Horses whinnied from the barn, reminding Jenna that it was feeding time. She glanced in that direction, thinking of work that needed to be done, and how she’d rather be sitting on the front porch with her leg up and a glass of iced tea on the table next to her.
She loved her front porch with the ivy and clematis vines climbing the posts, drawing in bees and butterflies. She loved the scent of wild roses in the spring. Like now, caught on the breeze, the scent was sweet and brought back memories.
Some good, some bad.
“What are your names?” Adam Mackenzie asked the boys, his deep voice a little scary. Jenna gave a light squeeze to their hands to encourage them.
“Timmy.” The bigger of her two boys, always a little more curious, a little more brave, spoke first. “And we don’t talk to strangers.”
He also liked to mimic.
“Timmy, mind your manners,” Jenna warned, smiling down at him.
“Of course you don’t, and that’s good.” Adam Mackenzie turned his attention to the smaller of her two boys. “And what about you, cowboy?”
“I’m David.” He didn’t suck his thumb. Instead he pulled his left hand free from hers and shoved his hands into his pockets. He looked up at the tall, giant of a man walking next to him. “And we have a big uncle named Clint.”
A baritone chuckle and Adam made eye contact with Jenna. She smiled, because that light was in his eyes. It hadn’t been a trick of the camera, or her imagination. She had to explain what David had meant to be a threatening comment about her brother. Leave it to the boys to think they all needed to be protected from a stranger.
“My brother lives down the road a piece.”
“Clint Cameron?” Adam’s gaze drifted away from her to the ramp at the side of the porch. Her brother had put the ramp in before she came home from the hospital last fall.
“Yes, Clint Cameron. You know him?”
“We played against each other back in high school. What’s he doing now?”
“Raising bucking bulls with his wife. They travel a lot.”
Jenna grabbed the handrail and walked up the steps, her boys and Adam Mackenzie a few steps behind, watching her. The boys knew the reason for her slow, cautious climb. She imagined Adam wondering at her odd approach to steps. In the six months since she’d been home, she’d grown used to people wondering and to questioning looks. Now it was more about her, and about raising the boys. She was too busy with life to worry about what other people were thinking about her.
It hadn’t always been that way. Times past, she worried a lot about what people thought.
She opened the front door, and he reached and pushed it back, holding it for them to enter. She slid past him, the boys in front of her.
“Do you want tea?” She glanced over her shoulder as she crossed the living room, seeing all of the things that could make him ask questions about her life. If he looked.
He stood inside her tiny living room in the house she’d grown up in. A house that used to have more bad memories than good. For her boys the bad memories would be replaced with those of a happy childhood with a mom who loved them.
There wouldn’t be memories of a dad. She wasn’t sorry about that, but then again, sometimes she was.
The walls of the house were no longer paneled. Clint had hung drywall, they’d painted the room pale shell and the woodwork was white now, not the dark brown of her childhood. The old furniture was gone, replaced by something summery and plaid. Gauzy white curtains covered the floor-to-ceiling windows, fluttering in the summer breeze that drifted through the house.
Everything old, everything that held a bad memory, had been taken out, replaced. And yet the memories still returned, of her father drunk, of his rage, and sometimes him in the chair, sleeping the day away.
Adam took up space in the small house, nearly overwhelming it, and her, with his presence. As she waited for his answer to the question about iced tea, he took off his hat and brushed a hand through short but shaggy sandy-brown hair.
“Tea?” He raised a brow and she remembered her question.
“Yes, iced tea.”
“Please. And the phone book?”
“The number for the garage is on my fridge.” She led him down the hall to the kitchen with a wood table in the center of the room.
She loved the room, not just the colors—the pale yellow walls and white cabinets. She loved that her sister-in-law, Willow, had decorated and remodeled it as a way to welcome Jenna home. The room was a homecoming present and a symbol of new beginnings. They had worked on the rest of the house as Jenna recovered.
Jenna poured their tea while Adam dialed the phone. When she turned, he was leaning against the wall, watching her. She set the tea down on the table while he finished his conversation.
“Is it taken care of?” She pulled a first-aid kit from the cabinet over the stove.
“They’ll be out in an hour. They wanted to call the police to write up an accident report.”
Jenna swallowed and waited for him to tell her how he’d responded to that. Accident. She hadn’t really thought about that. Her boys had caused an accident. She pulled out the chair and sat down, stretching her legs.
“I’m so sorry. You really could have been hurt.”
“Your boys could have been hurt.”
She nodded. “I know. The rule is that they don’t go down the drive. They’re usually very good boys.”
“I’m sure they are.” He picked up the glass of tea. “I’m going to need to rent a car.”
“Not around here. And I want to finish talking about the accident report. You’ll need to let them call the county so you can get this covered on your insurance.”
He drained half the glass of tea in one gulp and set it down on the table. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Just like that, you’ll take care of it?” She bit down on her bottom lip, waiting, because it couldn’t be this easy. “My boys caused an accident and major damage to an expensive car.”
