JASON BREATHED A sigh of relief when he walked into the living room and saw the empty recliner. The cell phone was gone and he could hear the Dobes stirring in the room down the hall from the living room before settling again. No parental arguments tonight.
He got a beer and settled in the recliner, popping the top and enjoying the fact that he was drinking it because he liked beer, not to relieve stress. Would his dad still be in a decent frame of mind in the morning?
He hoped so, but right now he wasn’t going to waste time worrying about his dad’s moods. Nope. He was going to enjoy thoughts of a woman who wasn’t really so prickly.
Jason had just turned off the television and was starting for the stairs when the landline rang in the kitchen. He reversed course to grab it before it woke up his father. It had to be Kate or one of his other sisters, hopefully not with an emergency.
“Jason?”
He instantly recognized Zach’s voice. “Yeah, Zach. What’s up?”
“I, uh, need your help.”
“Sure.” He spoke as if it weren’t at all strange for the kid to be calling him close to midnight.
“I got picked up.”
Jason leaned a forearm on the doorjamb. “For...?”
“Drinking.” He hesitated, then added, “And resisting. I ran.”
“Did you hit anybody?”
“No,” he muttered. “I ran on foot.”
Thank God. “You know I can’t take custody of you, right?”
“I guess I was hoping that you might come down here and calm my mom down when she gets here.”
When Jason didn’t respond immediately, Zach said, “Please, Jason. She’s going to freak over this.”
“All right. I’ll come down.”
Sure enough, a few minutes after Jason arrived at the sheriff’s office, Zach’s mom showed up looking stressed. She barely seemed to register that he was there as she approached the dispatch window, but Jason instantly recognized her.
She spoke to the woman behind the window, who then disappeared.
“Liz?” Jason said from behind her. “I’m Jason Hudson. I work with Zach.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “I know who you are...but why are you here?”
“Zach called me.”
“What?” she asked in a stunned voice.
“I’m guessing that it’s to take the heat off from him.”
“Like that’s going to work.”
“Are you going to bail him out?”
“Do you think I should leave him here?”
He shrugged. Yeah, he thought she should, but it wasn’t his place to say so. He also knew that she was dealing with this alone. “Could I buy you a cup of coffee before you make your decision?”
She stared at him as if he were crazy. “To calm me down?” she asked with a snap.
“Not if you prefer to remain angry.”
“I just want to grab my kid and head home and cry.” She shoved her hands through her hair, her purse dangling from her elbow. “I don’t know if I can down a cup of coffee. I don’t know what he’s trying to prove.” She met Jason’s gaze. “I’m rambling.”
“With good cause.”
“Allie said you were patient.”
“I don’t know about that, but since Zach’s not my kid, I don’t have an emotional stake in this.”
Liz stared at him again, wearily this time. “Maybe he knew what he was doing calling you. Yes, I’ll take a cup of coffee.”
“Another half hour won’t kill him,” Jason said. “And it might do you some good.”
She nodded and they walked together down the short hall to the city hall cafeteria, which had two coffeepots and a row of vending machines.
Jason poured two cups of coffee that in all likelihood wouldn’t be very good, but would give them both something to do while they talked.
“It’s been a long time, Jason.” Liz smiled distantly. “You were setting state records the last time I saw you.”
“And now I’m tearing down a barn,” he said easily.
“What do you think of Zach?”
“He’s really angry.”
“It scares me,” she said. “I know he’s done this before, but hasn’t been caught.
“Do you think he’s driving drunk?”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t take his truck at night. He and his friends seem to be on foot for the most part. One of his friends has a dad in prison for third-offense DUI. It left an impression.”
“Well, that’s something anyway.”
“How much do you know?” she asked when they were seated in plastic chairs at a small table.
“I know that Zach had planned to work for his dad on the ranch this summer and it fell through.”
“Do you know why?”
“I do.”
“So you can see why Zach is bitter and acting out.”
“Yes.”
She tilted her head as she scrutinized his face. “But you don’t think it’s an excuse.”
