Her Perfect Match (4 page)

After talking with Melissa, Elizabeth felt calm enough to complete her business in town and leave for the shelter. “Thank you for chasing off the bully,” she said as they stood to leave. “I’ve never been very good with that sort of problem.”

Jack chuckled. “I guess I owe you a thank-you, as well.”

“Whatever for?”

“Well, for not thinking I’m a bully.”

Elizabeth gave him a jaundiced look. “Oh? And how can you be so sure?”

“’Cause, ma’am, you haven’t had any problem standing up to me since the day I arrived.”

Elizabeth felt her cheeks heat and turned to push open the café door. “Why is it you take such joy in embarrassing others?”

“Not others. Just you. And I was teasing, not trying to embarrass you. Some folks are just plain easy to tease that I can’t help myself. And you’re one of them. Try not taking yourself so seriously. Life’s a whole lot more fun that way. Come on. We’ll go to the post office then I’ll walk you to your car and make sure Hobart isn’t still hanging around somewhere.”

Jackson watched Elizabeth drive away a few minutes later. He’d misjudged her in many respects. He’d only asked her about the women’s shelter to get her talking so she would be able to focus on something other than Hobart. He’d assumed her involvement was a typical socialite’s cursory dabbling in a charity to gain the good opinion of others.

Her deep commitment to the women’s shelter she’d appropriately named the New Life Inn surprised him. It was laudable yet troubling, too. It seemed to Jackson that she had a deep personal knowledge of the inner feelings of the woman whose plight had inspired her.
You can’t imagine how awful it is to have someone overpower you and take away your choices.

He couldn’t imagine where Elizabeth could have learned such a difficult personal lesson. But the passion in her voice had spoken of just that, and he didn’t think a short acquaintance with an abused woman
could have affected her as deeply as she’d claimed. Yet she was an unmarried, pampered princess from the highest echelon of society. And since she was involved with his cousin Cole, clearly a man with a kind heart, Jackson didn’t think that relationship was the source of her dark knowledge. Whatever the source, he was uncomfortable categorizing Elizabeth as the social butterfly he’d assumed she was.

But Jackson was no longer confident of his judgment where women were concerned at all. He’d judged Elizabeth harshly but hadn’t scrutinized others enough. So he had to wonder if his attraction to her was blinding him to obvious faults in the same way it had caused him to overlook her virtues.

The problem was that Elizabeth seemed to be two people. One he understood—the ice princess she showed the world. The other—the warm, caring, socially conscious administrator of a women’s shelter—didn’t fit with a vain young woman to whom appearance meant everything and who had been handed everything in life.

“Would the real Elizabeth Boyer please stand up?” muttered Jackson as he climbed in his truck and twisted the ignition. With a sigh of disgust, he turned the truck off. He’d come here to pick up a part for one of the tractors, and it had flown out of his head the second he’d seen Hobart grab Elizabeth’s wrist.

He was afraid he’d never shake the protective feelings for her that had surged to the fore when he’d sensed her fear from across the lot. And he was afraid that spelled trouble with a capital T.

J
ackson wiped his forehead with a bandanna and looked toward where he knew the sun should be. He shook his head in disgust. Nothing but haze. Again. He hadn’t seen the sun in two weeks. Not since the day he’d scared off that weasel named Hobart who’d been threatening Elizabeth. Since then both she and the sun had been making themselves scarce.

Oh, there was plenty of evidence of both but only in a cursory way. The sun stayed behind a thick haze of humidity floating between the great ball of fire and the mere humans currently being boiled beneath its diffused rays. As for Elizabeth, he’d heard Cole was still seeing her, often staying out all night, according to gossip.

And he hated it!

But since he hated gossip, too, and he spent way too much time thinking about the puzzle that was Elizabeth, Jackson firmly put her out of his head once
again. Instead of brooding, he climbed on his horse, forcing his mind onto another more safely pondered enigma. Pennsylvania weather.

