by Vicki Tharp
“I’m supposed to trust my life to Finn’s flunky?”
“No way around it. Finn vouches for him. If that makes you feel any better.”
It didn’t. Not at all.
It was Wednesday night, and Jack used a knife to scrape the excess pancake mix off the top of the measuring cup and poured it into the mixing bowl. “I wanted to eat at the big house tonight, with everyone else.”
“You love pancake night.” She added the milk and the egg to the flour mix and handed Jack the whisk.
“Yeah, but…”
“But what?”
Jack crushed the big lumps. “Mr. Gil said he wasn’t going to the hospital tonight. I thought he might be there.”
Gil. Tessa pinched the bridge of her nose, but it didn’t ease the tension. Bradley’s lawyer had visited her that morning, and ever since, she’d vacillated from shock and utter disbelief, to profoundly pissed, to scared shit-less, and back so many times she was one hit from being knocked off an emotional cliff.
Good thing she’d had Quinn to take up her slack today, she’d been in no condition to pilot that bird.
She couldn’t lay her problems at her son’s feet, but she’d be as honest with him as she could. “I’ve had a dreadful day, and I wanted some time alone. Me and you.” She mostly made it through. Her voice only cracked at the end.
Jack stopped stirring and looked at her, and she blinked back the sting in her eyes. He went back to mixing. “You know when Billy has a bad day…”
Tessa tried to give Jack her full attention as she poured the batter into the hot pan, nodding encouragement and laughing in mostly the right spots, but she felt distracted and detached.
“Mom, Mom.” Jack gave her shoulder a nudge. “The pancakes are smoking.”
Smoke billowed up. She shoved the pan over to a cold burner and cut off the gas. “I’ll get the windows, you go open the door.”
Jack ran for the front door and threw it open. “Mr. Gil!”
Tessa turned. Gil stood on her threshold, his fist raised as if he were about to knock.
“Everything okay in here?” The smoke detector shrieked. Gil came in and waved a hand towel in front of the alarm and pushed the button to silence it as she finished opening the windows.
“Never better,” Tessa grabbed the pan of burned pancakes and scraped them into the sink, keeping her head ducked and her back to Gil as she tried to regain her composure.
Gil must have known something was up because he muscled his way to the sink and took over scraping duty. “Go sit down and take a load off.”
“I can clean up my own mess.”
“I don’t doubt that. Sit.” Then he leaned into her and said, “When he goes to bed, I want you to tell me what’s bothering you.”
“It’s the pancakes.”
“Bullshit,” he mumbled, as if aware that little ears were listening.
She relented. For now. But as much as she needed someone to talk to, she didn’t want to taint the start of something new with Gil with the toxic fallout that had been her marriage to Bradley.
Instead of going to the table to sit, she boosted herself on the counter next to him. She handed him the hand towel to dry the pan with.
“Wanna have pancakes with us, Mr. Gil? We can make more batter, and we have a brand-new bottle of syrup. I can sit on the step stool since we don’t have three chairs.”
Gil glanced at her, then faced her son. “I’d love to, but…”
“You already ate?” Jack’s shoulders sank, and he looked like he’d shrunk a couple inches.
“No, but… I uh…” Gil shot Tessa a quick, help-me-out-here look. He acted like he wanted to stay, but he’d been trying really hard to respect her wishes and stay clear of Jack.
“He has barn chores tonight,” Tessa said.
“But, Mom, he has to eat. My teacher says that breakfast is the most important meal of the day, but Billy says it’s dinner. I think all of them are important because if you skip them, then you’re hungry. And if you don’t eat and try to do chores then your stomach is grumbly-mumbly and mad, and all you can think about is food and, and, and I did my chores. I can help him with his. Mom, tell him he has to eat with us.”
Gil raised a brow at her, a light in his eyes as he tried to hold back his smile. “Yeah, Mom.” His voice was low, seductive. Sometimes he didn’t play fair. “Tell me.”
