Heart Of A Cowboy (16 page)

He came around and opened her door. “Ready?”

She climbed down and pocketed his keys. “I wish it was warmer. We could have gone swimming like that one time.”

“This would be a fun place to bring Nicholas, especially next summer.”

“Once he learns to swim.”

Halting, Zachary rotated toward her, both eyebrows raised. “He doesn't know how to swim?”

She shook her head. “He was sick for a long time. We didn't have access to a pool in South Carolina. I lived in a little house, but there was no neighborhood pool.”

He started forward. “Well, that's gonna change. He
might not always swim in a pool here, but places like this are great in the summer.”

“Up until a couple of years ago, he didn't have the energy or desire. Now Nicholas is wanting to do all he's been missing.”

“Like learning to ride?”

“Yep. That was top on his list when we moved here.”

Looking back seven weeks, she wondered if her sister had told her the ranch she was sending her to was owned by Zachary if she would have come that day. Probably not. Actually, definitely not. But now she saw where the Lord was leading her. She needed to make amends to Zachary and bring them together as a family—at least Nicholas and his father, if not her, too. This outing renewed her hope it was possible.

“There's still so much I want to know about Nicholas.” Zachary set the basket down on the ground under a large oak tree near the waterfall.

The sound of its water pouring over the rocks above and crashing down into the pool echoed through the small glade and faded into the woods that surrounded the place. Sunlight dappled the glittering surface like sparkling diamonds strewn across a pale blue carpet. The scent of pine and earth hung in the air.

Jordan opened the basket and withdrew the blanket. As she spread it under the oak, she gestured toward the manila envelope. “I suggest you read his essay as a start.”

Stretching out on the blanket, he withdrew the papers and began reading. Intense concentration creased his forehead. Then slowly his expression went from surprise to awe.

When he finished, he peered at her sitting next to him. “He thinks the cowboy is the epitome of what this country stands for. He even draws parallels between the jousting
of knights in medieval times to the contestants in a rodeo, competing for the prize. A lot of thought went into this.”

“It's a tribute to you. He watched hours of videotape, mostly of you, before he wrote this. I didn't help him hardly at all, which is most unusual when he writes.”

Zachary swallowed hard. “I didn't know he was doing this. He asked me some questions this past week about what I did, how I felt, but I just thought it was his curiosity.”

“He wanted to understand what drove you to risk your life each time you got on the back of a bull.”

“He obviously listens well.”

“Until I read this last night, I didn't have a clue why you did it.”

“‘The thrill and adrenaline rush is unbelievable, but what really got me back on a two-thousand-pound, bucking bull each time was the faith of totally putting myself in God's hands' was the answer three-time world champion Zachary Rutgers stated when asked why he was a bull rider.” Zachary lifted his gaze from the essay to look into her eyes. “That was my answer word for word and he didn't even write it down. Amazing.”

She smiled. “Yes, Nicholas is amazing.”

“Tell me about his heart defect, his surgery. I know you've told me some, but that had to be such a difficult time for both of you. I need to understand like you and Nicholas did about my bull riding.”

“When he started school, Nicholas caught everything. He was always sick—small for his age. Finally our family physician diagnosed Nicholas with atrial septal defect. Usually it's repaired with a catheter. Nicholas got one, but then it became infected. He almost died. He was put on long-term antibiotics, lots of blood work, doctors. The catheter had to be removed and repaired surgically. All of this took a toll on Nicholas.”

“And not you?”

Thinking back to that time brought a rush of memories of the hospital, long hours of doubt if Nicholas would be all right, sleepless nights, worry, prayers, tears. Her stomach still clenched anytime she visited someone in a hospital and got a whiff of that antiseptic scent. “Once Nicholas started recovering, I was fine.”

Zachary clasped her palm. “You were? You're still scared for him and try to protect him.”

She yanked her hand away. “What you really mean is that I'm overprotective.”

He indicated an inch with his forefinger and thumb. “Maybe a little. The doctor said he is fine now. As I've said, a boy has to have breathing room.”

