It Had to Be You (43 page)

And Jake hadn’t been forced out, either, he assured himself. At least not yet. But his shoulder twitched and so did something deep inside. Knowing damn well it was the denial and fear, the same feelings that haunted his dreams at night, he walked faster, but there was no running from such dark emotions. They followed him everywhere.

The sun hadn’t yet risen. He put one foot on the grass and, predictably, Goose came running. Jake lifted his foot off and she skidded to a stop in front of him, guarding, waiting for him to make a move.

“What do you do, have hate meetings with Moe?” he asked. He could almost see his father in the damn goose’s dark gaze.
Look at what I built without you. Look at what you wanted no part of. Look at what I left you to screw up.…

He turned his back on the damn goose. Tucker was in the pasture doing something with the horses there. He could see his blue silhouette as the first sunbeams flashed over the rocky, bushy mountains like flames. He hadn’t asked anyone if that was how the ranch had gotten its name, and that bothered him. Suddenly he wanted to know, not that Tucker would tell him. Shivering in the chilly air, he kept walking. Voices came out of the barn, Stone’s and Eddie’s. The sun rose quickly now. Way out beyond the pasture, coming in from the hills like the opening credits of a western, was a horse and rider.

Even knowing it was Callie riding, Jake still wished he could switch the channel and find a good basketball game instead.

Goose let out a honk, probably to a bird who dared land on her precious grass, but Jake figured the sound for his father’s spirit, laughing at him.

His stomach rumbled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten dinner last night. Between Callie getting stuck in the shed and him hurting his shoulder and his subsequent massage, he’d missed the barbeque, and his mouth watered at the thought. The food had been surprisingly good out here but, damn, he missed drive-thrus. He missed Starbucks. He missed jelly-filled donuts on the way to his shift at the firehouse.

And that wasn’t all. He missed surfing on lazy mornings. He missed the roar of the waves. He missed the green rolling hills.

Beneath his feet he could feel the vibration of Sierra galloping closer. Callie wore her cowboy hat, long, red hair streaming out behind her as she effortlessly rode the rough terrain.

He’d never known a woman like her. She was tough yet soft, sweet yet hard. A challenge through and through. She rode Sierra in, slowed her down.

Sierra didn’t like slowing down. Still raring to go, she trotted around, tossing her head, snorting her displeasure at having to stop. “Shh,” Callie soothed, and looked at Jake. “You going to try to rescue me again?”

“Nope.”

“Did the massage help?”

“Yep.”

Sierra snorted again, then nudged Jake’s chest with her nose.

“Sierra, stop it.” Callie swung a leg over and hopped down. Hair a little wild, hat hanging down her back now, she stroked the horse’s long neck. “She thinks all men around here carry treats.”

“Guess she doesn’t realize I’m not really one of you.”

Callie stopped petting the horse for one telling moment. “Maybe it’s not her who thinks you’re not. Maybe it’s you.”

He looked at her, and she looked right back, silently daring him to say otherwise, but damn if she wasn’t right, not that he’d admit it.

Eddie stuck his head out of the barn. “Could use some help this morning. Shep’s girlfriend won’t let me into the tack room again.”

“Tiger?”

“Don’t tell me the old guy has more than one girlfriend.”

Callie looked relieved not to have it be more serious, and grabbed Sierra’s reins.

“What are you going to do, go get yourself bitten?” Jake asked.

“Hopefully not.”

Jake let out a breath. “I’ll go.”

“So you are going to rescue me again after all.”

“Looks like it.”

C
allie decided to let Eddie and Jake deal with Tiger so that she could walk through the corral and visit the horses, spending a few minutes with each of them. Patches, one of their older mares, was limping, and Callie checked her hooves. “There,” she soothed, picking out a little pebble. “That’ll be better.”

And so was she for not having to spend the time with Jake. Jake with the haunting eyes and sexy body that she couldn’t stop dreaming of. Patches turned her head and eyed the young woman walking toward them. Amy came to a stop at the fencing with her black jeans, black boots, black hair spiked straight up, her face carefully blank.

