Second Chance Ranch (The Circle D series)

by Harders, Audra

  “Just a routine test. Nothing special.” Zac appeared completely unaffected by the clinic. He shifted his weight as he indicated the hall leading to the lab. “Thought it might be a good time for a check up. Actually, Jen’s the one who brought it up.”

  Her cheeks warmed as their attention centered on her. Her father raised a brow as she scrambled for an answer to the question she knew he was about to ask. “Nothing’s wrong, Dad. I was talking about cancer and the kids, and well, one thing led to another.”

  Her dad nodded and nudged Zac. “You’ll have that, you know. Doctors and nurses. We just can’t leave our work in the office.”

  “I’ve noticed that.” Zac reached out and snagged her wrist, his touch light, yet firm. “Glad you showed up, Bean. Show me where I’m supposed to go.”

  He tugged her close and Jen could only offer a weak smile. “See ya, Dad.”

  “Glad to see you two still look out for one another. Just stay out of trouble.” He shook his head and opened the folder he’d had tucked under his arm. Not bothering to look where he was going, her dad followed the familiar path to his office.

  Jen drew a breath filling her senses with the warmest scent of clean, cotton shirt and male strength she’d ever imagined. She knew she needed to straighten and put distance between them, but her body refused to entertain the idea. She pressed her ear to his chest, the strong, steady heartbeat reminding her of summers past and almost making her forget the chill of the present. As Zac’s arm clamped around her shoulders, drawing her close to his side, she wiggled out of his hold and stepped back, putting a couple of vinyl floor tiles between them. “Thanks for not telling my dad.”

  “Don’t get the wrong idea of sparing feelings. I didn’t think this was any of his business.”

  The tight, hostile edge to his voice caught her off guard. She’d never heard Zac refer to her father with anything but respect. She hadn’t considered how Zac might want to handle the situation. Protecting her dad from her errors in judgment had been her primary focus. “The lab is right around the corner.”

  Just before they reached the lab, Zac took her hand and tugged her down an empty corridor with an emergency door at the end. “I hate going into situations blind. What’s going to happen here? How long is this going to take? How am I supposed to answer their questions?”

  The edge to his voice had faded. He sounded more like the Zac she knew years ago, the one who was always up for the adventure, but then turned to her for confirmation. Her dad was right. They still looked out for one another. “They’re going to swab the inside of your cheeks to collect cells for tissue typing.”

  Goose bumps ran up her arm as the callused pad of his thumb traced a nervous path back and forth along the inside of her wrist. She placed her other hand over his knuckles. “I’m sorry I didn’t explain this earlier. I didn’t think you wanted to talk to me.”

  “I didn’t.” He squeezed her fingers. “But since you’re here, I’m asking.”

  “I guess I deserve that.” She relaxed a bit. She might stumble over farming and business plans, but nursing was her home turf. “The blood sample they’ll collect is for the HLA - Human Leucocyte Antigen - test. The antigen is a substance that acts like a marker, it’s unique to you, much like your fingerprints.” She released his hand and wiggled her fingers at him.

  At his silence, she rubbed her eyebrows trying to think of a way to make her explanation make sense. “Your blood test - this HLA testing - uses a DNA based method to match patients and donors. We should know if you’re a match in a week or two.”

  “That long? Does that give Carli enough time?”

  “It should.”

  His gaze bore down on her and Jen didn’t have the energy to remain upbeat. She covered his knuckles with her palm again and gave him a squeeze. “Look, I know you didn’t want me here today or you would have invited me. I was just finishing up some medical background checks so I guess I’ll go on back to the camp.”

  When she tried to pull back, he tightened his grip. “Don’t go.”

  The soft words tugged at her heart. “You’ll be fine.”

  “I know that.” He loosened his hold, his fingers barely wrapped around hers. “I might need a translator—you know, for all that medical-eze.”

