by Kylie Brant
No, his thoughtfulness shouldn’t surprise her, and it certainly shouldn’t soften something deep inside, unleashing feelings that were best left unexamined.
She turned away from the window. “Annie, what do you know about Jed’s childhood?”
The woman didn’t raise her gaze from the letter she was beginning. “I know he was quiet as a priest, determined to a fault and, at times, rivaled only by you for sheer orneriness.”
Julianne slipped her hands into the pockets of her gauzy summer dress and shook her head. “No, I don’t mean after he came here. I mean before.”
The other woman did raise her gaze then, and it was quizzical. “You mean before Kimberley divorced his father? Or before the adoption?”
When she lifted a shoulder, one thin strap slipped and Julianne reached up to move it back into place. Strolling aimlessly around the room, her fingers trailed over the odds and ends Annie had set about on every available surface. There were numerous framed pictures, both of her and Jed, taken at various ages. She paused, picking up a plaster imprint of her hand that she’d made when she’d been in kindergarten. Harley hadn’t been interested in the endless collection of personal keepsakes from his daughter’s childhood, but Annie had tried her best to fill the voids he’d left in Julianne’s life. With a surge of gratitude, it occurred to her that the woman had had remarkable success.
Replacing the piece of plaster, she moved on to the woman’s collection of whimsical frogs. Belatedly, she answered Annie’s question. “What do you know about his real mother?”
The woman was slow to answer. “I have my suspicions, but I don’t really know anything for fact. Enough to figure that he was well rid of her. Even though Kimberley and her first husband weren’t much at parenting, Jed was taken care of after the adoption, physically at least.” Her gaze sharpening, she added, “Why do you ask?”
Unable to maintain eye contact, Julianne’s attention drifted to the frogs arranged in a variety of silly poses. The pieces ranged from dime-store quality to carved pieces of jade and molded brass. Picking one in polished ebony, she ran a fingertip over its sleek lines. “Just a conversation we had. I wondered why he wasn’t interested in opening his birth records. He could have other family somewhere. I would think he’d want to know.”
Annie sighed. “I can just imagine how he reacted to that suggestion. Julianne, sometimes you can’t pick things apart and examine why they are the way they are. Sometimes you just have to accept and go on. Whatever came in Jed’s childhood before we knew him had a hand in shaping the man he is today. He can’t go back and change that, and he’s not the type of man who would want to.”
“I’m not suggesting he could change anything,” Julianne protested, “I just thought…”
“Jed’s a private sort,” Annie said firmly. “He didn’t have much to hang on to when he was young. I can’t see him stirring up what he’s found here while he reaches out for what-might-have-beens.” She struggled to fight a yawn and failed.
Certain that the woman would be asleep in only a few more minutes, Julianne crossed to the bed and dropped a light kiss on her hair. “I’ll see you in the morning. I’m going to finish up in the kitchen and probably make an early night of it myself.”
“Hah. I know what you’re up to, girl.” The woman waggled her pen at her. “But I said I’m staying awake until nine, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Julianne cocked a grin. “Care to make a little wager on that?”
Annie sniffed. “Certainly not. Way I hear it, there’s been more than enough wagering going on around here.” Her voice was stern, but she couldn’t disguise the twinkle in her eye. “Don’t know what those men were thinking, sitting down with you over a deck of cards. The fools are just lucky you left them with their shirts.”
Julianne didn’t bother to inquire where the woman had gotten her information. “I had to leave them something for the next time, didn’t I?” She moved to the door. “I’ll see you in the morning. You let that medication do its work, now, you hear?”
Smiling at the woman’s mutterings, Julianne stepped into the kitchen and was met by the sight of Jed standing at the kitchen sink running water over his bloody hand.
“How’d you manage to hurt yourself watering the flowers?”
He grunted and continued to hold his hand under the faucet. “I sliced my hand on one of those blasted little shovels she uses to dig out the weeds.”
“A trowel did that?”
“Damn thing is all rough edges and rust.” His voice was little more than an embarrassed mutter. “I don’t see how Annie manages not to cut herself to pieces.”
He pulled his hand out of the stream of water to examine it. The wound oozed sullenly. Julianne could feel nausea roll through her stomach. She didn’t do well around blood.
“It needs stitches,” she said faintly. The cut wasn’t particularly long, but it was wickedly deep, with ragged edges.
“It’s not that bad. I just need a couple of Band-Aids.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Think you can manage to stay on your feet long enough to help with that?”
She swallowed hard. “Me? No problem.”
“I seem to recall you have a little trouble around blood.”
Taking a deep breath, she willed the pounding in her ears to subside. “Not as long as it’s only yours.”
He turned off the water with his uninjured hand and carelessly wadded a wet paper towel against the wound. “Then you’re in luck. Go get those bandages, will you?”
Julianne eyed him doubtfully. “I still think you should let me take you into town and have Doc Brierly stitch you up. When’s the last time you had a tetanus shot?”
He spun on his booted heel and headed to the bathroom. “You’re stalling. I’ll do it myself.”
She trailed after him. “How are you going to do that? Grow a third hand?”
