by Carly Morgan
Jackson forced himself not to notice his dad’s embarrassment as he pulled up a chair and sat. “What’s up?” He kept his voice light. It was difficult. He couldn’t stand seeing his dad like that.
His dad glanced at the nurse shooting something from a needle into one of the tubes, and dismissed her. Once she was gone, Jackson gave dad’s lawyer a look, hoping he’d be excused as well. His dad followed Jackson’s gaze and said, “Devin stays. I have something of legal importance to discuss with you and he must be here to witness it.”
Jackson’s heart sank. “What is it?” He knew he was set to inherit the ranch. He basically ran it now and had been for quite some time. Still, making everything legal meant his dad felt the end was getting close and Jackson didn’t want to think about what that would mean.
His dad cleared his throat and gave Jackson a sheepish grin. “We need to discuss your love life, Jack. Or, more precisely, the lack thereof.”
Jackson squirmed in his seat. It was no secret his dad wanted him married and settled. But how was that his dad’s concern? And if that was all he wanted to talk about, then he needed to get going. “I don’t have time for this,” Jackson said, with no desire to discuss his personal affairs. They’d had several arguments on the subject over the years. Jackson believed his dad shouldn’t question his choices. Last he’d checked, the two of them had been at a cordial impasse. But he knew his dad, in his own way, was looking out for him.
Dad grumbled. “Make time. Because I’m dying, boy, and that trumps your opinions on the matter of your unattached status. Since I’m about to meet my maker, I’ve talked to your momma and we’ve decided the time has come to issue you an ultimatum.”
Jackson tried to interrupt, but his dad held up his hand. “You are our oldest son. It’s your job, no, it’s more than that, it’s your right to take over the ranch after I’m gone.”
“Dad.” Jackson’s heart went from racing like a herd of wild horses to stopping altogether. He sputtered, shock the foremost feeling, followed by an excruciating pain. He’d already lost someone too young. He didn’t want to think about losing his dad, too. “Dad, I can’t—”
His father interrupted Jackson like he knew what was on his mind. “Do not misunderstand. Your momma and me know what you’ve been through. We know your life hasn’t been easy. But we also know you deserve happiness, you deserve to find love again.”
Jackson nodded, unable to express what he was feeling with words. It wasn’t that he was a bachelor because he didn’t want to marry. He did. Very much. Truth be told, there was an ache sitting heavily on his heart. He wondered more than once if there was something wrong with him. But that was just it. He didn’t want any woman. He’d already found love once and married. It’d been a blissful time in his life. But she’d died suddenly. He believed she’d taken his heart with her. Loving and losing the way he had wasn’t something one could easily come back from. If he married again, he wanted it to be because he loved her if not more than at least as much as he’d loved Diana, and he just didn’t see that happening. “Dad, I want that too.” He uncrossed his arms, allowing his father to see just how serious he was.
“She’s out there, son. You just need to look a little harder, set some goals for yourself, and go after it.” It surprised Jackson that his dad’s eyes seemed to fill with tears as he spoke. His dad was a tough man. He had to be to run a successful ranch. Before he could really verify it, his dad turned away, pulling on the tube sticking out of his hand. “Devin has it in writing,” he went on after a moment. “Your mom and I are giving you sixty days to find the woman you intend to marry. Another thirty days to tie the knot. We’ll pay for everything, if it’s too soon for your bride’s parents. Money isn’t an issue.” His dad cleared his throat, glancing at the water glass sitting on the bedside table.
Jackson stood and brought the straw to his dad’s lips, helping him sit up. When his dad had his fill, he lay back, and Jackson returned the glass to the table. Dad closed his eyes, and Jackson’s heart lurched. He didn’t believe it was possible to accomplish what his mom and dad wanted within such a small time frame, but if it meant his dad would hang on long enough to see him married again, then Jackson felt he had to give it a shot.
“Devin has the paperwork,” his dad said, his eyes finding Jackson’s and holding them steady.
“I do, Randy,” Devin said, bringing the paperwork forward.
