by Cindy Kirk
“My father insisted we do a lot of preplanning. He’s worried about my job.” At least he had been, Gabi thought, before his recent change of heart. “Even though my leave was approved, he’s convinced they’re going to put someone else in my position and give me the boot.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?”
Startled, she blinked.
“You could apply for the position Steve mentioned.” Jude took her hand, linked her fingers with his. “That way you could be around to personally supervise your father’s recovery.”
“My life is in Miami,” she murmured, her mouth suddenly dry as sand.
“It was in Miami.” Jude brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss into the palm. “What I’m trying to say is—”
His head jerked up as the sound of loud voices coming from the foyer drew his attention.
“What do you mean you’re moving to Red Rock?” Anger filled Deke’s voice. “I was counting on you this spring. You know this is our busiest season.”
“Calving. Branding. Putting up hay. Grunt work,” Chris declared in a derisive tone. “I have a brain. I’d like to use it for a change. Working for the Fortunes will give me that opportunity.”
“You think you’re too good to work with your hands? Is that it?”
Gabi wasn’t sure if everyone heard the faint undercurrent of hurt in Deke’s voice, but she caught it. Perhaps it was because her headstrong father was a lot like Deke Jones. She’d witnessed the anger and the hurt feelings that resulted when he and her brothers had butted heads.
“Let’s just say I’m too smart to continue wasting my life on some two-bit ranch.” Chris spoke in that smart-alecky tone guaranteed to light a father’s fuse.
The clack of boots on hardwood echoed as Deke followed Chris onto the porch. Now that they were outside, Gabi had a perfect view of the two men through the window.
Fortunately the raised voices couldn’t be heard over the noisy conversations in the living room.
“Don’t walk away from me, boy.” Deke’s voice lashed sharp as a whip.
Chris stopped, turned back toward his father. The set of his face was rigid, austere, as if it had been carved from granite. Except for the sneer on his lips, which made his handsome face ugly.
“Let’s face it. You never understood me. And I sure as hell never understood you. Why anyone would want to waste his life tending cattle is beyond me.” Chris gave a humorless laugh. “The Fortunes could buy everything you own, down to that prizewinning bull you’re so proud of, out of petty cash.”
The words shot from Chris’s lips like bullets. Gabi had no doubt they were intended to wound the target. By the rage building on Deke’s face, they’d hit the mark square on.
“They run big businesses,” Chris continued. “Important businesses. They command power and respect.”
“Good for them.” Deke spat the words. “But you seem to be forgetting one important fact. You’re not a Fortune. You’re Chris Jones.”
“Christopher Fortune Jones,” Chris responded with extra emphasis. “I’m going to make something of myself.”
“This has gone on long enough.” Jude’s easy smile had disappeared. He was clenching his jaw tight, and his hands were now fisted at his sides. But when he started to move, his mother stepped forward and grabbed his arm.
“Let your father handle this,” she told her son in a low tone. “This is between him and Chris. You don’t need to be getting in the middle of it.”
“He’s gone too far this time,” Jude argued. “Acting like Dad is nothing and the Fortunes—”
“Jude.” His mother’s grip tightened. “I said let your father handle this.”
“—and I’m not coming back.”
Gabi shifted her attention just in time to see Chris hop into a pickup, slam the door shut and tear off down the road in a cloud of dust.
Standing as tall and stiff as any statue, Deke watched him drive off.
“Reminds me of some of the arguments between my father and brothers.” Gabi kept her tone light, hoping to defuse some of the tension.
“Chris and his daddy.” Jeanne Marie gave a little laugh, though her eyes remained troubled. “Oil and water.”
Before Gabi could even begin to formulate a response, Jeanne Marie turned toward the roomful of family and friends and clapped her hands. The chatter of voices immediately ceased.
“It’s time to eat.” The older woman’s gaze shifted to Orlando. She smiled. “Before we start, I’d like a round of applause for our guest. Orlando Mendoza is back home and racing down the road to a full recovery. Orlando, we couldn’t be happier.”
Her father blushed as everyone applauded and cheered.
By the time Gabi got her food and settled down next to Jude on the sofa, her mind had already made several trips back to her earlier conversation with Jude. She had the feeling he’d been about to ask her to stay.
It was probably best he’d been interrupted by his brothers. She still had to tell him about the transplant. Lay it all out. The good. The bad. The ugly.
She’d thought she could just walk away. But her need for him, her love for him, was a powerful force, urging her to discuss the matter with him before making any decisions. Just in case she was wrong and having a family wasn’t that important to him.
Yes, she would tell him. Then they would see.
The dishes had been cleared and she’d risen to grab some dessert for her father when a sweet-smelling baby in a candy-striped dress with a pink headband was thrust into her arms.
“Could you hold Piper a sec, Gabi?” Stacey danced from one foot to the other. “Delaney and I have been on this drinking-more-water kick. The downside is now I have to pee every five minutes.”
“Sure.”
