by Gina Wilkins
For a guy who’d had his share of hard luck, he’d been extremely fortunate to have had the Walkers and the McDooleys in his life, he mused.
Speaking of boys who had been lucky enough to come into this family…
Kyle looked around as Memo Perez ushered the four foster boys out of the dormitory. “You got things for this crew to do, Shane?” Memo called out.
Shane grinned. “Always.”
As the boys groaned, Shane turned to Kyle. “Kyle, meet the gang. Jacob, Colin, Elias and Emilio.” He pointed to a gangly fifteen-ish redhead, a chubby towhead about the same age and a pair of dark-haired, dark-eyed boys who were obviously brothers, the older perhaps seventeen, the other five or six years younger. “Guys, meet Kyle Reeves. He lived here for a while when he was a teenager.”
“You was a foster kid?” the towhead, Colin, asked. Kyle nodded. “I was here for just over a year when
I was seventeen. I left after I finished high school.”
“They make you muck out stalls?” Elias asked, his lip curling.
“Every afternoon. Can’t say it was my favorite chore, but I lived through it.”
“How’d you get that scar on your face?” Emilio, the youngest boy, inquired.
“Emilio, that’s not polite,” Memo chided with an apologetic frown toward Kyle.
Kyle shrugged. “It’s okay. I was wounded overseas by a roadside bomb. I was in the Marines.”
All four boys looked at him with widened eyes, obviously intrigued by meeting someone with such an adventurous past. The scar, rather than an oddity, had now become a mark of heroism to them. Because he wasn’t comfortable with the image of himself as a war hero, Kyle turned abruptly to Shane. “I’m getting pretty thirsty. If you don’t need me for anything else right now, I’ll go inside for a while.”
“Yeah, go sit and relax for a bit,” Shane encouraged him. “We’ve put in a hard afternoon.”
Kyle hoped he had worked hard enough that he would be able to sleep that night. Alone. Without spending hours lying in his bed aching to go to Molly.
But then again, he didn’t think it was possible to work himself to that point.
Late that afternoon, Shane insisted that Kyle should get on a horse. “Can’t have you turning into a city boy,” he said with a laugh, leading a glossy, brown, saddled gelding around the end of the barn while Molly and Kelly watched. “Jump on. Bodie here needs some exercise.”
Kyle made a face. “It’s been three years since I was on a horse, and I was in much better shape then,” he demurred. “I’ll probably fall right into the dirt.”
“Nah. It’s like riding a bike. You never forget.” Grinning, Shane motioned toward the stirrups. “C’mon, Kyle, it’s not like I’m asking you to rope a calf or race to the back property line. Just ride around the yard here. Show me that you remember everything I taught you when you were a skinny, funny-looking kid. Rather than the skinny, funny-looking guy you are now,” he added, mischievously.
Molly was pleased that Kyle chuckled in response to Shane’s cheerful put-down. Though he cautiously approached the right side of the patiently waiting horse, he still seemed concerned about climbing on. “No laughing if I fall on my butt,” he warned Molly.
She grinned. “Sorry, greenhorn. No promises from me on that count.”
For all his protests, Kyle wasn’t nearly as rusty as he’d feared. Placing his right foot into the stirrup, he swung himself into the saddle almost as easily as if it were something he did everyday. Once again, Molly was struck by how gracefully he moved, despite his physical limitations. She wished she could better remember what he’d been like as a teenager. Had he always been so well coordinated, or had that developed during his rehabilitation?
“Not bad,” Shane approved. “Careful, though. Tennis shoes aren’t made for stirrups, the way boots are.”
Kyle nodded and wheeled Bodie around to trot briskly around the perimeter of the big yard. He looked as though he enjoyed being on horseback again.
Molly looked down regretfully at her brace and crutches, wishing she could join him for a nice, long ride. By the time she got rid of these things, he would be gone, and there would be no chance to ride with him, she thought wistfully, her chest aching with the thought.