Jackson took it, looking it over. Sure enough, his dad had placed his request in writing. At the bottom, he’d signed the document as had Jackson’s mom. He had a slight twinge at seeing his momma’s signature. How long had she and his dad been planning this? A year? Two years? Five years? It’d been that long since Diana died.
Jackson noticed an asterisk with a stipulation. At reading it, his mouth went dry. It said that if he didn’t do as requested, then his daddy intended to sell Bale Ranch to the Winegar Brothers and that the monies earned from the sale would be disbursed equally between him and his brothers. He’d heard of the Winegar’s, of course. They were a huge oil company. If they bought the Bale land, it would become nothing more than a place for digging up oil. Jackson ground his teeth together at the prospect. “You can’t be serious. You’d sell that land to those leeches?” He tried to keep his voice even, but it hadn’t worked. “What about Everett, Lance, and Blaze? Surely they don’t want you to sell anymore than I do?” Jackson knew for a fact they didn’t. He and his brothers loved the ranch and each had shared at one point or another that they saw themselves working it until they could pass it on to their own children. It wasn’t a small place. In fact it was the largest in the county at over four hundred acres.
“I’ve spoken with them all and while they weren’t happy about it, they agreed to the terms because they all want to see you happy again too.” He snapped his mouth shut, letting Jackson know that was the end of it.
Jackson crossed his arms, placing his features into a grim line. He’d been born and raised on this ranch. It was his life. The only time he’d left was when he’d gone to college to get his degree in business with a special emphasis in managing a ranch. And that’d been a long time ago. His degree had come in handy more than once over the years. Aside from the ranch he didn’t have many hobbies. He liked to plunk out chords on his old guitar, had an affinity with wood working, and even enjoyed making a meal or two in the kitchen, not to mention his home. He’d built it on this land. He couldn’t imagine his dad selling the ranch to the Winegar’s. That he’d even suggested it indicated the seriousness of his dad’s desires for his son.
The hard lines on his dad’s face softened. “I’m not trying to be stubborn. This isn’t about business, obviously. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this long, hard life it’s that family is the most important thing you’ll ever get to be a part of. Without the love of good people around you, life won’t mean much. I want you happy, Jackson, and I want you settled before I pass on. I believe, as does your momma that it’s possible, if you’d just make an effort.” His dad laced his fingers over his flat stomach, closing his eyes again. Whatever the nurse had put in his veins had finally kicked in.
There were dozens of questions that flooded Jackson’s mind, like where would they go if the ranch were sold? What would he and his brother’s do? Where would his momma go? But if he knew his father, and he believed he did, then he and his momma had already discussed the answers at length. So, Jackson asking his dad those questions right then wouldn’t change the fact that his dad wanted what he wanted, and the stubborn man usually got what he wanted.
Jackson sighed, determination rising up in him. If finding a wife was what it would take to keep the ranch in the family and help his dad even in the slightest way, then so be it. He would find a way to make it happen. “All right, dad. In sixty days, I’ll have found the woman I’m supposed to marry.” Jackson wouldn’t admit it, but saying the words out loud actually sent a jolt of anticipation through his heart. He didn’t know how it would happen. There wasn
’t a single woman in all of Peach Valley that he could imagine marrying. Still, he was resolute.
His father’s lips twitched upward in a scruffy smile. “That’s the spirit, son.” Then his eyes flashed open, catching hold of Jackson’s. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“Me too.” Jackson left his dad’s room feeling restless and headed downstairs. When he reached the bottom, one of the floor boards squeaked.
“Jackie, can you come in here, please?” His mother’s kind voice came from the kitchen.
Jackson cringed, not a fan of his momma’s nickname for him, not that it mattered. She’d been calling him Jackie since he could remember and she had no intention of stopping. But he’d already been heading in that direction. The warm and bubbly smell of peaches baking in sugar and butter had filled every inch of the main house. “What’s up, momma,” he asked, on entering. His mother, known as Milly to everyone in town stood five-foot-three on a good day, and was in her late sixties. Regardless of her petite size, Milly had a way of filling the room. Jackson knew it was her fierce personality, one that seemed larger than life, at least to him. He smiled when he saw her. Flour smudged one cheek and nose. A quick glance around the modern farmhouse kitchen confirmed she’d been making her famous mini peach pies. His mouth watered. “Don’t mind if I do,” he went to pick one up, but she batted his hand away.
