Her Perfect Match (10 page)

E
lizabeth watched in shock as the helicopter bearing Ross Taggert lifted off from the Graystone Cross-country’s temporary helipad. This couldn’t be good, she thought. She had no idea what was wrong, but they didn’t airlift patients who weren’t seriously ill.

The odd thing was that she’d heard CJ’s name announced as the rider from Laurel Glen. She was, in fact, riding in Ross’s place at that very moment, so there was no way he’d gotten hurt in the cross-country event.

Elizabeth felt as if one of her family had been felled. She’d gone to the Graystone event with half a heart, really wanting to stay in bed and brood about Jack. Maybe dream about him, since dreams were all she’d ever have. But Charles Graystone had promised a portion of the proceeds this year to the New Life Inn, so she felt obligated. Having seen the look of anguish on Cole’s face as the helicopter rotated and
sped off, her problems should seem unimportant. Instead, the whole worrisome incident added to her melancholy state.

If God didn’t keep Ross, who was important to so many of His followers, safe, then He’d never help her. Dispirited and confused, Elizabeth felt a hand on her shoulder.

She turned. It was her father.

“They were arguing again. Cole was screaming at Ross for letting CJ ride the course. Ross just crumpled. I was up on the press platform above them.”

“Do you know what’s wrong?”

Reginald Boyer shook his head. “I don’t like the man, but I don’t wish him any ill. And Cole’s such a bleeding heart, he’ll never stop blaming himself if something happens to that stubborn father of his.”

Elizabeth glanced toward the medical tent and saw one of the medics on his way inside. He was the same man who had helped load Ross into the helicopter. She started moving toward the makeshift infirmary before the idea of asking questions fully formed in her brain. “I’m going to see what I can find out,” she told her father.

“Excuse me,” she said to the medic as she followed him out of the stifling August heat a few minutes later. “Can you tell me what’s wrong with Ross Taggert?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, miss. I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Do you know where they took him?”

The medic named the biggest—not closest—hos
pital in the area, which meant they thought he needed specialized care. And quickly. It was serious, but that wasn’t new information. The use of a helicopter had told her that. Maybe, though, everyone had overreacted.

“Please. I need more information. I’m a close friend of Mr. Taggert’s. I need to call the rest of the family. Please.”

The tall, thin man looked around the empty tent and sighed. “His son, the vet, thinks Taggert had a stroke, but we thought heat exhaustion since there’s been a lot of that today. Could be both, though. But you didn’t hear it from me. Okay?”

She nodded. “Thank you so much,” Elizabeth said. “Mind if I call the family from in here? I don’t think this is the kind of news they need to get with a lot of merriment in the background.”

Elizabeth made the call but learned from the housekeeper that Cole had contacted the family already and they were on their way to the hospital. Next she needed to find CJ. Cole would need her, especially if he was blaming himself. She turned to rush out but crashed into Jack on his way into the tent.

“Elizabeth! Do you know what happened to Ross?” he demanded, grabbing her elbows and steadying her. His hands and his voice shook, and there was a lot more than mild concern for an employer in his eyes. She wondered at that, but her mind veered at the feel of him so near.

His tight grip should have frightened her, but instead it made her concern for him deepen. He didn’t
let go immediately. Instead, he held on to her as if she were a lifeline.

Her mind relived that scene in the garden once again. If only she hadn’t pushed him away. If only he hadn’t misunderstood. The idea of her rejecting him because of her parents’ wishes was ludicrous in the extreme. Still, though she longed to explain, she saw no sense in trying. What could she say, after all? She couldn’t come right out and tell him she’d been stupid and had trusted the wrong person. That as a result she’d been raped. That she would never have a normal relationship with a man. That even after all the years that had passed since that day, she still flashed back to the feeling of being powerless in a man’s arms. That even Jack, a man she longed to hold, would never be able to hold her in return without fear stealing her joy—and his.

She was damaged. Flawed. And there was no future for them.

But there were other people they both cared about. It was time to focus on them. So she motioned Jack outside the tent to a crude bench in the shade of a tree. She quickly filled him in on what she’d learned, which felt like very little.

“I feel so responsible,” Jack said when she’d finished. “When I found out CJ was riding the cross-country for him, I called Ross to see how he was feeling. He said he had a miserable headache but he about had a cow when I mentioned that CJ planned to ride in his place. It upset him. He’d been going to scratch Prize after walking the course because it was
so dangerous, but his head felt so bad he didn’t bother telling CJ.”

