Fear knotted in her stomach, the way it had then, half a lifetime ago.
“Yes, she can stay with me for a little while.”
Jackson watched her, his eyes narrowing. “You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“I’ll pay you.” His mouth shifted into a smile, revealing a dimple in his chin.
“Pay me?”
“For letting her stay with you. I can write you a check or pay you cash.”
Madeline glanced at her watch. “I really have to go, and I don’t want your money.”
“There will be the expense of feeding her. She probably needs clothes. I need to pay you something.”
Jade stood, the quick movement catching Madeline’s attention, and from the jerk of his head in that direction, Jackson’s also. The girl held her plate, trembling a little.
“Stop, okay? I’m a kid, not something you trade off or try to get rid of. I thought it would be different…” Jade bit down on her bottom lip and looked from Madeline to Jackson. “You were supposed to be different.”
His smile dissolved. Madeline watched as he approached the girl who might possibly be his daughter. He sat down at the table and pointed for her to sit back down. He was used to girls, used to kids. He had been raised in a house with eleven other children. Now he had nieces and nephews.
“Different than what?” he asked.
“Different, that’s all.”
“From?”
“From my mom. I thought it would be—” she looked away “—better here.”
Jackson whistled. “So far we haven’t made much of an impression, huh?”
Madeline wanted to correct him, to tell him he hadn’t made a good impression. The girl claimed to be his. Madeline was just the unsuspecting stranger who had ended up with Jade on her doorstep. And she’d gotten tangled up in this.
“No, you haven’t made a great impression.” Jade rubbed her eyes hard. Madeline pulled tissues out of a box on the counter and handed them to her. Jade took them with a watery smile and rubbed her nose and then her eyes.
“Okay, let’s start over. Jade, I’m Jackson Cooper and I don’t know squat about raising teenage girls. Today one landed on my front porch and I’m trying like crazy to figure out what to do and to keep that from being a problem for both of us.” He glanced at Madeline. “And this isn’t her problem at all.”
“I don’t like being called a problem,” the girl cried again.
“Right, okay, you’re not a problem. But you are a situation that I need to figure out. And I need a little time to do that.”
“Okay.”
“So for now, you’ll go with Ms. Patton because that’s the best thing for us to do. And I’ll work at figuring something out.”
“She can’t go with me yet,” Madeline interrupted. “I have to be at work. Now!”
“Okay, so we’ll work this out. She stays with me for now while you go to work and later we figure something out.”
“Jade, I’ll see you later.” Madeline leaned in to hug the girl.
Jackson stood, probably to walk her to the door. She didn’t need that. She didn’t need any of this.
“I’ll see myself out.”
Jackson walked with her anyway. “You’ll be back?”
“Yes, Jackson, I’ll be back.”
He must have read her mind.
“Thank you.” He grinned as he opened the front door for her. “Sorry if I haven’t been the best host. It isn’t every day that I get a wake-up call like this one.”
She didn’t want to like Jackson Cooper. She didn’t want to let her guard down. But he had a way of easing into a person’s life, taking them by surprise.
“I think we’ve both been taken by surprise today.”
Maybe she had been the most surprised. She had formed opinions about Jackson. Now she had to rethink those opinions.
Chapter Three
Jackson couldn’t think of another reason to keep Madeline from leaving. He could think of several reasons why he wanted her to stay. She stood on his porch, brown hair, brown eyes, brown sweater and skirt. He couldn’t quite figure her out, and he felt pretty sure that’s what she planned when she camouflaged herself in brown. What she probably hadn’t expected with her disguise was the fact that she intrigued him.
“I have to go.” She stepped away from him, tripping over that crazy dog of his.
Jackson reached for her arm and steadied her. “Sorry about the dog. He can get in the way.”
“Right, okay, I’ll see you later.”
“Madeline, thank you. I’m sure getting mixed up in this mess wasn’t on your to-do list when you woke up this morning.”
“No, it wasn’t. And I’m still not sure how I feel about this. I think you should call family services.”
“It’s the right thing to do?” He smiled because he guessed she always went by the rules. “But then she’s in the system and my hands are tied. I’d like to figure this out and then I’ll make a phone call.”
“She could be a runaway.”
“I’m going to check into that. Don’t worry, I’m not planning on harboring a juvenile.”
Madeline’s brows shot up. “I think you plan on letting me harbor said juvenile.”
He grinned and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
“If you go to jail, I’ll bail you out.”
“Thank you, that’s very kind.” She glanced at her watch. “I have to go. Please think about calling your parents.”
The urge to lean down and kiss her cheek didn’t come as a surprise. But today he had to think like Jackson the dad, not Jackson the guy who loved beautiful women. He smiled and promised her he’d think about calling his parents. But he’d already come to the conclusion that the last thing he needed was the entire Cooper clan descending on his house today.
Madeline hurried down the steps and across the lawn to her little sedan. He couldn’t help but smile as she slammed the door, opened it and slammed it again before driving away. He remembered her doing that when he’d helped her pick up her groceries last week.
When he walked back inside he found Jade on the sofa, a throw blanket pulled over her body. She blinked, and offered a little smile.