Her expression reminded Callie of Tucker, and how he’d looked his first few months on the ranch, so desperately needing to be cool, and yet just as desperate for acceptance. “Hey.” She added a smile to see if the girl would smile back. She didn’t. “Everything okay in the kitchen?”

“Yeah.” Amy shifted her feet. “I saw you out the window. I, uh, got breakfast ready early so I could come talk to you.”

“Sure.” She saw Tucker watching them from across the yard, and then he started toward them. Amy saw him, then let out a slow, tense breath. “Is something wrong?” Callie asked her.

Amy wiped her hands on her apron, then shoved them in her back pockets. “I didn’t take your money,” she said. “But I’ll leave if you want me to.”

“No.” Tucker had come close. “You’re not going anywhere, not like this.”

“Of course she’s not going anywhere.” Callie stuck the hoof pick in her back pocket and moved toward the fence. She hooked her hands in it and climbed over. “Amy, did anyone here act like they thought you stole money?”

Tucker made a sound low in his throat. “No one would.”

“No,” Amy admitted. “They didn’t.”

“Did someone ask you to leave?”

“No.”

Callie looked at Tucker, then back to Amy. She’d tried softness, she’d tried compassion and understanding. What else could she do?

Tucker still stood there, his fists clenched, ready to take on the world for this girl, and it was just romantic enough to make Callie sigh. She didn’t believe Amy to be behind the ranch’s problems; she never had. She’d hoped to chalk it all up to strange coincidence, or bad luck, but she wasn’t that naïve. Someone
was
responsible, and as far as the law or the sheriff went, Amy was a strong suspect. “If no one’s accused you, and no one’s asked you to leave, then why are you out here wasting both of our time?”

Amy stopped looking at her boots and met Callie’s gaze. “I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it.”

“I already know that.”

Amy blinked, looking so confused she broke Callie’s heart. “How?”

“Because you’re a part of us now,” Tucker said simply.

“And because I figure a thief wouldn’t stick around beating herself up about what people think of her,” Callie said. “A thief certainly wouldn’t ask me if I thought she’d done it, and a thief wouldn’t be standing here right now trying to get me to fire her.”

“I don’t want to be fired.”

“Good. Because you’re not.”

Amy stared at her for a long moment, and then her lips curved. Before the smile fully formed, she covered her mouth. “I’ve…got to get back to the kitchen.”

“Sure, but Amy? The smiling thing? Keep that. It looks good on you.”

“Yeah,” Tucker agreed inanely, nodding, looking a little cupid-struck.

Amy’s smile spread, and then she whirled and ran all the way back to the house.

Callie watched Tucker watch Amy. “Something going on with you two?”

“Are you kidding? She won’t let me within five feet of her.”

She eyed the longing on his face. “But you’d like there to be something going on.”

He lifted a shoulder, the casual gesture belying the expression of yearning on his face.

As the days passed, Jake found himself far more active at the ranch than he ever intended, due to Stone taking off for some unexpected personal time.

Jake got more up front and personal with the pigs, hens, cows, and horses than he’d ever intended. Each day he finished work exhausted and filthy. Not all that different from firefighting, really, but when he fought fires, he didn’t also smell like a manure.

That, apparently, was just a little bonus.

Callie kept mum about Stone’s disappearance, which didn’t seem to sit well with the others. After lunch one day, he heard angry voices coming out of the barn.

“He’s my own brother, damn it.” This from Eddie.

“You think I’ve forgotten that?” Callie asked, an octave above polite.

Jake moved to the doorway to see what was up. Eddie’s jaw was bunched, his eyes desperate. “You can tell me what’s wrong,” he said to Callie. “
Please
tell me what’s wrong.”

Her regret and sorrow conveyed in every line of her taut body, she shook her head. “I promised. Eddie, I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone, including you.”

“Callie—”

“Don’t make me say it again. I’m sorry for it, but that’s the end of it. Now leave it.”