Jack wiped the sweat from his forehead. “He said he’d be back as soon as he could get here. I was supposed to find CJ and stop her. Maybe if he’d stayed home, he might not be on his way to the hospital right now.”

“Now isn’t the time for self-recriminations, Jack. You didn’t call to upset him or to get him to come back here. You were just concerned. I assume you never found CJ since she did ride for him.”

Jack grabbed the back of his neck and stood, pacing away a couple steps and then back. “I was at Prize’s trailer looking for her when I heard her announced as the Laurel Glen rider. That’s why I wasn’t at the start line when Ross collapsed. I hoofed it back there but only in time to find out who’d been in the chopper I’d seen overhead.”

“We need to find CJ and send her to the hospital,” Elizabeth said. “Cole’s going to be a mess over this, especially if he and Ross were arguing.”

“Okay, but after that I’d like us to have a long talk.”

Elizabeth nodded and stood. She couldn’t imagine what he wanted to talk about. Last night he’d wished her a good life and walked out of it. What more was there to say?

The crowded grounds made finding CJ difficult. They missed her at the finish line, so they went to the trailer. Neither she nor the horse was there, and Jackson worried that the stallion had been injured. They
headed to the vet tent. There they learned that one of the vets on duty had stopped CJ on her way to the trailer to take a look at the horse just as a precaution. They realized that was why she and the stallion hadn’t been at the trailer.

They approached the green and gold Laurel Glen trailer again and saw Prize tethered to the back. Elizabeth called CJ’s name. CJ had just pushed herself to her feet when they walked around the front of the trailer. She looked a little groggy, as if she’d been napping. The news of Ross Taggert’s sudden illness clearly had not reached her.

“I know. I know. Riding for Ross was a little out there. Actually, considering the course, it was a
lot
out there, but—”

“CJ,” Elizabeth interrupted. “Didn’t you hear? Ross collapsed right after you started the course. They used the standby helicopter and flew him to the hospital. Cole went with him.”

CJ paled beneath her healthy tan and dropped onto the chrome running board of the pickup. She confirmed that Ross had only told her about his headache and his plans to go home.

“Well, he came back,” Elizabeth told her. “From what I hear, he collapsed near the start line right after you took off. My father says he thinks Ross and Cole were arguing.”

“All those two ever do is argue,” Jackson grumbled, knowing he and his father were not much better.

Elizabeth took CJ’s hand and gave her the keys to
her car. “Take my car and go. Cole will need you there.”

Shaking her head, CJ stood and handed the keys back. Which could only mean CJ and Cole were still dancing around one another. Didn’t they know how lucky they were? Didn’t they know what they were giving up? Didn’t they know that Jackson would give his left arm to have with Elizabeth what those two clearly had together?

“You take these back and get yourself to that hospital,” Elizabeth ordered, plunking the keys into CJ’s hand again. “My car is at the entrance to the trailer lot.”

CJ looked at the keys. “All right,” she conceded.

Anxiously Jackson watched Elizabeth stare after CJ, her mind lost somewhere unreachable. Her look of longing tugged at his heartstrings.

“So, you need a lift home?” Jackson asked, hopeful his show of temper last night hadn’t put her off permanently. Hopeful he’d misread her rejection.

“I should stay since the New Life Inn is a beneficiary,” Elizabeth said, “but after hearing CJ’s opinion of the course and seeing all the trouble this event has caused, I just don’t think I can.”

“Then suppose I get Prize loaded. We’ll drop him at Laurel Glen and I’ll check on a few things. Then I’ll take you home or to the hospital. Whichever you want. But first I want to apologize for—”

“No. Please,” she cut in. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”

“And maybe I should have asked what was wrong
instead of assuming. There’s an old saying about assuming that I forgot.”

Jackson watched a little smile tip Elizabeth’s lips up at the corners, but then she grew serious again. “I really don’t care what my parents think, you know. That wasn’t the problem.”

“Mind telling me what was?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I can’t. I just can’t.” She squeezed her eyes shut but not before he glimpsed a soul-deep anguish reflected in them. Twin tears tracked down her cheeks, and she looked at him. “You were right last night. You’re better off without me. I’m just not worth all the turmoil. As you said, have a nice life, Jack.”

If Jackson hadn’t liked thinking she’d pushed him away because of her parents’ disapproval, he really didn’t like what he was thinking now. Seeing now. But with his mother’s warning that Elizabeth was emotionally fragile and with so many other little clues screaming in his mind, he could no longer deny that it all pointed to Elizabeth having been ill-used by some man. Jackson wasn’t sure how, and he couldn’t even bring himself to speculate. All he could do was love her, earn her trust and pray for self-control when he finally did learn the whole story. Because right then he wanted to demand names and go break a few heads. Not a very Christian attitude, but there it was. He’d never felt such anger and anguish at the same time.

