Second Chance Ranch (17 page)

Zac nodded, relieved one of his parents grasped the situation. “Yes, ma’am. She made it plain that no one realized the confusion in ownership until she unearthed the title. She did a search on it to see if they’d filed a deed in any other county in Colorado, but nothing came up.” He dipped his chin, the words bitter on his tongue. “Looks like you’re the proud owners of the entire, original Circle D settlement.”

Martin propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his hands. “No, we’re not, Isaac. You of all people should know what an accounting nightmare incorporating the Trails’ End back into the Circle D would be. We’d be digging up records so far back, a few of those years could’ve been written on scrolls.”

“Dad--” Zac began.

His gaze bore into Zac. “You know what I’m getting at. I want none of it. I was perfectly content with the way that gambling story ended and the Eklunds have been good to the place. But you’ve been on a crusade over that property ever since you heard the tale told ‘round the campfire. You romanticized Jeb Davidson gambling the place away, and have been scheming ever since to win it back.” He popped another piece of walnut in his mouth and chewed. “I thank the good Lord every day you turned your brain for numbers in a respectable direction instead of figuring a winning hand with aces high.”

Martin sat back in his chair, his expression softening as he took a breath. “I remember you used to pester the daylights out of Arthur Eklund about the history of each building, or an estimate of how many fish were in the stream, or later, how many head of cattle he thought the pastures could sustain. Ol’ Arthur had the patience of a saint when it came to all you kids. Jennifer had latched on to him, too. Probably saw him as the grandfather she never remembered. Either way, for the hermit Arthur claimed to be, you’d never know it for the number of kids that traipsed on and off of his land.”

“I never assessed the property.” Heat tinged the edges of his ears. “I was over there to see Jess.”

Shaking his head, Martin chuckled. “You and Jess Eklund and Kade O’Reilly. What a sorry bunch.”

“Hey.” The conversation was veering off the intended path. Zac tried to steer it back on course. “Dad, Kade and I worked hard. We practiced roping almost every night. We were top ranked on the high school circuit. But that has nothing to do with the Trails’ End.”

Scratching his grizzled chin, he elbowed his wife. “They’re claiming work, Gracie? Is that what it looked like? All that fancy riding and trick roping in the corral with pretty little Jennifer sitting on the top rail cheering you on. I know she clung to Kade like a newborn calf to a heifer after her mom died. But I think she laid claim on more than just her brother’s attention.”

Zac sat up in his chair and re-crossed his booted feet at the ankles. “She had no choice. Doc O’Reilly worked late. She hung around with us because she had to stay with Kade.”

“Uh-huh,” Martin agreed. “Until Jess Eklund ripped up the drive on his motorcycle. That boy showed up and all of a sudden you and Kade couldn’t cool down horses fast enough.” Martin squinted at him. “If memory serves right, you and Kade took off with Jess every time and never took Jen.”

Zac looked at his mom, her attention flitting from him to his dad. He didn’t really want to discuss this right now. He looked back at his dad and found no quarter. “Jess’s plans weren’t always…well, they didn’t really fit….” Zac ground his teeth over exactly how much to say. Jess had a wild streak a mile long back in the day. “The plans Jess came up with didn’t include us taking a girl.”

“So, if Jen didn’t really need Kade, I wonder why she hung around here?”

Zac stopped in mid-memory. He’d never thought of it that way. Jen never put up a fuss or demanded to come with them. Kade would give her a hug, and then the three of them went to whatever party Jess had caught wind of. Zac never gave a thought to what Jen did after they left. Maybe he should’ve.

He focused on his folks staring at him and knew he needed out of this conversation. “Dad, the ranch isn’t mine.”

“If Frannie Pollard says it’s still in the hands of the Davidsons, you can take that as truth,” Grace proclaimed. “That woman takes pride in what she does and wouldn’t have brought it up to you if she wasn’t certain. Especially with Jen wanting it so badly for that camp of hers. She and Arthur were awfully close.”