“And guidance.”

“Are you ready for him to compete in the HHH Junior Rodeo competition?”

“Barrel racing?”

“Yes, that's one thing.”

“Do you really think he's ready?”

“I was doing what he's doing at six.”

“And look what happened to you.” She pulled her legs up and clasped them to her chest.

He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I survived, and I'm now doing something else I wanted to do—raising horses.” Rubbing his hands together, he grinned. “I don't know about you, but I'm starving. What do we have for lunch?”

“A couple of your favorites. Or at least they used to be.” Jordan scooted toward the basket and dug inside, bringing the first container out. “Fried chicken, extra crispy. Then I have a cucumber-tomato salad as well as a pasta one, slices of homemade bread and butter and for dessert peach cobbler.”

Zachary peeked beneath the foil at the chicken and picked up several pieces. “Don't tell Nicholas how much I love this.”

“Oh, he knows. He helped me with this lunch.”

“I still can't believe I have a son who is a vegetarian.”

“He isn't your usual child.”

“I'm discovering that every time I'm with him.” He finished loading his paper plate with the various dishes.

After she selected what she wanted to eat, she bowed her head and blessed the food. “Dig in. What you don't eat you can take home with you if you want.”

Several bites later, he looked straight at her and said, “A guy sure could get used to food like this. This is delicious.”

“You can thank Granny for teaching me how to cook.”

“I'll do that. Your grandmother is quite a character. How are she and Doug getting along?” He took a sip of his bottled water.

“According to my mother, too well. She thinks Granny is too old to carry on like a twenty-year-old.”

“Your mom doesn't want to see your grandmother with a man?”

“I think she's jealous. She's been divorced for more than twenty years and has dated off and on over the years, but she never has found anyone who interested her. Lately she has declared she isn't going to date anymore. She loves her life like it is.”

“And you don't believe her?”

“Nope and neither does Rachel. My sister has even tried to fix her up with a couple of older men who were friends of her husband's. It didn't work out. Rachel has decided matchmaking isn't for her.”

“Contrary to a certain grandmother and young boy.”

Again Zachary's gaze snagged hers from across the blanket and held her linked to him. She swallowed her bite of salad past the lump in her throat. The intensity in his eyes heated her cheeks. For a moment she felt as though she were the most important person in his life. The warmth from her blush spread through her body.

“They don't seem to be too bad lately,” she murmured, wetting her dry lips.

“Maybe they've given up on us.”

“Maybe.” Was there any hope for them? Had Nicholas and Granny realized there wasn't? “But I have to warn you, usually Nicholas is relentless and determined when he is after something. It's those qualities that helped him through his illness. He rarely cried when he was hurting. He was so brave.” Tears sprang into her eyes when she thought back over that time, the pain he was going through evident on his face even though he tried to mask it. She closed her eyes, a wet drop dripping out and coursing down her face.

Zachary leaned close, wiped his thumb across her cheek, then cupped the back of her neck to draw her nearer. “You aren't by yourself with Nicholas anymore. I'm here to help.”

His murmured words spoken into her hair as he hugged her against his chest made her almost believe there was a chance for her and Zachary. Then she remembered the invisible barrier always in place even when he held her close. As though he kept a small part of himself from her and that no matter what she did that wouldn't change.

With his thumb under her chin, he raised it so she stared into his eyes. “You've done a great job with Nicholas.”

The compliment washed over her. She snuggled closer, wanting so much more than Zachary was willing to share. And it was her fault the situation was like that.

“If I could change what happened eleven—”

He settled his mouth over hers, stealing the rest of her sentence. For that brief moment when his lips connected with hers, all her doubts fled. Only possibilities lay ahead. Her heartbeat kicked up a notch, matching the faster tempo of his that she felt against his chest.

When he moved back, framing her face in his hands, his dazed expression vanished to be replaced with uncertainty, his eyebrows slashing downward, his gaze narrowing. “I shouldn't have done that. It only complicates things.”