The word had barely made it past Gabi’s lips when Stacey dashed off, leaving a seven-month-old who smelled like talcum powder in her arms. Piper gazed up, her green eyes large and luminous. For a second, Gabi feared she’d cry, but then the baby’s rosebud of a mouth blossomed into a smile.
“You’re such a cutie,” Gabi crooned. She felt a lovely ache that went all the way down to her soul when the baby gurgled and waved her plump arms. “And this pink headband with the bling is super stylish.”
“Reminds me of her at that age,” Gabi heard her father say. “Prettiest little thing you ever saw.”
Gabi looked up and realized she had an audience.
Her dad’s eyes were dark with memories that likely included her mother. But it was the expression of longing and love she saw on Jude’s face that ripped her in two. She knew his face, understood in that moment he was seeing her holding his child, their child, and envisioning a long and happy life with her by his side.
Suddenly the baby felt unspeakably heavy in her arms and the ring she wore beneath her sweater hung like a millstone around her neck. Thankfully, Stacey soon breezed back into the room to take the child.
While her father and Jude enjoyed the dessert of peach cobbler, Gabi brooded. She should have stuck to her original plan and kept things easy-breezy between her and Jude. She never should have let herself fall in love with him.
At least she’d come to her senses in time. She couldn’t guarantee Jude the babies he wanted or a long life with the woman he loved. No matter what he might say, he wanted those things. The truth had been in his eyes.
That’s why as soon as Gabi saw her father settled, she would leave Horseback Hollow and Jude Fortune Jones. Because she loved him, because she wanted the best for him, she had no choice.
Chapter Sixteen
Jude hated that he felt resentful of Orlando’s improved health, but it was hard not to, considering he’d barely had a second alone with Gabi since her father had been released from the rehab center.
After lunch on Sun
day, he’d offered to ride home with Gabi and help Orlando get settled. But Gabi had put him off, telling him she wanted some dad-and-daughter time.
On Monday when he called she’d said the nurse, therapist, as well as Orlando’s new health aide would be in and out all day so she didn’t want more company.
Jude told her he understood, but he didn’t. He wasn’t company. But he hadn’t argued. She’d sounded tired and stressed, and he’d begun to wonder if her father’s care was turning out to be more than she’d anticipated. Perhaps more than she could handle.
Thankfully today had started on an upswing. Orlando had texted him at the crack of dawn, sounding upbeat and cheerful. Gabi had called and asked him to come over at four.
The invitation gave him hope things were leveling off and they were settling into a routine. Frankly, he’d been worried about her.
When she left the ranch house on Sunday, the lines of strain that had appeared on her face as the afternoon progressed had been the only reason he hadn’t followed through with his plan of enticing her out to the pond and getting down on one knee.
As he parked his truck in front of Orlando’s house, he saw Alma standing on her curb, sweeping the street. Monique sat like a princess in the yard, tall and regal, watching her mistress work.
Jude waved.
“It’s good to have Orlando home,” she called out.
He deserved an Academy Award for his enthusiastic agreement.
Gabi opened the door to his knock. “Jude.”
“You remember my name,” he said in a teasing tone, then gave her a quick kiss before pushing past her to step inside. “It’s a good start.”
Pulling the door shut behind him, she brought a hand to her lips, looking oddly flustered. She wore jeans, sneakers and a long-sleeved blue Henley. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. The shadows under her eyes and her paleness were new and made him frown.
It wasn’t simply the pallor that concerned him; it was the sadness in her eyes. But when he reached for her hand, she stepped away with a casualness that seemed too calculated to be anything but deliberate.
Unease slithered up his spine.
“Who is it?” Orlando yelled over the television noise.
“It’s Jude,” Gabi announced as she followed him into the room.
Orlando looked up from where he was positioned in front of a big screen tuned to a sitcom popular in the late eighties.
“Hey, Jude,” her father said, then chuckled as if he’d made an original joke. “It’s good to see you. Gabi mentioned you’d be dropping by.”
“It’s such a beautiful day, I thought I might entice your daughter to play hooky and take a short walk with me.” Jude shifted his gaze to Gabi, offered what he hoped was an engaging smile. “Chico, too.”
The dog, currently sitting on Orlando’s lap, lifted his head and began to whine softly.
“I don’t think I should go that f—” Gabi began.
“There’s a park just around the corner,” Jude said before she could refuse. “With swings.”
“Gabi loves to swing,” Orlando said.
She cast her father a narrowed, glinting glance.
“Well, you do.” The older man shrugged, a smile tipping his lips.
“It’s settled.” Jude gave a short whistle and Chico jumped down and came to him.
“I couldn’t possibly leave my father alone.” Gabi spoke so quickly she stumbled over the words. “He just got home a few days ago.”
“I’m more than capable of watching television without a nursemaid hovering—” Orlando paused, reached over and took his daughter’s hand at the stricken look on her face. “Don’t get me wrong. I love having you with me, fussing and making sure I have what I need. But you and Chico should take a walk with Jude. It’ll do you both good to get out of the house, breathe some fresh air.”
