“Thanks.” Taking the bottle, Mariah flashed a little smile, twisted off the cap and took a long swig.
Lifting her foot onto her opposite knee, she laid the ice bag on the table, then pulled off her satiny slipper and white slouch sock and massaged her little toe. Jackson stared, mesmerized by her tiny feet. Misty’s feet had been long and wide, with toes so limber she could pick up dimes off the tile floor with them. Jackson shook his head. He didn’t want to compare the two women. One was gone forever and the other would soon leave. He didn’t want to think about that, either.
“Shouldn’t you keep the ice on it?”
Mariah shook her head. “No, it’s feeling better already. Thanks for fixing the pack, though.”
He nodded, then took the ice bag and tossed it in the sink. “You and Kelly seemed to get along well tonight.”
“Your sister’s really sweet. I like her.” Mariah’s eyes gleamed like onyx stones polished to a glistening shine. “I was surprised by how you all look so much alike.”
Jackson thought a moment. Did they resemble each other? He’d never actually paid that much attention to his siblings’ features.
“You all have the same dark hair and similar blue eyes. And even though you’re younger than Evan, you’re taller and...” A faint stain colored Mariah’s cheeks.
And what...? Jackson leaned forward, willing her to finish her sentence.
Mariah pulled her sock on, followed by her dainty slipper. Picking up the water bottle, she stood, gently testing her injured foot. “Almost good as new.”
Obviously she wasn’t going to finish whatever it was she’d started to say. This was the first time all evening he’d had her to himself, and he wasn’t ready to let her go yet.
“Can you walk on it—or do you need me to carry you?” He didn’t even try to hold back the ornery grin that tugged at his lips.
Blushing, she shrugged. “N-no. See, it’s fine.” As if trying to prove it to herself, she hobbled away a few steps. “Just a little bruised.”
Jackson stood and crossed to her side. “If it’s really feeling all right, there’s something I’d like to show you.”
Mariah nodded, curiosity dancing in her eyes.
“We’ll have to step outside onto the porch. It’s cold out there. Is that okay?”
“Sure, but do you think it’s safe—after what happened?”
“I’ll turn out the lights so no one can see us.”
She glanced at the front door, contemplated a moment and then nodded. “Okay, but I need to get my shoes.”
Jackson handed her a pair of battered boots. “Try these. You can probably leave your slippers on.”
She slid her feet into the boots and looked up. “They’re a bit big, but not too bad. Whose are they?”
“Deuce’s.” Jackson grinned.
Her eyebrows shot up. “And you don’t think he’d mind me borrowing them?”
“No, I don’t.” Holding on to her elbow, he guided her to the coatrack as she hobbled along. After they donned their jackets, he slipped on his boots and flipped off the kitchen and mudroom lights. Then he helped her outside past the creaking screen door.
“Brrr. It gets cold here when the sun goes down.” She zipped her jacket and pulled the collar up around her neck.
“Pretty typical weather for early December, although we haven’t had a hard freeze yet.”
Guiding her over to the porch railing, he kept his hand on her elbow, just in case she should stumble.
“What’s making that noise? Not a cricket.”
“Tree frogs. There are only a few still around this late, but you should hear them in the summer.” Jackson tilted his chin upward. “What I wanted to show you is up there.”
Mariah lifted her eyes to gaze at the night sky. “Oh, wow! Look at all the stars,” Mariah said on a whispered breath. “I didn’t know there were so many.”
“Pretty amazing. Huh?”
“Yeah. There’s millions of them.” Tilting her face skyward, Mariah leaned against the porch railing, her breath steaming out in a puff.
Jackson stood behind her and looked up. The moon was nowhere to be seen, but the myriad stars gave off their own gentle illumination. Mariah was so close he could envelop her in a hug if he simply locked his arms around her. He shook his head, fighting his attraction. It had been a long time since a woman had intrigued him, but this one was off-limits.
“Uh...” He cleared his throat, trying to regain control of his emotions. Coming outside had been a bad idea. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, I guess.”
“I don’t know anything about you. Have you always lived in Dallas?”
“Yep, born and raised there.”
“Got any family? Siblings?”
Her breathing deepened, and she was quiet for a long moment. “Just a father and brother. My mom died when I was twelve.”
He sensed there was more she wasn’t saying but didn’t press her. “Sorry about your mom. My folks both died in a car wreck when I was twenty-three. I was playing pro ball then.” And had barely had time to grieve. Misty had comforted him when no one else had, and that had led to their brief courtship and marriage.
“I really miss my mother. I imagine you feel the same about your parents.”
“Yes, I do, especially when I think how much they would have loved Hailey.”
She turned his way. “My turn to ask questions.”
Anxiety tightened his shoulders. “Fair enough. Shoot.”
She huffed out a laugh. “Nice choice of words, considering. When did your ranch problems first start?”
He thought back. “It’s hard to say. I guess the first thing was about three weeks ago, when I got a call that some of my horses were on County Line Road. That was the first time the fence had been cut.”