“Wow,” Kelly murmured, moving close to Molly’s side. “He looks good up there, doesn’t he? I guess I’m just now realizing how attractive he really is, once he relaxes and lets himself smile.”
“Yes, he is nice looking.” Molly tried to speak casually, but the look her sister-in-law gave her said she hadn’t done a very good job of it.
“Yeah, right,” Kelly said with a sudden, wicked smile. “Like you’ve hardly noticed in the past few days.”
“Haven’t noticed what?” Shane asked, joining them just in time to hear the last few words.
“Nothing that’s any of your business,” Kelly shot back, playfully punching his arm.
“Where are the girls?” he asked, looking around for his daughters. “I thought they wanted to ride before dinner.”
“Last I saw, they were playing a video game with Emilio. I’ll go get them.”
Kelly turned and walked away. Shane and Molly both looked at Kyle again. Perhaps Shane was still remembering the boy he’d known in the past—but Molly was much more interested in the devastatingly sexy man she saw in the present. Now if only she could do a better job of hiding that reaction from her much-too-perceptive older brother than she had with his equally observant wife.
Chapter Twelve
Molly spent an hour in the dormitory before dinner that evening, catching up with the boys, reviewing their schoolwork, working with Colin on a math assignment and with Emilio on a reading assignment he was finding particularly difficult. Afterward, while the boys ate in the dormitory dining room—delicious, healthy food prepared fresh in the dorm kitchen by Graciela—Molly and Kyle dined with Shane, Kelly, Annie and Lucy.
Kyle was quietly courteous during dinner, responding politely to conversation, and watching the girls with a cautious fascination that Molly found amusing. It was obvious that he hadn’t spent much time with children.
She had a vague memory of him looking at her much the same way all those years ago.
He walked her back to the main house after dinner. “Kelly’s a good cook,” he said, making small talk as they moved slowly down the pathway between the two houses. “I enjoyed the dinner.”
“She likes to cook almost as much as Mom does. Which is why Shane’s always fussing about having to watch his weight—not that he ever slows down enough to have to worry about calories,” she added.
“It felt strange to be on horseback again. I guess you’ll be glad when you can ditch those crutches and get back into the saddle. Shane showed me your mare. She’s a pretty one.”
“She’s a sweetheart. And yes, I will be glad to get rid of these things—for lots of reasons.”
Kyle reached for the back door, pushing it open to allow her to precede him inside. “Do you still ride in horse shows and things?” he asked, following her into the kitchen. “I seem to remember you having a bunch of trophies and ribbons even when you were just a little kid.”
“I rode through high school, but I stopped competing when I left for college. I just didn’t have the time for it anymore.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Not really. It was fun when I was a kid, gave me something to do to keep me out of trouble, but now I just enjoy riding for pleasure.”
“I see.” Without quite looking at her, he put a hand to the back of his neck, squeezing as if the muscles there were tight. “I guess I’ll turn in early tonight. I’ve used muscles today I’d almost forgotten I had. Think I’ll take a hot bath, read for a while, then get some sleep.”
A little startled, she blinked. “Oh. Okay—is there anything you need before you go upstairs?”
“Nope. But thanks, anyway. See you in the morning.”
He could move surprisingly fast when he wanted to,
she thought moments later, when she stood alone in the kitchen staring at the place where he had been.
He hadn’t even kissed her good-night.
She tried not to take his desertion too personally. He probably was tired, she told herself. She had seen for herself how much he and Shane had accomplished that day. He seemed to have been limping a bit worse than usual as they’d made the short walk from Shane’s house, though of course she had known better than to comment.
Yet, as much as she tried to rationalize, she knew weariness had little to do with him bailing out on her so early. Obviously, Kyle had simply had too much “togetherness” for one day. Too many reminders of the past. Too much evidence, perhaps, that Molly’s life was still very different from his own.
All she could do, she thought with a wistful sigh, was to give him the space he needed. And if he didn’t come close to her again before he ran back to Tennessee… well, she could deal with that, too.