He surged to his feet and stuck his hands into his front pockets. “I'm sorry. That won't happen again.” Striding away, he headed for the pool and stood on its edge, staring at the waterfall.

Jordan curled her legs up against her body, hugging them to her and laying her forehead on her knees. She'd crashed from a high plateau into a bottomless pit. Just as she thought she might be breaking down the barrier between them, Zachary pulled back and erected the wall even higher.

W
hat had he been thinking? Kissing Jordan like that? Zachary plowed his hand through his hair, trying to bring order to his reeling thoughts. Today as she'd talked about Nicholas being in the hospital and having surgery, all he could think about was he should have been there. Then he saw her tears and all common sense evaporated.

As he listened to the creek plunging into the pool from above, the sound calmed him enough to turn back toward Jordan and cover the space between them. She'd put away the food except the peach cobbler and had a sketch pad out. Her head bent over the sheet, he couldn't see what she was drawing until she peered up at him. A shadow darkened her eyes and constricted his gut.

Lord, how do I maintain my distance from her and stay on friendly terms for Nicholas's sake? I'm not doing a good job of it. I've hurt her. And I don't like that.

“I shouldn't have kissed you.” He eased down on the blanket at the other end from her.

“Then why did you?”

He waved his arm around the glade. “This place. Isn't
that why you brought me here? To have me remember how it once was between us?”

She stared at her sketch pad with the beginnings of a portrait of him. “Yes,” she whispered, a raw edge to the word. When she reestablished visual contact with him, the shadow was gone. “But you don't need to worry about me doing anything like this again.”

“I owe you an explanation.”

“Isn't it obvious you can't forgive me?”

He ignored her question and said instead, “I never told you everything about my accident that ended my career as a bull rider.”

“I saw it on the video. Nicholas showed it to me.”

He sucked in a ragged breath. “I've never brought myself to watch it, but it's out there on the Internet for the whole world to see.” A sharp pain, as if he felt the hooves of the bull all over again, pierced him. “Like Nicholas I suffered from an infection. The trampling caused mine. I've been left with a limp, twinges that remind me of the accident, especially when the weather changes, and I can't have kids. Nicholas will be my only child.”

“No children?”

“The scar tissue was extensive.” He severed eye contact with her. “When my fiancée found out the extent of my injury, she hightailed it out of my life.”

“I'm sorry, Zachary.”

“You should have more kids. You're a good mother. I know you've always wanted more than one.”

“That's why you pulled away?”

“Part of the reason. Our time together as a couple is over. Has been for years.”
Don't pursue this. You need more than I can offer.
He flicked his hand toward the pad. “I see you're still drawing.”

She peered at him for a long moment as though deciding
whether to continue the conversation or not. “I don't do it as much as I used to. I'm trying to get back into it again.”

He released a breath he didn't even realize he was holding until she dropped the subject of why they weren't suited together. “I'm glad. You were always so good. Can I see that?”

She flipped the lid over the drawing. “I'm not through. I'll show you when I am. How about some peach cobbler?”

“You know I'll never pass up one of your desserts.” As she dished up his portion, he added, “Nicholas has been wanting me to take him to a rodeo. There's one next Friday in Bartlesville. I'd like to take him then. It'll be our guys' night out.”

Her mouth tightened. “Sure.”

“I promise I won't try and get him to pursue anything having to do with the rodeo.”

“Next weekend will be a big one with the rodeo on Friday and HHH Junior Rodeo on Saturday.”

He took a bite of the cobbler, the dessert melting in his mouth with just the right sweetness. “Mmm. This is great.” After another scoop of it, he said, “I'll have Nicholas spend the night Friday and he can help me the next morning get ready for HHH Junior Rodeo.”

“I'll be there early. I signed up to help set up the activities.”

“Then come early and have breakfast with Nicholas and me. I'm sure he'll want to tell you all about the rodeo.”

“Is that your roundabout way of asking me to fix breakfast for you two?”