In Colorado you checked fences in all sorts of weather but it never felt as if you were riding through a blazing steam bath. And back home the only time the sun didn’t make an appearance during the day was in foul weather. He chuckled. Then again, this weather was pretty darn foul.

As Jackson turned to trace the fence line along Indian Creek Road, he saw a flash of gold in his peripheral vision. He twisted in the saddle and saw Elizabeth and her horse, Glory, fly gracefully over the fence and ride toward him. He couldn’t take his eyes from her flushed face and bright eyes.

“Hi,” she said, Glory dancing as she guided the glistening gray horse to a halt. “I’d hoped to see you. I wanted to thank you again for scaring Melissa Hobart’s husband off. He hasn’t bothered me or her since. I guess having another man tell him to get lost worked.”

“Glad I could help.” He inclined his head toward her horse. “Glory’s been missing you. You haven’t been around much these last couple of weeks. I began to wonder if Hobart had become more of a problem.”

She shook her head, her blond hair loose and waving slightly as it fell on her shoulders. “I stayed away just in case. The last thing I want is to bring trouble with me to Laurel Glen. The Taggerts have had enough problems these last eighteen months without my adding to them.”

“It’s hard to believe Harry Donovan would do the things he did because he’d been infatuated with Ross’s late wife and wanted revenge on Ross over her death.”

“He was after Ross and Cole both. Luckily, he didn’t do any permanent damage to the business or the family. He did kill his cohort to keep from being discovered, but at least no innocents were killed. Jeff being paralyzed—in one of Donovan’s manufactured accidents—for all those months was bad enough although he says it was the best thing that ever happened to him.”

Jackson frowned. “But even though he’s okay now, Jeff still lost his chance at the Olympics because of it.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Jeff seems to think he learned valuable life lessons he’d never have if his life had kept skating happily onward the way he was. And he says it taught him what he calls an eternal lesson because it made him turn to God. Apparently, to him, that was worth all the pain. He’s certainly a different person. I don’t know if it’s God or Hope, though, since he more or less discovered them both at the same time.”

“What was Jeff like before?” Jackson asked, wondering. He’d grown up a Christian, but coming from a small church with a pretty much fixed membership, he’d really never seen someone’s life transformed, though he knew it happened all the time.

“Jeff was driven to achieve an Olympic gold medal. He worked hard but he played hard, too, and
his friends, except me, Cole and Hope, were mostly from the equestrian circuit. They were all the opposite of Hope, that’s for sure, and they disappeared when the going got tough while Jeff was paralyzed. I stayed away, too, but for other reasons.”

“I’d say, given all that, the changes in him must be his relationship with God. His relationship with Hope might never have survived the equestrian world’s lifestyle,” Jackson told her.

Elizabeth stared at nothing, a pensive look on her beautiful face. “No. No, it wouldn’t,” she agreed, but her thoughts were clearly on something other than Jeff Carrington’s conversion.

Had Elizabeth been hurt by Jeff Carrington? Had she been as involved with Jeff as she appeared to be with Cole? If so, it was no small wonder he’d noticed antagonism toward her from Hope.

“So what were your reasons for staying away after he was injured?” he found himself asking, driven to get to know her in spite of all reason.

“Hope badly misunderstood my relationship with Jeff, and I didn’t want to create friction between them. My father was his coach. Jeff and I rarely saw each other away from Pennsylvania unless I flew to an event for a visit. Also my father isn’t the most diplomatic man in the world. He said some rather cruel things to Jeff following the accident. Frankly, I was mortified and not sure of my reception in Jeff’s home, so Cole kept me up to date on how Jeff was progressing.”

Was her relationship with Cole less than everyone
thought? Was the same kind of misunderstanding happening again? Just then Cole and CJ Larson rode through the hollow below at a fast clip. Their laughter rose, full of joy and camaraderie.

