by Jeannie Watt
“I’m buying a ranch.”
“Must be nice.” The bitter words were out of her mouth before she realized it.
Jason sighed. He just...sighed. Then he got to his feet. “I’d better go. The game starts soon.”
The game he hadn’t planned to watch.
Apologize.
Allie swallowed, trying to jar the stubborn words loose. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”
Jason stopped and turned back toward her. “You didn’t mean to sound rude and acerbic? To lash out?” Allie pulled in a breath but before she could speak, he said, “Or you didn’t mean to let your true feelings show?”
“I can’t help but be jealous of you,” she blurted. “You know what you want and you have the resources to get it.”
She was answered with a long, hard look. “You have no idea of what you’re talking about, Allie.”
“Then explain it to me.” The irony of her words hit her hard. She’d just snarked about having things explained to her.
“Why? Because you want to hear that the golden boy has problems?” Her mouth opened and he added, “Yeah. I know you call me that.”
Heat flared in Allie’s cheeks. And yes, she did want to hear that he had problems, just as she did, and what kind of person did that make her? He started for his truck again while Allie stood rooted next to the old foundation. Did she call him back? Apologize again?
Had she actually apologized the first time?
Jason got into his truck without looking at her. Would he be back?
Would she be back if their positions were reversed? Allie sank down onto the foundation as he drove away. She’d said just three small words, but they had represented an ocean of repressed resentment—even though she liked Jason, she couldn’t get around the fact that she resented the ease with which he strode through life, throwing money at problems—and Jason had perfectly read the situation. Just as he seemed to perfectly read her so often. Allie closed her eyes, drew a breath.
Something had to change.
She had to change.
CHAPTER TEN
MONDAY WAS TURNING INTO...one of those days. Kate was behind schedule and Jason decided to wait for her because she was taking Max to the therapist—which meant he wouldn’t see Allie before work, and, frankly, he was good with that.
“Afraid he’d bolt?” Kate asked when she came in the back door and saw Jason sitting at the table, drinking coffee.
“The thought had crossed my mind.”
Honestly, he had no idea what Max would do anymore, but his dad hated seeing the doctor. “Depressing,” the old man had grumbled more than once the previous evening. He’d been so focused on his own issues that he didn’t notice Jason quietly simmering. Was Allie ever going to get past his perceived circumstances? Could he expect her to, if he didn’t explain? Yeah. He at least expected her to recognize that he wasn’t in the easiest of situations. Money didn’t solve everything.
“I just hope he listens to the doctor.”
“Thanks for running the gauntlet today. I know it’s a pain.”
Kate shrugged. “No big deal. Dad doesn’t fight me as much as he fights you.” Jason had planned to go, but Kate had told him it would be better if she went alone. “You should get to work before your boss docks your pay.”
Jason smirked as he handed Kate a cup of coffee. “Right. Dad’s shaving. He promised to be ready on time. Call if you have difficulties.”
She waved her hand and Jason headed out the door.
Zach was already on-site, stacking boards, when Jason arrived.
“You’re late,” Zach said.
“Couldn’t be helped. Issues with my dad.”
“We should start a club.” Jason shot the kid a look, but he was focused on gathering more scrap lumber. “Allie stopped by. She didn’t seem to think you’d show up.”
Jason shrugged. “Must have been a miscommunication.”
Zack tossed a board. “We should be done here by tomorrow.”
“We’re taking apart the foundation.”
“Really?” The kid’s face brightened before he forgot himself. His expression sobered, but he sounded sincere when he said, “I could use the money.”
“Not a lot of jobs out there right now.” As he well knew.
“No kidding,” Zach muttered. “I’m supposed to start college this fall, but it’s so expensive, I don’t know if I will. If I don’t go, I have to find steady work. So far this is the best I can do.”
There was no way that Jason was going to tell Zach that he was in the same situation, because he was, yet he wasn’t. Zach needed a job to support himself. Jason needed a job so he didn’t go crazy. His circumstances weren’t as dire, but his concerns were legit. Right? A guy couldn’t go through life feeling useless. The one thing he never wanted to be was useless.
“I can finish with the boards if you want to start on the foundation.”
Zach perked up. “You brought tools?”
“I did.”
“Sledgehammers?”
“And mallets and bars.” Jason jerked his head toward the truck. A few minutes later the equipment was unloaded and Zach was weighing a sledgehammer in his hands.
“And these.” Jason held out a pair of safety glasses. Zach grimaced, but took them and slipped them on.
“How do I look?”
“Like you’re ready to break up a foundation.”
Zach gave a satisfied grunt and started back toward the barn, hammer in one hand, pry bar in the other. A few seconds later he was hammering away at the most crumbled part of the foundation. It looked...satisfying. Jason abandoned the boards and returned to his truck to get his own hammer, when he happened to notice a cow down in the field. The cow that Allie had been waiting forever to calve.