  Jen understood. Fear of the unknown, especially of this caliber was enough to fell even the mightiest of cowboys. She nodded with practiced ease, as if encouraging a new patient to face the future with courage, even though Zac was no stranger and courage only came to her as a gift from God. She slipped her hand properly into his. A warm flush washed over her as she tugged him toward the open laboratory door. “I’ll tell them you faint at the sight of blood.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Is Jennifer O’Reilly here?”

  The brunette at the filing cabinet turned, her dark brown gaze assessing him from the top of his ball cap to the bottom of his boots. She frowned. Obviously, he didn’t pass assessment. “And who may I ask is calling?”

  “Zac Davidson.”

  She waited a moment as if expecting more from him. She’d only asked his name, that’s all the information he was going to give her. She closed the filing drawer and stepped around the desk. “One moment, I’ll see if she’s available.”

  He’d stopped in to the health office as a courtesy to her and the camp. He needed to begin cutting hay in the final portion of fields and didn’t want the kids scared by the equipment he planned to drive right through the middle of camp. The tractor looked in usable condition, he hoped the rake and baler shaped up, too. Right now, he needed the swather and from the brief glimpse he’d had of the machinery the day he pulled into the ranch, it looked like someone had upgraded their old one to a model with an enclosed cab. The cab was a luxury. Zac just hoped the thing ran.

  “Zac.” Jen came around the corner, his name floated off her lips with the same breathy sound he remembered from years ago. “Glad you dropped by. What can I do for you?”

  Jeans, a yellow t-shirt and her hair pulled back into a mess of waves, Jen didn’t look any different than the last time he’d seen her. He glanced between her, the woman he’d just spoken to, and a teenage girl sorting boxes in the corner of the room. They looked professional, she didn’t. “Where’s your coat?”

  Jen blinked a couple of times. “You mean my lab coat? It’s hanging on my chair. Why?”

  Both the other women stared at him as if expecting an intelligent answer, too. Why did he have to say anything? He hadn’t come for conversation. “Nothing.”

  “Tina and Michelle need pockets for stuff.” She pointed to the bulges in their pockets. Waving her hand along her torso, she grinned with a sassy wink. “I’m a paper pusher. I don’t do stuff.”

  “Didn’t you say you’re the director of the place?” He shifted his weight wishing he’d stopped at the doorway instead of barging mid way into the room. “Don’t you have to dress up?”

  “This is summer camp. My business suit is at the back of my closet.”

  Her laugh warmed him like morning sun on a growing field. He ducked his head, feeling the heat intensify as the nurse closest to him continued to stare. He wouldn’t have felt so foolish if the others hadn’t been there. Oh well, it wasn’t the last mistake he’d make in his lifetime. “I’ll get it right next time. I came to tell you I’m cutting today. I need to drive through the compound to get to my field. I didn’t want to scare the kids.”

  The gal to his side went back to filing and the teenager had lost interest a while back. With the pressure off, Zac squared his attention back on Jen. “You have a PA system around here to warn them?”

  Jen glanced at her watch and frowned. “It’s ten o’clock. I thought you hit the fields at the crack of dawn?”

  “The hay was too wet. You’ve got to wait until the sun rises and warms before you can cut this late in the season.” At her continued frown, he understood her confusion. “You better research that and put it in your report for the loan. It’ll help your cas
e if the committee thinks you know what you’re doing.”

  Her smile faded. “I do know what I’m doing.”

  “I know that,” he said, suddenly missing the banter. “But you’ve got to convince them of it if you have any hope of getting your loan.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you helping me?”

  Good question. She’d blindsided him with the news of their child and his emotions still churned over her deception. Now this child was sick and she had to turn to him for help. His gut clenched at the realization that Jen saw him as a screw up, just like all the rest of the town. She hadn’t even given him a chance to do the right thing all those years ago.

  “Zac? Don’t think too hard about it. I don’t need your help.” Crossing her arms, she struck a stance. “Can’t you drive around the property and enter through the other gates?”

