Picnic in Someday Valley (Honey Creek #2)(70)

She had to know that he cared about her from the night they met, and that caring had nothing to do with the job.

Maybe he hadn’t told her, but he’d shown her. He’d never cared about someone so deeply. She’d rocked his world when they’d made love, and now she turned away as if she barely remembered him.

Piper stepped into the big house where all the Mackenzie women lived. He couldn’t help but think that she’d grow old there. She was married to her job. She’d make a great governor of Texas one day.

He wanted to yell and demand she come back out and talk to him. But he had the feeling if he yelled, one of the old ladies would rush out and bop him on the head with her cane.

As he walked back to his bike, he thought about what his mother would never have the opportunity to say. Piper was a classic beauty, but she’d never be his.

Strange, Colby thought. At the moment I lost her, I finally realized that I love her.





Chapter 43


Jesse


Fifteen-year-old Star Summers stumbled into Jesse’s kitchen looking like she’d been on a three-day drunk. Strands of her hair created a stringy curtain over her sunburned face and the eye makeup she’d had on yesterday had drifted down her cheeks. For a moment Jesse thought she might be auditioning for a part in a horror film. You know, the unnamed teenager who runs the wrong way and bangs into the monster in the first scene.

“Morning,” he said, fighting down a smile.

“What’s good about it? Sunny Lyn woke me up jumping on my bed. When that didn’t work, she tried talking me awake.” She sneered at him. “Who taught that kid to talk?”

“Sorry about that. I forgot to tell you she’s our alarm clock around here. You want orange juice or coffee?”

The teenager kept glaring at him. “Coffee, of course, I’m not a child.”

He figured if she was old enough to run away, she was old enough to drink coffee.

When he slid the cup across the bar, Adalee’s little sister almost smiled. She added milk and three spoons of sugar, as his kids gathered around her. Zak stared at her like he’d discovered a new life form. Danny seemed to think she was their new pet, and Sunny Lyn climbed up in her lap.

Star calmly accepted the kids as if they were extra appendages. They’d circled her all day yesterday, so it must feel normal by now.

Jesse passed out juices and set the makings for breakfast burritos in the center of the bar. The kids each made their own burrito. Zak added a touch of hot sauce to his meat and cheese. Danny liked extra cheese and lettuce on his eggs, and Sunny Lyn put blueberry jam in hers.

Star made a face when the four-year-old offered her a bite.

Jesse couldn’t hold back a laugh as he went over what the plans were for the day. Care for the horses, of course. Three had been picked up yesterday, heading back home, and two new ones came in. The owner had bought them for his kids, but the mare needed some gentling first. He booked two weeks at the horse hotel for both horses.

With Star keeping an eye on Sunny Lyn, Zak, and Danny, Jesse could get a few stalls cleaned out and ready in case they were needed. He’d had several calls. Who knew horse hotels were in demand?

As he went down the list of chores to do, Star interrupted. “You make your kids work?”

“Everyone works on a farm.”

“Why?”

Jesse smiled and repeated what his dad used to say. “We share the fun.”

“Yeah,” Danny said. “As soon as that kid pops out, I get to name it.”

“What kid?” Star looked around as if she’d miscounted.

“The baby goat,” Jesse explained, then shook his head. “City girl.”

“Farmer,” she shot back.

As days off from school often did, daylight passed with chores and fun. While Jesse cleaned out all the stalls, Star let each of his children ride Princess when she walked the horse around the corral. The royal guest was as gentle as a rocking horse. When Star lifted Sunny Lyn up to kiss the horse goodbye, Princess shook her mane so hard all the kids laughed.

All morning he heard laughter. When they sat down for a lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on the porch, one invisible chip seemed to have fallen off Star’s shoulder. Once, Jesse looked up and saw all three of his kids following Star to an old windmill, like ducks in a row.

Jesse didn’t ask her questions; they just drifted through the hours. She sometimes played with the kids and sometimes helped him. Again and again he saw how much she loved animals.

When she asked if she could ride one of the horses outside the corral, he said, “Sure, if you can saddle him.”

“I can do that, farmer, if you show me. It’s not a skill we learn in school.”

“It’s a pity,” he said as he began the lesson. “You don’t do this right, or don’t double check, or do something stupid to scare the horse, he’ll toss you off. When that happens, I don’t want to hear any complaining.”

“Agreed.”

“Stay in sight of the house.”

“Agreed.”

Jesse thought of another ten things to tell her, but he figured she’d stopped listening. As he boosted her into the saddle, he said, “Get to know him. Remember, he wants to work with you.”

As he’d expected, the wild teenager was gentle with the horse and the bay wasn’t even sweating when she brought him back to the barn.