A Weaver Baby Page 12

  Which had her emotions clutching at something nameless just as surely as they had in Tara’s shop.

  “Damn it, Bonneville,” Ryan’s annoyed voice broke the spell and she looked over to see him pushing aside the horse. “Somebody ought to bite you back,” he groused as he slammed the stall gate shut.

  Jake’s hand fell away from J.D.’s hair and they quickly finished bedding down the animals before heading back to the warmth of the house.

  J.D. didn’t want to let herself think about just how cozy it all felt.

  She threw together a quick dinner of biscuits and beef stew and the snow just came down harder. “Decide between you who gets the guest room and who gets the couch,” she told them as she was washing up afterward.

  Despite her efforts at nonchalance, her gaze caught on Jake’s and she quickly looked back at the sudsy water in the sink. “There’s a packing box in the mudroom still that has extra sheets and blankets.” She still had things she was unpacking and at that particular moment, she was glad that she hadn’t gotten to the point of decorating the extra bedroom as a nursery.

  In the reflection of the window above the sink, she saw Ryan push away from the table and go into the mudroom. He came back with a stack of bedding from the box, as well as the bag from Classic Charms, which he dropped on the kitchen table. “Don’t think there’s a woman in our family who can go by Tara’s shop without buying something,” he said with faint humor before disappearing down the hall.

  Jake glanced inside the bag. “What’d you get?”

  She practically snatched the bag out of his hands. “Nothing.”

  His eyebrow peaked. “What are you afraid of? That I’ll see you bought some frilly piece of lingerie or something?”

  “I don’t do frilly,” she said witheringly.

  A glint came into his eyes that had heat blasting through her. “I remember exactly what you do.”

  She clutched the bag to her chest and tore out of the room like the hounds of hell were at her heels. It didn’t help at all that the sound of Jake’s low laughter trailed her only by a nose.

  Chapter Eleven

  The snow lasted for three days.

  Which meant, essentially, that J.D. had houseguests for three days.

  Ryan was no bother. He kept himself practically invisible unless he was sitting at the table eating with her and Jake. She found herself wishing her cousin would be around a little more often, because she could have used an extra buffer against Jake’s proximity.

  Her only escape from the disturbing man was when she’d exercise and groom the horses because that’s usually when Jake disappeared with his computer and cell phone, taking care of what Forco business that his sister, Charlotte, couldn’t.

  By the time the snow stopped and the roads were cleared for more than an hour at a time, and both of her houseguests could return to their usual non-luxurious digs at the Sleep Tite, J.D. was pathetically grateful for the reprieve.

  Only as proof of her contrary emotions, instead of sleeping better at night knowing that Jake wasn’t just a few feet away in the room next to hers, she felt his absence even more acutely.

  By the time the afternoon before Thanksgiving rolled around, she was about ready to come out of her skin.

  The following day, the family would have a huge, traditional meal at the Double-C, which was pretty much the only place left where their sheer numbers could still comfortably gather together inside. Plus, it gave her grandfather—who still lived there along with Gloria, even though the massive ranch was really run now by his son, Matthew—a chance to wear his patriarch hat, which was something the cantankerous old man loved doing.

  J.D.’s contribution to the inevitable feast was the four apple pies she’d made from scratch that were sitting on the counter in the kitchen. She’d had plenty of time to make them, wandering around her very empty house in the middle of the night while peaceful sleep eluded her.

  She’d mucked out the stalls, the horses were groomed, and restlessness plagued her. She could have gone into the house to take care of her bookkeeping—it was time to send out her invoices—but sitting at a desk held zero appeal. Plus, Jake was inside, working at the kitchen table in what he had sort of turned into his office away from home.

  Restlessness plaguing her, she went out to the corral and whistled for Ziggy. He and Latitude both trotted over and J.D. let Ziggy out of the gate, holding back an eager Latitude. “Sorry, handsome,” she told him, scrubbing her hand down his neck. “Not this time.”

  He huffed out a breath and hung his head over the fence, watching as she saddled up Ziggy. But when Bonneville trotted past him, he jerked his head around and jogged after the other horse. Even with his leg screwed together in a cast, Lat wanted to compete.

  The fact that he did was just more proof of the young horse’s incredible will.

  J.D. swung up onto Ziggy and rode him over to the back of the house and knocked on the kitchen window.

  All she intended to do was let Jake know that she was going out for a short ride.

  But when he came over to the window to look out at her, the words to emerge weren’t at all that simple. “Want to go for a ride?” She spoke loud enough to be heard through the window.

  He drew his brows drew together. “What?”

  Ziggy shifted beneath her. He was clearly anxious to get moving and standing next to the house while she peered up into the kitchen window wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. “Or has it been so long you don’t remember how to ride?”

  “I remember.”

  She pulled Ziggy around into a tight circle, still eyeing Jake. “Well?”

  His gaze narrowed. “I’m not riding that godforsaken Bonneville,” he said. “Damn horse tried to take a bite out of my jacket yesterday.”

  It wasn’t a flat-out “no,” and she was appalled at the giddiness that fluttered through her stomach. “You can take Ziggy, here. I’ll run out Hepburn.” The mare was one of her boarders and a sweet one to exercise.