  Her curt words cut through his fog. Of course she didn’t need his help. She never had. He’d just been fool enough to never notice. “I need to get to work,” he ground out. If he shared his real opinion of their situation, he’d only be inviting censure. Right now, he was in a lose-lose situation. He indicated the door. “Last time I looked, Jess Eklund still owned this property. He said “cut hay” so I’m cutting hay, and doing it as cost effectively as I can. I just stopped by to warn you about the equipment.”

  Her brows drew together tightly. He recognized that look and knew he hadn’t had the last word in this matter. She slipped around him and took off at a good clip across the driveway toward the barn. Zac turned toward the equipment shed and crossed the grounds with long strides. Why had he bothered telling her in the first place? He should have just driven through the compound and let the staff run after the kids. She was probably headed over to cry on her camp minion’s shoulder and tell him how mean the cowboy brute had been to her. What was was the guy’s name? Zac frowned as he grabbed the door handle and opened the cab of the swather. Patrick? Patrick. That sounded right. He turned on the engine and shifted into gear. Easing off the clutch, he steered the machine around the health clinic and toward the barn. Patrick. Why did he care who she turned to? Whatever was between Zac and Jen at one time was now ancient history.

  Except for the child. His child. The child she gave away without even telling him.

  The sole of his boot kept the accelerator steady even as Zac fought the urge to gun the engine. Nothing would have brought greater satisfaction to him than ripping through the compound at full speed to put the entire scene behind him. He palmed the shift knob and reduced his speed as he drew closer to the open area by the playground. No sense in injuring innocent kids just to placate his mood.

  As he rolled closer he saw Jen coming out of the barn with a child on either side of her. Behind her followed another dozen kids of varying ages and heights. What had she done? Rallied the troops to support her cause? Which one would throw the first stone? All of them waved as he drove up. His senses came alive as he slowed to a crawl, careful not to hit any of the children. If her plan was to send him to prison for hit-and-run so he wouldn’t mess up her plans, she’d brainstormed the wrong idea.

  He stopped and opened the door. “I told you I was coming through.”

  She gave him the universal sign to cut the engine as she nodded. He turned the key and the noise died. More kids swarmed out of the barn.

  “Gather round, kids. This is Mr. Zac. He’s here to cut the hay in the fields.” Her smile tightened as she turned toward the children. “Have any of you ever seen a tractor?”

  The kids stared wide-eyed, all of them shaking their heads. Zac knew what a goldfish felt like. The children who around him displayed varying stages of cancer recovery. A couple children had lost their hair; a few wore hats and gloves to protect their skin from the sun; one little girl huddled within the warm folds of a puffy down coat while another clutched the edges of her sweater together as if her life depended on it. He glanced over the crowd of children who had gone through a medical war and emerged on the other side.

  “People come to the mountains to ski and hike and camp. It’s beautiful up here for vacations and camps, right?”

  “Right!” The kids answered as one voice, laughing and jumping up and down.

  Jen raised her hand and the group went quiet. “God blessed this land to raise crops, too. Our growing season is much shorter than the plains, but we harvest hay and grains, too. Mr. Zac is going to cut hay so we have food for our horses and cattle this winter. He’s going to drive through here over the next couple of weeks on different equipment to get his job done while we enjoy camp. He’s going to keep an eye out for you, but we have to be careful not to get in his way.”

  “Mr. Zac?” A little girl with cast on her forearm waved from the back. “Can we have a ride?”

  The kids all stared at him, eager smiles ranging from timid to rarin’-to-go. What was protocol for something like this? He stared at a nightmare liability case if anyone got hurt.

  Jen held up her hand again and the group went quiet. “This camp session is the last one of the year because the days are getting short and the nights are colder. Mr. Zac has a lot of work to do before the snow falls. The sooner he gets done, the better.” She angled her chin toward him with a hesitant smile. “Let’s pray that he gets his work done in time, and maybe he’ll have time to visit with us.”

  “Are you a real cowboy, Mr. Zac?” The little girl at the back had moved to the front. Her soft blonde curls clouded around her face. “Where’s your cowboy hat?”