“I guess you were up all night?” He eased down onto the desk chair he’d left in the middle of the room.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
Jackson rolled the chair closer to her. “I’m going to get some work done. You take a nap and later we’ll figure out what to do next.”
“What’s next? I’m your kid and my mom is dead. What are you going to do, dump me on the side of the road somewhere?”
“No, I’m not going to dump you. I do want to check all of the facts before we make any big plans.”
“Fine.” She looked a little pale and her eyes were huge. “Do I have grandparents or something?”
“Yeah, you have grandparents.”
She closed her eyes, a little-girl smile on her face. After a few minutes he scooted in the other direction, back to the desk and his laptop. He flipped the top up and hit the power button, all the while watching a kid who really thought he could be her dad.
He sighed and shook his head. First he checked his email because a certain bull he’d been after for a year had been put up for sale and he’d made an offer. Still nothing on that front.
So where did he begin searching for Jade Baker’s story? And her mother’s? Death records, obituaries and telephone directories. Every search came up empty. He had another connection, a friend who had gone into law enforcement. He typed a short email asking for information on runaways—one specific runaway, actually.
He sat back, trying to think of other avenues for finding Gloria Baker. But it wasn’t her name he typed in the search engine of the internet. He found himself doing a search for Madeline Patton.
She’d been in the area for a year. She’d moved to a town where she didn’t have family. She’d bought a house connected to his land. The house h
ad once belonged to his great-grandparents. It had been their original homestead, before oil and ranching paid off for the Coopers.
His grandmother had taken a liking to Madeline and sold that little house and two acres to the schoolteacher for almost nothing. Maybe his grandmother knew more about her than the rest of them.
Or maybe he was the only Cooper left out of the loop when it came to Madeline. That kind of bugged him.
His search of Madeline Patton turned up article after article, all from Montana newspapers. He leaned back in his chair and his finger hovered above the mouse. Her story, if she had one, should be private. But the brief sentence under the heading wouldn’t let him back away. He clicked the link and started reading.
For a long time he sat there. He read newspaper articles about a child named Madeline Patton. He searched for more articles. As he read he went from pain to rage. He had never wanted to hurt someone as badly as he did at that moment, thinking about that little girl.
Man, it made him want to drive to the school and hug her tight. It made him want to keep her safe. No one should ever be used the way Madeline had been used. Exploited. Hurt.
He closed down his computer because he knew these were her stories, her secrets. She had a right to her privacy. She didn’t trust him. She definitely wouldn’t trust him with these secrets.
He stood, easing through the motion and then holding on to the desk as he took a deep breath. Jade remained curled in a ball on his sofa, sound asleep. He leaned over her, shaking her shoulders lightly. Eyes opened with a flutter and she pulled back.
“I have to get some work done in the barn. Are you going to be okay here by yourself?” He figured being by herself might be something she was used to. Just guessing.
“Yeah, I’m still tired.”
“Sleep on. If you get hungry there’s lunch meat in the fridge and a container of chili my mom brought over yesterday.”
“Thanks.” Her eyes closed.
Jackson slipped on his boots and pulled on a jacket. When he stepped outside he took a deep breath of cold, December air. It felt good to get out of the house. He never would have made it in the nine-to-five corporate world. Walls were not his cup of tea. He liked open spaces, horses in the field and bulls moving around their pens.
Blake, his older and less charming brother, could have the corporate gig. If someone had to count the money, it might as well be Blake.
Jackson whistled for the dog. He came running from the field, brown splotches on his back where he’d been rolling in the grass. When the dog got close enough, Jackson groaned.
“Bud, you stink. Get out of here.”
Bud wagged his tail as if being stinky sounded like a compliment.
He shrugged down into his jacket and trudged down the driveway toward the barn. Horses whinnied and trotted along the fence line. Cattle started moving from across the field.
He flipped on lights in the barn and a few whinnies greeted him. He stopped in front of the stall of the little mare he’d bought last week. She stuck her velvety black nose over the door of the stall and he rubbed her face. She’d make some pretty foals. Her daddy had sired quite a few champion cutting horses. Her brother was a champion barrel horse. If people were concerned about pedigrees, hers topped the charts.
A minute later he walked on down the aisle to the feed room. As he unhooked the door he heard a truck easing down the driveway, the diesel engine humming, tires crunching on gravel. He stepped back to the center of the aisle and shook his head. Travis, late as usual.
As much as he loved his kid brother, Jackson missed Reese. They were closer in age and understood each other a little better. But Reese was deployed to Afghanistan and wouldn’t be home for a year.
It was going to be a long year. He’d be doing a lot of praying during that time. He and God would be on pretty good terms by the time Reese came home.
Travis whistled a country song as he walked through the wide doors of the stable. He was tall and lanky, his light brown hair curled like it hadn’t seen a brush in days. Nothing slowed Travis down. And nothing ever seemed to get him down.
“I didn’t expect to see you up and around today.” Travis pulled on leather work gloves.
“Is that why you waited until noon to feed?” Jackson blew out a breath, letting go of his irritation.