“No, if you don't mind having cold cereal.” He really did need to learn to cook now that he had a child part of the time. He still had a long way to go to be the father he wanted to be. He hated playing catch-up, especially with something so important as his son.

 

Jordan parked in front of Zachary's house early Saturday morning, just hours before the ranch would be crowded with families from the Helping Hands Homeschooling group participating in the HHH Junior Rodeo. Sitting and staring at the front porch, she couldn't bring herself to move from the car. When Zachary had picked Nicholas up yesterday afternoon to attend the rodeo, she'd wanted to go with them. She'd almost said something to them as they left. But then Zachary's words about it being their guys' night out stopped her. She swallowed the request, a heaviness in the pit of her stomach.

She was elated that her son and his father were bonding, spending time doing special activities. But she couldn't help feeling left out. The times all three of them had spent together made her want even more a complete family—a mother, father and child. Children, actually.

Zachary, though, couldn't have any more kids. His revelation had stunned her, but did it make any difference in the long run? Did it change her feelings about him? No, she wasn't like his ex-fiancée. She loved him no matter what, but at the waterfalls, he'd hammered home where they stood. Friends only—and then that only because of Nicholas.

His silence when she'd asked him if he'd forgiven her had been her answer. He couldn't get past what had happened eleven years ago. When he looked at her, he still saw her betrayal—like his fiancée's. Nothing she did would change that. It really wasn't because she deserved to have more children. Nothing he said really made her feel any differently.

He might as well have shouted it from the cliff surrounding the pool. She and Zachary would share Nicholas like a divorced couple. She had to move on.

Would her son begin to prefer his father's company to hers? Would she lose her child to Zachary? She hated thinking like that, but suddenly she felt in a competition for Nicholas's love.

The front door flew open, and her son ran out of the house, a grin plastered all over his face. By the time he'd reached the car, Jordan stood and grabbed the bag of groceries for breakfast.

“You're up early. Did you sleep any last night?” she asked Nicholas, who hugged her. She closed her eyes and relished the feel of his arms around her. How long would this last?

He walked next to her toward the house. “Nope. Too excited. Especially after seeing what real cowboys do.”

“So you enjoyed seeing your first rodeo?'

“Yep.” He hooked his thumbs into his jeans pockets. “One day I'm going to be as good at roping as Dad.”

“Where is your dad?”

“He's trying to fix breakfast.”

“He is? I thought I would cook for you two.”

“He muttered something about having to learn. He called Aunt Becca and got some instructions, but I don't think he has the hang of it.”

“Why?”

“You'll see.” He tugged her toward the entrance.

The second she stepped into the house she knew why her son had said that. A burning smell drifted from the kitchen. “What's he making?”

“Pancakes. He used a box mix, but it isn't working very well.”

“You think?” she said with a laugh and headed toward the back.

When she entered the kitchen, gray smoke poured from the skillet on the stove. On the counter sat a cookie
sheet with burnt toast on it. Zachary snatched the frying pan off the burner and dumped its contents into the sink then turned the cold water on. A sizzling sound filled the silence, and steam bellowed from the skillet.

He whirled around. When he saw her, relief flooded his features. “I pulled the toast out of the oven and buttered the other side, then stuck it back in. That's when the pancakes I put on were getting a little too brown, so I flipped them. Thankfully they still looked edible. But everything after that went downhill. I was pouring the juice when I smelled the toast burning. Just as I took the pan out, the pancakes…” He waved his hand toward the sink. “All I want to know is how in the world do you coordinate putting a meal on the table with everything done at the right time?”

“Practice.” She tried to contain her smile but couldn't.

“Yeah, like roping, Dad.”

“So I get to look forward to more of these types of disasters?”

“Maybe you should take it in stages. One dish at a time.”

He blew out a breath. “We'd starve at that rate.”

“I'll clean this up and make some omelets. You can fix the toast while I do that.” She opened the oven. “For starters you need to lower the rack so it's not so near the broiler.” Taking the oven mitts, she adjusted it for Zachary. “That should help it not brown so quickly.” She spun around. “Or better yet, buy a toaster. Much easier. You put it on a setting and leave the work to it.”

