Harlequin American Romance October 2013 Bundle: Twins Under the Christmas Tree\Big Sky Christmas\Her Wyoming Hero\A Rancher's Christmas (28 page)

She smiled.
Yes.
This was exactly what they needed. “Time is good.”

“The question is, what to do with it? Would you like to go to a movie in Lewistown? Or maybe out for dinner at the Green Veranda?”

What she really wanted was to be alone,
all
alone, with Jackson.

But she didn't dare say that. “Dinner sounds nice.”

Besides, her apartment was conveniently just a block away from the restaurant....

* * *

J
ACKSON
COULDN
'
T
DENY
the nervous feeling in his gut as he prepared for his date with Winnie the next evening.

Did he want to spend the evening alone with her?

Hell, yes.

But he was honest enough to admit that he hadn't yet mastered the guilt he felt whenever he thought about the fact that Winnie was supposed to be
Brock's
bride.

He and Brock had grown extremely close during the years he'd spent at Coffee Creek Ranch. While B.J. had been initially suspicious and perhaps even jealous of the new kid his father had taken in, both Corb and Brock had been open and friendly from the start.

Corb had been a few years older, though, and so it had been Brock to whom he'd gravitated during the few hours of leisure they had each day.

As the younger son, Brock had enjoyed having someone to teach for a change, and he'd quickly passed along a myriad of ranching skills to the green city kid.

They'd made a good team and, recognizing this, Bob Lambert had often assigned them tasks to work on together.

As adults, they'd both ended up focusing on the quarter-horse operation, leaving Bob and Corb to deal with the cattle and hay farming.

Then Bob had died, and Corb had become the lead man on the cattle end.

After Brock's death, Jackson had similarly stepped in to manage the quarter-horse operation, until last summer when B.J. had quit the rodeo and come home to settle down with Savannah.

By then, Jackson had been more than happy to step away from his position and take the opportunity offered to him by Maddie Turner. Even if Maddie hadn't made her offer, he'd been ready to leave and would have taken the first foreman job that came his way.

While Coffee Creek Ranch had been a great place to work, it hadn't felt right once Brock was gone.

Jackson knew he'd always miss him.

But did that also mean he'd always feel guilty for falling in love with Brock's woman?

He appreciated the fact that the Lambert kids had all made a point of telling him they had no objection to the relationship. But none of that really mattered if he couldn't feel right about it in his bones.

Jackson glanced at his reflection in the mirror on the back of his door.

He'd dressed in his best dark jeans and a black shirt with silver trim, fresh from the cleaners. Which meant it had actually been pressed, something he never bothered to do with his working clothes.

He'd gone to all this effort because Winnie was worth it. He wanted her to be proud to be seen with him. And he wanted this evening—the first they had ever spent alone as a couple—to be a success.

The lingering guilt he felt about Brock... That was going to lessen with time.

Jackson drove to town, where he picked up a bouquet of red roses from Molly's Market before presenting himself at her door, exactly at the time he'd said he'd pick her up.

It took her a while to come to the door.

He started to wonder if something had gone wrong.

But Corb had sent him a text—
Just picked up Bobby. Have a great time!
—
and had attached a smiling face to the end of the message.

That had been an hour ago. So what could be the problem?

And then, finally, the door opened and Winnie was on the other side. She looked gorgeous, with her dark hair falling in lovely curls over her shoulders, wearing a dress the same color as the flowers he'd bought because she looked so damn good in red.

He knew he should say something. But words failed him. He thrust the bouquet at her, feeling as awkward as a teenager on his first date.

“Sorry. I'm not good at this.” He couldn't even remember the last time he'd had a real date, one where he picked the woman up at her home instead of late at night in the bar.

“The flowers are lovely. Let me put them in water.”

He waited as she pulled a vase from a cupboard over the stove. Her dress made the most of her curves, even though it covered a fair amount of her skin. She was wearing dark tights with the dress and boots made of expensive leather that clung to her long, slender legs.

He had a primal urge to rip it all off her. The dress. The leggings. The boots.

He glanced down at the tips of his own boots—which he'd cleaned and polished just a half hour ago. Took a deep breath. He was here to woo her. Not ravish her.

He had to remember that.

But it turned out he wasn't any good at wooing.

Conversation over dinner was awkward. Winnie did her best. Apparently her parents were enjoying their first winter in Arizona.

Jackson couldn't have cared less.

All he could think about was how Winnie's eyes sparkled when she talked, how easily she smiled and how the curved neckline of her dress revealed a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage....