“People react differently to things, but frankly, I think he can find a better way to express himself than getting arrested.”
“He’s going to counseling, but he hates it.”
“Because he wants to stay mad.”
“Maybe so.” She rested her elbow on the table, pushed her fingers into her hair and placed her head in her palm. “I don’t know how many times he’s done this and not gotten caught,” she said. “I just...don’t know.” She met his gaze. “And I have no idea why he called you. No offense, but I don’t think you’re his favorite person.”
“I gave him some life advice.”
“I heard.” She let out a small snort. “Something he needed to hear.”
“But didn’t like.”
“Who likes the truth when they’re avoiding it?”
An excellent point.
Liz glanced down at the full coffee cup. “I feel better now. A little anyway.” She gathered her purse. “I guess I’d better decide whether or not to let my son stay in jail for the night. I’m so sorry he dragged you down here.”
“Don’t be. I, uh, hope you encourage him to come to work tomorrow.”
“Are you kidding? He’ll be there if I have to call his dad and have him help deliver him.” She quirked one corner of her mouth. “And I never call his dad.”
* * *
AS IT TURNED OUT, Jason didn’t see Zach that night. After finishing their talk, Liz had asked him to go home while she decided how to deal with her son. He did, however, see the kid bright and early the next day when his mom dropped him off for work. Liz had bailed him out, but she’d also taken away his truck.
Zach shot Jason a quick look, but didn’t say anything before putting on his hard hat and walking to the toolbox to take out the pry bar.
“I called Allie,” Liz said as Zach stalked through the gate. “She knows what happened.”
Jason had spoken to Allie briefly when they’d met at the mailbox—her on the way to work, him on his way into the Lightning Creek.
“How’re you doing?” he asked gently. She looked as if she hadn’t slept at all.
Liz smiled self-consciously and smoothed her hair back. “Okay. I’m going to talk to the school counselor today. Reality check.” She smiled tightly and looked past him to Zach. “He’s embarrassed and angry at getting caught.”
Jason was well aware. He’d had a brush or two with the law during high school, but the difference was that because of who he was, the coach and the powers that be managed to get him off the hook. Allie was right. He really hadn’t lived in the real world.
“Don’t worry,” he said, knowing even as he said the words that there was no way she wasn’t going to worry. “This’ll pass.”
“I hope so.” With a small wave, Liz rolled up the window and started down the driveway.
Jason and Zach worked in silence for most of the morning, maneuvering around the elephant in the room as well as they were able. Finally, when they’d stopped for a water break, Zach said, “My mom said that you wanted to leave me in jail overnight.” He sounded utterly betrayed.
“I did.”
“Why? To teach me a lesson?”
“I’m a big believer in negative reinforcement.”
“Thanks.”
“You asked me to help your mom and I did.”
Zach grunted something unintelligible and went back to work. Jason joined him and the two of them spent another silent hour busting up foundation before they stopped for lunch.
Jason’s phone buzzed in his pocket while he was digging his lunch out of the cooler. He pulled it out, hoping it wasn’t Kate with bad news about Max, and was stunned to see Pat’s name on the screen. Finally. He’d sent three unanswered texts over the past two weeks and after checking with Pat’s sister to make certain he was okay, had all but given up on hearing from the guy in the near future.
“About time,” he said instead of hello, a note of dry humor in his voice. “I’ve been thinking about you.” More and more since getting the depressing call from Amanda Morehouse.
“Did you get the job at Brandt?” Pat growled.
Jason rolled his eyes heavenward. One of those calls—the angry calls he used to get whenever Pat OD’d on self-pity or drank too much. Pat sounded dead sober today.
“No, I did not.”
“I heard you applied there.”
Jason didn’t ask how. “I didn’t make the cut.”
Pat snorted. “You don’t want to work for those elitist bastards anyway.” Translation—Pat didn’t want his protégé working for a place where he hadn’t been able to get a job.