Wide-eyed, Zac couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Desperate to take the focus off himself, he expanded the accountability arc. “What about Gabe? Or Nick? Don’t they have a say in what happens to the Circle D?”

“The Circle D, yes. The Trails’ End, no. If that ranch is still in the Davidson name, and the taxes are current, the bank doesn’t care who paid them. Now, Jess might care, but that’s between you and your best friend.”

Zac started to rub the back of his neck and stopped.

He’d torn across the Trails’ End on motorcycles with Jess…but it was Jen’s soft laugh tickling his ear as she molded against his back with her arms wrapped around his middle that gave him a full body slam at the moment. They’d ridden a motorcycle together across every hidden path on the Trails’ End. Sometimes, they’d be gone all day, her tender nibbling kisses teasing his neck until he’d nearly crashed. Stopping the bike, he’d swept her off the seat to a grassy patch where warm sun and lazy afternoons gave way to him wanting to spend the rest of his life with her.

His eyes grew wide, shocked by the memory. Zac hustled to stuff it back where it belonged. How had such fascinating information gone so far south? Zac had expected an intelligent conversation with his folks over the incorporation of the Trails’ End back into the Circle D, not a hot potato toss with a legend that no one wanted to claim.

Clearing his throat, he faced his parents. “If all this is true, what am I supposed to tell Jess? He’s planning on using the proceeds to fund an investment he’s had his eye on. If that opportunity hadn’t come up, he wouldn’t be selling the ranch.” Zac relaxed as he returned to his original train of thought. “That’s all he could talk about when we met and I agreed to cut his hay. He’s looking at a deal of a lifetime.”

The timer on the kitchen stove dinged, yet Grace stayed seated, the tip of her finger pressed to her lip.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Son.” Martin eyed him for a long moment, a lifetime of wisdom milling within his brown eyes. “God is faithful. He answered your prayers.”

Zac set his elbows on the table as he buried his face in his palms. For as long as he could remember, he’d wanted the Trails’ End. Now it was his. He drove his fingers through his hair and focused on one of the many scars in the hard oak surface from years of family service. He and Jess had spent lots of time at the table…joking around, studying for tests, talking about girls.

Watching each other’s backs.

Zac jerked up straight so quickly, his chair tipped and then settled back with a thud. “I’ve got to make it right for Jess.”

* * *

The activity room of the recreation center was full as Jennifer stepped through the doors. Mentally exhausted after a week of trying to outguess every move Zac made and his motive for making it, Jen looked forward to an evening playing - just her and her kids. She’d spent the final camp session of the season in complete distraction. Digging through buckets of paperwork for the sale of the ranch; Zac Davidson wreaking havoc with her senses; and the biggest weight of all, the little girl she’d borne so many years ago facing life or death…and there was so very little Jen could do about it. She hadn’t slept; she hadn’t eaten; she felt like a zombie. Thankfully, she didn’t scare the children when she smiled at them.

Camp volunteers wove through the crowd, stopping here and there to comment on some accomplishment or newly learned skill. Kids mingled in small groups, girls with girls; boys with boys, all grinning at the attention. Jen smiled. She knew the self-consciousness that went along with cancer recovery. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, the kids had gone through so many transformations during the various phases of chemo and radiation, just grappling with recovery was hard enough. Throw in adolescent hormones, and the world took on a wilder ride than necessary.

Her heart hurt at the thought of Carli undergoing the same traumatic experience.

“Everyone ready for some fun?” She pasted on a smile and waved her hands. Enough detours off her purpose right now. The kids in the room with her right now deserved her full attention - at least for one night. Getting a thumbs up from Patrick, she glanced toward the kitchen. A small group of girls cheered, but mainly groans from the boys met her enthusiasm.

“Really? Square dancing?” Steven, a lanky boy sporting a new growth of curly, ash blond hair gave her a drawn look. “Are we going to dress in overalls and chew straw shoots, too?”

