didn’t get angry often or easily. Most days she was too tired to work up a good mad.
But she wanted to shake her fists at the sky.
Wanted to slap his too-handsome face.
Wanted to run away and hide until this nightmare was over. Why now, when she was standing on shaky newborn foal legs, barely climbing out of her grief and struggling every day to hold this place together?
He’d left her. Abandoned her when they’d had such plans. They were going to escape Sweetgrass and the hell that was her life, they were going back east where he had already been accepted to MIT with a full scholarship due to his math genius. She was going to pursue her painting, and they were going to travel the world.
Then his mother had died, and he’d grown wilder and wilder, careening through the days with no compass but her. He’d started drinking too much and fighting at the drop of a hat, but he’d still turned to her, and she’d done everything she could think of to comfort him. To bring him back to the Jackson she knew.
But then Beth Butler had died, and Jackson had survived the wreck with barely a scratch—physically, at least. He’d become the town pariah, and every day he’d drifted further from her.
And none of that, not one whit, had changed how she felt about him. She had been ready to follow him to the ends of the earth.
Instead, he’d vanished without a word.
And two weeks later, she’d realized she was pregnant.
Not once over the last sixteen years had she heard one word from him.
She’d thought at first he was dead. Surely only death would have kept him from contacting her.
They’d loved so deeply.
Or maybe only she had.
It didn’t matter. She had no idea where he’d been or why he was back.
She didn’t care. I was married to a far better man I took too long to love. But she had loved David, and now her heart was gone. What she had left of it was reserved for her children, for this ranch that was David’s legacy as heir to one of the four founding families of Sweetgrass.
“Mom? Are you okay?”
She jolted. Glanced at her watch and rose. She’d gone past her thirty minutes. “Your alarm went off?” she asked Ben. She tried to always wake him before that to give him a gentle beginning to the day.
He nodded. “It’s no big deal. Want me to get the girls up?”
He had football practice early and chores before that, yet this earnest, grown-up-too-soon son of hers was once again ready to pitch in when he should have been thinking only about girls and the next game.
“No, I’ll get them. I’m sorry. I was just thinking, and I lost track of time.”
“You work too hard, Mom. I know we can’t afford to hire any help, but I could talk to Ian…”
“No!” she said too quickly. Ian McLaren had been David’s best friend and too often he stepped in to help when he had his hands full already. She softened her refusal with a smile. “Not you, too. I’m fine, I promise.”
“Mackey and Rissa would help, or I could get some of my friends—”
She stopped in front of him, this son whose character had been formed by the strong, loving father he believed was his own, and laid a hand on his cheek. “I’m okay, I promise. Your job is school.”
His eyebrows rose.
“Okay, and feeding the goats and chickens and maybe a few things more.”
He grinned. “I already know how to drive, you know. Pretty soon I’ll be able to get my license, and I can make deliveries for you.”
He had a heart as big as his father’s. The father who mattered. “How did you get so grown up?”
Ben winced. “Don’t say my baby or we’re gonna have problems, Mom. Just don’t go there.”
But he was smiling as he admonished, and she had to laugh. “You’ll always be my baby boy in my heart.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re trying to scare me, but it won’t work.”
She rose to her toes and kissed his cheek. “Okay, tough guy. Mum’s the word. Now let’s get this day started. I’ll wake the girls, then get cracking on breakfast.”
“Sir, yes sir—headed for the barn.” He snapped off a crisp salute and stepped off the porch. “Come on, Boo. Time for your dog chores.”
Boo glanced back at her as if he sensed her disquiet. He probably did.
“You go ahead, sweet boy.” She stroked his fur one last time and grasped the door handle to go inside and begin her day.
Jackson wouldn’t stay long, surely.
He couldn’t leave soon enough.
One last cast of her eyes to the sky. Please. Make him go. She’d vowed not to break, to persevere until she found the right formula to make all this manageable.
But Jackson could break her if she let him. She would stay away from town until he was gone.
Then she remembered Eric Bronson’s surprise birthday party at Ruby’s was tonight. The poor child had been orphaned, and her twins were his friends.
Why couldn’t Ruby and Scarlett take honeymoons like normal people? Of course, neither had known she would be getting married yesterday, only that the other one would.
It was a Monday. Maybe Jackson would have already gone back to work.
He can’t get to you if you don’t let him, a saner part of her ruled. Just treat him as someone you used to know.
And forget he was someone you loved.
Sure thing.
Footsteps pounded up the stairs, and Jackson’s eyes popped open just as the door burst open. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” Ian said far too cheerfully.
Jackson sat up.
“Hey, Wiz,” greeted Mackey from right behind him.
“What the hell are you two doing here?” The sight of those two familiar grins called forth one of his own.
“Yanking your lazy ass out of bed,” Mackey said.
“You must be a city boy,” Ian added. “Hell, the morning’s half-gone.”
“Not on my body’s time.” Jackson grabbed his phone and checked the time. “It’s barely seven.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You always were a night owl.” Ian flipped the covers off him. “Let’s go.”