“I did,” Jason said. He wasn’t going to lie and he didn’t want to discuss his job search. Pat had helped him with the game and his head and even his women problems, but talking work was not going to help either one of them. “I’m looking elsewhere now. How are you doing?”
Always a loaded question, but Jason found that all general questions were loaded when Pat was in this kind of mood. So if he were going to take flack, he was going to do so for a question that he wanted an answer to.
“Well, I don’t have a job.”
Because you refuse to train for anything. They’d been over that ground before. Jason wasn’t treading it again. His friend had issues and Jason didn’t know how to deal with them. He felt helpless—the victim of Pat’s anger. Pat had been his hero, then his on-field mentor, then his friend. The guy had been amazing—all-star three times. He’d expected his postfootball career to be amazing, too, and it hadn’t been. Pat had been stunned to discover that people forget rapidly. It had almost killed him. Literally.
“Anything new?”
“Still in the wheelchair.”
“You know, you could shoot a text every now and then, let me know what’s going on.”
“Yeah. If anything happens, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Did you only call to make certain that I didn’t go to work for Brandt?”
“I called to touch base.”
Bull. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything about a job. I’ve got to go.” He paused for a split second, but when his friend remained silent, he ended the call, then set the phone on the tailgate next to his water bottle.
Guilt. Survivor’s guilt, just as Allie had said.
And this was guilt that he brought on himself. He couldn’t help it if Pat hadn’t been able to deal with leaving football. That he’d wanted to be a rock star when in reality he should have looked at being a roadie.
“Is everything all right?” The grudgingly spoken words held an edge of concern and Jason looked up at Zach, who was sitting on the tailgate opposite him.
“Yeah. Old friend. He’s having some issues adapting to his new reality.”
“How so?”
Reasonable question. “He’s in a wheelchair.”
“Sucks.”
“Yeah.” In many ways, the biggest of which was that he wasn’t trying to change. “Let’s get back at it. I need to leave early. My dad went to the doctor today and I have a feeling my sister will have had enough of him by the time they get back.”
Jason spent the rest of the workday putting his back and his frustrations into swinging a hammer and then prying stones out of concrete. At the moment they were simply demolishing. Eventually they’d have to move the material out of the field. And in the meantime, Jason was breaking those rocks. Even Zach, as self-absorbed as he’d been that day, seemed to notice. But he didn’t say anything. Jason didn’t blame him.
* * *
LIZ ARRIVED TO pick up Zach an hour earlier than usual. Jason was good with that. He was feeling low after Pat’s call and appreciated the solitude before heading home to deal with whatever Max was going to hit him with. Sometimes they had good evenings and sometimes he had to wrestle the chips and beer out of his father’s hands.
Despite Pat’s lack of communication, until this call Jason had allowed himself to believe the I’m-fine text. He’d told himself innumerable times that the bitterness would fade as Pat healed.
The bitterness wasn’t fading and he was torn as to whether to persevere in the face of adversity, or to simply let go of his connection with his former mentor.
He was stacking smaller rocks in the wheelbarrow when he heard the sounds of straining nearby and walked out into the pasture far enough to see a cow down by the barn. Allie was due home anytime now, and he hoped she got there soon in case the cow had problems.
She didn’t. The calf was born with seemingly little difficulty, but afterward, it barely moved. Jason felt a wash of helplessness. He had no idea what to do. He was scrolling through an online search on his phone when he heard Allie’s car on the drive and jogged over to flag her down.
“New calf, but it’s not moving.”
“Right. Was it the cow with the blue tag?”
“Yeah.”
“Figures.” Allie opened the gate and Jason followed her through. She picked up a short pole that had been leaning against the fence. “I need something to brandish in case Mama gets protective.” She looked him up and down. “Maybe you’d better stay here. She doesn’t know you.”
“So I’m just going to stand by while you head out into the bovine danger zone.”
“Yes,” she said shortly.
Her ranch. Her rules.