“They didn’t really cause the accident. I saw their dog backing into the road….”
“And that caused the wreck. They were holding the leash of the dog that backed into the road.”
“Wow, do you plan on making this difficult?”
“No, I’m just trying to do the right thing.”
“You can give me a ride down to that Godfor—”
She lifted her hand and shook her head to stop him. “Watch your language.”
He shook his head. “Great, another Will.”
“Excuse me?”
“My manager, Will. Did he hire you to keep me in line?”
“Sorry, no, you’re a big boy and you’ll have to keep yourself in line. Now let me put a Band-Aid on your cheek. You’re bleeding.” She motioned to the chair as she stood up and opened the first-aid kit. “Sit.”
“I’m fine.”
“I can’t have you get an infected cut on my watch.”
The boys hurried into the room. They must have heard her mention that he was injured. They were wide-eyed and impressed as they stared at the cut.
“It’s gonna need stitches,” Timmy informed their victim, peering up, studying the wound.
“Do you think so?” Adam asked, reaching to touch the cut.
“Don’t touch it, just sit.” Jenna pointed again to the chair.
He sat down at the kitchen table, giving her easier access to his face. His eyes were closed and when she touched his cheek he flinched.
“That hurts. What are you putting on it, alcohol?” He pulled away from her fingers.
Her fingers stilled over the small cut and he opened his eyes, looking at her. She glanced away. “I’m cleaning it. It doesn’t hurt that bad.”
He looked at the boys. Jenna glanced over her shoulder and smiled at them. They were cringing, twin looks of angst on their suntanned faces.
“It’s really bad,” David whispered.
“Does it need stitches?” Adam asked them, not her. As if the
y were the authority.
The boys were nodding. “It has a lot of blood.”
Timmy and David stepped closer.
She shook her head. “Don’t listen to them. It won’t even leave a scar.”
She pulled the backing off the Band-Aid with fingers that trembled as she put the adhesive strip in place. She felt like a silly teenager watching the star football player from across the dining room of the local Dairy Bar. She’d never been the girl that those football players dated.
“Finished?” He touched his cheek and pushed the chair back from the table.
“Finished. Now, if you want, I’ll drive you to the camp.”
“That sounds good. I’ll make a call to the rental company and have a car delivered.”
Settled, just like that.
With Adam “Big Mac” Mackenzie behind her, she walked out the back door. As she headed for her truck, she walked slowly, hoping he wouldn’t notice if she stumbled.
But what did it matter? She was who she was. And Adam Mackenzie was passing through.
The boys were climbing into the backseat of her truck squabbling over who sat on what side. She smiled, because that’s who she was, she was Timmy and David’s mom. But as she opened her truck door, she caught Adam Mackenzie’s smile and she was hit hard by the reality that she was more than a mom. She was obviously still a woman.
Chapter Two
Adam slid into the old truck and slammed the door twice before it latched. He glanced sideways and Jenna Cameron smiled at him, her dimples splitting her cheeks and adding to her country-girl charm. He knew a dozen guys that would fall for a smile like that.
He knew he’d almost fallen when he looked up as she dabbed salve on his face and caught her staring with brown eyes as warm as a summer day. She’d bitten down on her lower lip and pretended she wasn’t staring.
The boys were buckled in the backseat of the extended-cab truck. They were fighting over a toy they’d found on the floorboard. He wondered where their dad was, or if they had one. Jenna Cameron: her maiden name, so she wasn’t married. Not that he planned on calling her. He had long passed the age of summer romances.
The truck, the farm, a country girl and two little boys. This life was as far removed from Adam’s life as fast food was from the restaurants he normally patronized. He kicked aside those same fast-food wrappers in the floor of the truck to make room for his feet. A toy rattled out of one of the bags and he reached to pick it up.
“This should stop the fighting.” He reached into the back and the boys stared, eyes wide, both afraid to take the plastic toy. “I’m not going to bite you.”
They didn’t look convinced. Jenna smiled back at them. He would have behaved, too, if that smile had been aimed at him. The smaller twin took the toy from his hand. Another look from Jenna and the boy whispered a frightened, “Thank you.”
The truck rattled down the drive and the dog ran alongside. When they stopped at the end of the drive, the dog jumped in the back. What would his friends think of this? And Morgan—the woman he’d dated last, with her inch-long nails and hair so stiff a guy couldn’t run his fingers through it—what would she say?
Not that he really cared. They’d only had three dates, and then he’d lost her phone number. How serious could he have been?
“You grew up not far from here, right?” Jenna shifted and the truck slowed for the drive to his camp. He couldn’t help but think the word with a touch of sarcasm. It was the same sarcasm he typically used when he spoke of home.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Are you staying with family?”
“Nope.” He rolled his window down a little farther. He wasn’t staying with family, and he didn’t plan on talking about them.
He’d taken his father into the spotlight he craved, and now it was over. Retirement at thirty-three, and his father no longer had the tail of a star to grasp hold of. They hadn’t talked since Adam announced his retirement.
