Zac pushed back his chair as Jennifer rose and shook the doctor’s hand. Prescott offered his hand to Zac. “We will be in touch when we have a better idea of the time frame. I trust the numbers you’ve given are direct contact numbers?”
He looked at Jen, meeting her relieved gaze with what appeared to be more confidence than he felt. “Connections are sketchy in the mountains. I’ve given you my direct line, but feel free to contact Jennifer at the ranch if you need to. I know her signals are stronger.” A tiny smile lifted the corner of her mouth as she nodded.
“Fine. Stop by the desk and sign the release forms for confidential information.” Dr. Prescott shuffled around the desk and clapped Zac on the shoulder. “Many people are registered for donation, but only 1 in approximately 50 actually follow through. Carli is fortunate to have such a close match for her transplant and that your antigen patterns match so closely. Please don’t dismiss how rare this is. Without being a sibling, hitting all the markers is truly a miracle. With our experienced team and a lot of prayer, Carli will be a normal little girl again before you know it.”
“Good to hear,” Zac said quietly as he shrugged on his jacket. He followed Jennifer out the door of the office and into the physician’s common waiting area.
“We can get the paperwork over here.” Jen tugged on his sleeve as she pointed to the station set up in the middle of the lobby area. “We’re almost done.”
“Hallelujah.” Through all the stress tests, the EKG, the blood drawing, he’d held up like a rock. Frankly, the tests weren’t much different than the physical Davidson Enterprises required him to take each year. It wasn’t until they sat down in Dr. Prescott’s office that the magnitude of what was going to happen smacked him. This was life and death…for another human being…his daughter. He rested his elbow on the counter of the nurses’ station while Jen explained what they needed. The stable, foot-wide surface was enough for him to grip and clear away the stars forming around his peripheral vision. Not very heroic to go fainting after the blood-letting was over.
“You okay?” Jen pressed her shoulder against his. “You’re looking a bit pale.”
The scent of her fruity shampoo competed with the smell of bleached counter tops. “I’m fine. I just want to get going.”
As he blinked for vision, he felt her hand slide within his jacket and rub his back. The simple familiar sensation tilted his world back on its axis. How many times in the past had Jen rubbed his back and chased away his anxiety or stress? Too many times to count.
And too disturbing to realize it still worked.
“You need to read this before you sign it.” Jen captured his attention as she patted his back before withdrawing her hand. She slipped a sheet of paper in front of him. “I don’t want to hear about your secrets without your knowing about it.”
“Fine one to talk.” He took the release and read every word. The verbiage gave Jennifer the right to his medical history, to be in on major decisions in his life — on his behalf, if necessary. He scrawled his signature at the bottom, brushing away the thought how strange there wasn’t another person he could think of whom he’d give such personal access to his life.
She took the paper and added her signature below his and slid the form back to the nurse. Linking her arm through his, she tugged him toward the glass doors leading to the parking lot. “I could say the same for you. C’mon, we’re done here. Let’s grab something to eat and go.”
* * *
She loved Zac’s old truck.
Sitting on the bench seat encased in a saddle-blanket seat cover, Jennifer smoothed her hand over the nubby fabric. Soft to the touch and frayed at the corners, the seat gave the entire cab a homey feeling. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Zac Davidson was known for doing some of his best living in his truck. From hunting to fishing to skiing, Zac lived life to the fullest and he used to drag her along kicking and screaming for the ride. Not that she really protested, she smirked to herself. Back then, she would’ve followed Zac anywhere.
The nostalgia of the truck caught her off guard. Zac made tons of money working for his family. He could’ve had any vehicle he wanted. Yet he chose to drive the twelve year old Ford truck he’d gotten brand new off the lot for high school graduation rather than trading in for new, two-year leases. She drew a breath, inhaling the ingrained smells of leather chaps, rifle barrel bluing, fleece-lined canvas jackets, and most recently, fast-food sub sandwiches. The touch, the smell, the tastes all evoked memories of that summer, teasing the edges of her mind until she brutally pushed them back. Drawing her splayed fingers into a fist, she sat up straighter and looked out the window onto the darkened highway leading home. Now was not the time to dredge up events that had gotten them here in the first place.