Jason didn’t like it, but he stayed put near the gate while Allie started across the field in her flat dress shoes and floral skirt, carrying the brandishing pole in one hand. She stopped several yards away from the cow, who put her head up high and moved so that the calf was on the opposite side of her from Allie. The calf then struggled up off its side and the mother turned back to it and began licking vigorously.
That was apparently good enough for Allie. She took a few backward steps, and then turned and headed toward the gate, glancing over her shoulder every now and again as if worried about being attacked from behind.
Jason felt better when the mama cow took her baby and headed toward the creek. Allie dropped the brandishing stick close to the gate, which Jason held open for her.
“Okay. Only a few more to go.”
“What’s the deal there?”
“No idea, but it’s moving now, so I’ll monitor until it gets dark.”
“I don’t want you going out there when I’m gone.”
“All right. I won’t.”
He narrowed his eyes at her and Allie smiled at him, touching his face briefly with the palm of her hand. “Honest. If I sense something’s wrong, I’ll call the vet.”
“I’ve never seen you give in so easily.” Jason started walking with her toward her car, which was still running.
“Long day. How’s Zach?”
“Pissed off, but all right. Liz picked him up about an hour ago.”
“She’s making him see the counselor.”
“Might help...if he feels like listening.”
Allie opened her door. “Yeah. That.”
She started to get into the car when Jason asked, “Is your ex still bothering you?”
“I think he’s finally starting to figure out that I’m not going to answer my phone.”
“Good,” Jason said. “Stay strong.”
“Will do.” She closed the door and rolled down the window. “You guys only have another day or two.”
“At the most.”
She stared through the windshield, then looked back up at him. “I may have to come up with more for Zach to do.”
Jason gave a nod. “That’d be a good thing for both of you. And Allie?” He waited until she met his eyes again and then said, “Please leave that cow alone.”
* * *
IT WAS HARD not to be touched by the fact that Jason was worried about her. Allie was just damned glad that he hadn’t ventured near Bahama Mama to see if he could help the calf.
Bahama was not a friendly cow. Allie would have gotten rid of her long ago if she hadn’t always thrown such beautiful heifer calves. And sure enough, when Allie checked later that evening, the cow had a perfect little girl by her side. The herd of keepers had increased by one. Jolie would be happy when she got the news.
After feeding, Allie went back to the house and got out the sketches she’d made of Jason, laying them out side by side. The nose was off in one, the mouth in another. She’d nailed the eyes every single time, though. And by putting the three sketches together, she’d have the basis for a painting.
For the first time in forever, she felt a stir of anticipation.
Most of her acrylic paints were beyond saving, so she’d work in oil. She was more comfortable with a water-based medium, but it was time to push her comfort zone. To stop staying with the tried and true. She set a frozen dinner in the oven and then went upstairs to get the box of paints she’d left there and to see if she could find a blank canvas.
She found not one, but three blank canvases—two small and one larger. She was going to start on the large canvas. Go big or go home.
She primed the canvases and then leaned them against the wall to dry, marveling at the fact that even now, with Kyle long gone out of her life, she felt the familiar twist of guilt at doing something just for herself.
Damn it, Kyle.
No...she was to blame. She’d allowed herself to believe his bunk.
Allie sighed and headed out the door to check her garden spot. She’d planted kale, kohlrabi and spinach. Next week she’d put in beets, peas and radishes. Her area of Montana always had late frosts, so she steered clear of anything susceptible to an unexpected cold snap. She leaned down and pulled a weed. Garden started. Canvases primed. She was moving forward. Finally.
So, if she could reclaim the two things that had seen her through hard times, why couldn’t she learn to love the Lightning Creek?
Because bad things happened there.
She didn’t trust the ranch. Not one little bit. While she’d lived there, she’d woken up every morning with a rush of anxiety, wondering what was going to go wrong that day. What repair would be needed, which animal would get sick? What financial crisis would rear its ugly head?
She had good memories of the ranch, but they weren’t strong enough to supplant the bad, to quell the anxiety.