by Jade Taylor
Carefully, Cat pushed away from her own jealousy. She’d never be anything but what she was; a too-tall country girl with a passable face, a so-so figure and the saving grace of nice hair. Cat stood up to greet her guests, feeling the comforting warmth of Jackson’s body between her and Joey.
“Rebeka, Burt…it’s so nice to see you again. How was your trip?”
Burt’s serious gaze turned her way. Brown hair, metal-rimmed amber sunglasses and a very ordinary face topped a lanky body a hair’s breadth away from being too thin. Dressed casually in designer jeans, western boots and a light green short-sleeved shirt, he presented anything but an awesome figure. How, Cat wondered, had Rebeka managed to give up Jackson for Burt Palmer? Did Burt’s money make up for losing the best-looking boy in Traill County?
“Great trip, Cat! We brought an empty two-horse trailer, so I hope you can fill it for us. Luke tells me that new colt of yours is something special. Is that right?”
Cat tried to ignore the interest on Rebeka’s face as her gaze slipped from Jackson to Joey. Maybe Luke told her, she thought. That’s good, isn’t it? An apprehensive chill went through her body as she watched Rebeka step forward eagerly and throw her arms around Jackson.
A full moment passed before she released him. Stepping back, she looked him over slowly, a faint smile on her lips. “You crazy redhead! You finally came back to Engerville. That’s wonderful! I’ve missed you. How long has it been? How’s your father?”
Jackson’s wide grin spilled over onto Burt and Luke, but its main force landed on his high school flame. “Hi, Rebeka. You haven’t changed a bit! Pop is much better, thanks. I’ll tell him you asked after him.” He glanced at the man who waited. “Introduce me to your husband. I’ve never met him, although Cat’s filled me in on everybody.”
Rebeka glanced at Cat, smiled briefly and nodded. She turned to her husband. “Burt, this is Jackson Gray. Jackson, my husband, Burt Palmer.”
The two men shook hands. Obviously, Burt knew who Jackson was. Or who he used to be. Burt and Jackson eyed each other, Cat thought, like a couple of strange dogs. Truly idiotic. With that rather disjointed thought, she said, “If you guys want to walk down to the corral, I’ll bring out RugRat.”
“You go down to the corral with them, Cat. I’ll get the horse,” Jackson suggested.
“Okay. Thanks. Come on, everyone.” She tried to inject enthusiasm into her voice. A lot depended on Rebeka and Burt liking RugRat. The farm, Joey’s security and her own peace of mind. It made sense to pretend enjoyment at their visit.
The adults found perches on the top rail, while Joey and Tommy Karl waited to open the gate for Jackson. A few minutes later, he appeared, riding RugRat. Looking, Cat thought, better than any movie star cowboy she’d ever seen. She drew in a deep breath of dusty air, wondering if Jackson had the same effect on Rebeka. Carefully, she tried to avoid a telltale glance at the blonde, but her gaze flickered toward the other woman. Too quickly, Cat hoped, for her to notice.
Rebeka’s dark sunglasses hid her eyes, but her attention never wavered from the redhead sitting comfortably atop RugRat, who chose to prance and paw as if he’d never heard of a saddle. The young horse sidestepped and sidled his way through a couple of circuits around the corral. Cat’s heart sank. Why did RugRat have to pick today to misbehave?
Jackson brought RugRat back to where they sat and slid down from his back. In the short-sleeved royal blue shirt and tight jeans, with the sun turning his copper curls to light-blasted gold, he looked stunning.
Rebeka glanced quickly from Cat to Jackson. Luke frowned. Burt Palmer seemed totally oblivious to the byplay. He walked over to RugRat and took the colt’s bridle from Jackson. Running one hand appreciatively down the bay’s strong neck, he soothed the horse with a humming sound. RugRat quieted under his experienced touch.
“He’s a smart-looking fella. Real strong hindquarters and beautiful legs. I can see why you think he’d make a hunter, Cat. What’s the mix?”
“Half and half,” Cat replied. “He’s out of Cleopatra, a quarter horse from South Dakota.”
Burt nodded. “I know of her. She’s got good blood-lines by way of Dakota King. Who’s his sire?”
“Raggedy Jack Spratt. He raced for a while at Canterbury Downs before being retired to stud. He’s thrown some good-looking colts and Dad felt RugRat might be his best.”