She turned and tried to flee.

Jackson put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.
“Beth, you don’t really want to go, do you?” he asked and turned her into his arms. Remembering her reaction last night when he’d tightened his embrace, he kept his arms looped as gently around her as he could while still keeping her sheltered.

Soon he realized she was crying. She didn’t make a sound, but her tears soaked his shirt. There was something poignant in those silent tears that tore at him. Had she been fighting this battle alone? Had no one ever heard her cry for compassion?

Thinking of her parents, he knew they certainly hadn’t. Perhaps his cousin had. Cole was certainly protective of her, and even though he might know what had happened in her past, there was no way Jackson could ask him. Elizabeth had to be the one to confide in him. And he had to show her he could be trusted.

He closed his eyes and held her with her head tucked under his chin, praying for wisdom and patience. He prayed that the Lord would touch her soul and heal whatever hurt kept her so isolated and afraid, for now he understood. Fear and a feeling of near worthlessness haunted Elizabeth.

His father had always told him that anything worth having was worth the work it took to get it, and Jackson knew gaining Elizabeth’s trust wouldn’t be easy. But he wanted this woman in his life, and that was worth any amount of hard work.

With God’s help he would succeed.

J
ackson woke the morning after the Graystone Cross-country to find a new world outside his window. Overnight a wild line of thunderstorms had raced through southern Pennsylvania and Delaware bringing cool temperatures. The air seemed to have been freshly scrubbed, and the mercury had fallen at least thirty degrees from the ninety-nine of the day before. The humidity that had lain like a blanket over the land had lifted, as well.

The events of the night before raced through his mind. Ross was going to be all right, having suffered only a mild stroke. With very little therapy, and if he took the blood-pressure medicine he’d been ignoring, the doctors promised he’d be good as new within a month or two. But the night’s excitement hadn’t ended there.

A few minutes ago his mother had called to say that Ross’s wife, Amelia delivered a baby girl some
time during the night. When the last rider finished his run in the late afternoon, it turned out that CJ had won the Graystone Cross-country, cheering Ross even more. And the best news from Jackson’s point of view was that when he and Elizabeth had stopped by the hospital, it had been clear that CJ and Cole had settled whatever differences they’d had and appeared to be inseparable.

Elizabeth was still a worry, though. She’d been quiet after expressing her sympathy for Ross’s unexpected illness. She’d smiled happily at Cole and CJ, giving what anyone could see was her stamp of approval on the match. She’d expressed her good wishes and her prayers for Amelia and the baby.

He’d left her then to see Ross, wanting to make sure his uncle knew Jackson would keep everything running smoothly at Laurel Glen. During his short visit with Ross, Elizabeth had taken her car and left.

And that was his worry. He didn’t have a clue where her sudden departure left them. Recognizing the futility of his thoughts, he bounded out of bed. The day awaited, and brooding about what it would bring would accomplish nothing.

Several hours later, his mind once again on Elizabeth, a noise in the stable drew his attention. As if thinking about her had conjured her from thin air, she walked toward the door of his office. He stood. “Well, hi. You left without saying goodbye.”

“I didn’t really belong there.”

“That isn’t the way Hope and Jeff or CJ and Cole
felt. Meg was pretty annoyed, too, when she came out of the labor room and found you’d gone.”

“Oh, no. Meg’s been good to me. I guess I should have stayed till she and Hope switched as Amelia’s labor coaches.”

Jackson willed Elizabeth to look him in the eye. Something, he realized minutes ago, she rarely did. “I would have liked to come back to find you still there, as well.”

“Sorry. I thought it was time I left and I thought you’d be leaving, too, since you aren’t family, either.”

Jackson was torn, and glad she was busy taking in the room and avoiding eye contact. He’d learned over the years that he wasn’t a very convincing liar. And it felt uncomfortable—since he couldn’t correct her misconception.

Meg was still unsure when to introduce him as her son. She didn’t want to intrude on the joy Ross and Amelia’s and Hope and Jeff’s new additions brought to both couples by introducing her own one-hundred-and-ninety-pound bouncing baby boy to the family. He suspected she was wrestling with other issues, too. But whatever her reasons, until she broke her silence on the matter, Jackson’s hands were tied. He couldn’t be the one to give away her secret, even to Elizabeth. It wouldn’t be right.

He wished it didn’t feel so much like he was lying. “I did leave right after you,” he admitted and sat to cover his nervousness, “but I’d hoped you’d have dinner with me.”

