Blackbird Lake (12 page)

Denny McDonald studied Jake incredulously over a beer and a steak in the Lucky Punch Saloon. “Let me get this straight. You want us to fix up your three cabins, build four more, a barn, and a corral,
and
renovate your private cabin
again
—turn it into a guest lodge? For a bunch of bullied kids?”

“And their families,” Jake corrected him with a grin.

“Well, okay, yeah, but you sure about that last part, Jake? We just expanded and remodeled your place for you a couple of years ago.”

“You did.” Jake sipped at his beer. “And I’ve stayed there under that big old roof maybe a week, ten days total since you put in all that work, Denny. I’m always on the move.
Now I’ve found a way to put my land to much better use. And when I come to town, which, as you know, isn’t very often, I can always bunk in one of the new cabins if they’re available—or stay with my family. No big deal. It’s not as if I’m here in Lonesome Way all that much—”

He broke off as Brady stepped inside the Lucky Punch, halted just inside the doorway, and squinted around through the noisy dimness. Brady spotted him quickly, then his gaze shifted to Denny. Even from this distance, Jake saw him flinch.

“Suck it up, kid,” he murmured, both sympathy and amusement glinting in his eyes as he took another bite of his own steak.

“What’d you say?” Denny looked baffled.

“Brady. Just came in the door. Looks to me like he’d rather jump off Coyote Cliff than come over here and look you in the eye.”

Denny twisted around and saw Brady staring at him. He looked like a sturdy young calf with a rope tightening around his neck.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, hiring him on for this, Jake. Not that I’m against giving him another chance, because personally I like the boy, but…you sure he’s up to it?”

“I’m sure.” Jake settled back in his chair as Brady started toward them.

Both Jake and Denny went silent as the younger man reached their table, tucked twenty feet away from the long mahogany bar and directly across from the jukebox, where Blake Shelton’s “Hillbilly Bone” was playing.

“Have a seat,” Jake suggested when Brady merely stood there, a flush rising up his neck.

“You heard him,” Denny added, pleasantly enough. He’d been shy all of his life and had never even really dated until he was forty-five and met Karla. Everything about his life had changed on that day.

Now he and Karla were married, Denny was a father of two, happier than he’d ever been in his life. And he had come
into his own. More and more, he was taking over the daily management of McDonald Construction. His father had always been the one in charge of the business, but his dad was slowing down—and Denny, at forty-nine, was sliding fairly effortlessly into a leadership role. Still, he knew his father liked to pretend nothing had changed. Sam still had a hard enough head that he was out of the hospital already today and raring to get back to work, despite the docs telling him to take a good five, six days to recover from the accident.

“Got a business proposition for you, Brady.” Denny squinted up at the good-looking young man who’d been his best employee in years.

Until the day he walked off the job without a word.

Brady Farraday had left McDonald Construction one man short, and up a creek with a hard-ass client pushing for a home remodel deadline to be met. Denny would be lying if he didn’t admit he’d been pissed and furious at the kid for months.

But Brady’s brother had died. And the boy had always been responsible up until then. Yeah, he’d give him one more shot.

But if he ever bailed again…

“What’s this all about?” Brady stared warily back and forth between Jake and Denny.

“Sit your butt down and find out.” Jake pushed a menu toward a space at the table where there was an extra chair. “Hurry up,” he said in an even tone. “Denny and I are ready to jump with both feet into a new project and we need to know if you’re in or out.”

“A new project? You mean you’d hire me again?” Dazed, Brady stared at his former boss.

“Depends. Jake’s willing to vouch for you, to guarantee you won’t leave me in a bind again. So if you give me your word—”

“I will. I mean, I
won’t
…run out on you, that is.”

“Order yourself some lunch, then,” Denny told him gruffly. “And let’s get down to business.”

A half hour later Jake took off for Travis and Mia’s place. The more he reflected on the plan to turn his land and cabins into a part-time haven for bullied kids and their families, the more he felt like this was what he was meant to do.

He intended to have at least a quarter mile of open land in between each of the cabins. Plenty of space for people to sit out on a porch and take in the staggering mountain view, to watch wildlife right in their own backyard, to appreciate the scope and wonder and beauty of the Montana wilderness. To simply breathe.

