Jake (6 page)

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Authors: R. C. Ryan

BOOK: Jake
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At his words, the boy fairly skipped up the steps toward the back door of the house.

“I think,” Jake said in an aside to Meg, “I’ve just found something that excites him even more than the thought of good food.”

Instead of the smile he was expecting, Jake noticed Meg’s frown as she chewed on her lower lip. A sure sign that her nerves had returned.

“Hey. You’re among friends here. Nobody’s going to bite you.” He touched a hand to hers. Just a touch, but he felt a sudden spark. A rush of heat that had nothing to do with the weather.

He glanced over to see the way her eyes went wide.

He’d never thought of himself as a mind reader, but he’d become very good at reading people’s expressions. From the look on Meg Stanford’s face, he was pretty certain that she’d just felt the same shock.

And wasn’t at all happy about it.

She kept her tone low so Cory wouldn’t overhear. “I seem to recall overhearing my father talking about your family when I was a kid. From the things he said, I figured there was no love lost between our families.”

“Yesterday’s news.” Jake deliberately put a hand under her elbow, forcing himself to absorb yet another spark. “Whatever happened in the past will stay there. Now relax and enjoy a friendly visit with your neighbors.”

Before she could respond he pushed open the door and led the way through the spotless mudroom and into the kitchen, where the chorus of voices told him that the entire Conway family had already assembled for lunch.

Chapter Four

Well, boyo.” Big Jim was the first to spot Jake. Setting aside his coffee he crossed the room to offer a smile to the woman and boy who stood slightly behind his grandson. “Who’ve we got here?”

“Big Jim, this is Meg and Cory Stanford.”

“Nice to meet both of you. I’m sorry for your loss.” Big Jim offered each a handshake before returning his attention to Meg. “Last time I saw you, you were about this lad’s age.”

Meg smiled. “My mother and I left Wyoming when I was ten.”

Jake turned to include his father in the introductions. “Meg and Cory, this is my pa, Cole Conway.”

As he shook their hands Cole said, “I’m sorry you had to come home for such a sad occasion.”

“Thank you.”

Jake continued the introductions. “This is my brother, Quinn, and his wife, Cheyenne, and my brother Josh and his bride, Sierra.”

Each in turn offered a few words of sympathy.

“And the two women who are the queens of their domain, and manage to feed us while keeping us in our place, are Phoebe and Ela.”

Meg returned the smiles of the two older women. “I’m sorry to barge in on you like this at mealtime.”

“You aren’t barging,” Phoebe insisted. “Jake called us to say you were coming. And even if he hadn’t, he knows we always cook enough to feed an army.”

Phoebe pointed to a tray on the counter, containing frosty glasses of lemonade. “Please help yourselves to something to drink. Lunch is just about ready.”

When neither of his guests made a move to help themselves, Jake picked up two glasses and held them out. Cory and Meg each accepted one from his hand with a smile of thanks.

Cole set aside his empty glass. “Have you set a day for the funeral?”

“I spoke with Reverend Cornell at the Paintbrush Church, and he suggested I wait until Monday, since he had a wedding to perform today.”

“Thibault Baxter’s granddaughter,” Phoebe put in. “Only eighteen, but her boyfriend enlisted and has only a couple of days before he’s assigned overseas. She’s borrowing her best friend’s gown, since they had no time to plan anything on such short notice.”

Big Jim shot their housekeeper a grin. “Been talking to Flora, have you?”

“Of course. Where else would I learn all this?” Phoebe’s cheeks reddened before she bent to the oven.

Within minutes the two women had filled platters with fried chicken, roasted potatoes, and a basket of Ela’s corn bread. In the middle of the lazy Susan they placed an enormous salad and a stack of salad bowls.

“Lunch is ready,” Phoebe called.

The family needed no coaxing as they circled the table and began to take their places.

Jake held a chair for Meg and indicated one to her left for Cory. When they were seated, Jake took a chair to the right of Meg.

As they began filling salad bowls and passing platters, they all seemed to be talking at once.

“That garden’s looking mighty fine, Phoebe.”

The housekeeper smiled. “Thanks to Jake, who came to my rescue and tilled all the soil.”

Quinn nudged Josh. “There he goes again. Kissing Phoebe’s—” at a narrowed look from Big Jim he said quickly “—hand, hoping to earn points.”