Jake stepped closer for support, but Eddie did drop it. The tension remained though, between all of them. Worse, they were still short-handed because Jake couldn’t lead expeditions or do anything that required actual skill.

Their weekend guests—nine sisters, there for fun without their individual families—had signed up for a two-day trek, complete with tents, no electricity, and no beds.

Jake’s personal nightmare, but Tucker eyed him. “You’re in. You’re joining the misfit posse.”

“No way,” Jake said.

“Yes way. We need you.”

“Callie shouldn’t stay alone for two days,” Jake said, quite pleased with what he thought was a brilliant excuse.

Unfortunately Callie heard him, and came close. “What did you just say?”

“You shouldn’t be here alone.”

Tucker winced. “Dude, not a good idea—”

“I take care of myself,” Callie said in a glacial tone.

Tucker shot him a
tried-to-tell-you
look.

“I’m not questioning your ability to take care of yourself,” Jake said, exasperated. “I’m just saying there’s been a lot of goings on, and I don’t want you alone.”

“I have Amy.”

“Great.
Two
women.”

Even Eddie winced at that one.

Callie narrowed her eyes. “Marge and Lou will be around as well, and I can always call for help. Michael would come in a heartbeat, and anyway, you’ll be on a radio. Have fun camping, Jake.”

Have
fun
? Not a chance in hell.

Jake figured Eddie and Tucker had made him go on the trip because they needed a good laugh, but it turned out they really did need three men to handle all the horses, not to mention the rambunctious, flirty, over-the-top sisters, who ranged in age from nineteen to forty-two and turned out to be more wild than the cheerleaders.

For some reason Jake had decided to try to ride Moe instead of Molly. The big rugged tan horse drew him, mostly because he seemed to like everyone but Jake, but also because it was a connection to his father. He wouldn’t have admitted that he needed that connection, but he did.

Moe did let him grab ahold of his reins, and even waited quietly until Jake had pulled himself up and seated himself.

Then he bucked.

“Whoa,
whoa.
” Tucker ran over, soothing the animal with such ease that Jake just gritted his teeth and got down.

“You crazy?” Tucker asked Jake.

“Yeah.” Moe seemed to smile at him as he stalked off to get Molly.

He got on the quieter horse, and half an hour into the ride, they’d entered a vertical labyrinth from which they could see at least fifty miles in all directions. Clear springs seeped from narrow canyons, falling from hillsides alive with mesquite and piñons and yuccas. Tucker came up close on Homer, then jerked his head to the sharp drop-off edge, marked by a series of high, jagged rocks that seemed to point to the sky. “Richard’s Peak. It was his favorite place.”

Jake slowed and took it all in, from the maze of rock formations to the incredible view. He tried to imagine his father standing on this very spot—it wasn’t hard.

“It’s where we came to spread his ashes,” Tucker said. “Remember, you left the morning after the service? We all came out here that afternoon.”

Jake looked out into the valley below and waited, desperate to feel something, anything, other than an aching emptiness and sadness for not feeling more. “What am I supposed to say? Sorry?”

“Not to me.”

He opened his mouth to tell Tucker what he’d told Callie, that the street between Richard and Jake had gone two ways, but suddenly that seemed like an excuse. Maybe Richard hadn’t made a move, but Jake could have. If for nothing else than to get rid of all this useless regret and loss.

They stopped before sunset to make camp. Jake looked at the hard, wide open land and wished for a bed. Eddie set up the tents, smiling and flirting with their guests when they all jumped in to help him, but Jake knew him now, and for the first time, Eddie’s easy-going nature was forced.

“It’s Stone,” Tucker told him quietly as they set up a barbeque pit, gathering large stones to make a circle. “He misses his brother.”

Because that sounded a little like an accusation, Jake picked up a larger rock than he’d intended.

“Christ, don’t even try to help if you’re going to go all pale and pretend your shoulder isn’t killing you,” Tucker said, disgusted.

“It’s not killing me.” There were degrees of pain, as he’d learned all too well. On a scale of one to ten, he was only at a six, and that was saying something. And actually, so was the fact that Tucker had noticed his pain at all, and without a derogatory comment. “Can’t Eddie just call Stone’s cell?”