She was just as sunny and beautiful on the inside, too. She could have her pick of single men. Not just in the county, but probably all of Montana.

So why would she choose him?

He wasn't charming like Brock. And he was no way near as wealthy as Brock had been, either.

Sure, he stood to inherit some land, but it would take years before Silver Creek could turn a profit. And it might not. He might fail and lose everything—not just the inheritance, but his own savings, which he'd pumped into the place.

When the waiter offered dessert, he wasn't surprised Winnie refused.

She obviously couldn't wait for this “date” to end.

On the walk back to her apartment, she linked her hand through his arm. “Is something bothering you?”

He didn't answer at first. He waited until he'd delivered her back to the safety of her building. And that was when he told her.

“I guess our experiment failed.”

“It did?”

“Don't tell me you enjoyed that?”

“Not even a minute of it,” she admitted.

At least she was honest.

He stared down at the tips of his boots again. Somehow he'd managed to scuff them during the short walk to and from the restaurant. They no longer looked shiny and new.

He sighed. “Well. Olive will be happy.”

“What about you? How do you feel?”

Her question surprised him. He glanced up at her face and was shocked to see tears gathering in her eyes.

“I feel like I botched the most important night of my life. I tried to do it by the book. But I'm not a dinner and roses guy.”

“Did I ever
say
that was what I wanted?”

“No. But that's what
all
women want, isn't it? Flowers and romantic dinners in nice restaurants...”

“Oh, Jackson.” She shrugged off her coat, letting it fall to the floor. “Why have we wasted the past two hours?”

Chapter Twelve

Jackson had seemed like a stranger up until that moment. As soon as Winnie flung off her coat, though, the tension snapped. He picked it up and hung it on the hook next to the door.

“Take care of this coat. I'm partial to the way you look in red.” He put an arm around her waist and looked at her with more appetite than she'd seen in him all evening.

“So you like my dress?”

“Love the dress,” he murmured. And then he kissed her.

Long and thoroughly.

When he was done, he pulled away a few inches. “Hello, Win.”

She smiled, understanding that he was asking for a fresh start. “Hey there, cowboy.”

“One good thing about tonight. At least now you know I'm the kind of guy who would rather cook my woman a meal than take her out to a fancy restaurant.”

Winnie tried not to smile. The local Green Veranda wouldn't meet many people's definition of “fancy.” But she understood what he was saying. “I wouldn't be living in Coffee Creek if I wanted big-city life, Jackson. I'm as country as they come. One day I'll take you to meet my folks, and when you see the farm where I grew up, you'll understand.”

“Let's do that. As soon as your folks come back from Arizona.”

So he
had
been listening to her during their dinner. He'd looked so uncomfortable she hadn't been sure.

“Want to watch a movie?” she offered.

“I'd rather just sit next to you and talk.” He ran his hand down her arm and her skin sparkled to life with just that simple touch.

“Sounds good. Can I get you something to drink? Wine or a beer?”

“How about I make us a cowboy coffee? I still owe you dessert.”

“If by cowboy coffee you mean coffee boiled over a campfire, no thanks.”

He looked amused. “I've had plenty of those. And no, I wouldn't dream of making you that. My personal recipe is in another class all together. That is, if you have fresh cream, cinnamon and brandy?”

“All of the above.” She pulled out the ingredients and watched while he made a pot of decaf in her coffee press, then heated the cream and swirled in the brandy and cinnamon.

“Okay. This is pretty darn good.” They were sitting on the sofa by then. Jackson had his arm around her and she was leaning against his chest.

“Tell me more about growing up on your farm. Did you have pets?”

“Oh, yes, I did.” Jackson was stroking her hair, which felt lovely. “We had our dog, Gruff, and a cat Mom named Cash, because she loved Johnny Cash. Oh, and a chicken, too.”

“A chicken?”

“You have a problem with chickens?”

“Hard to house train?” he suggested.

“Mom didn't let her step inside the door. June used to follow me around the yard and I'd feed her special treats.”

“June? As in Johnny Cash's wife?”

“Mom's idea, again. I used to hide June's eggs so Mom couldn't find them. I couldn't stand the idea of eating June's potential babies.”

“Sounds like you had a lot of fun growing up on your farm.”

“I did.” He sounded wistful, and she thought of what he'd told her about his childhood. A lot of it had sounded hard. Moving from city to city. Never knowing his dad. There must be some happy memories, too. At least, she hoped. “What about you? Did you have any pets?”