“Had a cow down and had to pull a calf. I knew everyone here had plenty of hay until I could get here. And I also know you well enough to know you can’t stand staying down.”
“Yeah, I feel better.”
“Good, but let’s not go crazy, right?” Crazy, as in give himself a chance to heal.
“Right.” Jackson scooped grain into a bucket and headed for the first stall. They were only five horses in the stable; the rest were in the pasture. There were two stallions, a gelding he was training for a guy in Oklahoma City, a mare that had been brought over for an introduction to his stallion, Dandy, and the little black mare.
“You left your front door open.” Travis stopped to pet the black mare. “You really think this mare is going to throw some nice foals? She’s small.”
“She’s fast.”
He didn’t remember leaving the door open and wondered if Jade had woken up. Fortunately Travis let it go. He grabbed a bale of hay and tossed it in a wheelbarrow without asking more questions. He pushed the wheelbarrow down the aisle, whistling again, and Jackson knew he wasn’t getting off the hook that easily. Travis didn’t let go of anything. But for now he seemed to be content with a nonanswer. He shoved two flakes of hay into the feeders on the stalls. When he got to the stallion, Dandy, he pulled off three flakes.
“Don’t overfeed him.” Jackson warned.
Travis grinned. “He’s a big guy doing a lot of work. He requires extra fuel.”
“Not every feeding.”
“I’m not five.” Travis pushed the wheelbarrow back to the hay stacked in the open area between stalls. He piled on two bales for the horses outside.
“I know you’re not.” But it was hard to turn off “big brother” mode. He’d been getting Travis out of scrapes for over twenty years.
“The charity bull ride for Samaritan House is next week. Do you think you’ll be able to go?” Travis was a bull fighter, the guy responsible for distracting bulls as the bull rider made a clean getaway. Or distracting bulls when the getaway wasn’t clean. Sometimes the bull fighter took a direct hit to keep the rider safe. That made him a hero. Travis had taken more than his share of hits.
Jackson slapped his little brother on the back. “I’m going to take a rain check.”
Travis grinned. “Really? What’s going on with you?”
The Russian accent was still noticeable, even after all his years in America, and being raised as a Cooper.
“Nothing, just not sure if I’ll be able to make it. If you need me, though…”
“No, we should be fine.”
They walked outside. The sun was bright and the sky a clear blue, not a cloud in sight. It hadn’t warmed up much and didn’t seem to be heading in that direction.
The corral held a few of their best bulls. Jackson walked up to the metal pipe enclosure and raised a foot to rest it on the lowest pipe of the six-foot-tall pen. He hadn’t ridden bulls professionally for several years. He trained them, sometimes hauled them and then sold them. The Cooper bull breeding program was his baby. Gage, the brother between Reese and Travis, was the bull rider these days.
Raising bucking bulls had become a big business, bigger than they’d ever thought it would be.
Travis pointed to a rangy, Holstein mix bull. “Bottle Rocket is scheduled for the championship round in Oklahoma City?”
“He is.” Not one of them had guessed that little bull calf they had bottle-fed would be a champion bucking bull. But there he was, pawing at the ground and looking for all the world like a top athlete and not the sickly calf they’d saved six years earlier.
A car rumbled up the drive. Jackson didn’t turn as quickly as he would
have a week ago. Travis beat him to the punch. And that meant a lot of explaining for Jackson to do.
“Isn’t that Madeline Patton?” Travis crossed his arms over one of the poles of the fence but turned to watch as Madeline got out of the car and then the front door of the house opened.
What in the world was she doing here so early?
“Yeah, I guess it is.” Jackson turned his back to the woman and kid heading their way. He needed to think fast and distract Travis.
But of course this would be the day that Travis was focused and sharp. He pulled dark-framed glasses out of his pocket and shoved them onto his handsome face. Somehow Travis always looked studious in those glasses. And serious.
Jackson kept his own attention focused on Bottle Rocket.
“So, Madeline Patton and a kid that looks like you. Something you want to tell me?” Travis stared straight ahead, his voice low.
Jackson wanted to clobber his younger brother. Travis was like the farm dog that kept chewing up shoes, but you kept it anyway. He didn’t mean to cause trouble, he just naturally found it.
“No, I don’t really have much to tell you.”
“Well, there are rumors spreading through town about a kid that looks like you showing up at the Mad Cow asking for directions to Jackson Cooper’s house.”
Travis let out a sigh and shook his head. He stepped back from the fence and turned to face the woman and teenager heading their way.
“People in this town gossip more than they pray.” Jackson walked away from his younger brother.
“Shoot, Jackson, what do you think a prayer chain is?”
Jackson didn’t wait for Travis, but Travis caught up with him anyway, “Travis, I’d hope that a prayer chain is for prayer.”
“Is she yours?”
Jackson glanced at Travis. “What do you think?”
“What are you going to do about it?”
Jackson shrugged. At this point he didn’t have a clue. But it would help if he could find her mother. Since he’d discovered there wasn’t a death certificate for Gloria Baker, he assumed she was still alive.
The Cowboy's Holiday Blessing Page 3