“Did you contact the sheriff?”
“No. I thought it was just someone being ornery. It happens occasionally.”
“Had it happened before?”
“Um...no. But I’ve known others who had the same problem—but no one lately.”
Mariah leaned against the porch railing. “And you still can’t think of anyone who might have a vendetta?”
He’d thought long and hard and still came up with the same answer. “Nope.”
“You’re smart to send Hailey back to your sister’s.” She sucked in a breath then exhaled loudly. “I don’t want to alarm you, but I’m sure you’ve noticed the attacks are escalating. Someone wants to cause you—or maybe even me—harm. I just can’t figure out if the shooting is related to the other events.”
“Why would anyone want to harm you?” That made no sense to him.
“No clue, unless it’s someone at work who’s worried that my story will get me promoted to the position they want. But attacking me seems overly harsh, considering the two people in line for the job.”
No wonder she wanted this story so badly. It meant a possible promotion. How could he begrudge her that? She was on her own and had to do what she could to move up the ladder, just as he had when playing football.
“I want you to know that I’ll do all I can to help figure out this dilemma.”
Without stopping to think, he took her hand. “I appreciate that.” Warmth curled around him as he grasped her soft hand. He hadn’t relied on many people in his adult years, since so many proved false. In the football world, it had been dog-eat-dog. Do your best or someone would eagerly take your place. He’d learned to rely on himself—at least until he gave his heart to God. He longed to trust Mariah, but her story stood between them.
“Brrr. The temperature sure did drop.”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, hoping the warmth of his body would take the chill away. He was surprised when she eased agains
t him.
“Um... Is that the Big Dipper?”
He glanced up and nodded. “Yeah.”
“Cool. I don’t know that I’ve seen it before in real life. Books, of course.” She turned toward him, and her breath touched his cheek like a feather. “With all the lights in Dallas, we can only see a few stars.”
Mariah’s closeness froze his brain.
“Thank you for bringing me out—” She stopped talking, as if she suddenly realized she’d been leaning on him and now they stood face-to-face.
Was she bothered by his nearness? When she’d first arrived at the ranch, she’d tensed up every time he’d gotten close. He imagined most women would be apprehensive of a man they didn’t know. More so Mariah, especially after their initial meeting and given the fact she was staying at his house. But he didn’t want her fearing him.
What would she do if he kissed her? As if someone had physically slapped him, making him realize his train of thought, Jackson stepped back.
He had no right to consider such a thing. He didn’t need a woman in his life, especially when he hadn’t even been man enough to hold on to Misty.
The memory of his wife’s cutting words the night she’d left him lanced his soul. “The whole world may idolize you for being a great athlete, but remember when you’re lying in bed alone that you weren’t man enough to keep me. My heart belongs to another—the man who’ll raise your child instead of you.”
Popular, successful and wealthy, yet his own wife—the woman carrying his baby—hadn’t wanted him. Jackson sucked in a deep breath, forcing his self-pity away. He’d been down that road before, and it was filled with nothing but rugged potholes and heartbreaking dead ends.
God had come into his life and filled those fissures with His love and forgiveness. Jackson knew he’d made many mistakes as a husband, reveling in popularity and the adoration of his fans and his success more than in his wife’s affections. The truth was he’d been immature, arrogant and selfish, never really concerning himself with Misty’s needs—only his own.
He’d failed at marriage once and had paid a very high price. It had cost him his wife and the career he’d worked his whole life to achieve. He’d be stupid to make that mistake again. He had avoided women for the past six years, and at the first real test, here he was, swooning over the very reporter who could destroy the life he had built for Hailey and himself. Jackson moved back another step.
* * *
Mariah stared at Jackson. A humming security light near the barn, along with the starlight, barely illuminated his features. Features she was far too attracted to. Features now reflecting some inner struggle.
Had he been about to kiss her? She’d almost thrown her arms around him, but then he’d stepped away. If she stretched out her arms she could still touch him, but he suddenly seemed distant.
Was there something about her he didn’t like? He’d said in his prayer he was attracted to her. Spinning back around, she allowed her gaze to latch on to the Big Dipper again. She sighed, forcing her thoughts off the man beside her.
She thought of earlier tonight. What would it be like to have a close-knit family like his? Even though he and his brother had disagreed about her coming, they’d been man enough to put their argument aside tonight and, in spite of the tension lately, had even joked some at supper.
“What’s runnin’ through that pretty head of yours?”
He thought she was pretty? Grateful for the darkness, Mariah touched her cheeks. Her face felt warm, like a flannel nightgown fresh out of a clothes dryer. She searched for a response she could voice out loud—something other than thoughts of the near-kiss—or rather, near miss—before he’d sidetracked her.
“I was thinking how close your family is and feeling a bit jealous.”
“Yeah, they are a blessing.”
She needed to keep focused on her story and not the alluring man sharing the porch. “So, you’ve lived here ever since you quit football?”
He exhaled a heavy sigh but didn’t answer.
“I can see why you love it here. It’s so peaceful...like no place I’ve ever been to.”