Kyle sat sprawled in one of the spring rockers on the back patio, idly watching a cow and her calf eating grass in the distance. A glass of lemonade rested on a small iron table beside him; Kelly had actually squeezed fresh lemons to make it for him.
These people were unbelievable.
It was Thursday afternoon, and it was the first time since he’d arrived at the ranch that he’d been alone outside his bedroom. He’d spent Wednesday finishing the outdoor kitchen with Shane, both of them working until they were too tired to do more than grunt during the dinner they shared with Molly, Kelly and the girls. After ward, Kyle had locked himself in his bedroom, relieved that the physical exertion had exhausted him enough to sleep through the night without waking.
Hard work, he had discovered, was better than a cold shower when it came to avoiding any further intimate contact with Molly. As much as he still wanted her, he had decided there would be no more late-night visits to her bedroom. It didn’t seem right, somehow, to violate Shane’s trust—not to mention that Jared would absolutely hate it. And besides, it wasn’t as if anything would come of it, since he would be leaving in a few days and might never see Molly Walker—or any of her family—again, he reminded himself with a hard, rather painful swallow.
Shane had driven Molly to Dallas that afternoon to see her cousin’s husband, the orthopedic doctor. They hadn’t yet returned. Kelly had gone shopping with the girls after school, and Memo had the boys doing their chores.
Having declined Shane and Molly’s invitation to accompany them to Dallas, Kyle had taken advantage of the peace and quiet to rest and regroup. He’d needed this time to brace himself for the rest of his visit, he thought, though he wasn’t sure it was possible to fully prepare himself for the upcoming party.
A shuffling sound from behind him caught his attention, and he turned his head to investigate. The lanky redheaded kid, fifteen-year-old Jacob Hayes, had just stepped around the corner of the house. He hesitated when he saw Kyle, then moved tentatively forward. “Hi.”
“Hi. Finished with your chores?”
Jacob nodded. “Memo said we could entertain our selves for a while before dinner. The other guys are playing video games.”
“You don’t like video games?”
“I just wanted some quiet. They get kind of loud sometimes. And Elias and Emilio always end up fighting. I guess brothers do that a lot.”
Kyle chuckled. “I need quiet time, myself, every once in a while. You want some lemonade?”
Jacob’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, sure.”
Pushing himself to his feet, Kyle motioned toward a chair. “Sit down. I’ll be right back.”
He returned carrying a glass of lemonade for Jacob and a handful of cookies for both of them. He wasn’t sure what the rules were on predinner snacking, but as skinny as this kid was, he didn’t figure a couple of Oreo cookies would do any permanent damage.
“Thanks.” The boy accepted the snack with the eagerness of the average hungry teenager.
“If this is against the rules, you were never here.”
Jacob grinned. “Gotcha.” He twisted a cookie apart and licked the filling.
Kyle took a bite of his own cookie and washed it down with a swallow of tangy lemonade. He hadn’t asked why any of the boys had been placed here at the ranch, but he was pretty sure Jacob was the one with the abusive, alcoholic father. Which probably explained the boy’s noticeable nervous twitches, he thought sympathetically.
“How do you like it here on the ranch?” he asked the boy, feeling the need to initiate some sort of conversation.
Jacob shrugged. “It’s not so bad. Graciela’s a good cook. Cassie makes cookies for us sometimes. Shane talks tough, but he’s pretty easygoing, really.”
“What about the others?”
“Memo and Jared don’t say much, but everyone knows you better listen when they do. We’re not scared of them or anything,” he added quickly, “it’s just…”
“You don’t like disappointing them.” Kyle remembered the hollow feeling he’d get after he’d broken some house rule and Jared had given him the look that said he’d expected better. Earning a smile or an approving pat on the shoulder from Jared Walker had been a heady reward for a kid who practically idolized the taciturn cowboy. He wouldn’t be surprised if all the foster boys came to feel that way about Jared.
“And Molly?” he asked, thinking of the one family member Jacob hadn’t yet mentioned.