“What’s wrong?” Zac gave her the once-over and then returned his attention to the road. “Something spook you?”
Jen rubbed away the goosebumps on her arms. “Just a lot on my mind.”
“Yeah, today kicked my butt more than I want to admit.”
She let his misinterpretation slide. “I’ve pulled shifts for years and there were times I didn’t think I’d last more than a year or two. The work messed with my emotions so much. The couple of years I worked for my dad at the clinic in Hawk Ridge should have been a vacation for me. Instead, I found I missed the faster pace of working with families and staff. Go figure.”
Cars sped past them as the twilight deepened to dark. She tried to concentrate on snippets of the presentation she needed to make tomorrow, but the details played on the edge of her recall.
“You’ve just got a big heart for folks, Jen.”
Her loosely grasped facts and figures scattered. She looked over and caught sight of the firm line of his jaw as headlights from oncoming traffic sped by. She couldn’t tell if muscles bunched or if the shadows played with his rugged profile. “It’s just what I do.”
He met her gaze for a moment, the lines unmistakable beneath his dark lashes, yet the longing in his eyes capturing her heart. They’d had that connection once…a sharing of the mind and soul. A time when she thought she could never live without him.
“It’s who you are.” He turned his attention back to the road. “Are you sure you had enough to eat? We could’ve stopped somewhere and eaten instead of rushing back home.”
The moment — the connection between them — vanished so quickly, Jen wondered if she’d imagined it. No, she didn’t imagine it. His simple words ignited a yearning within her. One too dangerous to even consider pursuing. Zac not only posed a threat to her prospects of buying the Trails’ End, he posed a threat to her overall sanity. Moments ago, she’d blamed her emotional roller coaster on her work at the hospital. Her concern for her patients hadn’t held a candle to the puree of emotions he’d left her with.
“I really have to get back. I have a meeting tomorrow and still have prep work to do.” That was putting it mildly. All day she’d been mentally categorizing notes on the camp operation. She just hoped she’d be able to pull the supporting data on her presentation before nine o’clock tomorrow morning.
“With the bank? I thought my dad had looked over our figures. Didn’t he approve?”
She laughed. Really, didn’t the Davidsons ever talk to each other? “He approved. He told me he was going to run the figures by you to see if you approved of them.”
“Of course, I do. I put them together.”
She released a tired laugh. Why was Zac offended by his dad’s concern over her figures? Wasn’t he bidding on the property, too? Jen shook her head. Just like always, she hadn’t a clue what tree Zac was playing in. “Don’t be hard on your dad. He’s just happy we looked at the present day layout of the lateral ditches instead of the ones on record.” She stared ahead through the windshield. “I have a meeting with the Foundation tomorrow.”
“They want a tour of the gorgeous property they’re thinking of investing in?”
“No, to review my performance and evaluate my experience
.” She hesitated going down this road after the day they’d just had. “They’re not investing in the property. They’re investing in the program. I’m the one buying the ranch.”
He sat in silence as the traffic lessened and the highway curved into National Forest. The highway bumped and jostled until they eased over to the passing lane. “So, you could have your camp anywhere?”
Technically, yes. But that option wasn’t in her game plan. “No, it’s going to be at the Trails’ End. That’s where I want it.”
A few more moments of weighty silence hung between them. “Why?”
“Because that’s the way Arthur and I planned it. He knew Jess wanted the money off the land instead of treasuring it for the sake of family inheritance, you know, pass down through the family. Arthur knew I loved the heritage of it as much as he did. The last thing he wanted was the Trails’ End parceled off like a tract-home subdivision, which tends to be what developers do these days. Especially with the varied terrain of the ranch. The layout is great for my camp at the plateau just at the base of the mountain rise where we can hike and trail ride, and then I can use the income from the haying operation to help pay, if not pay entirely, the mortgage on the place.”