The air smelled crisp and clear, with no hint of car fumes. Far off, a horse whinnied and another one answered. Somewhere to her right, an owl hooted in the dark night. She hugged her arms close to her body, missing the warmth of Texas.
“Yeah,” he finally said, as if it took a huge effort. “I moved here right after Hailey was born. I didn’t want her exposed to the relentless paparazzi I encountered in the football world, and I wanted her someplace she’d be safe.”
“You think a ranch is a safe place for a young girl? Safer than the city?” Mariah remembered with frightening intensity the rattlesnake in the barn and Hailey on the ladder, only a few yards away from it.
“Safe enough. She knows what’s allowed and what isn’t and rarely disobeys.”
The edge in his voice told her he didn’t like her questioning his parenting skills. He was a good father—she’d give him that. She’d enjoyed watching the tickle fight in the living room earlier between him and Hailey. Jackson had obviously allowed his young daughter to win the silly game as both had wrestled to tickle the other’s feet. A smile tilted her lips as she remembered watching Jackson laugh until tears swarmed in his blue eyes.
Remorse tamped down her lightheartedness. Had her father ever once played with her? Mariah searched the depths of her mind, unable to come up with a positive response. Her childhood had been the complete opposite of Hailey’s.
She swallowed back the jealousy that threatened to choke her. If Jackson’s God was so good, why had He allowed an innocent girl to lose her only loving parent at twelve years old—a girl on the verge of her emotional teenage years? Why did she have to care for an abusive alcoholic father and a cruel brother? Why had no man loved her enough to want to care for her? To protect her? The stars above blurred into swirling illuminations of light and darkness. If Jackson’s God cared so much, why didn’t He care for her?
She cleared her throat, fighting away the tightness. She struggled to regain her composure as courage and determination overcame doubt and self-pity.
She had a story to write. Her job depended on it. She didn’t want to think about the other four articles she’d turned in—the ones her picky editor said were garbage and not worth wasting ink and paper on. This was her last chance.
If she didn’t get this story—and make it a good one—she’d most likely be out of a job. And her deadline was looming closer. Jackson was a good guy—one she longed to get to know better, but she’d never been able to rely on a man. And if she didn’t tread carefully and got too wound up in his troubles, she might end up deciding not to do her story at all—and then where would she be?
Distance.
That was what she needed.
It was time she headed to bed. As she stepped back, her oversize boot caught on a board. She flailed her arms as she struggled to regain her balance.
Faster than she could blink, Jackson grabbed her. He held her upright while she maneuvered her foot back into the boot, and then with the heave of a breath that warmed her cheek, he pulled her against his chest.
She was momentarily stunned, and her arms hung to her side as he crushed her against his solid chest. As if they had a will of their own, her arms slipped around his waist.
All her life, she’d longed for someone to love her. She knew it was too soon for Jackson to actually care for her, but here in the darkness, she could pretend for one moment that she meant a little something to him.
“Mariah.” Jackson’s voice was a velvet murmur. His hand moved up her back and cupped her head. His pounding heart echoed her own as her head rested against his chest, nestled in his tender grip. She’d never known such gentleness in a man. A strange excitement upset her normally balanced control.
&n
bsp; “Mariah, I—” He loosened his grip and looked down at her. His hand slid through her hair until it rested against her cheek, warming it. His thumb brushed against her lip, sending swords of sensations warring with rapiers of guilt. Did Jackson actually feel something for her, or was he just lonely? Was she simply a convenient distraction to his humdrum existence?
Jackson tensed, and she sensed him battling his own struggles. Doubt squelched her growing feelings. She didn’t want Jackson to like her merely because he was lonely. Mariah desperately needed to be cherished for who she was herself. Nobody except her mother had ever loved her—not even God, who her mother claimed loved her more than anything.
Mariah closed her eyes, as she sensed Jackson’s face drawing closer. Her heart pulsated with a vengeance in her ears. A breath away, he paused—she knew because she could feel the gentle puffs of his coffee-scented breath on her face. What was he waiting for?
Cupping her cheeks, he brushed his thumb over her mouth again. Her trembling knees threatened to buckle.
Suddenly, an explosion shattered the quiet night with the roar of splintering wood and a brilliant light flashing near the road. Even from this distance, Mariah could hear the debris hitting the ground. Baron, locked in the barn for the night, barked frantically.
Mariah blinked. The bright glow hurt her eyes. Jackson jerked away, staring across the yard.
“What was that?” she cried.
“I don’t know. There aren’t any buildings that direction. Just the road.”
He raced across the porch, his boots slamming against the wood as he ran down the steps. “Get inside! Lock the door till I come back.”
“You’re not going down there alone.” Mariah released her white-knuckled grip on the porch rail and propelled her legs into motion. “I’m going with you.”
EIGHT
“I don’t have time to argue.” Jackson pinned her with a stern look that he’d probably perfected on Hailey. “Whoever did this might still be down there. I’ve got to try and catch ’em.”
Rancher Under Fire Page 10