Chilblains broke out on his bare chest. “Where are we going?”
“You got something besides those fancy-ass slacks?” Mackey asked. “’Cause, dude, you outgrew both of us.”
Ian was tall, and Mackey was over six feet, but Jackson had gotten to six five before he stopped shooting up. He smiled. “Aw, you poor thing.”
“Yeah, well, I can still take you.” Mackey responded.
“And I got real muscles, not those pathetic gym things you’re sporting,” Ian boasted.
They’d reverted to the braggadocio of fourteen-year-olds.
Damn, he’d missed these two.
“So, you getting dressed or we dragging you out of here in your skivvies?” Mackey whistled. “Nice. Those silk, man?”
“Screw you.” He laughed as he turned away and grabbed jeans from his bag, not bothered by their presence. It had been forever since he’d been in the company of other men who didn’t work for him or want his business, but he’d shared locker rooms with th
ese two. Skinny-dipped in the creek together more than once.
“Probably got some fancypants tweed jacket,” Ian stage-whispered to Mackey.
Jackson slid on a t-shirt, then pulled a sweater from his bag and cursed himself for forgetting how down to earth this place was.
“Oh, man, worse. A sweater.”
“Screw you. I left my jacket in the car last night.” He pulled on socks and stuck his feet in his running shoes.
“Whoo-ee—that model isn’t out yet, Wiz. Who’d you have to kill?” Mackey exclaimed.
The Nike crowd loved his games and gave him the latest shoe designs in exchange for advance notice on his games. “Only a couple of guys,” he joked. “Give me a minute.” He went across the hall and took care of morning ablutions.
“I need coffee,” he said as he came out.
“Got a thermos in the truck,” Ian said. “But we’re taking Mackey’s vehicle ’cause he wants to show off. Blue gets to come, though.”
“Hell, son, I like your dog way better than you,” Mackey responded. “Blue can ride shotgun.”
They pounded down the stairs, and it felt like a thousand mornings when they were kids. Jackson almost expected to hear his mother yell at them to stop and eat some breakfast.
But his mother was long gone.
And he was in the wrong house. “Where’s Ruby? She okay?”
“Yep. She and Scarlett are over cooking, as usual.” Ian jabbed a thumb toward the cafe. “Thought we’d spare you the interrogation this morning, though my woman does make one hell of a breakfast.”
“So you’re not taking a honeymoon either?”
Ian raked fingers though his hair. “I came within about an inch of losing that woman altogether yesterday. Hare-brained scheme Ruby and Maddie cooked up.”
“Who’s Maddie?”
“You happen to notice the totally built brunette standing by Scarlett at the wedding?”
“I think so. I was—there was a lot to take in.”
“Tell me about it.” Ian paused. “Maddie is married to your cousin Boone.”
“Boone was there?”
“Yep. And Mitch and his family and Lacey and Dev and their families. They all had to leave after the party last night, but Maddie says they’ll be back in touch. Take that threat seriously,” he snickered.
“Why is that a threat?”
“Maddie is…Maddie. Ian wouldn’t be married if not for her,” Mackey explained. The two exchanged grins that made Jackson feel even more the outsider.
He changed conversational tacks. “Who’s Lacey?”
“Oh, yeah. She didn’t come along until after you—”
A ponderous silence inserted itself.
Jackson yanked open his car door and pulled out his leather jacket.
“Nice. A Gucci, right?” Mackey asked. He turned to Ian. “Dude’s definitely rich. That one costs, like, three grand.”
Ian shook his head. “Definitely not a country boy anymore, huh?” But his eyes were friendly.
Jackson shrugged. He didn’t like the chasm that yawned between them, so he turned the heat on Mackey, who he knew had been a very successful stuntman after his days in the SEAL Teams. “I liked what you did in that last James Bond film.”
“Yeah? Thanks.”
They climbed into Mackey’s Range Rover. Ian whistled for his dog, who come bounding over and jumped in the back seat.
“This is Blue.”
“Australian shepherd?”
“Yeah. You got a dog?”
Jackson shook his head. “Wish I did. I have to travel too much.” He reached into the back and let Blue sniff his hand first, then he scratched the dog’s head. He hadn’t thought about how much he missed having a pet.
Mackey turned on the engine but didn’t put it in gear. “Enigma Games? Seriously?”
“How—? Ruby.”
“What the hell, dude? I have a bone to pick with that woman, never letting anyone know you were okay or that she was in touch with you.”
“I made it a condition of staying in touch. She didn’t like it, but she did it for my sake.”
“I’ve racked about ten million lives on Lone Assassin.”
“I like Doom Star better,” Ian said.
“You kicked ass, dude,” Mackey said. “Just like you always wanted to.”
Jackson shrugged into the looming silence, and he waited for the accusations.
A smack on the back of his head. “You are such an asshole for disappearing, Jackson.” Ian settled back in the seat behind him. “But I’m glad to see you. Asshole.” Ian’s fond tone was a benediction. A return to the friendship he’d missed like air.