  He preferred a ball cap. It was cooler in the summer than a hat. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  A bright pink colored her cheeks. “Amy.”

  “Well, Amy, when I’m driving a tractor with a cab, a hat gets in the way. I wear my cowboy hat when I ride my horse.”

  “We have horses here,” — she turned and looked at Jen — “don’t we, Miss Jennifer?”

  Jen placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder and gave her a hug. “Yes, we do, Amy. Maybe when Mr. Zac is finished in the fields, he’ll come ride with us.”

  “Would you, Mr. Zac?”

  Zac caught Jen’s gaze, the sweet softness in her blue eyes taking him back years to the time they’d played at the Trails’ End. They’d ridden horses, chased around the hay bales, and kissed in the shadows like the summer would never end. The whole time, she made him feel special.

  “Mr. Zac?” Amy stared expectantly as did the rest of the kids.

  The memory faded but the warmth in his heart remained. He nodded. “I know some roping tricks, too.”

  * * *

  “This is ridiculous. He’s driving farm equipment through the camp, working strange hours, interrupting our activities.” Jen paced across the hard wood floor, turning at the elk mount above the oak bookcase and retracing her steps. “It’s like he wants to destroy everything I’ve worked for and ruin what we’re trying to do for the kids.”

  “Sit down before you hurt yourself.” Trevor Hockett caught her by the shoulders and directed her to the club chair. He held on until she sank into the plush cushion. “Now, take a breath and douse the steam rising from your collar. Start again and tell me who he is.”

  Jen sat on the edge of the chair and crossed her legs. She managed a breath, but there was nothing deep about it. “Zac Davidson is running equipment across the compound at all times during the day. He goes from one field to another and each time I stop him, he tells me he’s being economical. He doesn’t want to waste gas and time.”

  “I can’t believe Zac is putting the kids at risk like that.” Trevor hiked a hip on the edge of his mahogany desk. Settling his chin in his palm, he tapped his finger along his jaw. “He’s pretty ruthless in business deals, but I never thought he’d put a child in danger.”

  Her conscience slapped her. “He’s not really putting the kids in danger. He stops by the rec center and tells us ahead of time that he’s coming through so we can keep the kids out of the way.”

  “So he’s not a hazard.” He lo
wered his hand to the desk and leaned toward her. “What’s the problem?”

  Nothing…Everything. “He’s a big, huge, irritating distraction, Trevor. We’re trying to play soccer games, coach archery, play games outside while the temps are warm, and he’s running haying equipment just past the trees. Can’t he wait until this final camp session is over?”

  Dressed in jeans and a white button down shirt, Trevor exuded the cowboy mystique with a lawyer’s logic. He sat there staring at her as her face warmed, his booted foot swinging back and forth from the edge of the desk. Jen had never seen Trevor in action in the courtroom, but from the way he weighed his speculation of her reasons, she knew his defense would be nothing short of killer.

  “Jen, pull your head out of the barn and think about what you’re saying. Our days are short; the nights are chilly and longer.” He ticked off the reasons on his fingers. “Time is running out on the harvest. He has to cut and bale while the weather permits.”

  “But we haven’t heard any of the equipment while Splint and Max were working.” She pointed out, defending her ire. “They worked at the other end of the property. We didn’t even know they were there.”

  Trevor laid a look on her. “With our growing season upt here, you cut fields once. If the guys cut and baled the far fields already, the ones left are the plots closer to the ranch house and the camp. Jen, Zac can only harvest what’s left to harvest. If you haven’t figured out the basics of farming, your business plan is going to sink.”

  Understanding dawned through her anger. Max had told her they’d try not to disrupt her camp session a couple of weeks ago, and she’d barely realized they’d been running equipment. Of course, they started in the far fields. Her palm itched to smack herself upside the head. Still, understanding the problem didn’t make her feel better. She wasn’t ready to concede. “This session is not giving the campers the full wilderness experience.”