He could not imagine how she kept doing this, day after day after day. For how long? The rest of her life? Only until the kids were grown? Or until she lost this place, as his investigator felt was imminent?
She wouldn’t last into the new year without some serious help.
Losing this place would kill her, he could already tell. It would be a defeat of proportions that might be the last straw, a loss that could break her.
As if she hadn’t been battered enough by David’s death.
And, yes, by his defection.
That’s what it had been, hadn’t it? He could have stayed and defied his father, could have faced down the whole town. If he’d been thrown off the ranch, there were other places open to him. He could have bunked with Ian. Could have let Aunt Ruby take him in.
Yes, what he’d been through had nearly broken him, and he took no small amount of pride knowing it hadn’t.
But would being lonely and hungry and homeless have been worse than sticking around? Facing all those who believed him criminally negligent at best, a murderer at worst?
The escape hatch had opened, he now realized, and he’d charged through it, if not eagerly, at least with some measure of relief to be away from this place that seemed the scene of all his nightmares.
Though it was also, he thought as he looked in the direction where the slender figure had disappeared, the land of his dreams when he’d been with her.
But she’d married his friend so quickly.
He remembered his suspicions about the hellhole of her life with her father, though. However little she’d been willing to admit what went on there, even a blind man could see that her father was a bully and Sarah Patton a ghost, a mother who could never have stood up to him.
Veronica’s children would never know that terror or even its faintest shadow. She would fight for them—was fighting for them—with every breath, every cell, every ounce of will.
David would have taken good care of her, he knew, if he had lived.
Never mind how Jackson envied him. How much he couldn’t bear the thought that three children meant they’d known the bliss of sexual union he and she had shared so briefly.
She’d wept when they’d made love that first time. It had been so fine, so sweet, so perfect, even if they’d been young and awkward. He’d wanted to weep with her. When their bodies joined, when their minds connected even in simple conversation, they’d clicked in a way he’d never known since.
But apparently she had.
He wanted to hate David for that, had for years. But for the first time, Jackson stepped outside a childish envy and knew he should be grateful.
He was the one who’d run away.
David had stayed. But for a random accident, he’d be with her still, guarding her, loving her, protecting her as Jackson had always thought he’d be the one to do.
In the face of that failure, what was there to discuss about the past that would make him look like anything but the total bastard he’d been? There was no excuse for what he’d done, the grown man saw now with a clarity that was painful.
He’d had a hard road, true, but so had she. He’d left her with an evil father, a spineless mother, a hard and bitter brother. Jackson had made his way into that world the two of them had intended to explore together.
And but for one good man, she would have been trapped forever in the hell of her childhood.
With the sting of failure and guilt sharp on his tongue, Jackson cleared away their lunch, slapped his work gloves against his thigh and returned to the fence he’d been repairing.
Tonight he would do right by her. He’d leave the woman he’d wronged to enjoy the evening with her children, with no interloper around who could only remind her of all she’d once had.
Leaving him to feel the loss of all the beauty and joy he’d let slip through his hands.
“Prince, did you know our daddy, really?” Beth studied him from her spot on one side, nestling against him as Abby had done on his other while he read them a story.
“I sure did. He was one of my best friends.”
Her eyelids fluttered down. “Sometimes I can’t remember how he sounded.” Shame rode her features hard.
Jackson took a deep breath and wondered how in the hell anyone could answer this. He pulled her closer, then realized that he understood better than many would. “I lost my mom, though I was older than you. It’s hard. You can remember what they look like from pictures, but we don’t always have recordings of voices. We just can’t quite hear them in our heads.”
“We do have Daddy’s voice,” Abby remembered. “On the video, remember? The one of him and Mommy?”
Beth sat up quickly. “Can we go watch it?”
Abby clapped her hands. “Mommy?”
He glanced over at Veronica, as well, and their gazes met.
She quickly averted hers. “It’s a school night, honey. Maybe this weekend?”
Jackson’s relief was wrong, he knew, but he couldn’t look forward to watching his best friend with the woman he’d loved.
Girl he’d loved, he corrected. He was only now beginning to know the woman.
But Beth was so eager that he felt like the worst kind of jerk for being relieved to put it off. Who’s the adult here?
He resumed the story, one disappointed little girl on each side.
After he left Veronica with them so she could put the final touches on the bedtime ritual, singing each a song of their own, he ambled down the hallway and stopped in Ben’s doorway.
The boy looked up. “Calculus sucks.”
Jackson grinned. “All of it? Or only one section?”
“Derivatives.” Ben sighed. “Since you’re a math genius, you’re gonna tell me it’s easy, right?”
Jackson shoved away from the doorjamb. “Not easy, no. I’m probably so rusty it’ll look like hieroglyphics, but I can take a look. At worst you can feel superior.”
“Yeah, right. Because I’ve started a mega-company with the hottest game on the planet nearly ready to launch.”
“You follow the industry gossip, do you?”
Ben’s look dripped pity. “We do have internet…even if it’s too slow to play half the games I want.”
“You aren’t kidding. I can’t even get a decent cell signal without using my sat phone.”