“He looks like a prospect, if he only had some manners,” Burt said, his hand running down the colt’s near leg, massaging the sinews and tendons. He turned, put one foot in the stirrup and mounted with a light spring. Guiding the young horse close to the rail, he put RugRat through his paces. First, he walked the horse, then trotted him several times around the ring. Finally, he pushed the colt to canter.
RugRat behaved much better under Burt’s experienced hand than he had for Jackson, Cat realized. Her spirits rose. Burt’s lean frame blended well with the young horse. After several circuits at a restrained canter, Burt put him through a series of figure eights and cloverleafs. When he brought RugRat back to the gate, the young horse’s playfulness had disappeared. He stood quietly, with a sheen of perspiration wetting his shoulders and flanks. Burt dismounted and stood beside him, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“Not bad, Cat. Not bad at all. He’s got great moves, very athletic.”
“I like him. He’s green, but he looks like a natural-born jumper,” Rebeka agreed, her gaze finally having left Jackson and settled on the colt. “Can you see him at the Virginia Meet, Burt?”
“I’m not nearly as good a rider as you, Burt, but I’ll be around to school him for a couple of weeks,” Jackson offered. “He just needs someone to lay down the law to him and give him a few more hours under a saddle.”
Burt nodded. “Any horse can act silly when they feel like it, so I won’t judge him by today. If he’s looking better in a couple weeks, we’ll buy him and take him back to Virginia. I don’t intend to green-break a horse, Cat. You know how I feel about that.” He turned to Jackson. “A young half-trained stud nearly killed my wife. We’d been told the horse was ready to ride.”
Jackson looked at Rebeka, shocked.
Rebeka’s lips twisted in a sarcastic smile. “Not me, Jackson. His first wife.”
Burt barely nodded. His long face reflected nothing, Cat noticed. Whatever he thought, he kept carefully hidden when he replied.
“Sorry, Beka. I should have said my ex-wife.”
“That’s right, honey. Your ex-wife. You do tend to forget.”
You could slice the tension with a knife, Cat thought, and it didn’t have to be very sharp. She hastened to break it up. “I have a nice three-year-old for you to look at, too, Burt. Windjammer’s not the same quality as RugRat, but he’s got some points of his own. He’s not nearly the featherhead that RugRat can be, though he’s younger.”
Burt’s interest shifted immediately. “Right. Let’s do that. Coming, Luke?”
“Right behind you,” Luke said. He shot a swift glance at Cat.
“Windjammer isn’t far enough along for you to take him this time, but next year he’s going to be a sweet buy for somebody.”
Rebeka nodded. Her interest clearly lay on Jackson and the bay horse he led.
In the barn, Cat escorted the party down the narrow hallway, naming each horse as she came to its stall. Windjammer, first, then Freedom, Apache and Simba. Moonshot had been put in the pasture earlier. Officially Joey’s horse, now that Jackson had bought and paid for her, Joey had been quick to point out that she didn’t want the Palmers to think her horse was on the sale block, too. Amused, Cat had agreed.
Rebeka loved the yearling, Simba, at first sight. “He’s an absolute darling. Burt, look at those feet! He could pick his way through a field of daises without crushing one.”
“He’d eat most of them,” Joey pointed out.
Everyone laughed.
Burt Palmer, his sunglasses in his hand, nodded in agreement. “RugRat’s a maybe, Cat, if we can agree on a
price, but Simba is a definite yes. I think we’ll take a flyer on Windjammer, too. I know a certain overweight lady in Baltimore who would love to have a jumper strong enough to carry her. One who looks like Windjammer will be an easy sale. We’ll take Windjammer with us. I’ll get Robbie Stuart to finish him, but you’ll have to hang on to Simba for us. Maybe next summer we can haul him back home, too. Rebeka, you’ll have to find someone to train him. I won’t have you on a green horse.”
“He’s not green. He’s black,” Tommy Karl contributed, knowing full well what the term meant.
Luke frowned. Everyone else smiled indulgently. Burt elbowed Luke. “Lighten up,” he advised.
Rebeka turned to her husband. “Call that real estate agent again, Burt. I’m more anxious than ever to find a summer place around here. We wouldn’t have to worry about where to keep the horses that aren’t quite ready.”
