J.D. folded her arms across her chest, mostly to stop the shivers that raced through her.
She hadn’t seen him face-to-face in two weeks. She certainly hadn’t anticipated the emotions swirling through her and she sorely wished she’d worn something more presentable than the black track suit she’d traveled most of the night in. “I thought you weren’t going to be here.”
“Obviously, I was able to make it, after all.”
“What about your sons?”
“They’re with my aunt for the moment.”
“In California?”
His lips tightened a little. “I have the feeling that you’re going to disapprove no matter how I answer.”
Her approval or disapproval could hardly matter to Jake. “You’re the one who said you had to get your sons squared away with another boarding school.” Maybe all he’d done was delegate the task to his aunt. And he was obviously less surprised to see her there than she was to see him. “I suppose you’ve spoken with Miguel.” It wasn’t really a question, but Jake still nodded.
And if he’d have had anything else to add, J.D. would never know, because Dr. Windsor did return then. The tired smile the surgeon gave was only slightly encouraging. “We’ve pinned what we could and removed a few fragments that were crushed beyond repair. In that regard, the surgery’s a success, though his prognosis is still poor. We’ve moved him to the recovery pool now.”
J.D. knew that Latitude would be suspended by a sling into a water-cushioned limbo, minimizing his chances of reinjuring himself as he regained consciousness. After that, the next step would be to keep him from reinjuring himself when he was out of the pool.
Every step, literally, would be a test. And each test would be performed on the tightrope of preventing some other complication because horses, despite their immense size, possessed extremely complicated systems.
“It’ll still be another hour or two before we know more,” the surgeon continued. “Go and get something to eat. Some rest. We’ll call.”
Jake thanked him and the surgeon headed out again.
J.D., though, hurried after him. “Dr. Windsor, is it possible for me to go back to the pool area?”
His eyes narrowed for a moment. “I’ll see what I can arrange.”
“Thank you.”
Angel came up behind J.D. “Do you think that’s wise?” Her voice was soft. “Latitude could thrash around. That’s a half ton of horse flesh. If you get too near him—” her eyebrows lifted meaningfully “—need I elaborate?”
“I’ll keep a safe distance away,” J.D. promised.
Her sister looked skeptical. “And when have you ever been able to keep your distance from a horse in distress?”
“Things are different now.” Her gaze went past Angel to Jake who was watching them closely. But she knew he couldn’t have overheard their whispered exchange.
She slowly returned to the waiting area. “I hope you don’t mind.” Her hand moved awkwardly. “That I asked to be allowed into recovery.”
His dark eyes seemed to study her even more closely. “Why would I mind?”
“I’m not with Forrest’s Crossing anymore. I probably should have run it by you first.”
“Probably,” he agreed. “But about what I expected. You and that colt—” He shook his head slightly. “I have some business to take care of, but I’ll send my driver back for you. You and your sister can join me later for dinner.”
“Oh, but—”
“Thank you, Jake,” Angeline spoke smoothly over J.D. “That’s very kind of you.”
“But I don’t think—”
“It’s the least I can do.” He seemed to have the same desire to speak over J.D.’s protests. “Did you already arrange accommodations for the night?”
Aggravated with the both of them, J.D. crossed her arms and named the usual hotel that his stable crew used—on the rare occasions when they’d bothered with a hotel at all.
“I’ll arrange rooms for you at the Plaza where I’m staying, instead.”
“I want to stay near Latitude,” J.D. countered evenly.
His expression tightened a little. “I’m well aware of where your priorities lay. I’ll ensure that you have access to my driver so you can come and go as you please.”
“But—”
Angeline closed her arm around J.D.’s shoulder, her hand squeezing. “I’ve always wanted to stay at the Plaza,” she said amicably.
J.D. hadn’t wanted to pinch her sister so badly since Angel let slip to their ninth-grade class that J.D. had a crush on the history teacher.
“Then consider it done.” Jake smiled, annoyingly satisfied as he addressed Angeline, almost as if J.D. weren’t even there. “Until later, then.”
Her teeth were nearly gnashing together as he strode away. “Until later, then,” she repeated under her breath once he was gone. “You are married, you know,” she reminded crossly. “With a baby on the way.”
Angel laughed right out loud. “Good Lord, J.D. You do have it bad.”
“I don’t have it bad.” But she realized the more she protested, the more it sounded as if she did. “I’m not in love with Jake Forrest,” she said softly. Distinctly. “I had sex with him once.” Amazing sex. World class sex. “That’s all.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” Angeline’s tone was humorous. She tucked her arm through J.D.’s and steered her around until she was no longer staring after the spot that Jake had vacated. “Just remember what resulted from that singular incident. You’ve got a baby on the way, too, and maybe as a concerned sister, I think it’s my duty to get to know the daddy a little better.”
“He wasn’t even supposed to be here!” She was appalled at the way her emotions careened inside her.
“Well, he is,” Angel pointed out gently, “and frankly, the man seems exceedingly gracious.”
“It’s an act,” J.D. muttered. “A warm, honey-smooth Southern act. The man wants something.”
“What if what he wants is you?”