Jacob rolled his eyes. “I know she’s your girlfriend and all, but she’s a real pain when it comes to schoolwork. I mean, we all like her, but sometimes we’re just not in the mood for homework and stuff. Other guys at school blow off their homework all the time, but we’ve always got to turn ours in, even if there’s a good TV show or a ball game or something on. Elias calls her the homework tyrant.”
It took Kyle a few moments to catch up, since his brain had sort of frozen in response to Jacob’s opening comment. “First, Molly’s not my ’girlfriend,’ she’s just an old friend from when I lived here myself. As for the schoolwork, I know you think it isn’t important, but it is. Those other guys blowing off their homework and thinking they’re too cool to study? Check with them in ten years when you’ve made something of yourself and they’re still asking, ’Do you want fries with that?’”
Jacob sighed. “That’s the kind of thing Jared’s always saying.”
Kyle chuckled. “Where do you think I learned it?”
The boy munched another cookie, took a sip of lemonade, then asked, “So what was your story? How’d you end up here?”
Kyle didn’t take offense at the question, since he had initiated the conversation, but he wasn’t fond of talking about his past. He answered without embellishment, “My single mom got sick and couldn’t take care of me. She died while I was in my second foster home, before I came here.”
“My mom ran off a few years back,” Jacob murmured, gazing down into his lemonade with another twitch of his facial muscles. “She got tired of my dad yelling at her and hitting her—and I guess she got tired of me, too, since she didn’t take me with her.”
Kyle knew how much it hurt to be abandoned by a mother—his own had pretty much turned her back on him even before she’d gotten sick. But because he knew that a kid needed something positive to hold on to, he said, “Maybe she wanted to take you with her, but she didn’t think she could take care of you.”
Obviously, it wasn’t the first time Jacob had been offered something along those lines. “Yeah. Maybe.”
“You’ve had a tough time, and it isn’t fair that you had to go through it,” Kyle said bluntly, remembering what he’d heard about the boy’s father. “Still, you should consider yourself lucky that you ended up here. Take advantage of what you’ve found here, okay? Let the Walkers show you how to stay on the right path, so you don’t end up making the same mistakes your parents made.”
“Were you lucky to be here?”
“You bet. The other homes I was placed in—well, they didn’t work out. I was starting to get really
bitter, thinking maybe no one in the world cared about me—and then I came here.”
Jacob nodded. “That’s the way I was at the other home. I didn’t like the people there, and I don’t think they liked me much, either. It didn’t help that my dad kept showing up and making trouble for them. They hated that. But Jared said he could handle it.”
“He can handle it.” All these years later, Kyle still tended to believe that Jared Walker could pretty much handle anything.
“Yeah. Even though Jared’s older than my dad, he stays in real good shape. I’m pretty sure he could take him.”
“I don’t think it will come to that. But you can feel safe here.”
Jacob seemed to sink a bit more deeply into his chair. “He was here a few days ago. My dad. They don’t think I know, but I heard him yelling and I looked out the window. I heard him say he’d be back.”
Which only proved that Kyle’s gut instinct had been right this time. Someone should have talked to the boy after his father’s appearance, rather than letting him struggle alone with his fears. “Shane didn’t know you saw them,” he tried to explain. “He thought it would upset you if you found out. He was trying to protect you.”
“I know. But Shane doesn’t know my dad like I do. Shane’s too nice to everyone—too easygoing, you know? I’m—” He stopped short of admitting that he was afraid.
Kyle didn’t allow that evasion. “You’re afraid your father will hurt Shane. Or yourself. Or someone else here on the ranch.”
Jacob nodded miserably, his knuckles white around his lemonade glass. “Maybe you could warn them to be careful? I mean, you were, like, a marine and you went to war. Even if you got blown up and now you limp and all, you know about things like not underestimating your enemy and being prepared and stuff, right?”
Suddenly feeling much older than twenty-nine, Kyle pushed a hand through his hair with a deep sigh. What he had learned was that no one could ever be fully prepared for everything life could throw at you. That the most carefully mapped-out plans could disintegrate in an instant. And that people you had come to rely on and care about could be taken away in a heartbeat.