  When he gave a short nod and moved away from the window, her giddiness quadrupled.

  She clucked to Ziggy and he headed reluctantly back to the barn. She was nearly finished saddling Hepburn when Jake joined her. He’d pulled on his shearling coat and leather gloves, but left his head bare. And she just felt uncommonly nervous. “I have several English saddles if you prefer one.”

  “This is fine.”

  “You’ve ridden western before?”

  His eyes crinkled a little. “Is that so hard to believe?”

  She flipped down the stirrup and gathered Hepburn’s reins. “It’s not quite what I expected.” There were a lot of things about Jake that weren’t quite what she expected. And it was causing her some consternation. “We won’t go far,” she said, leading Hepburn out of the barn and keeping a weather eye out on Jake with Ziggy. “Do you want a leg up?”

  “I haven’t ridden since the dark ages, but I think I can handle it.” His voice was even drier. “Do you?”

  In answer, she smoothly swung up into the saddle. And darned if she didn’t have to swallow a little harder at the sight of Jake easily doing the same. “In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you astride a horse.”

  “And watching you ride in the mornings at Forrest’s Crossing was one of the best parts of my day,” he returned blandly. “Where’re we headed?”

  Thoroughly sidetracked by the disturbing notion that he’d watched her at all, she aimed toward the open field beyond the riding arena. They still had a few hours of strong light left, and the sun felt good and warm against the crisp air.

  They rode in silence for quite a while though J.D. kept sneaking looks at Jake’s face. His thoughts looked like they were elsewhere, though, so she was surprised when he was the one to break the silence. “Is this still your property?”

  “I wish.” She pointed toward a line of trees they’d passed a while back. “That shelter belt there is the property line. Now we’re on Johnny Hanks’ land.” Sh
e looked across the acreage. “He’s trying to sell. I thought about buying it instead of my place. It’s a great piece of land. But the house needed more work than I had time—than I wanted to deal with,” she amended quickly. And selfishly, she hoped the spread would still be available when she was able to afford it.

  “What’s so great about it?”

  She lifted her shoulder. “There’s water, for one thing. Stream runs across about a third of the way back. It’s good grazing. Could have a lot of horses out here.”

  “Thought you said you were finished with racing.”

  “I am. But there’s plenty of other training I can do. And—” She broke off.

  His gaze sharpened on her face. “And, what?”

  “Well, you’re going to think it’s a waste, probably, but I’ve been thinking about starting up a horse rescue operation someday.”

  His lips tightened. “Hell of an opinion you must have of me, J.D. What do you think I want to do? Send every nag off to the glue factory?”

  “No!” She wished she’d kept her mouth shut. “I’m sorry. That just didn’t come out right. I only meant that I know your interest in horses is more…less…” She let out a breath. No matter what she tried to say, it was going to come out wrong.

  “I’m in it for the money?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Horseracing is in the Forrest blood,” he said. “My grandfather. My father. Me.”

  “That’s why you want the Derby so badly? To follow in their footsteps?”

  “That’s the only remaining difference between my father and me.”

  She studied him for a moment. “You don’t look particularly happy. Is it the difference or the similarities that are so objectionable?”

  “There you go again, looking for stuff that’s not there.”

  “And there you go again with the cynicism. I know, I know.” She waved a hand before he could comment. “Because you are your father’s son.”

  “Can’t deny blood.”

  She looked away. Wasn’t she guilty of thinking the same thing about herself? She cleared her throat. Shifted in the saddle and earned a look from Hepburn. “How else are you like him?”

  “Named for him. Look like him. Have all of his best—” his voice implied something much less positive “—traits. My sons hate me just like I hated him.”

  Her heart squeezed. “You are so wrong about that, Jake.” She’d seen for herself just the opposite. “Zach and Connor don’t hate you.”

  He frowned. “Ask ’em.”

  “Maybe I would,” she returned rapidly, “if they were around to ask. Then you could see that I’m right. Zach and Connor need a father, Jake. They need you.”

  “The father that mattered to them was Adam.”

  “And he’s gone. Their mother is still convalescing and will be for months. They’re grieving and they need to know that you are their father and that it’s okay for them to have loved you both!”

  “That implies that they’ve ever loved me.”

  “Have you even let them know you?” She leaned toward him, rocking slightly with the horse’s plodding steps. “How often did you go visit them once you and Tiffany split up? Once a year? Twice?” She’d be willing to bet money that it hadn’t been more often than that. And she knew for a fact how many times they’d been to Forrest’s Crossing since then. Once. And that was when Jake had brought them back after the car accident. “How could they know you when you’ve intentionally kept yourself out of their lives?”

  He just shook his head as if she were suggesting pure nonsense and lifted his hand, pointing into the distance. “Is that the creek over there?”

  She nodded.

  “Bet I can beat you there.” He didn’t wait for her answer, but launched Ziggy off across the smooth field.

  Disconcerted by his abruptness, it took a second before J.D. sent Hepburn after them.

  If she’d had any worries that Jake was out of practice on horseback, they were quickly banished.

  The man rode beautifully. Expertly.