“Okay,” she said finally, reluctantly, then leaned over to kiss her father’s cheek. “I won’t be long.”
“Take your time.” Orlando waved his good hand in the air. “My show is just starting.”
“Do you need anything before I go?” Gabi asked.
“I’m fine.”
“Your cell phone is right there.” Gabi pointed to a tray table next to her father’s chair. “I’m taking mine with me. If you need anything, call.”
“Go.” Orlando waved her away without shifting his eyes from the screen.
Bright patches of pink stained Gabi’s cheeks. She grabbed a leash and clipped it onto Chico’s collar. When she reached the door, Gabi hesitated once more. But after seeing her father’s gaze still glued to the television, she stepped outside without another word.
Wanting to comfort, Jude placed a palm at the small of her back, but her instant recoil had him dropping his hand to his side.
As they walked, Chico trotted happily between them.
“Nice evening,” Gabi said in the polite tone you’d use with a stranger.
“It is indeed.” Jude turned at the corner in the direction of the small park.
He’d hoped she would voluntarily share what was troubling her. But when another block passed in silence, Jude decided to go with the direct approach. “Tell me what’s going on, Gabi. I want to help.”
A nervous laugh slipped past her lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“For starters, you’ve been freezing me out.” He slanted a sideways glance. “Did I do something on Sunday to offend you? Is that why I’ve been banished to Siberia?”
“No,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “Of course not.”
Jude waited for her to continue.
“You didn’t do anything other than maybe put the wrong spin on things.” She licked her lips. “That’s why I asked you to come over, to set things straight.”
A knot twisted in the pit of his stomach.
“I mean, what we had was supposed to be fun, but that’s all.” She huffed out a breath. “On Sunday I got the feeling you wanted more.”
He did want more. Marriage. Kids. As his father would say, the whole ball of wax. She wanted that, too.
Before he could respond, she pulled his championship ring out from beneath her shirt and jerked the chain up and over her head. When she pressed the ring into his hand, he took it only to casually cast it into the cavernous depths of the bag slung over her shoulder.
Her lips pressed together. “I don’t want to go steady anymore.”
“I don’t, either.”
The response, delivered in a matter-of-fact tone, caught her off guard.
“You don’t?” For a second her eyes widened. “I mean that’s good. We’re in agreement. Let me give this back to—”
She started to reach into the bag, but Jude laid a restraining hand on her arm. “I don’t want to go steady with you,” he said softly. “I want to marry you.”
Gabi yanked back with such force she’d have fallen if he hadn’t reached out to steady her.
“You don’t want to marry me,” she insisted, panic in her voice.
“I do.”
“You don’t know me.” Frustration ground through her words like shards of glass.
Something was going on. Jude was sure of it. And whatever it was didn’t have a darn thing to do with her father. He wished he could simply kiss the problem away. But he had a feeling this one was like a splinter. It would need to be dug out before they could be done with it and move on.
“I do know you.” He gentled his tone, recognizing her increasing distress even if he didn’t understand the reason for it yet. “Quite well, in fact.”
They reached the playground. While the newer section, with its play center of slides and decks was overrun with toddlers, the area holding the swings was deserted. Jude took a seat in one of the slings and motioned for G
abi to take the one beside him. Chico sprawled in the sand at her feet and stared longingly at the children playing.
“You think you know me, but you don’t.” She slipped the band from her head and gave her hair a toss.
“I know everything important.”
“Did you know I had a heart transplant when I was nineteen?” Gabi knew she wasn’t playing fair, but she saw no choice. His future happiness had to be her primary concern.
Jude brought his swing, which had been swaying ever-so-slightly, to an abrupt halt. “What?”
She met his startled gaze head-on. “I had a heart transplant. Seven years ago.”
For a second Jude forgot how to breathe. “You said you had heart surgery.”
“A heart transplant is heart surgery,” she said in a disdainful tone.
Jude didn’t know much about transplants other than they were a big deal. And usually, like Leslie, who was now recovering in Houston from a liver transplant, you had to be pretty ill before getting one. He leveled a long stare in her direction. “Why did you have one?”
Surprisingly, she gave him the details without much prompting. He listened as she recounted the bout of stomach flu, the shortness of breath, learning the virus from the gastroenteritis had attacked the heart and left it with irreversible damage.
His blood ran cold at the thought of how close she’d come to losing her life.
“That’s why I’m so focused on eating healthy and exercising,” she added.
“Makes sense,” Jude said automatically, even though right now nothing was making sense.
He felt as if he’d plunged into an alternate world. The way Gabi was acting didn’t make sense. The fact that she’d kept something that was such an important part of her life a secret from him sure as heck didn’t make sense. “Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
“Our relationship was supposed to be light—just fun and games.” She lifted one shoulder in the type of irritating shrug his sisters often used. “Heart transplant stuff is heavy.”
His head spun. Forget alternate world. He’d fallen headlong into an alternate universe. “Then why tell me now?”