He was already opening the bathroom cabinets and rummaging through them. She gave a mental sigh and gave in. She could do this, she assured herself. It was simply a case of mind over matter. She hoped.
“Wait, let me.” She snatched the box of Band-Aids from him and turned back to the cabinet. “You should at least treat it first with a disinfectant. We don’t want your hand to turn green and fall off, do we?” She set the box down and turned to him with a bottle of first-aid spray, keeping her gaze scrupulously away from his injured hand.
He eyed the bottle in her hand warily. “That’s not going to sting, is it?”
She rolled her eyes. “Try to be brave, champ.” She had to force herself then to look at the wound, and although the bloodstained paper towel had the nausea rising in her throat again, she pulled it away from his hand and squirted a healthy dose of disinfectant on the injury.
“Dammit to hell!” He yanked his hand away and blew on it, glaring at her. “Not exactly Florence Nightingale’s cosmic twin, are you?”
Reaching for the Band-Aids, she grinned unsympathetically. “Don’t be such a baby. I remember the time that bull caught you in the chest with its horn. Where’s your tight-lipped tough guy routine now?” She finished wrapping the bandages over his wound and took a breath. She had to be at least as grateful as he that it was over.
He examined her handiwork carefully. “I seriously doubt you caught much of my tough guy routine, since you were busy keeling over at the sight of all the blood.”
“I definitely did not keel. It was more of a ladylike swoon.” She was almost certain of it. Tossing her hair back, she looked at him, conscious that the room seemed to have shrunk since they’d entered it. His shoulders were broad enough to block her view of the doorway. Strange that she hadn’t noticed until now how close they were standing. With effort, she tore her gaze away from Jed and focused blindly on a point beyond his left shoulder.
“If you say so.” The amusement in his voice didn’t surprise her. The finger he stroked down her cheek did. Her head jerked at the touch, and she stared at him, shocked. “Thanks for the fi
rst aid. I’m willing to make an exchange to show my gratitude.”
She swallowed hard, her gaze trained on his lips as he formed the words. “An exchange?”
His mouth quirked. “Sure. I won’t tell Annie that you’ve been sneaking some of her yellow roses for your room.”
“How’d you…” She stopped when he raised an eyebrow. Of course, he’d noticed when he’d done the watering. “Well, as crimes go, it’s not going to get me five to ten.” The casual conversation gave her time to let out the air that had unexpectedly backed up in her lungs. That crazy shaft of awareness that had pierced her earlier was fading. It was, she assured herself. The need to put some distance between them no longer seemed urgent, just wise.
“Why don’t you let me clean up in here?” she suggested, turning to the mess she’d left in the sink.
“Sure. I’d like to talk to you about Annie when you’re done, though. Can you stop in the den?”
Her agreement earned her some breathing room as Jed turned and left the small space. Immediately, the air expanded. Julianne attended to the task at hand automatically. She threw the wet paper towels in the trash and put the first-aid supplies back in the cupboard. How nice and neat it would be, she thought wryly, if she could shut away her emotions as easily.
When she walked into the den a few minutes later, Jed was nursing a Scotch and frowning at the computer screen. She strolled around the desk to peer over his shoulder.
“Cattle prices went down again today,” he muttered, scrolling down the market listings.
“It’s a good time to buy, then.”
“It would be. I just wish that the damn barn was done.”
“You can make do with the old barn for now, can’t you?”
He turned his head as he replied. “Sure, but…” His words stopped abruptly, his lips close enough to her face to brush against the skin of her cheek.
Self-consciously, Julianne drew back. She would have moved away if she hadn’t found herself suddenly fascinated by the way his evening beard darkened his chin, giving him a faintly disreputable look.
His frown deepened, and a muscle in his jaw went tight. She straightened and rounded the desk, dropping safely into a chair.
Embarrassment balled in her throat, making her voice sound thick. “What were you saying about the barn?”
“The barn?”
In the time it took him to answer, she carefully smoothed the gauzy material of her dress over her legs and crossed one knee over the other. Only then did she risk looking at him again. His gaze was dark and feral, and an unexpected shiver slid down her spine.
“You said you wished the new cattle barn was done. I said you could use the existing one. You said…”
“Yeah.” The word sounded rusty. He cleared his throat.
“I’m not just talking about getting the new barn up. We don’t really need it until the snow flies. But I wanted to get that expense out of the way, and make a few more changes around here before I dip into the cash flow again.”
Julianne welcomed the distraction the conversation provided. And she was well versed enough with ranch matters to speak about them knowledgeably. “You mean you’re weighing the advantage of the lower prices against a fear of overextending your capital?” At his nod, she asked something that had been bothering her for days. “Aren’t you worried about mixing your money with Harley’s in the ranch?” At the stillness that came over him then, she hurriedly added, “You know how he is when he hits a rocky patch. I’d hate to see you lose anything that you’ve invested here.”
“That won’t happen,” he said with finality. He moved his chair away from the laptop open on his desk and reached to take the glass he had resting beside it. Swirling the amber eddies of liquor in his glass, he forestalled her next question. “I won’t let it.”