“I think it sounds like fun,” Kelsey piped in, her glasses firmly in place on her nose and sporting the new cowboy boots her parents had bought her right before she came to camp. “Better than video games.”

“No way,” Brett pointed at the gaming console. “We could play baseball on the Wii. Pick teams. Do all nine innings.”

Music started up in the background and a few grown-ups clapped. Patrick came out of the kitchen. “Tonight is our Sunday Night Dance. We’ve got 22 campers which makes us one pair short.”

The remodeled old barn gleamed with new woodwork and lacquered beams. Though she’d had a contractor do the heavy building, she and Tina had worked on some of the finishing touches like painting the window and floor trim, sanding the counter area and polishing the kitchen cabinets. She’d even held the ladder as Tina strung white lights along the rafters. The twinkling lights gave a holiday feel to the barn, no matter the season.

She wanted to turn them on now, but first they needed to calm the chaos.

Patrick began arranging groups, letting the pairs form on their own and only helping the most timid find a partner. Jennifer grinned at the red faces and lop-sided squares. Patrick better have lively music and a quick caller if they were going to keep this group’s interest. As she glanced around the room, her attention snagged on the figure at the door leaning against the jamb, his thumbs hooked in the loops of his jeans, a lazy grin on his face. A tingle raced through her as she rubbed her palm down her thigh. The sensation of Zac holding her hand through church still wreaked havoc with her nerves. Would she ever outgrow her embarrassing response to him?

He pushed off from the jamb and walked toward her, the heel of his boots clicking in time to her heartbeat.

“Are we a square of two?” Zac stopped beside her. Warmth emanated through his shirt despite the chilly evening. “I do believe square dancing in gym class was our first hand-holding event.”

Jen pushed her hair out of the way and admired how his denim shirt fit his shoulders perfectly. All six-foot of solid Zac Davidson--tall, tanned and toned. What a rush. “I think you have me confused with Laurie Beaumont. I don’t think I ever made it to your square.”

“Why do I remember it differently? In fourth grade you were my hero,” his voice barely above a whisper tickled her ear.

“Because I kept you from flunking out of arithmetic.” She matched his whisper and then cleared her throat. “
We
climbed trees, built forts and had snowball fights.
I’m
not the one you held hands with.”

“Were, too.” He reached for her, his hand cupping her shoulder. A shiver followed the path of his touch as he traced down her arm. “In fourth grade, I loved climbing trees and snowball fights. In high school, I developed a fondness for dancing.” His finger tip ran along her wrist. “With you.”

He took her hand, their palms sliding together perfectly. Her heart pounded as Zac led her across the room to the square with room for two more. He kept holding her hand and stood close to her side. If Jen hadn’t held on to her good senses, she could almost believe they were back in school, waiting for the music to start. But her memory painted a wilder picture than the one Zac described. She remembered heated skin and heavenly kisses, with little control between the two of them.

Now that was a memory better off forgotten.

“All right everyone, let’s go through the basic steps.” Patrick stood in the middle of the three squares, his arms curled at his sides. “To Do-Si-Do, loop your arm through your partner’s arm,” – he pulled one of the older girls from her partner as he joined Jen’s group – “like this, go around each other, then weave your way around the square.” The kids stood still as Patrick wove around them. When he got to Jen, he spun her around with a flourish. Caught off-guard, she almost fell over her own big feet. One of the boys snickered. Zac put his hand on her small of her back and steadied her. Heat rushed her face as she reclaimed her place in the square.

Patrick clicked on the music through his remote. “Now try it.”

The kids jostled for position. Patrick attempted to be in more than one place at once while other staff members who tried to help just got in the way. Jen angled Zac toward the middle of their square to keep in time with the music, but the kids were so goosey, she stopped and laughed.

Zac snaked his arm through hers and swiveled her and then looped her arm over her head and spun her around as his hand grazed her back. They grabbed hands and pushed back and pulled forward and Zac led her off in a perfect two-step.

“Show off,” she chuckled into his neck. “This isn’t the dance the kids want to learn either.”