She smiled and looked toward the window over his shoulder, not meeting his eyes. “How about lunch today?” she asked.

“I’d love to. Unfortunately, I gave the summer kids an hour off. They wanted to go buy a gift for baby Laurel.” He chuckled. “The boys wanted to buy her inline skates and the girls wanted a little T-shirt of some rock band.”

“Teenagers aren’t known for their practicality, I guess.”

“Still, they’re a good bunch. I’ll be sorry to see them go back to school next month. Remember when you were their age?”

Elizabeth looked sad suddenly then grimaced as she sank into the chair facing him on the other side of his desk. “I was never their age. Not really,” she said gravely.

“Tough teenage years? I pictured you as every teenage boy’s fantasy come to life. You sure must have been mine.”

“Only if you were into nightmares. I’d show you a picture but they never took pictures of me.” She pulled a face. “Afraid I’d break the camera, probably. They didn’t even bother buying those terrible ones the school took every year. My mother often refers to me in my early years as the Boyer family’s ugly duckling. And I was, at least up until my mother plucked all my gray feathers and turned me into a swan.”

Once again Jackson was tempted to take on her parents on her behalf. Some people shouldn’t be parents. The Boyers were two of them. Jack forced a
smile rather than grind his teeth, trying to remember that it was his duty to be forgiving. He wasn’t there yet, however.

“If you turned into a swan, it’s because that’s what you were meant to be. And as for youthful fantasies, mine were more on the line of a girl who wasn’t afraid of horses. My life has always revolved around them in one way or another. The Circle A is a cattle ranch, and a lot of work still gets done from the back of a horse. One of the things my father and I differ on is that I think half the operation should be geared toward an equine breeding program, since beef is getting such a bad name these days. He won’t listen, though.”

“Maybe not listening to children happens genetically when people have them.”

Jack thought of Meg and the way she listened to him. She’d never known him as a child. Maybe that was the key. “I wonder if it isn’t just that parents always think of their children as the little ones they had to guide and protect. To them we never really grow up.”

Elizabeth grimaced. “For some parents that’s probably it. Others just want their children to be clones of them. It’s what my parents want. It drove my brother away years ago.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

She sighed and looked terribly sad. “Adam’s been gone a long time. Yesterday you called me Beth, and it made me start thinking about him. He called me
Beth. He was the only one who ever called me anything but Elizabeth.”

“Are memories of him pleasant?”

She smiled wistfully. “Very. Adam was my hero.”

“Then maybe I’ll call you Beth all the time, too.”

“I’d like that,” she said.

Her smile was shy, and her cheeks took on a pinker hue. When he met her he’d never have thought he’d see the day Elizabeth Boyer would look so shy—so vulnerable. No. Not Elizabeth. Beth. Today she looked like a Beth. In fact, since he picked her up for the ball, she had been Beth. He hadn’t realized it till now.

Admittedly, the alliteration of Beth Boyer sounded pretty lame, but Beth Alton had an awfully nice ring. Jackson found himself fighting to keep a grin off his face. Her next words had him going from pleased as punch to angry enough to chew nails in one second flat.

“I think nearly everyone forgets Adam ever existed,” she said. “I was never allowed to ask about him or even say his name after he left. I was eleven years old when he left right after high school to go into the Navy. The day he left was the day he told my parents that he’d enlisted. I only saw him for a few minutes after that.”

She looked at her hands, twining and untwining them. “The way I acted that day is one of my greatest regrets. I was furious with him for leaving me behind. I can still remember him hugging me good-bye even though I had my arms crossed and my chin buried in
my chest. I wouldn’t talk to him. He told me I’d understand one day why he had to leave, and I do but…”

“Maybe you should contact him?” Jackson suggested, hating that her parents had taken away something as precious as her brother. Hating the way she refused to look at him—as if she’d done something to be ashamed of.

“I wouldn’t know how to find him. Besides, if he wanted to see me, he’d have contacted me years ago.”

“Not necessarily. You were a little girl when he last saw you. You could have grown up the image of your parents. It could be that he isn’t sure of his reception.”

“You think?”

Jackson nodded. “Sure. You could probably reach him through the Navy.”

“My parents would—” Her grin was suddenly mischievous. “What was it you said yesterday? Have a cow. Maybe I will anyway.”

“That’s the spirit.” And he’d thought this woman would bow to her parents’ obvious bad opinion of him? Once again he saw he couldn’t have been more wrong about her. “When the kids get back, we could take a ride. Maybe I could run over to my place and toss a snack together and we could eat it somewhere pretty.”