She was unconvinced. From what she’d seen of the ranch, the only improvements that had been made in her absence had taken place very recently. Which meant, of course, that Harley hadn’t put a penny into the place. When she’d been a teenager, they’d kept as many cattle as the ranch could support. Jed’s talk of adding to the herd could only mean that her father had sold hundreds of head off, to support himself during one of his losing streaks.
A sudden thought struck her then, and her gaze flew to the man before her. “He never…he didn’t sell any of the land, did he?”
Jed’s voice was cool and smooth, but his calm was belied by the way his fingers suddenly clenched the glass in his hand. “About a hundred acres to Jim Pooler, a couple of years ago.”
Although his answer wasn’t unexpected, the words still stole her breath, weakened her knees. She was grateful she was already sitting.
“He…he must have been desperate.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice, from her heart. It didn’t take much to fuel desperation in Harley. The thought of missing out on the next big stakes game would be enough. He’d brought the ranch to the verge of bankruptcy more than once, mortgaging it so heavily that at times it had seemed as if her childhood home would become a distant memory. Each time, his luck had taken an upswing. And on each occasion, she’d been left wondering how long before it happened again.
“You’re taking a chance here, more than I thought. You could lose your entire investment if Harley…” She couldn’t even manage to finish the sentence, but her meaning hung in the air between them.
“I don’t take chances, you told me that yourself.” His voice was flat. “Harley is never going to threaten this ranch again.”
Julianne ran her hands up and down arms that were suddenly chilled. She didn’t want to consider this anymore, didn’t want to remember the times she’d lived in fear as a child that she wouldn’t have a home the next day, the next month, the next year. That everything she valued could be gone at the blink of an eye.
She sprang from her chair, driven to move. She stopped before the windows. The sun had exploded with spectacular brilliance and was rapidly sinking behind the mountains. Darkness fell quickly in their part of the state.
The sound of ice clinking in a glass sounded behind her, and without even trying she could visualize Jed as he watched her. And he was watching. She didn’t question her certainty of that. A warm river of heat streamed down her spine, as if jettisoned by his gray gaze. She shoved a hand through her hair and shuddered a breath. Her reaction to him was becoming too unpredictable, too uncontrollable.
“You said you had something to discuss,” she said, not turning around.
“Hmm?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him and was immediately pinned by that enigmatic gray gaze. “About Annie?”
He set his glass down then, with more care than the act required. “It’s really not so much about Annie. It’s about you.”
“Me?”
He nodded. “I know you’ve had to shoulder all of Annie’s duties while she’s laid up. Not to mention looking after her, as well. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve arranged to get some help out here starting next week.”
“What kind of help?”
“Someone to do the cleaning, take care of the house. All you’ll have to do is check up on Annie occasionally.”
Her emotions, which had ping-ponged all evening, settled abruptly into anger. “Unarrange it.”
He blinked. “What?”
Her voice went dangerous, which suited the sudden shift in her mood. “I thought I was clear enough. Whoever you hired, unhire them. If I had wanted help, I would have asked for it.”
“Don’t be stubborn, Jules. Of course you need help.”
“Of course? Why ‘of course’? Because I couldn’t possibly be counted on to handle things?”
He eyed her warily. “I only meant that you could use a hand at it. The house keeps Annie busy all day, and you’ve got her to watch over, too. Admit it. You’re wearing yourself out trying to keep up with it all. Hell, you’re exhausted right now.”
The fact that his words were true didn’t lessen their sti
ng. “I’m not brainless, or useless. I don’t need help, I don’t want it, and if I did I could damn well arrange for it myself.”
Now he looked completely mystified, with more than a little mad mixed in. “Where did that come from? I’ve never thought you were useless or…what’s gotten into you?”
She reached him in three quick steps, pushing her face down to his to snarl, “You. You always have to step in and take care of things yourself. Did it ever occur to you, Jed, that when you take over you make me feel like you think I’m too helpless to cope? It was the same way when you went to Florida. You just assumed I couldn’t handle things on my own. You’ve been doing it my whole life, and I want it to stop now.”
His eyes narrowed and his words were measured. “You don’t want to be throwing my help up in my face, Julianne.”
She slapped both hands on the arms of his chair and leaned closer, close enough so their noses almost touched. “Yes, I do. I’m telling you for the last time to back off.”
She glared at him and he glared back. She was near enough to see that his gray eyes had gone molten. Belatedly she realized their proximity and straightened. But when she would have moved away, his hand snagged her wrist.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” His tone had no detectable note of agreement in it. Instead, it was hard and ruthless.
“As a matter of fact, I know you are. You may be a pain in the ass, but you’re not weak and you’re not useless. I’ve told you before you’re one of the strongest women I know. I’m just trying to protect you.”
“Why?” Her voice held a genuine note of amazement.
He flung her wrist away. His voice, when it came, was baffled and brusque. “Maybe I don’t know why, okay? Maybe I’ve never understood where this need to protect you comes from. I don’t like to think of you hurt, or tired or scared. It twists something up inside me, something I wish I could turn off. Believe me, it’d be a hell of a lot easier if I could.”