“That’s another reason I’ve stayed away from Laurel Glen these last two weeks,” Elizabeth said.

She didn’t sound angry. In fact, she grinned. Jackson tried to understand that but knew he never would. “Seeing them doesn’t seem to make you angry.”

“Why would I be angry? CJ is a wonderful person. I really like her,” she said, clearly incredulous.

“Are you this cavalier about the end of all your relationships?”

“Relationship? Cole and I—” She halted what seemed like mid thought and stared at him. Her green eyes caught fire, then they turned to emerald chips of ice. Jackson regretted his question immediately when he saw how angry she was and when, without another word, she wheeled her mount away and charged the same fence she’d flown over just minutes earlier. As horse and rider once again took flight, he realized what had been out of place from the second he’d seen her coming toward him. She wore no riding helmet. And if he hadn’t been so moon-eyed over seeing her again, he’d have noticed and reminded her of safety concerns.

Neither he nor Ross wore helmets, either, but Jackson didn’t jump fences, and he rode western saddle. He and the boss had reached an agreement that Jackson, who came from a different tradition of riding, would be exempt from farm rules on this one point.
And Ross owned the place, so he could do as he wanted when he rode. Customers, however, weren’t covered by the farm’s insurance if they were injured while riding without a helmet. And that father of hers would jump at the chance to sue Ross, if his attitude last month with reporters was any indication.

Jackson decided to follow Elizabeth and restate the rules. If he worried about her safety on the ride back, he assured himself it was only for Laurel Glen’s sake. If he once again pondered her odd response to seeing Cole happily absorbed in an outing with CJ, he forced his thoughts elsewhere. And if his mind stubbornly veered to unraveling the enigma that was Elizabeth Boyer, he chalked it up to nothing more than the kind of intellectual curiosity that made man dig up the artifacts of ancient civilizations.

By the time he got to the compound and turned his mount over to one of the handlers, Elizabeth was headed for the parking lot behind Stable Four. Jackson called out but she ignored him, continuing her graceful stalk toward her little car. She was about to slide in when he caught up to her.

Without a thought to the consequences, he reached out and caught her arm. Elizabeth pivoted almost violently and smacked into him. And that was how Jackson found himself with his arms full of desirable, angry woman.

She glared at him, indignation blazing in her gaze, and he did the only thing that for some inconceivable reason made sense to him. He lowered his head and kissed her. Instantly, Jackson regretted his strategy.
Her sharp intake of breath as his arms gathered her close seemed to rob him of air, and the feel of her softness against him just about blew the top off his head.

He’d wondered about her in a lot of ways but hadn’t let himself think about this. He’d known this path led to destruction and he’d been right!

But the next moment she stiffened as if she’d turned into an ice sculpture. Then she shoved him away so suddenly and so hard he fell back a couple steps—his mind barely functioning.

“How dare you?” she demanded frostily.

“You didn’t seem to mind at first. But I guess the men in your life aren’t as interchangeable as I thought. Tell me, did you freeze up like this with Cole after Jeff moved on to greener pastures? How long does it take you to switch to a new man?”

He could see fury catch fire and flash in her eyes. Then as if a switch had been flipped the heat turned icy. And then that infuriatingly cool demeanor of hers took over. “You assume it was Jeff who moved on. Did you know I only went out with him that last time to get an opportunity to connect with Cole? And once I did, Hope was welcome to him. I’ve never regretted my decision. Good day, Mr. Alton.”

Jackson didn’t stop her this time. In fact, he stood there staring after her, sorry he’d stopped her in the first place. It hurt. The way she’d frozen in his arms. The way she’d fiercely defended her relationship with Cole. It actually hurt. What had she done to him?

He didn’t live in a vacuum. He knew the way of
things in today’s world. And because he didn’t choose to live that way didn’t mean he still didn’t want the pleasures other men took for granted. He just didn’t choose to reach out and take them. And that didn’t mean it was an easy choice. Or wasn’t a lonely one.