With the three of them living at the ranch, it didn’t look like keeping Gil away from Jack was going to be as effortless as she’d thought it would. Besides, after her crap day, she could use a distraction. “Will you please stay for dinner?”
“Only if you let me and Jack do the work.”
Tough bargain. Not. “Deal.”
While Gil whipped up some more batter, Jack set another place at the table. Tessa wasn’t sure what Gil had done to the recipe, but the pancakes came out extra fluffy and cooked to a perfect golden brown. By the time all the pancakes had been cooked, the burnt pancake smell had dissipated, and they closed the front door.
Jack slathered his food with butter and syrup and dug in. “Wow.” Jack tucked the bite into the pouch of his cheek. “Mom, from now on Mr. Gil gets to cook all the pancakes.”
Tessa laughed. “You little fink. My pancakes are—”
“Passable. That’s what Billy calls the food at camp. It means it looks like food but doesn’t taste too much like it.”
Gil swallowed a big swig of milk, and to Tessa said, “I really gotta meet this Billy kid someday.”
“You and me both.”
Conversation came to a halt as the three of them stuffed themselves.
“Hey, can Billy come over and play when we’re back in the house?”
“We’ll see if we can get you two together.” Tessa didn’t want to commit to a play date at the house. While she didn’t think Bradley was a danger to Jack or his friend, she wasn’t convinced she’d seen the last of Bradley’s minions, and she didn’t want to take a chance they might show up while Jack had company.
“Speaking of the house, did Boomer say when he’ll have your back door fixed?”
“A few days to a week maybe. That door was a non-standard size. The hardware store had to order one in.”
“In the meantime, you two get to bunk with the abundantly cheerful Mia Mann.”
Tessa took one last bite then pushed her plate away before she ate enough to max out her helo’s carrying capacity. “It’s okay. She mainly keeps to herself.”
“When it’s not a work night, can we get flashlights and follow her at night and see where she goes? I think she sleeps in a cave with the bears—”
Tessa nudged Jack with her foot under the table.
Gil pinned her with a look. “What’s he talking about?”
“Oops.” Jack ducked his head, forked another bite into his mouth, and wiped away the drip of syrup from his chin.
“Tessa?”
She gathered her and Gil’s plates and dropped them in the sink as she tried to figure out how to answer that question without lying to Gil’s face or betraying what little trust she’d built with her recalcitrant roomie.
“You can’t say anything, Mom. We promised. Billy says if you break a prom—”
“Jack, if you’re finished eating, I want you to go get your shower.”
“Awh, Mom. I’m supposed to help Mr. Gil with the chores.”
“I don’t really have all that much to do, Squirt. Maybe you can help me another time.”
After the day she’d had, Tessa needed a little peace and quiet. A short time to herself to figure out what the hell she was going to do with Bradley. She gave Jack a you-aren’t-going-to-win-this look.
“Okay, okay.” He put his plate in the sink and slunk off toward the bathroom.
Gil filled the sink with soapy water and started washing the plates. “You going to tell me what’s going on with Mia?”
Jack ran back out of the bathroom, grabbed his pajamas and ran back in. The lock on the bathroom door cli
cked.
Gil glanced behind him as if to make sure that Jack was really gone. Tessa opened her mouth to speak, when Gil said, “Hold that thought.”
He shook the bubbles from his hand and cupped her cheek, pressing a kiss to her lips. The tension in her shoulders eased, and all she wanted to do was sink into this man who somehow righted her world and calmed the chaos.
“I’ve wanted to do that all day.” Then the softness left his eyes, and he dropped his hand. “Now, about Mia.”
“It’s not really my place to say anything.”
Gil handed Tessa a plate to dry. “Then answer me this. Do you think her behavior is putting her at undue risk?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a therapist.”
“Neither am I. Do we need to talk to Jenna? What’s your gut say?”
Her gut.