“Sounds like you have it all thought out in a nice, neat package, don’t you?” His clipped words hung in the air. “You have no idea how to bring your plans on paper to life in the real world.”
“Well, I’m going to have to learn how to manage a camp and acreage sometime, so I might as well learn on terrain I’m familiar with and live on a property with sentimental value.”
“Jen,” his voice softened. “Take it from me, just because the concept jibes on paper doesn’t mean the actual product is going to pan out.”
“Well now.” She fought to keep her hackles down. “I’ve just had the greatest minds in Hawk Ridge ranching industry instruct and review my business plan. Are you telling me the Davidson’s don’t know what they’re talking about? Or, did you skew my numbers?”
He released a sigh and stretched his fingers on the steering wheel before wrapping them back in place. “Jennifer, stop it. That’s not what I’m saying at all, and you know it. Look at what you’re getting yourself into, Jen. It’s you and you alone, right now looking at a potential harvest of twenty-four hundred acres. The Circle D can employ a hundred people if we need to, to get the job done.” He drew a sharp breath like a calm before the storm. “You’ve got the right plans…you may not have the power to pull it off.”
Didn’t he think she’d worried over that? “That’s where faith comes in. I never thought I’d get as far as I have with the camp, much less the bank actually considering my loan application. I’m on my knees every morning and night asking the Lord if this is His will, to help me navigate the trail. So far, I’ve seen miracles and experienced setbacks. When it’s all said and done, all I can say is I tried to listen to His leading.”
Oncoming headlights illuminated his hard jaw and set eyes. His lips parted on a puff of breath. “Sometimes in order to follow His leading, you have to let go.”
Jen dug her fingers into the saddle blanket fabric. “Zac, I know all about letting go.”
“You might know all about it, but are you ready accept the consequences?”
She didn’t have the energy left for this kind of mental gymnastics. Zac could talk circles around her when it came to finances and holdings. And he knew it. Lord, I don’t want to argue. Keep my words from evil and my eyes on You. As she folded her hands on her lap, a sense of peace and calm spread over her, as if God had been waiting for her surrender. She toed off her boots and tucked her feet beneath her on the seat. Shifting around, she settled up against Zac with her head on his shoulder as she’d always done. “I guess I’ll find out, won’t I?”
Moments passed as they drove along. Without a word, his arm tucked around her, his fingers wandering within the folds of her jacket, pressing her close, just like always. “I guess we will.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Mrs. Wells hadn’t aged a day in twelve years. Former Sunday School teacher and perpetual president of the Ladies’ Aid Guild, she held more love for the Lord in her sterling silver tea spoon than most people could claim in a bushel basket. He’d tumbled in fights with her boys and cheered on her daughters as they barrel raced in high school rodeo competitions. Now the boys ran her ranch and the girls had married, but still lived close to home. Something about small towns just made it tough to stay away.
He stood behind her in the church narthex as she greeted folks coming in the door. Rain or shine, she stood there with a smile making sure folks knew they were welcome. At a lull in the action, he tapped her on the shoulder. “Jon hasn’t run you bankrupt yet with his eye on the auctions, has he?”
Her face lit up as she turned around. Grasping his hand in her firm hold, she pulled him into a hug. Years melted away as she patted his shoulder like she had when he was a little boy.
She pulled back and held him at arms’ length. “Isaac, nice to see you again. Heard you’d come back for your brother’s wedding, but I never saw you.”
She waited for his answer with an expectant air. Zac searched for a non-cliché answer. He couldn’t find one. “All I can do is beg forgiveness. I’m back for longer now.”
“Humph, well, better to see you now than not at all.” She shook his hand with a grip to match any rancher. “Don’t you go leaving town again without stopping by the house and catching up.”