“Or a bigger slice of her strawberry pie,” Josh added.

“Correct on both counts,” Jake said smugly. To Meg he whispered loudly, “It pays to be the youngest. You watch your elders and learn all the tricks of the trade.”

He winked at Cory, and the boy couldn’t hold back a grin.

“I was up in the hills yesterday.” Quinn held the salad while his wife filled her bowl. “Actually, Cheyenne and I were up there together trailing our pack…”

Cory’s head came up sharply. “Pack?”

“Wolf pack,” Quinn explained.

“You have a wolf pack?” Cory’s eyes were as big as saucers.

“They don’t know they’re mine,” Quinn laughed.

“My big brother is a naturalist, when he isn’t ranching,” Jake said. “He’s been studying the life cycle of wolves for years. And I know this is hard to believe, but he was able to find a woman who’s as crazy as he is. So the two of them actually hike into the hills and observe a pack of wolves while the wolves hunt and eat and sleep and do all kinds of ordinary wolf things, which Quinn and Cheyenne record and share with other naturalists.” In a stage whisper Jake added, “Or, as we like to call them, other crazy wolf people.”

That had everyone laughing while Cory stared at Quinn with a look that ranged from admiration to astonishment.

Quinn winked at the boy. “Jake’s just jealous because I won’t let him go along to doctor the wolves. If my little brother had his way, he’d have the barn filled with all kinds of sick critters that would have to be confined or they’d end up eating him and our livestock as soon as they were healed.”

“Not that he hasn’t tried that a number of times,” Josh said with a laugh. “Oh, Cory, the stories we could tell about Jake.”

The little boy grinned as the conversation drifted to the herds and the rangeland.

Quinn nodded toward the window. “Cheyenne and I found the herds looking fat and sleek up in the hills. I think the rangeland is the greenest I’ve ever seen.”

Big Jim was smiling. “Lots of snow this past winter and the spring rains gave us just what we needed. This may be one of our best years ever.” He glanced down the table at Meg. “How about your herds? Have you had a chance to look them over?”

Meg flushed. “No. Sorry. I’ve been wrestling with my father’s paperwork, or rather, the jumbled mess he called his paperwork.”

Cole arched a brow. “That doesn’t sound like the Porter Stanford I knew. He may have been cantankerous, but he was a stickler for rules and order. One time we needed to produce a deed for a tract of land that had come under question by the court, and he was able to produce it before our law firm could find our copy.” Cole glanced at his father, seated at the head of the table. “Do you remember that?”

Big Jim chuckled. “How could I forget? I was the one who’d questioned the ownership of the parcel. I was sure it was part of our holdings, and when I took the issue to Judge Bolton, he ordered me to produce proof. While I was still describing the parcel to my lawyer, Porter was already in the courtroom with his copy of the deed.”

Meg nodded. “Funny. I’d forgotten how often he’d say, in that stern voice, ‘A place for everything and everything in its place, girl. Nobody around here is allowed to suffer from dropsy.’”

Cory turned wide eyes to his sister. “He said that to you, too?”

Meg sighed. “Oh yeah. It’s all coming back to me.”

“What’s dropsy?” Sierra asked.

“Dropping things on the floor or counter, or bed or table, instead of putting them away in a cupboard or closet or drawer.” Meg shook her head. “My biggest offense in his eyes was dropping my coat and scarf and mittens by the back door. He would stand at the foot of the stairs and order me to come down at once and hang up my things where they belonged.”

“Sounds like Big Jim in the equipment barn.” Josh glanced at his brothers for confirmation. “Every truck, every tractor, has to be parked just so. And no matter how small the tool, everything has to be returned to the proper shelf, or we hear about it.” He helped himself to a hunk of corn bread. “Remember the time Jake left the old green tractor out in the north field?”

Jake gave a mock shudder. “It was just my luck that Big Jim was flying in that very evening and saw the empty tractor sitting there unattended.”

Quinn picked up the thread of the story. “Big Jim came charging into the house like a wounded bear demanding to know which of his damned fool grandsons had lost his mind and abandoned a tractor without bothering to clean it up and return it to the barn.”

Phoebe gave a laugh and continued the story. “And I had just returned from a terrifying drive all the way to town to Dr. Walton’s clinic and back with Jake’s poor face swollen up three times its normal size after he’d unknowingly driven that tractor into a hornet’s nest.”