He nodded. “I’ll give him a ring as soon as we get home. Maybe he’ll have found something by now.”
Did Rebeka want to move back to Engerville so she’d be closer to Jackson? The thought unsettled Cat, although she knew in her heart that Jackson wouldn’t be here for long. Rebeka didn’t know that. “Let’s have a cup of coffee, Burt, and we can settle the paperwork,” she suggested.
“You guys go ahead,” Jackson said. “I’ll give RugRat a quick rubdown and brush out the saddle marks.”
“Go on and do your paperwork thing,” Rebeka said to her husband. “I’ll stay with Jackson for a few minutes and get caught up on old times.”
Burt nodded. Cat felt her stomach tie itself into a knot. Despite telling herself not to be a total fool, she didn’t want to leave Jackson alone in the barn with Rebeka.
Joey looked at her mother, then at Rebeka. A mutinous expression crossed her face before she stepped casually between Rebeka and Jackson. “Mom, can I stay here and help Daddy?” Joey asked.
“Daddy?” Rebeka echoed.
Burt looked startled and Luke’s glare darkened. Jackson glanced at his daughter with the same surprise everyone else showed. Only Tommy Karl appeared indifferent to the pronouncement. He was engaged in holding a hand as close as possible to Simba’s dark ears, so he could watch her twitch them away from his exploring fingers.
Naked jealousy motivated Joey’s proprietary claim on her father. How like her daughter to pick now to give Jackson his proper title! Cat struggled to control the unguarded blush that warmed her cheeks.
Rebeka’s confusion sounded as if it might be colored with anger when she asked, “Jackson, how did this happen? I thought I had you on a string our senior year.”
Jackson’s lips tipped up in a bare smile. “You were mistaken,” he replied evenly. One hand settled on Joey’s shoulder. He looked at Cat, warm pride in his steady blue eyes.
“Let’s get that cup of coffee,” Cat said, putting as much enthusiasm in her voice as she could manage. “You come, too, Joey. You can get the cups for me.”
Joey’s face twisted in a pout, but she didn’t protest. As she joined her mother, however, she shot a dark look toward the woman who stayed behind.
Half an hour later, Cat had Burt, Luke and the two kids sitting on the front porch. The kids’ empty glasses were pushed aside as they whispered and giggled. There was an air of indulgence about Burt and Luke. Burt enjoyed the haggling over horse prices and obviously felt he’d done well. Perfectly happy to allow him to feel that way, Cat mentally tallied her profits and figured she could keep the farm going another year if Burt also bought Ruggie.
The barn door opening caught her attention. What had taken them so long? Cat wondered, as she saw Jackson and Rebeka emerge from the barn, heads close together, talking intimately of…what? How could Jackson not prefer the perfect Rebeka over her? Rebeka and Jackson had always looked good together. They turned heads wherever they went and both had a sense of humor that drew people to them. Did Jackson wish he’d tried harder to keep Rebeka?
As they neared the porch, Rebeka asked, “All through with the paperwork, Burt? Cat?”
He nodded, smiling. “Cat drives a hard bargain, but I wore her down. We won’t make a decision on RugRat right away, though. Give Jackson another couple of weeks to work with him and we’ll see if he deserves the price Cat put on his head. That’ll take some doing, I’ll tell you.”
“I definitely want him,” Rebeka said, flashing a defiant smile at Cat.
Did she mean RugRat or Jackson? Cat forced a cheerful grin. “Good. We’ll work him hard, so the next time you look at him, he’ll make a better impression.”
“Burt’s way too conservative. I can handle him the way he is now, but if it will make my loving husband feel better, see what you can do with him.” She turned to her husband. “I want him, Burt,” she warned. “I mean it. I haven’t been so impressed by a horse, since Miri Tatterson won the Virginia Meet on Candy Girl.”
Burt laughed, a harsh sound with no mirth. “Trust you to drive up the price on me.”
“You can afford it,” Rebeka answered, her voice high and tight.
Joey, no longer miffed at Jackson, hovered near him, shooting angry looks at Rebeka. Jackson, amused, kept a proprietary hand in hers, obviously enchanted with his daughter.
Burt stood up. “Are you ready to go, Luke? Nice meeting you, Jackson. Hate to rush, folks, but we have reservations for dinner in Fargo. Coming, Rebeka?”