“Stone isn’t answering. Now Eddie’s all bent that Stone didn’t tell anyone but Callie where he is. He’s worried.”

And clearly, so was Tucker. “You guys are all pretty close.”

“We’re family,” Tucker said simply, and lit the fire.

And you’re not.
That message had been loud and clear in the past, but he’d thought today the lines between the ranch and himself had finally seemed to blur somewhat. Tucker, while not overwhelmingly friendly by any means, had seemed to lose at least some of his antagonism.

Great timing. He’d finally softened, and Jake had spoken to his Realtor only yesterday, who’d assured him she could sell the ranch quickly.

He’d lived for that, and yet the truth was, he could have gone back to San Diego without waiting for the sale. He could take care of himself now, and while work was still out of the question, surely the media frenzy had died down.

But he hadn’t gone anywhere. Learning to fit into this group of self-titled misfits no longer seemed so bad. Especially since at the moment no one wore the title of
misfit
better than he.

Tucker nodded in satisfaction at his blazing fire, then pulled out a sheet of paper filled with neat, precise handwriting. He read some of it and swore. “She should have come out herself, damn it. I’m not going to peel the cucumbers in little strips. And what the hell does she mean, toss the salad? We shouldn’t even be having salad, that’s not camping food.”

“It is for women,” Jake said.

Tucker’s head whipped up, eyes lit with ready attitude, but then he caught the teasing light in Jake’s eyes and let out what was the closest thing to a laugh that he was going to get. “Yeah, I guess.”

Across the fire near the tents, Eddie had some of the women all over him while he put the gear into the shelters. The rest were waiting to jump on his every whim.

“Why aren’t you joining him?” Jake asked Tucker. “That must be one of the benefits, right? Beautiful guests? Harmless flirting?”

Tucker was still reading his directions and muttering. “It’s complicated.”

“You mean it’s a woman complicated.
Amy
complicated.”

“Aren’t they all?”

“Every single last one,” Jake said fervently.

Tucker lifted his narrowed gaze and studied him. “You’re not having women trouble, not here,” he said flatly. “Tell me you’re not. Because there’s only Callie, and since you’re leaving, there’d be nothing about her giving you trouble, nothing at all.”

“Tucker—”

“You’re painting. You’re selling us out. And then you’re leaving. In that order. Remember?”

“I’m not selling you out. I can’t keep the ranch, I can’t—”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard this story, so save it.” He shoved Amy’s long note in his pocket and stalked off.

They didn’t talk again, other than to communicate about what needed to be done. Callie checked in regularly by radio with Tucker, though she didn’t talk to Jake.

Had he actually thought he might be fitting in? He’d been dreaming. That night and the next, Jake dealt with rocks beneath his sleeping bag, clinging women, and more bugs than he’d ever seen. Thankfully he lived, and two mornings later they finally rode out.

By that time, Jake couldn’t remember why he was still there. He missed hot water and a bed, and it was likely his butt would never be the same after all those hours in the saddle.

All he wanted was a plane ticket home, whether he could be a firefighter or not, whether he’d sold the ranch or not.

Then they rode back onto the ranch, and he saw Callie standing on the porch of the big house. She wore her usual jeans and tank with a blouse layered over it. No hat today, which left her fiery hair blowing around her face and shoulders. She stood tall and proud, and just looking at her filled him with a longing he didn’t fully understand.

And suddenly the plane ride took a backseat to being with her.

She saw him, he was certain of it, yet she didn’t react. Undeterred, he dismounted, threw the reins to Eddie, then strode forward. He took Callie’s arm and pulled her off the steps. “Two things.”

She looked around, making sure they were alone, which frankly, he didn’t care about. The guests had gone inside with Amy to pack up for their departure, and Eddie and Tucker weren’t paying either of them any notice.

“Forget everyone else,” he said. “First, I’m never camping again.”

“That’s a shame since you’re finally walking like a cowboy.”