Big Jim started laughing as the memory washed over him. “I took one look at poor Jake, who looked like one of those actors in a horror show, and then saw the way Phoebe was ready to go to war for her boy, and decided I’d better hightail it out of the house until tempers cooled. I spent the next two hours driving the tractor back to the barn and cleaning it up. By the time I came in, the house was quiet, everyone had gone to bed, and I was left to eat a cold meal and face an even colder reception the next morning.”

“As I recall,” Jake added with a laugh, “I still got the lecture about returning equipment to the barn, and an added lecture about keeping an eye on the unknown dangers lurking all around us.”

“Which didn’t help where you were concerned,” Cole added dryly. “Of all my sons, you seemed the most likely to step on a nest of snakes, or stumble into a cave and wake a sleeping bear.”

Cory’s eyes went wide. “You woke a bear?”

Jake grinned. “Only once. And he was just a little cub.”

“Sleeping next to his mother, who as I recall,” Quinn said, “weighed more than that tractor.”

Josh roared with laughter. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you run that fast, bro.”

“I managed to outrun the bear, didn’t I?” Jake asked.

“Barely. And only because she was still groggy from hibernation.”

The rest of the family joined in the laughter.

  

As the talk continued swirling around them, Meg sat back, listening to the easy banter among these family members. It was obvious that they enjoyed one another’s company. And for all their teasing about their grandfather’s strict rules, they had real affection for him. It was something that had been sadly lacking in her own family while growing up. Bickering between her parents had become a way of life, until it had become impossible to carry on a simple conversation.

Phoebe began cutting slices of an enormous chocolate layer cake. “Our dessert today is compliments of Otis Fanning’s niece, Amy Jo. She drove all the way over here today, hoping to deliver it personally to her uncle’s favorite veterinarian, Dr. Jake.” Her eyes danced. “Imagine her disappointment to learn that Jake wasn’t home. Which means, of course, that she’ll probably have to devise a reason to bake something equally extravagant next week.”

“Another admirer, bro?” Quinn nudged his wife. “How old is this one?”

“Apparently old enough to drive,” Josh put in with a laugh.

Jake joined their laughter. “Amy Jo’s eighteen, and heading off to college in the fall.”

“They keep getting younger and younger.” Josh turned to Sierra. “How old was the one who brought the rhubarb pie last week?”

“Fifteen. But that didn’t count,” Sierra said with a straight face. “I think coming here was her mama’s idea.”

That had everyone laughing.

Jake shook his head. “As I’ve said, it’s my curse. I can’t help it if the entire population of Paintbrush worships at my feet.”

“A fifteen-year-old?” Quinn said in feigned surprise. “And her mother?”

“You’re just jealous because I get the best gifts. But don’t despair, bro.” Jake winked at Cory. “That ninety-two-year-old naturalist out in California offered to send you her recipe for trail mix.”

That had everyone howling.

While Meg watched, Ela paused beside Cory’s place at the table and held out the plate of cake slices. When he started to reach for the smallest piece, the old woman gave a quick shake of her head. He quickly lowered his hand to his lap. Without a word the old woman used silver tongs to drop two big slices on his plate. When he shot her a look of surprise, her wrinkled, parchment face relaxed into a wide smile before she moved on.

Meg marveled at the fact that those two had communicated without using a single word. Yet here she was, a lawyer accustomed to using words to persuade a jury of strangers, and she seemed utterly incapable of getting through to this solemn little boy.

She glanced at Jake as he enjoyed his dessert. He obviously reveled in his role of ladies’ man. She wasn’t surprised. Hadn’t he caught her eye at their very first meeting?

Big Jim eyed Meg over the rim of his cup. “You and Cory planning on running your father’s ranch?”

Meg looked startled. “I haven’t even considered such a thing.”

The old man set down his cup. “Just what are you planning on doing with it?”

Meg could feel the tension returning to a spot between her shoulders. It happened every time she allowed herself to think about what she had to deal with. A huge, neglected ranch, and a half brother who was a stranger to her. Of the two, the boy was a much bigger challenge than the ranch. Though he’d revealed very little, it was obvious that Cory was scared and hurt by the losses he’d endured in his young life. The thought of transplanting him from everything that was familiar and comforting to a strange new life in a big city hurt her as much as she knew it would hurt him. But, for now, she couldn’t think of any other solution.

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