“Not when I was living with my mom. It was all she could do to take care of me. Once I moved out to Coffee Creek, all I wanted was a horse. Never told anyone, of course. It seemed like way too much to ask for. But after I'd been living on the ranch for a year, Bob took me to a horse sale and when I spotted Red Rover, well, I knew she was the horse for me.”

“Sorta like love at first sight?”

“No. That only happened to me once.” He set down his coffee, and hers, as well. Then he kissed her again.

And kept kissing, until something got them talking once more. They spent hours cuddled on the couch that way. Intimate conversation punctuated with kisses that were carefully controlled so no lines were crossed.

Every now and then, though, Winnie would catch a heated look in Jackson's eyes. He was holding back tonight. And that was probably wise.

But part of her wished he would just let go.

* * *

J
ACKSON
LEFT
W
INNIE
'
S
apartment after midnight. He'd wanted to stay the night and was pretty sure Winnie would have let him. But he didn't want to botch this by moving too fast.

He couldn't remember ever enjoying a couple of hours more than the ones he'd just spent with her. As soon as he'd driven out of town, he rolled down the window of his truck. He didn't care about the cold winter wind. His heart was on fire and he needed to feel the fresh air against his face.

He cranked up the radio and sang along with the country tune that was playing, happy that it had a fast beat and a catchy melody. You could always count on Keith Urban for both.

The feeling of euphoria didn't last long, though. All it took was coming upon the curve in the road, and the plain white cross that marked the spot where they'd hit the moose and Brock had died, to make him sober up.

Forgive me, Brock. For being the driver when you died. For loving your girl. For living even though you can't.

* * *

A
WEEK
LATER
, Jackson prepared the farmhouse for the visit from Olive. First he swept the floors and washed the countertops. Then he put the kettle on to boil. Earlier Winnie and Bobby had driven out to pitch in. Winnie understood how important this visit was to Maddie and she wanted to help make it go as smoothly as possible.

He appreciated her thoughtfulness, especially since he'd been a little withdrawn since their date.

In his head he knew that Brock wouldn't want Winnie to grieve forever. Nor would he want his son to grow up without a father. It was just taking his heart a little longer to make the adjustment.

But it would happen eventually. It had to.

Because he couldn't imagine living without Winnie in his life.

“They're here,” Winnie called out. She was standing by the kitchen window and he went to join her.

Laurel had told Winnie that Olive would be showing up with B.J. and Corb, as well as Cassidy, for moral support. Now Jackson watched as the four of them emerged from the white SUV that Olive normally drove.

B.J. had been the driver today, though, and he ran to the passenger door to take his mother's arm and lead her along the shoveled path to the kitchen door.

Maddie had insisted that he not shovel the other path, the one that led to the front door, because
Family comes in the back.

Maddie had been on edge all day. She'd taken a shower and dressed carefully in the same nice sweater she'd worn for Thanksgiving.

She'd also made cookies, which had been an effort for her. More than once he'd seen her stop to take a rest. But when he offered to help, she shooed him away.

“This is from a secret family recipe. You can't watch.”

“You'll give me your home and all your land, but not your secret recipe for cookies?” he teased.

Maddie laughed, but she still wouldn't tell him the recipe.

Then Winnie and Bobby had arrived, early, the way he'd asked them to. He felt that Maddie would appreciate the support.

And frankly any excuse to spend time with Winnie was good by him.

“Ready, Maddie?” he asked.

“Been waiting decades for this day. Let them in. It's cold outside.”

And it was. A cold front had blown down from the Arctic a day ago, bringing temperatures that hurt the lungs if you inhaled too deeply. That cold air crept in with the Lamberts as they filed into the Turners' homey kitchen. Last in was Corb, who shut the door quickly behind himself. But still Jackson could feel the infusion of cold air as it swirled around the kitchen and then settled at their feet.

“Add some more wood to the fire, would you, Jackson?” Maddie, sitting in the chair at the far end of the table, smiled at her guests. “Welcome. All of you. And thanks for coming.”

B.J., Corb and Cassidy all stepped forward to give their aunt a hug, but Olive lingered near the door, only taking a seat when B.J. brought one of the chairs and placed it right there on the welcome mat.

Though she was trying to be circumspect, Jackson could see Olive studying the room, as well as her sister. A few times her lips trembled, but then she'd press them together. And regain control.

“Tea is ready,” Winnie announced. She filled delicate teacups that were completely at odds with the serviceable brown teapot.