Over the years his relationship with his family had crumbled, because they’d made it all about his career. His sister had faded away a long time ago, probably before high school ended. She’d yelled at him about being a star, and she wasn’t revolving around his world anymore. And she hadn’t.
The truck bounced over the rutted trail of a drive that had once been covered with gravel. Now the rain had washed away the gravel and left deep veins that were nearly ditches. The truck bumped and jarred. Overgrown weeds and brush hit the side panel and a coyote, startled by their presence, ran off into the field. The dog in the back of the truck barked.
“This can’t be the place.”
“Sorry, it is.” Jenna flashed him a sweet smile that didn’t help him to feel better about the property, but he smiled back.
She reminded him of girls who’d wanted to wear his letter jacket back in high school. The kind that slipped a finger through a guy’s belt loop as they walked down the hall and kissed him silly on a Saturday night.
“If it makes you feel better, there are plenty of people around here looking for work.” She broke into the silence, speaking over the wind rushing through the cab of the truck and country music on the radio. “Take a drive into town and there are half a dozen guys who will mow this with a Brush Hog.”
“That’s good to know.” Not really.
He sighed as they continued on. Ahead he could see a two-story building with rows of windows. Probably the dorm. To the left of the dorm was a stable, and to the right of the dorm, a large metal-sided building. Jenna parked in front of a long, single-wide mobile home.
“Home sweet home.” She pushed the door open and jumped out. “It really is a good quality mobile home. And there’s a tornado shelter.”
She pointed to a concrete-and-metal fixture sticking up from the ground. A tornado shelter. So, the manager would duck into safety while fifty kids huddled in a dorm. He didn’t like that idea at all. Billy probably hadn’t given it a second thought.
Billy had lived a pretty sketchy life for the most part. A few years ago he’d found religion and then a desire to do something for troubled kids. Adam had thought Billy’s plan for the camp was legit. Maybe it had started out that way.
Adam walked toward the mobile home, wading through grass that was knee-high. The boys were out of the truck and running around, not fazed by grass or the thought of snakes and ticks.
He would have done the same thing at their age. Now, he was a long way from his childhood, not far from home, and the distance had never been greater.
“Do you know a Realtor?” He looked down, and Jenna Cameron shook her head.
“Drive into Grove and pick one. I couldn’t tell you the best one for the job, but there are several.”
His cell phone rang. He smiled an apology and walked away from her, leaving her looking toward the stable with a gleam that was undeniable. Most women loved diamonds, not barns.
“Are you there?” Will’s voice, always calm. That’s what he got paid for. Will was the voice of reason. Will prayed for him.
Adam had bristled when Will first told him that a few months back. Now the knowledge had settled and he sometimes thought about why his manager would think he needed prayer.
“If this is it, I’m here. And I’m…”
“Watch it, Adam.” Will’s endless warning.
“Fine, I’m here. It’s paradise. Two hundred acres of overgrown brush, a drive with more ruts and ditches than you can imagine and my living quarters are a trailer.”
“It could be worse.”
“So you always say. Is that a verse in the Bible? I can’t remember.”
Will laughed. “Close. The verse says more about not worrying about today’s troubles, tomorrow’s are sufficient in themselves.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better? Can’t you think of something more optimistic?”
“Has it been so long since you’ve been to church?”
“Your kid’s dedication when she was born.”
“She has a name.”<
br />
“Yeah, she does. Kate, right?”
“You’re close. It’s Kaitlin.”
“See, I’m not so shallow and self-centered.”
“I never thought you were. So, about the camp…”
“I’m going to contact a Realtor.”
“No, you’re not. Adam, you can’t ditch that place.”
Adam glanced in the direction of the cowgirl and her two kids. They were tossing a stick for the dog and she was pretending not to listen. He could tell she was.
“Why am I not selling?” He lowered his voice and turned away.
“Because you need this patch on your reputation. You need to stay and see this through. You need to be the good guy.”
“My reputation isn’t bad enough for this to be the punishment.”
“Look, Adam, let’s not beat around the bush. You have money in your account, a nice house in Atlanta and a shot at being a national anchor for one of the biggest sports networks in the world. Don’t mess it up.”
Adam walked up the steps to the covered porch on the front of the mobile home. He peeked in the front door, impressed by the interior and the leather furniture his cousin had bought with his money.
“Adam?”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Is this compliance?” Will sounded far too amused and then he chuckled, as if to prove it. “Stay there. Clean the place up and make it a camp for underprivileged kids. Show the world what a good guy you are.”
“I’m not a good guy, I’m self-centered and macho. I’m a ladies’ man. I worked hard on that reputation and now you want me to change it?”
“I didn’t ask for the other reputation, it’s the one you showed up with. This is what I’m asking for. That you stay for the summer, show the world the real you, and be nice to the neighbor.”
Adam glanced in her direction, blue jeans and a T-shirt, two little boys. “How do you know about her?”
“Billy told me she’s a sweet girl.”
“You talked to Billy?”
“He called to ask a few questions, just advice on the property.”
Jenna's Cowboy Hero Page 2