She almost laughed out loud. Her gut had a losing track record, and these days, she wasn’t sure she could trust it. But she also didn’t want to break the confidence of a woman who didn’t seem to have a friend or even anyone batting on her team. “I think she’s okay. She’s unsettled. Angry, even, but I don’t think she’s a danger to herself if that’s what you’re asking.”
Gil handed Tessa the last plate, plus the knives and forks. “If anything changes, I want you to tell Jenna.”
“Okay, but I’ll probably run it by you first, I—”
The furrow that appeared on Gil’s brow had her swallowing the rest of her words. “What is it?”
“I came over here tonight because I’ve got something to tell you.”
While Gil didn’t have any ranch chores, he did have some things he needed to take care of before he turned in for the night. Like packing and feeding Tessa the same sorry excuse he’d concocted and told Jenna, about why he had to leave on such short notice.
He left before Jack got out of the shower with the promise to go back later that night. He and Tessa needed to talk without interruption or little ears listening. If that time also involved a little kissing and heavy petting, well, selfish bastard that he was, he wouldn’t say no.
The moon had risen high by the time Gil stepped back up onto Tessa’s porch later that night. He rapped softly on the door, not wanting to wake Jack. The wait wasn’t long before Tessa opened the door and stepped outside wearing a pair of old gray sweats tucked into her boots and a navy-blue hoodie that hid her slender curves.
But Gil didn’t have to use his imagination to know what she looked like under those baggy clothes. He’d had her in his arms, had her breasts pressed against his chest, had her athletic thighs across his hips.
Damn if he didn’t want her straddling him again.
The yellow glow of the porch’s bug light couldn’t conceal the red rimming her eyes and her splotchy complexion.
She’d been crying.
Awh, hell. Gil’s heart squeezed.
He held out his arms, and she walked into them. “Hey, hey, hey.”
There came the clomp of a boot on the steps behind him, and Mia said, “What’s wrong with her?” She had that tone people get when they’re afraid to get too close because they’ll catch something.
As if having emotions were a communicable disease.
Mia shouldn’t have worried. Gil figured she was immune.
Gil tucked Tessa tight against his chest, and to Mia said, “Can you give us a minute? Better yet, can you watch Jack for a bit? I think a little air would do her good.”
Tessa swiped at the moisture on her cheeks and tried to take a step back. Gil loosened his grip, but he didn’t let go completely. “I can’t ask her to do that,” Tessa said. “We can stay on the porch.”
Something shifted on Mia’s face. Maybe her scowl softened, or the permanent crease between her brows eased. Hard to tell. “Go. I’ve got the kid.”
“But this is when you…” Tessa made a vague motion with her hand that was lost on Gil, but Mia seemed to understand.
“Go,” Mia repeated. “Before I change my mind.”
Gil wasn’t going to give Tessa a chance to argue or Mia the opportunity to change her mind. With a hand at the small of Tessa’s back, he led her down the steps. Over his shoulder, he said, “Thanks, Snow.” Short for snowflake.
Mia made a noise between a grunt and a snarl, but he’d used the nickname a few times since their confrontation in the barn and she hadn’t decked him yet. She must not have hated it too much.
“Where’re we going?” Tessa said as she slipped her hand into his.
“Wherever you want.”
She didn’t choose a location, but the moon wasn’t very bright, so he led her up the dirt road toward the barn. This late at night, it should be deserted, but more than once he’d caught Sidney or Jenna up there at night over the past months. Seemed like the horses always made them feel better. Probably could do the same for Tessa.
A floodlight on the corner of the barn shined on one of the paddocks. Insects swirled and dived, like the bug version of a World War II dogfight.
He and Tessa leaned against the paddock rails and watched the horses graze, the rhythmic chomping as they munched on grass he found more soothing than those nature CDs with birds chirping or waves crashing.
Since she wasn’t talking, he decided he’d start the conversation. “You going to tell me what’s going on with you?”
One of the horses came over and sniffed Tessa’s hand looking for treats. “It’s my ex.” She rubbed the soft velvet at the end of the horse’s nose.
