Always Remember (6 page)

Damn slip of the tongue. Old habits died hard.

She stilled, her attention shifting from the foal to his face. A self-conscious laugh that sounded awfully close to a sob escaped her.

Well, he guessed she was entitled to some emotion. After all, she’d stuck right with him, helped like a real trooper. Sort of like in the good old days when they’d worked side by side. He just hadn’t expected her to be quite so overwhelmed by the birth.

Hale stuck his head between them to get a better look at the foal. “Man, that was totally awesome. Sara’s gonna be real pissed she missed this.”

Yeah, Sara was going to be pissed all right. She’d missed the birth because her father had been too afraid to face the past head on.

Her
mare.
Her
foal. Maybe he’d just take a vacation before she got home and avoid the lecture she was sure to give him. He looked up, caught the curiosity in Jessie’s eyes, and silently cursed.

He’d have to talk with the boy, come up with a logical explanation why he shouldn’t mention Sara around Jessie, something that wouldn’t make the kid curious. Nate turned his concentration back to the wiggling filly and laid her down on the hay near the mare. He grabbed a towel and started wiping the birth fluid from his arms and shirtfront. Across from him, Jessie laid the mare’s head on the straw, and crawled on her hands and knees to get a better look at the newborn.

The neck of the threadbare T-shirt she wore sagged, affording him a perfect view inside. Her breasts were free of the constraints of a bra, soft mounds of flesh his hands itched to touch.

Ignoring her was impossible. Her scent wafted around him. Her excitement brought a ready smile to his face and an easiness to his mood. If only he could climb inside that old T-shirt, bury his head between—

Whoa, wrong place to go.
The last thing he needed was the complication of Jessie in his life, no matter how temporary or satisfying it might be.

A shiver passed over him, his sweat-soaked T-shirt affording little protection against the cool night air. He turned away from Jessie toward Hale and frowned.

Apparently the kid hadn’t missed the show either. Nate gritted his teeth together.
Get your own girl, boy.

Checking the urge to swat the kid on the back of the head, he elbowed Hale in the ribs. The kid jerked, a slow flush working into his cheeks, unable to quite meet Nate’s eyes. “Boy, you get the job of cleaning her up.”

Hale’s gaze centered on Jessie’s revealing neckline again and his mouth sagged open.

“The foal, not the filly,” Nate muttered as Jessie reached his side and sat back on her haunches. The material molded to the contours of her breasts and Nate snapped his own mouth shut.

His palms started itching again and he closed his hands into fists.
Off limits. No touching allowed.
Harley was wrong. He’d gotten over Jessie a long time ago. But if she was willing...they were two consenting adults, after all.

Nate clamped down on the urge to listen to his body instead of his brain and caught Hale watching her again. “Damn it, Hale, I gave you a job to do. Get moving.”

The boy scrambled to his feet. “How, sir?”

Any moment now, he expected the boy to salute him. Nate lurched to his feet and forced himself to concentrate on the foal and mare.

The newborn struggled to her feet, her long, thin legs wobbling unsteadily. But even as he looked for signs of trouble in the foal, explained to Hale all he should watch for, he found himself distracted by Jessie as she wiped the foal down.

She looked up just then and smiled at him. “She needs a name.”

The brain in his head clicked in. “What?”

“We need to name her,” Jessie repeated.

He clenched his jaw. It wasn’t her place to name the filly. The mare, and any offspring she produced, belonged to Sara. And Jessie would never have anything to do with Sara, not if he could help it.

The mare struggled to get to her feet. Nate bent to give her a push and attempted to focus on the things he had to do to keep the mare and newborn healthy. “Hale and I can take it from here. Thanks for your help, Jess.”

The dismissive tone of his words was deliberate. But he didn’t realize how much he’d miss her presence until she’d fled the barn without saying a word.

Six hours later, Nate stared at the newborn filly mewling for her mother.

How did he explain this to Sara? He’d sent her on that ski trip with the promise he’d take care of Morning Glory.
Her best friend.

He’d screwed up. Big time. She’d condemn him in that scolding, self-righteous tone she used whenever she decided something was his fault. Sometimes, she reminded him so much of her grandmother, it was downright scary.

Moisture gathered at the back of his eyes. He blinked it away and turned his attention to the stallion in the opposite stall. “Looks like you got a daughter to raise, Diablo. What do you think of that?”

The stallion bumped against the stall door, then turned away, head hung low.

Damned if the beast didn’t appear as nervous as Nate had been seventeen years ago when he’d brought Sara home from the hospital.

Curled up on the porch swing, Jessie wrapped her fingers around a cup of steaming coffee, seeking its warmth.

Why had Nate chased her away last night? Because she wasn’t Sara? Even Hale knew about the woman named Sara. If only she’d questioned the boy when she’d had a chance.

No, best if she didn’t. She tugged at the neck of the jacket, snugged it around her throat in an effort to keep out the cool morning air. Heavy with dew, it seeped into her soul, made her shiver.

From around the corner of the stable, Nate appeared. He stopped in the middle of the yard, pushed back the brim of his hat, and squinted up at the early dawn sky as though to gauge the time of day. Working the muscles in his arms, he stretched and shifted his attention to the porch where Jessie sat.

She hunched her shoulders.
Please, dear God, don’t let him come my way.