For the first time since he’d driven into Sweetgrass, Jackson felt like he could breathe. “So where’s my coffee?”
“Coming up. Asshole.” Mackey snickered and hit the gas.
Ian’s dog licked his ear.
“You sure Ruby’s okay?” he asked Ian.
Ian laughed and handed him a travel mug. “And here I thought you were the smart one.”
Mackey glanced over. “You’ve been played, my man. Ruby’s fit as a fiddle.”
Jackson chuckled and watched the sunrise greet them.
Mackey’s phone rang as they drove. He snatched it up quick. “Hey, Ris.” He shook his head as he listened. “Yes, I know he’s your brother, but—” He glanced over at Jackson. “Yeah, I know, but—”
Behind Jackson, Ian chuckled. “The boy’s totally handed his jewels to your sister,” he said to Jackson.
Mackey’s head whipped around, and he glared but kept talking. “No, I’m not bringing him to the ranch. Your dad—”
Jackson’s amusement vanished.
“We’re headed for the bluff. You and Pen can come there. But bring food—we didn’t get breakfast yet.” Then he laughed out loud. “I know you’re not cooking for me, but Celia’s there, right?” He rolled his eyes. “Scarlett shouldn’t be cooking on what ought to be her honeymoon anyway.” He lifted eyebrows as he looked at Ian. “Yeah, he’s here, too. Okay. All right. See you, babe.” He grinned. “I love you, too.”
He disconnected.
“It’s too weird,” Jackson said. “You’re sleeping with my baby sister.”
“Hey, I married her. But yeah…” He waggled his eyebrows. “Sleeping with her, too. Oh, man…”
“Stop right there,” Jackson warned. “I hate to have to kick your ass first thing in the morning.”
“As if,” Mackey snorted. “You’re a thinker, not a fighter, Wiz. I would own you.”
“Bet me. I have a black belt now.”
“Guys…” Ian intervened. “Everybody put it back in your pants, all right? We’re here to welcome Jackson home.” His tone darkened. “Or kick his butt for not letting us know he was alive, at least. What the hell, Jackson?”
“Yeah.” Jackson looked out the windshield. “It’s so weird, being here. I never thought I’d see this place again.”
“All that happened a long time ago,” Mackey pointed out. “We’re not kids anymore.” He glared at Jackson. “You have any idea what Rissa went through after you and Pen left? You left her, man, a twelve-year-old, alone with your sonofabitch dad.”
“I know.” Jackson sighed. “I mean, I didn’t really think about it then—look, it wasn’t a whim, all right?” He glared right back. “My father threw me out with nothing—literally nothing. No money but the little bit in my wallet and the clothes on my back. On foot and scared half out of my mind, but—” He shook his head. “One of us wouldn’t have survived if I’d stayed.” He grimaced. “And he still hates me.”
“James is not an easy man to live with, that’s for sure. But after Rissa nearly died—and what the hell were you doing? Did you know that, and you didn’t come?”
Jackson shook his head vehemently. “Ruby didn’t tell me. She just said I should come home, but she’s been saying that for years. If I’d known, I could have sent a team of specialists or…”
“She need
ed you, man. But never mind, because I’m here now. I’m taking a whole lot better care of her than you ever did.”
He’d been living in his glorious isolation, able to pay people to do anything he needed, for some time now. He’d managed to lock away his emotions and assume that people back here had, too.
Truth to tell, he hadn’t thought about any of them much.
Because doing so, really letting himself experience what he felt for these people who were part of his earliest memories, part of the only real life he’d known, had hurt too much.
Would have killed him if he’d let it.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know how to explain it. Everyone hated me, and—”
“We never hated you.” Ian’s tone held a bitterness he’d never heard in his best friend’s voice. “But man…you have any idea how it felt to worry over you? To have no clue if you were dead or alive? What the hell were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t—” He lashed out. “I couldn’t handle it, all right? I was scared and sick and hungry and lost and…” He clamped off the outburst, the anger that wanted to pour out. “I didn’t know where to go or what to do. You had your dad,” he accused Ian, “You’ve never known what it was to be that lonely. That scared, realizing you had no place to go, no one who wanted you, no one who cared…”
“We cared.” Ian said quietly. “You had to know we cared. We backed you up in front of everyone.”
The anger in Ian’s tone was hard to hear, but the hurt was even worse.
“I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking too straight. I wound up in a homeless shelter after getting the shit beaten out of me in St. Louis. I didn’t have any money for a hospital or—”
He broke off. Exhaled. “Maybe it was wrong, but I had to let you all go,” Jackson said. “Or I’d never have made it. I’d have gone crazy because it hurt so bad. Leaving you, leaving Clary and Penny and Veronica—”
“Veronica?” Ian’s eyebrows shot nearly to his hairline.
“Veronica?” Mackey echoed. “What do you mean?”
Jackson cursed beneath his breath. “Forget that.” He pinned each gaze. “Please. It was nothing.” It was everything.
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