For the first five minutes the younger generation dominated the conversation. But eventually Maddie cut through the nervous chatter.

“It's good to see you here, Olive.”

“I don't know why.”

“We grew up here. I remember helping you do your homework at this very table.” Maddie fingered one of the grooves in the oak. “I believe you did this when you were struggling with algebra.”

“That's past. It's your kitchen now. It's been yours for a long time.”

Maddie stifled a cough. “I'm sorry for how hard things were for you growing up. Dad took Mother's death so hard. It changed him. I don't think he meant to be so hard on you—”

“Stop.” Olive's voice was commanding, her eyes bright with a determined glint. “I didn't come to hear you justify the way you ingratiated yourself with our father, even going so far as to keep me from him during his last days on earth. You said you had something for me. Something of Mother's,” she added, her voice a touch softer.

“Yes. I found this after Dad died.” Maddie began working a ring off her baby finger. “I wanted to give it to you sooner, but—”

She didn't finish her sentence. She didn't need to, Jackson thought. Everyone in this room knew Olive would never have taken a call or accepted a visit from Maddie.

“This was our mother's wedding ring.” Maddie glanced at the small diamond ring one last time before passing it to Cassidy, who was seated next to her on the right.

Cassidy studied the ring, then passed it to Corb, who handed it to his mom.

“I often wonder how different our lives would have been had she lived,” Maddie said softly.

But Olive wasn't listening. She was holding the ring in her hand as if it was a priceless artifact. The harsh light in her eyes had softened. Even the corners of her mouth were curving upward marginally.

Maddie had worn the ring on the baby finger of her right hand, and it had taken some effort to remove, even though she'd lost quite a bit of weight lately.

Olive, however, slipped the ring easily onto her fourth finger.

It fit perfectly.

Everyone had said Olive took after her mother. Apparently they were right.

After a few seconds had passed, Olive finally addressed her sister. “Thank you. I'm very glad you decided to give me this ring rather than hand it over to Jackson, the way you're doing with the rest of our heritage.”

“Oh, Olive.”

Maddie must have been hoping the gift of their mother's ring would work a miracle on Olive. But clearly it hadn't changed a thing. Before their eyes Maddie seemed to deflate. The gray circles under her eyes became more pronounced. Her cheeks sunk even deeper.

“It's time to go.” Olive stood. She glanced at her children, expecting they would all do the same.

But they weren't even looking at her. Their eyes were on their aunt.

“I never wanted to come between you and Dad.” The words were a quiet plea, but Olive couldn't accept it.

“I'm sorry that you're sick, Maddie. But we can't change the past. B.J., are you coming or not?”

“Not, Mom.” Her eldest son passed her the car keys. “We were invited for tea. And we're staying for tea. I'm sure Savannah won't mind picking us up and giving us a lift home.”

Only B.J. would have the nerve to talk to his mother this way, Jackson thought. Well, Cassidy might, too. She was obviously firmly in support of her older brother. Only soft-hearted Corb was clearly torn. In the end he opted to stay, but only after walking his mom to the car and seeing her safely on her way.

Once her younger sister was gone, Maddie gave in to a coughing spell that went on for at least a minute. As usual, Jackson got her a glass of water, wishing there was something more helpful that he could do. He could see concern displayed on all the Lamberts' faces as they sat helplessly, waiting for the fit to pass.

And eventually it did. Maddie drank her water, then sank deeper into her chair and closed her eyes. “I should have known nothing would change.”

“Why didn't you tell Olive the truth?” Jackson asked. “You didn't keep her from your father's deathbed. He didn't want her there. She blames you for that, but it isn't fair.”

“I could never tell her that. It would only confirm what she's always known but never been able to accept. Our father didn't love her. It's awful. But it's true.”

“That is awful. But so is how Mom treated you. Especially today.” Cassidy stomped one of her feet against the planked floor. “All she wanted was that stupid ring.”

“Don't be too quick to judge,” Maddie cautioned. “You grew up with two parents who loved you. Can you imagine what it would be like to have no mother—because she'd died giving birth to you? And to have a father who hated you for that very reason?”

Jackson figured he was closer to being able to imagine that scenario than any of the Lamberts, or Winnie. But at least he'd had his mother when he was younger.

It seemed that Olive had had no one. Except the sister she wouldn't let herself love.

* * *

H
ALF
AN
HOUR
later, Savannah drove up in her sheriff's SUV and collected B.J., Corb and Cassidy. Maddie was sleeping in her reclining chair in the sitting room, with Bobby napping on the quilt nearby.