She ignored the hop-skip-and-a-jump inside her. “The only thing he wants from me has to do with Latitude.”
“Are you certain?”
“Believe me. I couldn’t be further from his type if I tried.”
Angel lifted her eyebrows. “And yet,” she waved her hand slightly. “Look what happened.”
J.D. made a face. Sex wasn’t the same thing as a relationship. She’d already learned that lesson thanks to Donny and Troy. And she’d proven with them that she wasn’t the forever-after type. And when it came to her baby, whether Jake wanted her or not was immaterial because she never wanted her child to look at him with that combination of agonizing yearning and pained acceptance the way that Zach and Connor looked at him. She couldn’t bear it.
“Ms. Clay?” A young woman wearing pink surgical scrubs appeared. “Dr. Windsor said I should take you back to the pool.”
A different brand of nervousness shot through her. J.D. looked at Angel. “I didn’t think to ask if you minded waiting even longer.”
Her sister shooed her. “I’ll be fine. I want to call Brody anyway. You just be very careful.”
The fact that J.D. had a reason to be very careful was still something that she found hard to believe. “I will.”
As it turned out, none of them had needed to worry about Latitude’s reaction to coming out of his anesthesia. Like the trouper that he was, he remained calm and cooperative, while blindfolded and blanketed, with tubes running here and there, he was hoisted out of the odd raft-shaped contraption and slowly, carefully, maneuvered around until he was settled on his feet. His injured limb was heavily bandaged. A special horseshoe had been placed on his right hind hoof to help offset the weight and height of the bandages on his left.
He was as still as he could be, and J.D. knew that he sensed he had to be. And when they slowly walked him the short distance to a stall and his blindfold was finally removed, she didn’t bother trying to hold back her tears when he butted his head against her should
er, nearly tearing right through the sterile gown she’d been given to wear before entering the pool area. “I’d feed you peppermints all night if I could.” She stroked his cheek. “Such a brave boy.”
He huffed at that and she smiled a little and pressed her lips against his nose.
“He’s probably protesting the boy bit,” Jake’s voice came from behind her.
Her bootie-covered shoes slipped when she whirled around to face him.
“Whoa.” Jake’s arm shot out and caught her shoulder, stopping her slide. “You all right?”
Aside from shaking all over? “Fine,” she lied. “I didn’t expect you to come back.”
“Lat is my horse.” His reminder was mild. “I finished earlier than expected and wanted to see how he was doing.”
He wore a disposable gown similar to hers over his trousers and shirt, though his gown was considerably tighter across his shoulders.
She turned her gaze to safer regions. Namely Latitude. “He’s doing great.”
“Hmm.” Jake’s arm brushed against her as he reached around her to run his hand over the colt’s head. “He’s in for a long recuperation.”
“Yes.” She inched away. “I should get back to my sister. It’s been a long day for us both.”
“I saw her in the waiting room. I put her in a cab back to the hotel already. As you said, it’s been a long day and she was almost asleep in her chair out there.”
Guilt swamped her. Her sister had been incredibly supportive. But she had good reason, herself, to be exhausted. “Thank you,” she forced out the words.
His brown gaze slanted down at her. “It just about chokes you to say that, doesn’t it?”
Her cheeks heated, but there was no point in denying what was so plainly obvious. “I’m sorry. I just find it difficult to accept your generosity when there’s no—”
In a flash, his hand had moved from stroking Latitude’s head, to pressing a long finger over her lips. “There’s reason. One very good reason.”
Her mouth ran dry. She couldn’t see well enough past his thick, spiky lashes to read his hooded gaze. “What?” His finger felt warm and intimate as she formed the word.
“I’m sure you know.” He drew his finger downward until the tip tugged gently against the very center of her lower lip.
The stall gate was a welcome support against her.
He couldn’t possibly know about the baby.
Just because Angeline had figured it out on her own didn’t mean that Jake would have, too. “N-no.”
“I want you to come back and work with Latitude.”
Her tension escaped like a stuck balloon, leaving her feeling just as deflated.
Of course he meant Latitude. What else?
Chapter Seven
Jake wasn’t accustomed to the tension he felt, waiting for J.D.’s answer.
And when it came, she didn’t even look him in the face. “I can’t.” She pressed her hands together. “I’ve told you that.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
She ducked beneath his shoulder. Latitude’s head shifted, his dark, solemn eyes tracking her.
“Can’t,” she repeated. “I’ve bought a small spread in Weaver. I’m boarding horses.”
He lifted his brows. “That was quick. You’ve been gone from Forrest’s Crossing for only two weeks.” He could have calculated it down to days, hours and maybe even minutes if she’d asked.
Not that he intended on admitting that particular point. It was his own damn fault that he missed her presence more acutely than he’d expected.
Her cheeks were rosy. “It was quick. But I found the right property at the right time and saw no reason to wait. The owner was as anxious to sell as I was to buy. And when I can afford it, I’ll buy the adjoining property, too.”
“Setting down roots in a big hurry.”
She lifted her shoulder. “So? I haven’t had roots—” she sketched air quotes with her fingers “—in a long time.” Her eyes met his, strangely intense. “I’m thirty-one. I’m not getting any younger. It’s…time.”