  And she focused a little harder as adrenaline started gathering inside her. Hepburn was younger than Ziggy though not as naturally speedy, but carrying Jake, who was considerably larger and heavier than J.D., left them well matched. A competitive spark shot through her veins, particularly when Hepburn edged alongside Ziggy and Jake sent her a sideways look.

  “Don’t be so sure,” she called, bending low over Hepburn’s neck, urging her faster. Neither Ziggy nor Jake were going to be outdone, though, and they traded the inch-lead back and forth as chunks of snow kicked up from beneath pounding hooves. By the time J.D. reined in Hepburn just seconds behind Ziggy, she was laughing breathlessly. “You’re a hustler,” she accused as he dismounted.

  “Credit the horse.” Before she could protest, he’d lifted her right off of Hepburn and set her on the ground. His gaze seemed to focus on her lips, and her heart was suddenly racing for a brand new reason. “And yes, I like to win. Just like my old man.” He slid his finger beneath a lock of hair straying across her cheek, slowly twirling along the curl.

  Her lips seemed to tingle. She wanted his kiss so badly she could taste it. And because she did, she made herself move away.

  It took every bit of strength she possessed.

  She ducked around Jake’s wide shoulder and gathered up Hepburn’s and Ziggy’s reins, walking them to a well-graveled curve in the creek bed that allowed easier access to the flowing water. Despite the cold temperature, both horses drank eagerly.

  J.D. turned her face up to the warm sun and unzipped her coat.

  “Little different than a humid night in Georgia.” Jake stopped next to her. He’d not only undone his coat, but shrugged right out of it. He rolled it up and fastened it to Ziggy’s saddle. “Can’t believe it feels this warm, though. Just a few days ago, it was pretty much a blizzard.”

  Did he think it would be so easy to go back to discussing something so inconsequential as the weather? “That’s the way it is sometimes. Growing up, the schools would close for a snow day, then a week later, we’d practically be begging our parents to let us go out to the swimming hole at the C.” She shook her head, remembering. “I think there were times when we went swimming that we had ice crystals on our skin. I loved growing up here. We didn’t even have to work hard for friends when there was a bunch built in thanks to all the cousins Angel and I have.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “Why’d you hate your father?”

  He let out a sigh. Resigned. “He was a bastard who used up anyone and everyone who ever tried to love him. I wish he’d never existed.”

  “And if he hadn’t, neither would you or your sisters. Or your sons. Do you wish that, too?”

  He grimaced. “Obviously, that was an expression.”

  “What about your mother?”

  “Once she and the old man were finished playing tug-of-war for me and my sisters, she left with a fortune in her pocket and no desire to come back.”

  “But they both wanted you, then.”

  “No.” He gave her a pitying look. “They wanted to be in control of the money my grandmother had put in trust for us. Grandmother Deveraux was the old money. She married Grandfather Forrest who was the new.”

  “And what about your aunt Susan? She helped raise you, didn’t she? Or are you going to try to tell me that was about the money, too?”

  “Susan stayed loyal to Jacob Forrest because she loved him. Period.”

  “Your mother’s sister was in love with your father?”

  “She centered her life around us after my mother walked out. She never married. Never had children of her own. And yeah, she filled in the gaps of raising us that good old Olivia and Jacob left. She loved him. It’s the only explanation.”

  “Does it occur to you that she loved you and your sisters?” She stared at him. “Why do you find it so difficult to believe someone might love you? Just because of you?”

  “Because no one ever has
.” His voice was matter-of-fact. “Not even the ones who should have. And you can stop letting this put a frown on your face. It’s all water under the bridge.”

  “Not when it’s affecting the relationship you have with your children.” Even the one he didn’t know about.

  His lips tightened. “If it was so great for you growing up here, why’d you move away in the first place?”

  “Went to college. Fell in love.” She tucked her fingertips in the front pockets of her jeans.

  “What happened?”

  She bit the inside of her lip and stared across the stream. “I cheated on him,” she admitted bluntly. She looked at him, her shoulders tight. “Shocked?”

  “At what’s undoubtedly your very worst secret?” Sunlight cast across his face, illuminating the clear brown of his eyes. “You weren’t in love with him.”

  “What makes you so sure of that?” Though he was right. And she could finally recognize it now, because she was in love with Jake. The realization came with no blinding force. Just a certainty that was all the more powerful because of its very simplicity.

  “Because I know you. You’re the most straightforward person I know.”

  She looked away. “No. I’m really not.”

  Tell him.

  The words circled inside her head and her throat started aching. How could she love him, but remain silent?

  “I envy you that, actually.”

  She shot him an incredulous look. “Sorry?”

  “You know what it is you want and don’t want and you live your life accordingly.”

  “I understand you have obligations with Forco. But you also own some of the finest horses in the world. You live in a mansion straight out of Gone with the Wind. You have the money to do just about anything you want, anywhere. So, how are you not living your life the way you want?”

  “I took over Forco because I had to when my father died.” He stepped over to Ziggy again and ran his hand along the horse’s long neck. “Not because I wanted to.”

  She stared at the sharp, clean lines of his profile. “What would you rather have done?”