There could be riding lessons and group activities at the main lodge, possibly even some low-key, upbeat counseling sessions. A guide to take guests on hikes or fishing trips up to Blackbird Lake or one of the other lakes in the basin, a chance to hone new skills and make new friends.

During most of the year, he could rent the cabins out to tourists, along with the three bedrooms on the second floor of the main house, making them available to vacationers, hikers, and fishermen, but he’d block out the summer months—and maybe two weeks of the school year’s winter recess—for the kids who needed a real break.

Something to put a smile back on their faces, build up their confidence, and allow them to share the sheer joy of the outdoors—of campfires and marshmallows, horseback rides, and a night sky brimming with an explosion of stars.

It would be good for the city kids, good for their parents, and good for Lonesome Way. The tourists who came to hike, ride, hunt, or fish the rest of the year would boost the town’s economy. And hey, he thought as he parked, let Bronco out of the truck, and looked on in amusement as the dog followed him to the door of Travis and Mia’s sprawling cabin, Sophie’s bakery would likely have way more business than she could handle once the tourist folks got a taste of her cinnamon buns, her chocolate velvet cake, and her array of wrap sandwiches and country side dishes.

Rafe’s wife might even need to expand her business.

“That was a really nice thing you did for Brady,” Mia told him a few moments later as Bronco snored in the corner
of the huge kitchen and Jake sprawled on the hardwood floor with Zoey, handing the little girl colorful foam blocks as she piled them on top of each other and then, shrieking with laughter, knocked them down.

“Denny’s the one who gave him his job back.” Jake shrugged as Zoey picked up a block and hurled it toward his face. He caught it one-handed and pulled her up onto his lap. Her fairy blond hair wisped in her eyes as she laughed innocently up at him, a tiny vision of dimples and deviltry. “This little one is going to break a thousand hearts,” he announced and planted a kiss on her cheek.

“Look who’s talking. The heartbreaker king.” Mia laughed as she strolled to the granite countertop to put up more coffee. Travis was taking a meeting at his office, and Mia, who had taken a leave of absence from teaching after Zoey was born, had been decorating the house with streamers and posters for her daughter’s first birthday party this coming Saturday.

“So who’s the current woman in your life right now as of…” Mia peered at her watch and then turned to Jake. “As of three
P.M.
today, that is.”

“Her name’s Miss Zoey Tanner,” Jake retorted easily as his niece nestled up against his chest. “And she’s a knockout.”

Zoey appeared completely oblivious to the compliment, though, as she began drifting off to sleep in his arms. He leaned back, studying her tiny delicate face.

Something about her utter relaxation and innocent drowsiness stirred a memory in his mind.

He suddenly realized what it was. She reminded him of that other little girl. The cute red-haired one he’d glimpsed last night at Denny McDonald’s house. Carly McKinnon’s daughter. She’d been deep in this same sort of blissful sleep when he’d made his way to the sofa and peered down at her.

“Carly McKinnon and her little girl—they invited to Zoey’s party?” he asked suddenly.

“Of course.” Mia glanced up from her cookbook. She’d been searching for a recipe while the coffee was brewing,
hunting for her grandmother’s potato salad recipe. She was fixing that, as well as chicken fingers, pasta salad, fruit, mini hot dogs, and tuna roll-ups for the birthday lunch. “Carly’s become a good friend ever since she moved to Lonesome Way and she’s very active in Bits and Pieces, our quilting group. We’ve even had a few daytime meetings and speakers at her quilt shop on Spring Street. Zoey and Emma have playdates, too, now and then—even though Emma is six months older. They’ve hit it off.” Mia’s brows rose. “But I had no idea
you
knew them.”

“Nothing much gets by me in this town,” Jake tossed off with a grin.

“Uh-uh. Especially when there’s a beautiful woman involved.” Tilting her blond head to the side, Mia eyed her brother-in-law curiously. “And Carly is definitely beautiful. Emma is, too. So…
how
did you say you know them again?”

There was more than casual interest in her tone. And she had a speculative light in her eyes that Jake recognized.

Mia must have caught the matchmaking bug from my sister,
he decided in amusement. Lissie and all the women of his family—hell, all the women of Lonesome Way—seemed always to expect love to bloom around every corner of this town.