“You have a sat phone?”
“With wifi.”
Ben’s eyes went wide. “Want to crank it up right now?”
“Uh, yeah. And let your mother ground both of us until we’re old.” He paused. “But maybe this weekend…”
“Score!” Ben did a fist-pump. “You’ll still be here this weekend?”
Jackson hesitated. “Actually, I shouldn’t have said that. I have some issues I’m trying to deal with long-distance. Results are hit or miss.”
“What kind of issues?”
“Nothing interesting.”
Ben’s expression was pure disappointment. “A kid couldn’t understand, right?”
“I didn’t say that. It’s just…” Jackson exhaled. “There are a lot of confidentiality issues in my business. Things I can’t share with anyone.”
“Especially not some kid.”
Jackson studied him. “Honestly? I probably would do better to trust you than half the adults I know.” He could actually see Ben’s shoulders straighten, his chest puff out.
“It’s okay. I get it.”
Jackson debated. From what he could tell, this boy was a rare breed, a teenager who handled a lot of responsibility, one who had matured far beyond his peers—partly due to circumstances, yes, but also…he was a lot like his dad. David had been solid even as a boy. David had stood beside Jackson when the entire town blamed him for the death of the sister David loved.
“Tell you what. Your mom just emphasized that it’s a school night. Let’s deal with this homework first, and then I’ll tell you what I can. Some of my situation I still don’t have a handle on. Deal?”
Ben’s face w
as pure sunshine. “Deal.”
“Okay, so show me the problem you’re working on.” He bent to get a better look. “By the way, pretty impressive that you’re already in calculus at, what, fifteen?”
“Sixteen now,” Ben corrected.
“Still impressive.”
Ben’s face was pure sunshine as he turned to his work.
Veronica passed Ben’s room and saw her son beaming up at Jackson as if he held the key to the secrets of the universe. He’d once looked at David that way, even if David couldn’t have helped him with calculus homework.
Jackson and Ben watched each other, and in that second, their two profiles suddenly bore a similarity she hadn’t seen before.
Oh, no. She placed an uneasy hand on her midriff, another over her mouth.
Oh, dear sweet heaven. She’d thought she was safe. How had she never noticed this increasingly-strong resemblance between them? Ben’s eyes were different, and usually he reminded her not at all of Jackson, but this, along with his height and his steadily darkening hair—
She gripped the doorjamb.
Both of them turned.
“Hey, Mom. Jackson’s helping me with calculus.” He made a face. “He actually likes derivatives. What a geek.” But he was grinning.
Jackson began to sober, studying her. “You okay?”
“Oh, yes,” she said hastily. “Perfectly fine.” She evaded his gaze and focused on her son.
Their son.
Don’t think about that. Don’t think about that.
“How much more do you have to do?”
“This is the last one. Then I need to kick Jackson’s tail at Doom Star again.”
She composed her features.
But Jackson was still staring.
“Maybe not tonight,” she said.
“Why not?”
She risked a glance at Jackson, and disappointment slid over his features.
Abruptly he straightened. “I have to get back to town, Ben. I forgot I promised my sister Penny I’d drop by.” He summoned a grin that didn’t make it to his eyes. “Last I heard, Ian had drafted her to be Scarlett’s minion in the kitchen while she’s test-driving new recipes for the opening.”
Ben’s disappointment was evident. “I understand.”
Jackson tore his gaze from hers. “But that’s only a reprieve for tonight. Your reckoning is coming, my man.”
“As if.” Ben snickered.
Jackson rubbed his palms together. “Prepare yourself, young Jedi. The Master will school you at our next encounter.”
“I’m shaking.”
Fondness filled Jackson’s look at Ben. “You got it now, you think?”
“I got it. Derivatives, you are mine.”
Jackson clapped his shoulder. “Good man.”
Ben gave an evil chuckle. “Go get some rest, Old Master. Young Jedi will deliver your punishment soon.”
Jackson followed her out.
Ben hadn’t been playful like this since his father died.
His real father, the one who’d formed who he was.
“You okay?” Jackson inquired as they descended the staircase.
“Fine. Just…ready to get off my feet.”
“I give a good foot rub.”
“No.” Her rejection was instantaneous. She struggled to soften it as his gaze sharpened. “I mean, Penny’s waiting on you. You need to go.” To bolster her case that it wasn’t her own reaction she was concerned with, she went on. “I’m worried about her.”
“I am, too. Once I would have known what was troubling her without words, but now…” His shoulders sagged as he stared off into the distance. “Still, I have to try. She’s got to talk to someone at some point.”
He looked weary and worn, when usually he radiated power and ease and purpose, a man in command of his world.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping, but I couldn’t help hearing a little of what you said to Ben. Is there trouble at your company?” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. You mentioned confidentiality.”
His gaze bored into hers. “I would trust you with anything I have, Vee.”
His use of his former nickname for her made her breath catch. Sent an arrow of longing and grief into her heart.
She bit her bottom lip.
He let one long, lean finger trace it.
Fire leaped through her body, and she gasped.