“Can I help?” Nicholas asked.

“You can set the table.” Jordan withdrew a mug from the cabinet, poured some coffee and took a sip. “Not too bad.”

“I did something right.”

Zachary's smile renewed the dreams she had about being a family. She quickly shoved them away. She needed to protect herself from getting hurt any more than she already was.
Friends only.

 

Jordan sat across from Zachary later that afternoon at a picnic table under a pecan tree. All the races and competition had been completed half an hour ago, and Nicholas had come in third in the barrel race. In his roping demonstration he'd managed to land his lasso around the sawhorse twice as he rode by it. When her son competed in the sheep race, she'd laughed so hard her sides had hurt. Nicholas didn't have one problem in his events and the grin on his face had made it all worth it.

Lifting a bottle, she took a swig of water. A sigh escaped her lips as she relaxed for the first time in hours. “It's a good thing we only do this once a year. It's a lot of work putting this on.”

Becca joined her and Zachary, sliding in next to her brother on the bench. “I heard Nancy and some of the others talking about doing this in the spring and fall. Everyone has had so much fun.”

Zachary groaned.

“I'll do more next time. And Paul,” Becca quickly said. “The ranch is a perfect place for it.”

“I don't know about that. It may take me that long to recuperate from this one.”

“Jordan and I did the food. You just had to organize the races.”

“And line up all the animals. The sheep alone weren't easy to find.” Zachary pressed his lips together.

Becca opened her mouth to say something, looked hard at her brother and frowned instead.

“Also think of all the extra lessons I had to give. I had
to make sure people knew what they were doing. Riding a sheep isn't like riding a horse.” A gleam sparkled in his eyes as he winked at Jordan.

Becca playfully punched her brother in the arm. “I knew it. You've had a great time. So can I tell Nancy it's a yes for next April or May?”

“I won't hear the end of it if I say no, especially from my son. So yes.”

“Great. That's all I needed to know.” Becca hopped up and headed off toward a group of people by the barn.

“Are you one of those brothers who relished making his sister's life miserable when you two were growing up?”

“Isn't that what a little brother is for?”

“I wouldn't know. All I had is a big sis like you.”

Nicholas ran across the yard toward them.

“I'd like Nicholas to stay over again tonight. We decided to lie out in the pasture where there are no city lights and study the stars. See how many we can count.”

Spend the night again? If she wasn't homeschooling her son, she would never see him anymore.

Nicholas skidded to a stop at the end of the picnic table. “We're going to be in the field.” He waved his hand toward an empty pasture to the left. “Some of the guys are putting together a touch football game, and I'm going to play.”

Football?
Until her son had gotten to know his father, he hadn't wanted anything to do with the sport, and she'd been thrilled by that. “Hon, you've never played before. I think you should sit this one out.”

“But I want to play. I'm going to be on Randy's team. If I don't play, the sides won't be equal.”

Jordan glanced from Nicholas to some of the larger boys gathering near the field her son indicated. He and Becca's oldest son were the smallest two on the teams. “I don't think so.”

“Dad?” Nicholas glued his attention on Zachary. “Touch football isn't like regular football. I'll be okay. Tell Mom that.”

Zachary looked toward Jordan. “There's no tackling in touch football. It's mostly running and trying to evade the opposing player. Nicholas would be good at that. He's pretty quick.”

“Yeah, Mom, remember how well I did when we played soccer?”

“They aren't the same.”

“Please.” Nicholas wore his puppy-dog look.

Rising, she glared at Zachary. “Can we have a word?” She walked a few steps away from the picnic table and turned her back on Nicholas. When Zachary joined her, she lowered her voice. “He isn't equipped to play something like football, even touch football.”

“Quit smothering
our
son. Other kids play and are perfectly fine. I used to play and there were no broken bones.”

“I don't like this.”

“What? The football or me having a say in what our son does?”