She shot him a smile he couldn’t quite interpret. “And I know just the spot.”

Elizabeth gave Glory her head and took a fence, leaving Jackson on the other side. Since he believed that if horses were supposed to fly, God would have given them wings, he rode out of his way till he came to the gate. Then he had to open it and, after closing it behind him, catch up. He shouted that she was unfair to a poor chickenhearted country boy but she just laughed and prodded her mare into a leisurely canter, secure in the knowledge that Jackson would eventually catch up after she beat him to their destination.

She rode over the hill toward the stream at the border between Laurel Glen and Boyerton, her parents’ estate, and the sound of hooves thundering toward her filled her ears. Startled Elizabeth turned to see Jack as he flew by, hunkered down in his Western saddle. His laughter floated behind him the way hers probably had a few minutes earlier.

He was on the ground feigning a relaxed, lazy pose by the time she rounded the last bend. “What took you so long?” he asked, trying to mask his rapid breathing.

She fought a grin. He was gleefully unrepentant. “We said race, not fly. That looked more like flying to me than taking a little fence. How can you claim to be afraid of jumping then turn around and ride at breakneck speed on unfamiliar ground?”

Jack shrugged. “It’s just the way I was raised, ma’am,” he said, his accent purposely thick as he looked around. “So this is the place you wanted to show me?”

“There are Lenape arrowheads all over the place. I even found an ax head once. I think they must have lived on the banks of this stream.”

Jack stooped, sifted through some stone and came up with one honed into a point. “Incredible. I never thought there would still be a Native American site in the east. I assumed they’d have all been destroyed by development.”

Elizabeth grimaced. “Not a good subject right now. My father owns the land on the far side of the creek. He wants to sell to developers but he has a problem because Boyerton is wedge-shaped and has very little access to the roads. Ross holds most of our property in a land lock and he won’t sell access to the back section.”

“You don’t seem to be angry about that.”

“I’m not. Ross has every right to keep Laurel Glen intact. Actually, I’m grateful. This was my retreat once upon a time.” She didn’t add that she had only been there with Jeff or Cole since Jason Lexington’s attack made her fearful of traveling too far afield alone. It was with a measure of trust that she’d brought Jack there, and until that moment it hadn’t entered her mind to be afraid. Better, she wasn’t the least bit uncomfortable being there with him.

“Why doesn’t your father ask Ross to buy his land, then?”

“Ross offered a couple years ago. My father can’t stand Ross, so he refused. When my brother left and I refused to talk to him, Maggie told me I was cutting off my nose to spite my face. That’s exactly what my
father did. Since then things have gotten worse financially for both of them. My father isn’t very good with finances, and with all that happened with Laurel Glen and Harry Donovan’s crimes last year, I doubt Ross could afford the land right now. My father’s currently talking to a developer who wants to buy up the land the carriage house sits on and demolish it to gain access to this land. My parents would be left with the house and a few acres mostly on the back side of the house, with an access road to whatever they build running within a hundred feet of their front door. Mother is having a fit.”

“And throwing rich men at you hoping for a rescue.”

She sighed. “Exactly. Shall we have our snack?”

Jack pointed to a big old shade tree. She thought it was a chestnut. Next he pulled the ties off the blanket he carried on the back of his saddle and handed it to her. The smell of goldenrod was on the air, but she didn’t think it smelled nearly as nice as Jack did.

As she strolled over to spread the thick Navajo blanket that felt more like a rug, Elizabeth heard the sound of leather creaking against leather as Jack pulled the saddlebags he’d packed with apples and cheese and fresh cider. She was kneeling when he dropped the bags between them and hunkered down to unpack the feast he’d put together.

“Pardon my saying this but your mother and father don’t look like very happy people.”

“I don’t think they are. My mother only married Father for the house and the status of the Boyer name.
That’s going downhill fast. He’s only ever cared about what others thought of him. The adulation faded pretty quickly when his money dwindled.”

“Pretty sad way to live,” he said, putting down the knife he’d been cutting the apples with.

“Very.” She took a deep breath then snagged a piece of cheese and apple as he poured the cider. “Goodness, such a dreary topic on such a lovely day. So tell me about this history degree you have. Why history and not animal husbandry or some other ranching thing?”

“I had finance and—” He chuckled. “—ranching things as an undergrad. My masters is in history. It can be a little isolated at the Circle A, and continuing to take classes seemed like a good way to meet new people.”

“Women, you mean,” she said, feeling a little twinge of jealousy she knew she had no right to feel.