Rebeka turned to Cat. “I’ll run over in a few days, Cat, and we can catch up on all the news. You must tell me how Jackson managed to fool me into believing I broke his heart when Burt and I got engaged.”
For a moment, Cat could think of absolutely nothing to say. Finally, she shrugged. “If there’s any doubt about his heart, broken or otherwise, you’ll have to ask Jackson, Rebeka. I wouldn’t presume to answer for him.”
Rebeka laughed. A low musical chuckle that sounded very high-society disdainful to Cat’s heightened perception.
“I’ll do that. Let’s go, fellas.” She marched toward the pickup, Luke, Burt and Tommy Karl trailing her like a string of baby ducklings.
Joey quit waving at the cloud of dust and announced that she was going to get Moonshot and put her in the barn.
Jackson waited until she left before he spoke. “I know you want to ask, Cat. Go ahead.”
She knew what he meant and knew she didn’t want to lie again, but it was still hard to put her insecurity in words. “I thought you and Rebeka took an awful long time in the barn.”
“And you’re wondering what we talked about?”
“No,” she said, giving a short laugh. “If you two only talked, then there’s nothing to wonder about.”
“What then? Say it, Cat. Let’s not leave anything between us that can be explained. I don’t want you doubting me.”
He stood close to her, but not touching. Hesitantly, she said, “I don’t doubt you. Not really, but you loved her once.”
He didn’t evade the question. “Not like I love you. Not even close.”
The words sounded so sincerely true and made so little difference. “She acted like she wanted to see if you still cared.”
Jackson sighed. “Did I act like I still cared?”
“I don’t know. I can’t tell what you’re thinking.” I can tell, she thought. He does love me and whether or not he does, it can’t matter.
“I can tell what I’m thinking and I can tell you this. I love you, Cat. Only you. Always.”
She looked away. He hadn’t given her any reason to doubt him. How could she explain that so many years of being alone left her with the firm belief that she’d always be alone. She wasn’t going to marry him. She couldn’t. And she wouldn’t have anyone else. Jackson deserved a life away from Engerville. He’d left the farm behind when he was eighteen. He’d never be happy here, and she wouldn’t watch him become depressed, made bitter by the life he led. Someday he’d look somewhere else for what she refused to give him. He had to or else her broken heart would never heal. “I know.”
“No, you don
’t. You took too long to answer. If you can doubt me so easily, you can’t know.” He pulled her into his arms. “I love you. I want to marry you. You and Joey mean more to me than anyone else in the entire world. I wouldn’t trade one of your kisses or one of Joey’s hugs for a thousand Rebekas.”
Cat pulled back so she could see his face. His promise was so sweetly said. “You mean that, don’t you?”
Instead of answering, he bent and touched her lips with his, lightly. Like static electricity, his touch sparked a rush of desire. His kiss deepened. She pressed closer. Close enough to know the truth of his words.
As if he had all day and half the night to finish, his lips lingered on hers, caressing, teasing, daring her to doubt him. She let herself sink into the sensations he aroused. Everything but his arms and lips disappeared as he pulled her closer into his embrace. Cat lost all sense of the world around her, wanting only to love him.
“What are you guys doing?”
Cat turned to see Joey staring up at them from the grass beside the porch steps.
Jackson looked over her shoulder at his small daughter.
Cat was the first to speak. “Uh, nothing, Joey. Did you get Moonshot put back in the barn okay?”
“Yeah, but what are you guys doing? You’re not supposed to kiss on the porch.”
Jackson grinned, refusing to let Cat step back from his embrace. “This is an exception to the usual rule, sweetheart. Your mom needed a little convincing, that’s all.”
“About the rule.”
“Yep. You got it.”
Joey shrugged and climbed up the steps to the porch. She walked around them, opened the screen door and just before she went into the house, she spoke over her shoulder, “I think she knows now.”
Jackson looked at Cat and grinned again. “Whaddaya say, Wild Cat? I have at least half an hour before it’s time to feed the horses. Are you convinced yet?”
“I think you managed to do the job.” Why was life so filled with hard decisions?
Jackson gave her a long, lingering look, then swatted her on the rump. “Don’t forget again. I don’t want to have to kiss you every time you have a few doubts.”