Alarm settled deep in Jessie’s stomach as he started her way. Probably to give her an earful over whatever she’d done to upset him. He halted at the bottom of the steps, stared at her as though he regretted coming over.

Sympathy rumbled through her. She could read his exhaustion in the slope of his shoulders, the languid movements of his limbs, the lines of weariness bracketing his eyes. She ignored the urge to offer him a shoulder to rest his head on. “Did you get any sleep yet?”

“Nope.” He glanced at the cup in her hand. “Got an extra one of those?”

“You look like you need a bed, not coffee.”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a semblance of a smile. A spark lit his gaze, banished the tiredness from his stance. “You offering yours?”

Jessie took a deep breath, willed herself not to answer in the positive. How long would she have to pay the price for what she’d done? Forever?

He shrugged, looked suddenly self-conscious. “Never mind. I’ll leave you alone.”

She leaped to her feet, surprised that she didn’t want him to leave. But first, she needed a moment — or a lifetime — in which to gather herself together again. “Coffee. Coming right up. Don’t you dare go anywhere.”

Nate dropped onto the swing seat, every muscle in his body aching with exhaustion. Dragging off his hat, he tossed it onto a nearby chair and raked his fingers through his hair.

That was a stupid. No wonder she’d run into the house like the devil was chasing her. What was he doing here, anyway? Seeking comfort? He shouldn’t want anything from her. He
didn’t
want anything from her.

Did he?

The click of the screen door jostled him awake. He blinked, groggy, and glanced up as Jessie walked his way. For just a moment, he caught an image of the girl she’d once been — happy and in love, her entire future entwined with his.

He straightened on the seat, pulled his legs out of the way so she didn’t have to climb over them. Accepting the cup from her outstretched hand, he welcomed the distraction of the hot fluid as it burned a path down his throat.

Beside him, Jessie was silent, staring out at the valley as though gaining strength from its presence. Perhaps she did. Once, she’d told him the best part about a vacation away from the ranch was the moment she came home, back to the foothills and the mountains just beyond their back yard.

So where did he start?

When she’d left and taken his heart along with her? Nope, too late for that, too much at stake. Better that he stick to what he’d come to say, then hightail it off to bed.

His bed, not hers. He shifted into a more comfortable position, one arm resting on the bench back. Between his thumb and forefinger, he caught a lock of hair that curled over her shoulder. “Morning Glory didn’t make it.”

Her gaze swiveled his way. “I’m sorry. What happened?”

“Complications. Called the doc again. He would’ve come if he could. Must’ve been out on an emergency.”

Maybe she didn’t show the emotion on her face, but she couldn’t hide the break in her voice or the unshed tears shimmering in her eyes. Hadn’t he always felt this way about her, ever since he first laid eyes on her — afraid of getting too close, but too weak to stay away?

Straightening on the seat, stretching his legs out before him, he frowned down at the coffee mug, stuck for words to explain, even to himself, that he wanted her right next to him where she’d always belonged. As crazy as it seemed, he wanted his old life back the way it was before she’d reached for a dream and forgotten to take him along.

“Nate, about last night. I’m sorry I upset you. What happened in there? Why did you chase me out?”

Nate felt something in him crack wide open. The urge to take her into his arms and apologize for chasing her out of the stable got stuck in the thickness of his throat. He was tired. That had to be it. He shouldn’t have faced her until he’d gotten a few hours sleep.

But would that have made a difference?

“Nate, whatever I did, I’m sorry if I upset you. I’m sorry I came home and disrupted things. I’m sorry for...so much.” She looked at him, her eyes wide and apologetic, her hands clenched tight in her lap. “Maybe I should pack my things and leave. I mean, you’re here. Harley’s here. Mom and Dad, do they really need me?”

He pressed his thumb and index finger against his eyelids and tried to think, not with his heart, but with his head. God, he was tired. He didn’t have the energy right now to fight her and fight himself.

Beside him, Jessie pushed to her feet. Without thought, he caught her hand before she could escape.

“Jess, the filly needs someone to take care of her. Hale’s with her now, but he doesn’t know enough.” He pushed to his feet and enclosed her cold hand between his. There wasn’t a hint of expression on her face, as if she’d closed a door and shut him out of her life once again. “You’re welcome to — hell, if you want, I mean — you’re welcome to take care of the filly while you’re here.”

Like sunshine after a rain, she turned radiant, as though he’d just showered her with diamonds instead of asking her to work. If that was all it took to keep the warmth in her eyes and the glow on her face, then he’d be sure to give her enough chores to keep her busy and content.

“Really?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Sure, why not? Maude sleeps almost all of the time. Sam works during the day. You’ll have lots of time to kill.”

She looked away from him, back toward the stable, and pulled her hand free. “I’ll try to stay out of your way.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes...yes, I do.” Her bottom lip quivered and she took a deep breath before facing him again. Behind her, the sun rose over the mountaintop and shone a halo over her head. “Nate, who is Sara?”

The warning bells went off in his head, and those parental and over protective instincts he’d honed for the last seventeen years finally kicked in. “None of your business, Jess.”

With a sharp nod of her head, she shoved her hands into the front pockets of her jeans, and glanced toward the barn. “This is really hard for me, Nate. I didn’t except to feel...anything. Perhaps it’s best if we stay out of each other’s way. At least, then, I’ll be able to leave with—”