Then she smiled. “Go ahead. Tell me how they taste.” She placed the oven mitts she’d been wearing on the white, granite countertop and watched him expectantly.
Jackson grinned. When it came to his momma’s pies, he didn’t need to be asked twice. He picked up the biggest one up and put the whole thing in his mouth. Immediately, the sweet sugar and the tart of the peaches followed by the buttery crust sang to his taste buds. Peach pie was his absolute favorite dessert. “Yum,” he said while he chewed, grabbing his mom into a hug.
Milly hugged him back. “So? Disgusting?”
He wrinkled his nose, chewing rapidly before swallowing. “So bad, momma. Maybe you should let me take all of these back to my place, just get them out of here so you don’t feel bad about making so many gross peach pies.” He couldn’t help but smile when she popped him on the butt with the dishtowel.
“You’re so bad,” she said, laughing mildly as she placed the pies she’d just pulled from the oven on a cooling rack.
“Yes, mam,” he said, kissing her on the cheek. He knew she intended to give some to him and his brothers anyway. His mother was tough, refused to take any nonsense, but was also the dearest, sweetest person Jackson knew. She’d even helped him and his brother decorate their homes according to their tastes.
He and Everett had built their own places about a mile from each other and a mile from the main house. Lance was still working on his, and Blaze hadn’t started his yet, but that was because he still had another year of college before he’d be home for good. Still, Blaze was home for the summer and probably out rounding up the calves with the rest of them, like Jackson should’ve been.
“Uh-huh,” she said, playfully tapping him on the stomach. “Wouldn’t want you to lose your girlish figure, Jackie.”
He gasped in pretend shock that his mom would even suggest such a thing. Raising his red tee, he ran a hand over his muscled abs. “You could do your laundry on these babies.” He smacked his stomach with a solid thump.
She laughed. “All right, hot stuff, I need you to climb down off your pedestal and take a dozen of these over to Patty Montgomery’s place.”
“Don’t you mean palace?” Jackson asked, pouring himself some milk.
“Ah, Jackie. I think you missed your calling in life.” She smirked, tasting one of the pies.
Jackson chugged down his milk, then smirked. “What, I’m serious. Trying to get in good with the Queen?”
“Well, smarty pants. Patty is a great friend. I’m proud of her and what she’s accomplished. From what I hear, the place is exquisite. So you’ll do this for me and send her my regards.”
Jackson nodded. “Of course. But why don’t you take the pies over and check the place out yourself?”
Milly shook her head. “You know I can’t do that.” Her smiling face turned serious, her lips forming a grim line.
Jackson did know. Since his dad’s prognosis, she’d refused to leave the ranch. It was her biggest fear that the one time she was gone, he would die and she wouldn’t be there to say good-bye. His heart ached for her. “All right, momma. I’ll take them over.” He kissed the top of her head.
“Good,” her smiled returned. “Besides, Patty has a new guest staying with her. Maybe you’ll get a chance to meet her. I hear she’s a looker and since me and your dad have given you the ultimatum, she might be the one.” She winked and Jackson groaned. Now it all made sense. His momma knew how to make things happen.
“I’m still in shock you agreed to the ultimatum and everything that me failing could mean to our family.”
“You won’t fail. I know it. And the ultimatum was my idea.” She tucked her chin to her chest and gave him a serious look.
He shook his head, feeling a cross between admiration and frustration. “Actually, that makes a whole lot more sense.” He wanted to razz her more about her part in the marriage clause, but knew now wasn’t the time.
She laughed, taking a wicker basket from a cupboard under the counter and placed a fresh dishtowel down inside. Once it was arranged according to her liking, she stacked a dozen mini pies inside, placing the towel over the top when she’d finished. “Best go right away, while the pies are still warm.”