She didn’t look like she was having an easy time of it. He watched the cow strain and then stop. Strain and then stop.
“Hey,” he called as soon as he was close enough for Zach to hear. The kid looked up and Jason pointed toward the cow.
A concerned look instantly crossed Zach’s face and he put down the crowbar and headed toward the pasture. Jason fell in step and then they stopped simultaneously thirty yards from the cow.
“She’s definitely in distress,” Zach said. “Do you know where Allie keeps the chains?”
“That shed,” Jason said, working over the fact that everyone seemed so nonchalant about hooking chains to a calf and yanking it out of the cow. They walked to the shed together and Zach grabbed the bucket and the antiseptic.
“Any idea if she’s friendly?”
“I don’t think she’s in a position to challenge us.”
“You might be surprised,” Zach muttered.
“Allie said she’s one of her favorites.”
“Good.”
Zach set about doing almost exactly what Allie had done previously, reaching into the cow, easing things around, attaching the chains.
“Allie said this wasn’t all that common.”
“Depends on the bull.” His tone was clipped, but matter-of-fact. He put tension on the chains as the cow strained. He eased his hand inside again. “Everything’s normal, but the calf is really big. This is the point where my grandpa would have said, ‘Get the tractor.’”
Jason didn’t even want to think how a tractor would be involved in the birthing process. “There’s a jack thing.”
“Yeah?” Zach looked over his shoulder. “Would you get it? We might need it.”
“I, uh, don’t know what it looks like.”
Zach muttered something that sounded like “It figures,” then handed Jason the chains. “Keep them tight when—”
“I’ve done this before.”
“Great. Back in a few.�
�� Zach got to his feet and jogged to the shed, coming back a few minutes later with a medieval torture device that he propped against the back end of the cow. He attached the chains, then when the cow strained, he started cranking. When she stopped, he stopped. But it was working. The nose appeared and Zach ripped open the sac. That nasty blue tongue fell out and then Zach was cranking again. After the head appeared, the rest of the calf slipped out onto the grass. Zach quickly removed the apparatus and after peeling the bag back from the calf’s head some more, stepped back to stand behind Jason.
“Now we just got to hope that she doesn’t have any internal damage.” The exhausted cow raised her head and looked over her shoulder at her baby. Jason could have sworn he saw a cartoon heart forming over her head as she laid eyes on the newborn.
“Ain’t no love like mama-cow love,” Zach said as the cow maneuvered herself around to start licking her baby. Jason smiled and then Zach put his who-cares? mask back on again. “We should check her again in a bit, but I think she’s going to be fine.”
“I hope so.” The calf was pretty damned cute and it needed a mother.
“Every lost cow or calf is lost revenue,” Zach said as they started back to the site. He sounded matter-of-fact and businesslike and didn’t seem swayed by the cuteness factor.
But he was an old hand at the cattle business. Jason was not, but he liked the idea of getting a small herd. Learning more. Hell, maybe he could employ Zach as his property manager.
* * *
ZACH WAS STILL at the ranch when Allie got home after her best day of work since she’d started. She’d actually anticipated trouble and headed it off before it happened. The library was the calmest it had been in weeks, story time with the kindergarteners had gone well and Mrs. Wilson-Jones had given her kudos at the end of the day. Her sense of accomplishment and well-being faded, however, when she saw that Jason’s truck wasn’t there—even though she was home earlier than usual. Maybe he was done with her and the Lightning Creek, although she couldn’t imagine him abandoning Zach.
She parked and got out of her car as Zach started toward her.
“Hey,” Zach called. “We pulled a calf for you today.”
We. Jason had shown up. She was glad of that.
“Did Jason turn green?”
Zach smiled. “He didn’t.”
Allie pushed her windblown hair back from her face. “I’d hoped to speak with him.”
“He had to leave early. His dad went to the doctor today and he had to spell his sister.”
“Ah.” She wanted so much to ask, “Did he seem all right?” But, of course, she couldn’t do that.
“You need to think about getting a smaller bull,” Zach said. “That calf was ginormous and Jason said you had to pull others.”
“Only two.” But he was probably right. It was the first year they’d used this bull. She’d discuss it with Jolie the next time her sister called to check on her. Because that was what they were doing—tag-teaming to check on her. She was glad they hadn’t involved their mother. Small mercies and all that.
“Thanks for pulling the calf,” Allie said. “It’s hard not being on the place during calving. I’ve been lucky so far.” Not that she was the only part-time rancher who had to work a day job, but it still didn’t make it easy.
“Yeah, I can see that,” Zach said. He closed the tailgate of his truck, then leaned against the bumper.
“Between the two of us, someone will be here, so you don’t have to worry about the last calves.”
“And then my sisters will move home and I won’t have to worry at all next spring.”
“You’re leaving?”