When she didn’t elaborate, he took her hand and turned her to him. What had the asshole done this time? It took every last gram of control that he had, not to let the anger seep into his voice. “Tell me.”
“Shit,” she said as she swiped at her cheeks. “You sounding all concerned and sincere got the waterworks started again.” She took a couple of deep, shaking breaths. The tears stopped, but her hand shook in his. “My ex filed for emergency custody of Jack. We’re supposed to be in court on Friday.”
“That’s the day after tomorrow. What the fuck?” The words came out too fast for Gil to moderate his tone.
Tessa laughed. Dark. Stormy. “That’s what I said.”
“On what grounds? You’re a terrific mother, what—”
“He said that I can’t provide a safe environment for Jack. With the break in—”
“That’s complete horse shit.” Gil stalked away a few steps, then came back. “He’s the one responsible for the break-in to begin with, right?”
“I can’t prove it.”
“You have a good lawyer?”
She nodded. “She says that my ex probably doesn’t have a chance. I’ve got a good job. A support system for Jack while I work. He’s well adjusted, and he does well in school.”
Probably. Gil caught that one word. That one word that stuck out from all the others, that one word that made his gut clench and his fist want to find a wall…or a jaw.
“I’m scared.” Her voice quivered, and she sniffed. “I’m so fucking scared. That’s my kid. He’s got no right. He’s the one who left. He’s the one that didn’t want any part of having a kid in the first place, and now he wants to fight me for full custody?
“Jack barely even knows him. They’ve had a handful of visits since he’s moved closer to us. If he cared at all about his son, he wouldn’t take him away from his home, from me.”
“I think it’s clear your ex only cares about himself.”
Tessa gripped the top rail of the paddock. The nails in the boards creaked under the strain. “He’ll never change. I used to think he was focused on his career because he wanted to be the best husband, the best provider because he loved me. But I know the real him now. The only thing that man loves more than money and power is himself.”
They heard hoof beats behind them, and out of the darkness, Eli, Sidney’s buckskin gelding, aka the Houdini of Horses, came trotting up from the direction of Sidney’s cabin. He jumped the fence as if it had been a log on the ground and joined the other hor
ses in the paddock.
“Sidney must have gone to bed,” Tessa said. “I can’t believe Eli doesn’t run off. I guess some men stick around after all.”
“Hey, now.” While she scratched the withers of the horse grazing nearest them, Gil wrapped his arms around her from behind. “We’re not all assholes.”
Because what he had to say next was true and because she probably needed to hear it, he added, “Any man would be lucky to have you and Jack to call his own. A man like your ex doesn’t deserve a minute of your time. You are worthy. Don’t ever forget that.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder and looked up at him. “Someone like you?”
Yes… but no. She was worthy of so much more than him. “Don’t settle. Look around. There are plenty of better men than me out there.” He just hoped like hell she never found them.
She turned in his arms, and kissed her way up his neck, her teeth scraping against his bearded jaw. Her hair was damp from her shower, and he caught a hint of helo exhaust beneath the spring-clean scent of her shampoo.
He backed her against the railing as she kissed her way to his lips. His mouth opened to hers, his tongue inviting and enticing her in. But he didn’t want to take her up against the paddock.
He broke the kiss and held out his hand. “Come with me.”
She placed her hand in his and followed him into the barn without a word. He snagged a couple of the quilted horse blankets from the tack room and led her up the stairs to the hayloft. They could have gone back to his cabin, but the bunk bed was hardly big enough for him, much less the two of them.
However, the real reason he didn’t want to take her back to his cabin was that he was afraid if he did, she’d change her mind. He wasn’t too proud of that, but that didn’t stop him either.
Moonlight filtered in through the open hay lift door at the rear of the barn. Gil pulled the strings off a square bale, kicked the hay into a fluffy bed, and laid the blankets over the top.
Even though the night was chilly, between the heat that had gathered in the hayloft during the day, and the insulating powers of the hay, they were plenty warm as he stripped to his briefs and pulled her down beside him.