In the next breath, Jackson found himself spun around and shoved against the nearby pasture fence. Cole’s very angry features filled Jackson’s vision.

“You leave Elizabeth alone. I won’t have her hurt. I’ve seen you two arguing before but I had no idea what it was about until now. I just saw you grab her and kiss her.”

Getting steamed at the direction of Cole’s accusation, Jackson shoved back. “What makes you think she didn’t want me to kiss her? I don’t force myself on women.”

“Maybe I’ve lived a charmed life but I’ve found most women don’t nearly take a guy’s head off if they want to be kissed.”

Jackson had to give him that. “Okay, point taken, but there was no force. I just kissed her. I guess I thought she wanted it as much as I did. Apparently I was wrong. She pushed me away and I let go. I’m sorry I stepped out of line with your…with Elizabeth,” he finished, uncomfortable with defining their relationship with Elizabeth as part of the equation.

Cole stared at him for a long moment. “Look, I’ve always been protective of her and I probably always will be, but what she does isn’t any of my business. I just don’t want her hurt. See that you don’t.” That said, his cousin stalked away.

Jackson was really confused. He leaned against the fence and hooked one heel behind him on the bottom rail, contemplating what had occurred. With the heat of the moment past, he realized that Cole’s words hadn’t been the warning of a jealous lover but more of an overprotective brother. And Jackson should know what one of those sounded like. He’d been one for twenty-nine years. Why weren’t either of them the least bit jealous when they saw the other with someone else? And why would Cole be protective of Elizabeth but not possessive? Was their relationship that open or was it that they had no relationship beyond friendship?

Meg Taggert watched and listened to Act Two of the little drama taking place in the parking area behind Stable Four. When Jack shoved Cole backward, she thought one of them would throw a punch and she’d have to step in, but instead they traded only angry words. When Cole warned Jack not to hurt Elizabeth, he confirmed something she’d begun to believe. Her nephew was using the young woman as a smoke screen to keep other women at bay and his family out of the matchmaking business.

Meg had grown suspicious when Hope told her Cole had openly spoken of kissing CJ Larson right in front of Elizabeth and that Elizabeth hadn’t turned a hair. Now she’d witnessed another kiss—this one between Jack Alton and Elizabeth. For some reason Elizabeth’s claims about her relationship with Cole rang even less true than Cole’s.

Meg got a good look at Elizabeth as she drove past. The young woman wasn’t angry—not with those tears so evidently streaming down her face and pain and despair written on her lovely features. There was something quite wrong there, and Meg decided she’d have to think of some way to help.

She also had to decide what to do about Jack Alton of Colorado. A near twin to Cole, he was the age of her lost child, sported Taggert-blue eyes and spoke with the voice of a man so wonderful, and reminded her of a love so deep that all others had paled in comparison ever since.

Meg had waited patiently for three weeks expecting him to come to her with questions. She dreaded them and welcomed them with equal portions of joy and fear. She’d prayed for just such a time when she’d open a door and find the child she’d given to others to raise thirty-two years earlier. Along with the gladness there was dread that he’d be angry and ultimately reject her after she answered his questions.

But thus far Jack had remained in the background doing a fine job as foreman. Tipping his hat in a lovely old-fashioned gesture when he saw her from afar but not approaching her. Meg was known for her patience, but her vast store of it was quickly running out.

She watched as Jack returned to the horse he’d left with one of the handlers. He took the reins and led the gelding to the snubbing post for a wash and a rubdown. He was so very conscientious and straightforward in his dealings with the men and his own
duties. She very much admired her son. But she worried about him, as well.

He’d looked confused and troubled standing there against the fence after Cole had left him. But since there was little she could do for him until he came to her, she turned her thoughts toward Elizabeth once again. Perhaps she could help there. Perhaps Elizabeth was ready for an invitation to church.