“We met a few years ago in Houston, had dinner together,” he said nonchalantly. He didn’t intend to tell his sister-in-law that he and Carly McKinnon had also spent a smoking-hot night in his hotel room. A memory of Carly kissing her way down his chest, of her soft burnished hair brushing his skin, and her long legs twining around him as they made love, sprang into his mind, but he pushed the images away.

“I bumped into her over at the McDonald place last night. It was kind of surprising to find she’s living in Lonesome Way. And yeah,” he added as Mia started to say something, “I know all about her connection to Martha Davies. But still. Boston to Montana is one major move.”

“And a good one for this town. Believe me, everyone in Bits and Pieces was thrilled when she opened Carly’s Quilts.
Now we don’t have to drive all the way to Livingston for our supplies. Needless to say, she was welcomed with open arms. She’s an amazing quilter, too—she used to be a big-time number cruncher with Marjorie Moore and gave up a very lucrative position to move here. She really wanted to be close to Martha since she’s Emma’s godmother and all. Martha and Carly’s foster mother were cousins.”

Foster mother,
he thought. Had she ever mentioned over dinner or in his hotel room that she’d been in foster care? He didn’t think so, but he didn’t really remember either of them doing much talking that night.

“Why don’t you give this sleepyhead to me.” Mia broke into his thoughts as she strode around the counter. “I’ll take her upstairs and put her down.”

“So what’s the deal about the baby’s father?” Rolling to his feet, Jake transferred his niece carefully into his sister-in-law’s arms.

“The father?” Mia shrugged. “No one knows anything about
him
. Carly never mentions him, except to say he’s not in the picture. Her exact words. I don’t think she’s ever been married, though. And she doesn’t date, either…at least, she hasn’t since she moved here.” The glance Mia flicked him was a hopeful one as she reached the bottom of the staircase, Zoey snug in her arms.

“The theory around town is that Carly either had a boyfriend who walked out on her and Emma—or a one-night stand with some jerk who didn’t sign up for daddyhood. Luckily she’s a great mother all on her own. But still…” She paused, one foot on the lowest step, Zoey tucked sleepily in her arms. “It can’t be easy. I can’t even begin to imagine what kind of a man would turn his back on his own daughter.” Mia shook her head. “It’s just sad.”

But Jake barely heard that last part. Just as he scarcely noticed his sister-in-law whisk up the steps and disappear into the nursery with Zoey.

He stood frozen. Stunned. As if he’d been gut-punched, or thrown from a bull and had hit the dirt hard. As if something had been knocked loose in his head.

Three short words Mia had said reverberated through his brain.

One. Night. Stand.

He and Carly. Hell.
They’d
had a one-night stand.

Damn it, how long ago was that?

Jake rapidly calculated. He’d gone to Houston to host the charity bash shortly after he won that bull-riding championship in Cheyenne. So that night he took Carly to dinner—and to bed—was slightly more than…two years ago…around twenty-four months….

No, that was wrong. Actually, he realized with a jolt of shock ripping through him, it was more than that…closer to twenty-six or twenty-seven months….

And Emma McKinnon is six months older than Zoey….

His stomach dropped through the floor as he did the math. Then redid it. Every muscle in his body seemed to turn to ice.

For one instant, the cowboy with the lightning reflexes and nerves of iron couldn’t move or speak.

Then he raced to the door, his boots smacking against the hardwood floor.

“Jake, wait! Where are you going?”

Mia, puzzled, peered down at him from the top of the stairs. “Coffee’s ready. Travis will be home any minute and Grady wants to show you his new telescope—”

“Sorry, Mia, but there’s something I have to do. Right now.”

“Jake, can’t you—”

But he was gone, bolting from the cabin before she could get out the next word. He was only vaguely aware that Bronco had trotted to the screen door and was whining, staring morosely after him. A moment later, tension searing through his shoulders and neck, he wrenched the truck into gear and tore out of Travis’s driveway, speeding east toward Blue Bell Drive.

His stomach churned. His hands clenched the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. He barely noticed turning sharply onto Carly McKinnon’s street. He
did remember that she lived two doors down from Denny and Karla….