Allie hadn’t said anything yet to Liz about her doubts about her teaching career, so she smiled at Zach and said, “I won’t stay here at the ranch. It’ll be too crowded with two sisters and two brothers-in-law.”
“There’s always the bunkhouse,” Zach teased.
“You haven’t seen the inside of that place.” Allie rolled her eyes. Talk about chaos. They’d stored grain and old tools and anything that needed protection from mice in there for years. It was one of the few places none of her sisters had tackled—probably due to the intimidation factor.
“If you need someone to muck it out after I’m done with the foundation...”
Zach shifted uncomfortably and Allie gave a considering nod. “Not a bad idea.”
“Yeah. Well...” Zach shrugged. “I’d better get going.”
“Yeah. Thanks again for the healthy calf.”
“Not a problem.”
Allie went to check the cow as soon as she got to the house. The old girl seemed no worse for wear and the calf wobbling around her was indeed ginormous, as Zach had said.
Yes. New bull.
She breathed deeply, pulling in the familiar spring scents of damp earth and sun-warmed grass as she headed back to the house. Lilac buds were popping and the daffodils she and her dad had planted around the base of the trees in the front yard were bobbing their golden heads in the breeze.
Her dad had loved this ranch so much. And she’d loved him so much.
What would her dad think of her now? Would he be proud?
She let out a breath and walked around the house to the backyard, where she sat in the swing he’d built when Jolie was a baby. The wooden seat was worn from the weather and just a little damp.
Her dad would be proud that she’d finished her degree. That was an accomplishment. He’d hammered in the importance of committing to a task until it was completed. She’d done that, after a five-year hiatus.
She turned the swing, twisting the ropes until the seat rose higher, just as she’d done as a child.
Her dad wouldn’t be so proud of what the ranch had turned into while she’d been married to Kyle, but he’d also have understood. The ranch had gone to hell before. It was the nature of the business, but her father had poured his heart and soul into the ranch during good times and bad. Believed in the worth of his occupation.
The thought made Allie cringe a little. She believed in the worth of her occupation, but even though she’d had a better day and was beginning to believe she could be successful, she didn’t know if she’d ever love education the way her father had loved ranching—or the way Jason had loved football.
Yet another unspoken reason she was jealous of the man. She felt as if he’d experienced everything she hadn’t.
Her dad would not be proud.
She twisted the swing again, until her toes barely touched the ground, then pushed off and launched herself, swinging as the ropes unwound, making the world a blur as she spun. She felt a little nauseous by the time the swing slowed, something that hadn’t happened when she’d been younger.
Or maybe she’d enjoyed the good part of the ride so much that she hadn’t noticed the resulting vertigo. Enjoyed the good instead of dwelling on the bad.
Yes, she’d had traumas here, but the ranch wasn’t to blame any more than the Eagle Valley or the state of Montana was to blame. It wasn’t the locale...it was what she’d attached to that locale in her mind. The locale was an excuse for not dealing fully with her past.
Instead of being proactive, she’d been avoiding. Pushing aside everything that reminded her of the past as if it would change her past—even pushing aside things she loved.
Tough people adapted and grew.
Allie got out of the swing, picked up her purse off the grass and headed for the back door.
Tough people also picked up the phone and apologized when necessary. A tough woman would call Jason.
* * *
“ABOUT TIME,” KATE muttered as Jason walked in the back door. “I think we’re going to have to hire a professional.”
“Hit man?”
“It’s crossed my mind.” Kate’s shoulders slumpe
d. “I’m not worried about Dad physically so much as I’m getting concerned about the way he’s trying to manipulate everyone around him.”
“What happened?” Jason automatically opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. It was becoming a ritual. Come home, drink a beer, face his father. Not the healthiest lifestyle. He put the beer back.
“We went to the doctor and Dad lambasted him. I’m surprised that he was allowed to make another appointment. It’s everyone’s fault but his that he’s eating a bland diet and can’t drink and blah, blah, blah. If I were the doctor, I would have decked him.”
Great.
He went into the living room, where his dad was stretched out in his chair. The Dobes barely raised their eyelids. “What’s the deal, Dad?”
“What do you mean?”
“You gave the doctor a hard time?”
“I didn’t like his attitude.”
“Find someone else.”
“It might have been different if you’d come along instead of doing that ridiculous bullshit you’re spending your days doing. It’s just to get out away from me, isn’t it?”
“Why would anyone want to get away from you, Dad?”
Max narrowed his eyes at his traitorous son. “Don’t get all smart-ass with me. You might have been a big-shot pro, but now you’re just a guy without a job.”
His dad was angry and Jason was getting there faster by the second. But instead of saying, “Speaking of bullshit, Dad, I didn’t come home to take yours,” he said, “I think you should see someone about your anger before you have another attack.”
The way Max’s eyes bulged, Jason was afraid that he’d tipped over then and there. “You mean a shrink?”
“Whatever you want to call it. A counselor, therapist, whatever.”