Jackson took the basket and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back for some for my house later.”
She clucked her tongue. “I’m taking them over now.”
“Good.” On his way out the door, he grabbed his tan cowboy hat, placed it on his head, and headed to his truck. It was filthy. When it wasn’t covered in dirt, it was actually silver blue. Jackson put the basket in the passenger seat and drove down the long dirt road toward the freeway.
Jackson went several miles until he reached the end of the Bale ranch and found the entrance to Patty’s land. He turned off the highway and onto the newly paved road. He passed the enormous house and headed around to the back, where the cottages sat.
From experience, Jackson knew Patty’s was the first. Across the front hung the sign, Country Queen. He snorted, shaking his head, and put his truck in park. The next cottage over had a faded red Volkswagen bug parked in front of it. All four doors hung open with boxes stacked on the back and passenger seats interspersed with camera equipment and a guitar case.
He chuckled as he tried to imagine the little car surviving a single Wyoming winter. After one snowstorm where the wind blew eighty miles an hour, the car would end up buried in a snowdrift and would likely not be seen again until spring.
If the car belonged to Patty’s new guest, she was in for a whole bunch of surprises come the middle of October. Luckily she still had three months for someone to talk sense into her. Lifting the basket, he exited his truck and headed toward Patty’s. Before he got halfway, the door to the cottage with the Volkswagen opened. A woman with shoulder-length, flaxen blond hair came out. For a second, it was like the world slowed down. He watched as she tucked some hair behind one ear, her eyes down, focusing on the stairs. She had long, dark lashes. Her skin was a lovely bronze. She seemed a tad on the thin side, her navy capris hung a little too loose. On her feet were navy boat shoes and no socks and she wore a white tank top. Definitely not from around here, Jackson thought. He figured someplace near the ocean like California or Oregon. Once she reached the bottom step, she lifted her gaze. His heart raced at the sight of her. She had bright green eyes and a slight smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose.
When she noticed him, she stopped. “Hey,” she said, shading her eyes so that she could get a better look.
Jackson moved the basket from his right to left hand. “Hi. You must be the new visitor staying with Patty?”
> “Wow, news travels fast.” She smiled, a hint of surprise in her expression.
“Welcome to the life of a small town.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Jackson Bale. We’re neighbors. Your aunt and my mom are best friends. That could have something to do with it too.”
“Oh, that makes sense.” Her face relaxed and she stuck out her hand. “I’m Maya Vance.”
He took her hand, noticing how nicely it fit in his, and shook. “Good to meet you.”
Maya went around Jackson on her way to her car. But she froze mid step. “What’s in that basket?” She came back, inhaling deeply. “Whatever is in there, it smells like Heaven.”
Jackson chuckled. “Close.” He removed the towel, revealing his mother’s mini peach pies.
Maya glanced up, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. “Little pies. How cute.”
“I guess. You can have one. I promise you won’t be sorry.”
Maya reached inside. “Thank you.”
Jackson waited while she picked one up, interested to see whether she’d take a real bite or one of those dainty girly bites that drove him crazy.
To his surprise, she stuck half the pie in her mouth. While she chewed, she pointed. “This is the most delicious dessert I’ve ever tasted in my life. Who made them? You?”
Jackson chuckled, covering the remainder of the pies to keep them warm and free of possible bugs. “No, my momma.”
“You’re momma has skills.”
“Agreed.”
Maya polished hers off.
“Is your aunt around? My momma asked me to bring these to her.”
“Sure.” She finished the pie, licking her fingers. “She’s probably in her office. If not, we can find her at the Palace.” She wriggled her eyes as she spoke and Jackson laughed.
He followed her to the door. Maya knocked once and entered, the way her aunt had asked her too. “Aunt Patty,” she called, closing the door and glancing inside the office. “There’s someone here to see you.”
Patty was seated behind a large, oak desk, a pencil sticking out of her hair. When they walked in, she looked up. “Maya, have you finished unpacking already?”