The startling blue eyes she’d adored went dark then, and fire lit within.
She couldn’t look away.
But her every nerve ending was screaming in alarm.
No, no, no, no, no—do not go there!
She backed away. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”
He didn’t remove his gaze.
At last he spoke. “I wonder…” He frowned. “I’m not worried about you calling the media, it’s just…I’m not sure what’s going on.” His gaze returned to hers. “There’s been a leak, a damaging one, on the new game.”
“Who did it?”
“That’s the problem. I don’t know. And I can’t tell from here.”
“Of course you can’t stay, then. That’s too important.”
“This is important, too, you and your kids.”
“We’re not your concern, Jackson. Not that I haven’t really appreciated your help, because it’s been a godsend.” She forced herself to brighten. “But it’s temporary. You’ll go back, and life will go on.”
“Will it?”
She couldn’t look at him. His eyes pulled her into him, rendering her helpless to block out his impact.
But she had to find some way to do so. His life was elsewhere. Hers was here. So she summoned every small bit of acting skill she possessed before she looked up at him. “You know it will.” She exhaled. “But maybe…if you could…if you wouldn’t mind staying in touch with the kids, at least a little. They seem to have become attached.”
“Only the kids?”
Her gaze flew to his, the hot blue lodestar that had been all she’d known of magic in the world. “Well, sure. If you ever have time to chat or write an email or—” she shrugged.
Before she could react, he bent and placed his lips on hers.
They were unfamiliar and new—
And they were starlight and memories and…
Forever.
Perfect.
Gently he brushed his mouth over hers, not even seeking a parting of her lips, but the feel of him, the remembered sensations—
She stepped back. Pressed her lips together. “That’s not a good idea.”
One black eyebrow arched. He licked his lips, tasting her, and the bottom dropped out of her stomach. Her head went light.
“Isn’t it? I wonder.” Then he turned to go. “I’ll see you in the morning, Vee.”
“Veronica,” she corrected.
He glanced over his shoulder as he left and winked.
“Whatever you say.”
Then he was gone.
She sank to the sofa on unsteady legs.
And stared into the darkness for a very long time.
He heard the laughter when he opened the courthouse door, that funny half-snort Penny couldn’t stem when she was really amused.
She’d hated it, growing up. So of course he’d teased her unmercifully.
The woman who’d only skated the edges of involvement in Sweetgrass since the wedding, though, had shown no evidence of humor. Now, however, she and someone else back in the kitchen—Scarlett, he guessed—were caught in the sort of hysterical giggling that was hard to stop.
He started toward them, but Ian’s voice halted him. “Hey, Wiz. You still around? Haven’t seen much of you.” The knowing grin was one he couldn’t refute. “How are things out there?”
Jackson sighed. “I had to push my way in and I’ve gotten a lot done, but man…there’s a lot left.”
“Those city boy gym muscles actually know how to work?”
“Screw you.” They exchanged grins. There was no one in his current li
fe with whom he knew anything even vaguely reminiscent of the easy camaraderie he’d taken for granted with this man.
“Hey, Scarlett told me about Bali. No way we can accept that, but—”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because it’s not right.”
“Oh? You’re not the one who spent your whole life with your nose stuck in a travel book every second you could grab?”
“That’s not it.” Ian’s gaze slid away.
“Then what is?” Jackson exhaled. “Because I left? Because I stayed gone, is that it?”
“No, man.” Ian straightened. Strode to him and shoved him. “Actually, yeah, now that I think of it. What the hell, Jackson? You didn’t think being best friends since we were babies entitled me to know you were still alive?”
“You could have found me if you’d tried.”
“Screw you twice.” Ian shoved him again. “Why should I? I side with you against the whole town, I do everything I can to pull you out of the hole you were already in because of your mom.” Another push. “I bring you to my house so your sonofabitch dad will leave you alone, and you don’t even think to drop me a postcard? You decide, what, that almost eighteen years means nothing?” The most even-tempered man Jackson had ever met was shouting now.
And he had no defense.
So he went on offense and shoved back. “Up yours, Mr. Self-righteous. Not all of us can do no wrong in the eyes of everyone we know. Not all of us have family who’d go to the wall for us—”
“Screw you!” Ian shouted, and slammed his fist into Jackson’s jaw.
He fell backward, as much from the shock as the blow, though his buddy packed one hell of a wallop.
Then his worries over Veronica, his concerns about the kids, this yearning he felt growing and could not tolerate collided with concerns over his company and the knowledge that Ian was right—
He exploded back, launching himself onto Ian and taking them both to the floor.
“What are you two doing?” Scarlett shouted.
Vaguely he heard footsteps pounding as he and Ian struggled together, each trying to get in a good lick.
Ian popped him a sneaky left hook that snapped his head back.
He punched Ian in the ribs.
A scream split the air.
Ian broke away. “Scarlett? Honey, are you okay?”
Texas Rebel: The Gallaghers of Sweetgrass Springs Book 4 (Texas Heroes: The Gallaghers of Sweetgrass Springs) Page 12