His nape prickled a little. “Now you’re sounding like my sister Charlotte. She’s either begging for more responsibilities at Forco or moaning about time running out for her to have children. One of these days she’ll learn she can’t have both.”
“Why not?”
“So she can be a parent like I am? Kids take time. Forco doesn’t leave any. Next thing you’ll be telling me is that your biological clock is ticking.”
Her chin lifted. “What if it…was?”
“Then I wish you luck settling down with some good old rancher boy.” The fact that he’d want to destroy said rancher boy was beside the point.
“Ah.” Her lips twisted. She looked away. “As it happens, I’m not looking for a husband. Just a place to call my own. And now that I’ve found one, I don’t intend to leave it.”
“Not even for Latitude?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “You’d have to be boarding a helluva lot of horses to make what I’m willing to pay you. Think what you could do with the money at this place you call your own.”
“Not everything is about money.”
His lips tensed. “Everything is about money.” He’d learned that when he was a kid and the mother who claimed to want him and his sisters so badly had settled instead for a hefty chunk of money before she’d skipped on down the road.
“Is that the only reason you’re spending money to fix Latitude’s leg?”
“Of course. He may not race again—probably won’t—but he’s got to be able to stand at stud.”
The registration of thoroughbreds was tightly monitored and for a foal to be registered—among other requirements—it had to be the product of a physical mating. Which meant the stallion had to be physically capable of mounting a broodmare.
“And if he can’t, the insurance covering him against catastrophes like this is worth far more than he is.” She looked up at him as if he’d somehow let her down.
“I don’t invest in a horse for the pleasure of watching him graze in a pasture. I expect a return.” He lifted his hand. “And before you start arguing with me, I’m already well aware that you disagree.”
“So, what happens if Latitude’s leg doesn’t heal perfectly?” Her chin came up. “What if he develops complications?”
“What do you want me to say, J.D.? That I won’t, under any circumstances, look at euthanasia?” If a horse couldn’t distribute his weight evenly among his four legs, a host of difficulties could arise—some even fatal. “Would you want to condemn Lat to a life of pain?”
She looked ill. “No. But if pain isn’t an issue, and he still can’t race, and he still can’t mount a mare, then—”
“—then what good is he to me?”
She winced. “So, sell him to me.” She reached out and closed her hands over Jake’s arm, seeming to surprise herself just as much as she did him. “Sell him to me right now.”
“J.D., you know how expensive it was to just get Lat through today’s surgery?” For him, the money was insignificant. But for her? “Surgery’s just the start if his recuperation isn’t textbook perfect.”
“I don’t care.” Her voice was soft. Passionate. “I’m not indigent, Jake. I have some means.”
He knew that she came from a very successful ranching family but he also knew it wasn’t likely they had the kind of resources that he did.
And he knew what she’d been earning working for him for the past five years.
He closed his hands over hers and squeezed gently. “You just said you bought a house, J.D. You won’t work with Latitude even if it profits you. But do you really want to chance putting your entire future in financial straits? How much do you want to stretch yourself?”
Her eyes glistened. “I don’t care how far into debt it puts me.”
“You’d buy him no matter how financially unsound it would be. But you won’t come back to work with him.”
Her lips parted but sh
e didn’t answer. Her lashes swept down, hiding her eyes.
His jaw felt tight. “No. The real problem is that you won’t come back to work with me. That’s what it all keeps coming back down to.”
“I told you that my coming to see Latitude now wouldn’t change that.”
“This is because we slept together.”
She looked pained. “Jake—”
“Isn’t it? What is it you don’t want to face about that night? The fact that you enjoyed it so much?”
Her hand lifted and he caught her wrist before her palm could reach his cheek. She stared at him, her fingers curling.
“Pardon me. I need to check on Latitude.”
The third voice was jarringly intrusive.
He yanked his gaze away from J.D. to look at the source.
It was Dr. Bowen, the resident veterinarian.
Jake let out a breath and slowly released J.D. then moved away to make room for the other man to step into the stall.
He didn’t miss the way she tucked her hands around her waist as if to make certain he couldn’t touch her again.
His jaw tightened until it ached.
“Let’s see if you’re feeling hungry, eh, Latitude?” The young veterinarian’s voice was cheerful as he filled Latitude’s feed bag.
J.D. anxiously watched, but a smile touched her lips when the colt impatiently shoved past the vet to get at the feed. Her gaze flicked up to Jake and hung there for a moment. But then she moistened her lips and looked away again. “My sister probably thinks I’ve completely abandoned her. I should get going.”
That’s the way she was going to play it, then.
He tamped down the urge to push and it was harder than it should have been. “My driver is still here, waiting.”
She looked as if she wanted to refuse the ride, but after a moment, she nodded. She gave Latitude a long hug and then she and Jake left the stall area. They disposed of their paper gowns and booties, and headed out into the dark evening.
As soon as they appeared, his limo pulled away from its spot beneath a lamppost and stopped almost at their feet. Jake pulled open the rear door and waited for J.D. to climb inside.
In seconds, the car swept out of the parking lot.
A Weaver Baby Page 7