Forgiven. Zac relaxed with instant relief, the kind he didn’t even realize he’d been waiting for. The kind he wanted to bask in a while longer. Mrs. Wells had always been his champion, defending his rambunctious behavior to anyone who complained. She’d understood boys, an insight he appreciated to this day. “I’ll stop by this week since I’m not planning on leaving.”
Her gray eyes studied him before she urged him to go socialize. “Fine. Fine. Come over soon, we’ll talk then. My cookie jar is always full. Right now, I have people to invite into the house of God.”
He gave her a hug and then turned toward the crowd of people. Folks milled around greeting one another as they’d done for years. A few couples smiled and nodded. A slow warmth grew within him as he greeted friends he hadn’t seen in ages. Just like old times.
Funny how some things change and others…just don’t.
“Zac. It’s been a long time, my friend. Heard you’ve been harvesting up at the Eklund place.” Neal Stricher came up behind him with a cup of coffee in hand.
Zac shook hands and gave Neal a slap on the back. A few years older than Zac, Neal had been a worthy roping opponent. “Word travels, huh? Jess asked me to help out.”
“If I’d known that’s all it took to get you to come back to Hawk Ridge, I’d’ve asked you to bring in my hay a long time ago.” Neal cracked a familiar grin. He’d always been built slim; the years of hard ranching had made him solid. “Could’ve taken Cheryl and the kids on vacation.”
Zac laughed. “Didn’t think your place was for sale, too.”
“Trails’ End?” A strange look came over Neal. “I thought Jennifer was buying that for her camp.”
“She’s got first dibs.” He chose his words carefully. “I’m just here to catch crumbs if they fall.”
Neal didn’t appear to be satisfied. He took a quick sip from his Styrofoam coffee cup and pointed across the room. “She know this?”
Oh yeah. And making the most of every minute of it. He kept his grin in place. “Jen is in a fine position to buy the place, Neal. Like I said, I’m only here for back-up. Besides, I think the camp is great. I’ve stopped in a time or two.” The next words stuck on his tongue. “The camp counselor over there does a great job keeping the kids happy.”
Neal’s shoulders relaxed. “Glad you and Jennifer talk. When she left to go to school, we didn’t think she’d come back either. Glad she did.”
“I can’t agree with you more.” Zac listened for strains of organ music to signal the beginning of the servi
ce, but all he heard was Miss Eleanor talking about her summer pies and Jake Small bragging about the high school football team. He turned back to Neal. “Now, what’s new in your life?”
Neal went on to chat about his marriage to Cheryl Slaughter, his four kids and expanding cattle operation. Zac listened with half an ear. He found his attention straying to the ride home after his tests at the hospital. What happened there? One minute they were toasting up for a real contest of wills…and the next thing he knew, she was curled up at his side and he’d slung his arm around her. He’d had so much pent up frustration, he wanted to yell. Yet, when he felt her lean close and put her head on his shoulder, he couldn’t help but turn on their favorite country station, and kiss the top of her head.
Just thinking about the evening made his insides zing. He nodded at Neal as he scanned the crowd for Jennifer, but came up empty.
Instead, familiar arms wrapped him in a hug. “I’m so glad you joined us for church this morning, honey.” His mother gave him a squeeze then stepped back, keeping her hand on his arm. “Is Jennifer here, too?”
“I’ve only seen Doc O’Reilly.” He shook hands with his dad and indicated the back of the room. “Over by the music room.”
Martin glanced over Zac’s shoulder. “Sure enough. Doc O’Reilly’s already nabbed Melanie. Probably scolding her for being on her feet.”
Zac peeked over to the group. Doc had a concerned look on his face, Melanie smiled and nodded, Gabe frowned.
And Jen stood beside Melanie, her smile directed at him.
His heart picked up the pace as she broke away from the group and came toward them.
“Grace, Martin. Glad to see you.” She stepped up beside him and hooked her arm through his. “There really isn’t much room on your family pew with Melanie taking up enough room for a small family.” She laughed. “Want to sit with us?”
Second Chance Ranch (The Circle D series) Page 11