Loe raamatut: «Kayla's Cowboy»

To Teddy Roosevelt and the other visionaries who set aside the US National Parks.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

KAYLA ANDERSON STARED at the sign indicating she was still more than a hundred miles from Schuyler, Montana. After driving all night from Seattle, she was exhausted. And scared.

A hitchhiker caught her eye and she leaned forward to get a better look. She sagged with disappointment. It wasn’t her son.

Had Alex gotten this far?

Fifteen-year-old kids couldn’t rent cars, though they could take a train or bus without raising too many questions.

She shuddered at the idea of her son hitchhiking. Surely he had better sense. Of course, she’d never dreamed he would run away during his two-week visitation with his dad and head for Montana on his own. And how could Curtis have waited all day to let her know Alex was missing? She’d rushed home to see if Alex had come back, only to find a note explaining where he’d gone. Despite that, Curtis still hadn’t been concerned, certain Alex was just “exerting his independence.”

Her smartphone sounded with a chime indicating she had a voice mail. Could it be Alex? She’d gotten a signal off and on the whole night. Pulling off the road, Kayla checked her messages.

“Kayla, this is your grandfather. Don’t worry, Alex is here and he’s all right. I imagine you’re on your way. Travel safe, and we’ll see you soon.”

Kayla let out a shaky, relieved breath. She still had dozens of questions, but the most important one was answered. Her son was safe, instead of lying in a ditch or kidnapped, or any of the other terrible things her imagination had conjured. She debated calling her grandparents but decided to wait until they were face-to-face.

Glancing into the rear seat, she saw her nine-year-old daughter was asleep again, the wrappers from her fast-food breakfast scattered on the floor. Curtis had said it was ridiculous to bring DeeDee with her, but he hadn’t been that upset to have his time with the kids cut by a few days. As she’d learned during their marriage, Curtis Anderson had a short attention span. Since their divorce he’d slid from one relationship to another. His work history was the same.

Kayla’s mouth tightened and she tried to remember that her ex-husband wasn’t a terrible father. And he had wanted to adopt Alex from the very beginning. He’d just never grown up. He adored romance and falling in love and playing daddy, but relationships were beyond him. He was now on his third marriage since their divorce. Kayla no longer cared, but it was hard on the kids.

Before getting on the road again, she called Curtis to tell him Alex was safe. Two hours later, they passed the Schuyler city-limit sign. Her terror had subsided, but other anxieties had surfaced; the last thing she’d ever wanted was return here.

It wasn’t that she’d hated Schuyler. In fact, she’d had high hopes when she and Mom had moved into her grandparents’ home. Though it was the first time Kayla had met them, she’d thought the Garrisons were nice and she had started making friends at high school. But less than a year later Mom had been hitting the bottle even harder and they were on the road again. As far as Kayla knew, her mother hadn’t spoken to her parents since then.

Kayla pulled up in front of a three-story house that hadn’t changed since the day her mother had driven them away from it. As she hurried up the walkway, the front door opened and a familiar figure emerged—like the house, Elizabeth Garrison also appeared unchanged by the years, except that her brown hair was now shot with gray.

“He’s all right,” Elizabeth assured quickly.

“I know, I got Granddad’s message.”

“Good. We called the home phone as well but figured you were already on your way.”

“Where’s Alex?”

“He’s gone to the office with your grandfather to clean and organize the supply room.” Elizabeth’s eyes crinkled with a gentle humor. “We decided it was a suitably mundane thing for a kid to do after running away.”

Kayla agreed with a shaky laugh. “What’s the number?” she asked, taking out her phone. “I need to hear his voice.”

She punched in the numbers and the secretary put her through to her grandfather, who told her how much he loved her before passing the phone to Alex.

“Uh, hello?” her son said cautiously.

“Are you all right?” Kayla demanded.

“I’m fine, Mom, just dusty from some boxes that haven’t been moved in, like, forever.”

“We’ll talk later. We’ll talk a lot,” she warned.

“I kind of figured.”

After hanging up, she couldn’t keep the tears from stinging into her eyes.

Elizabeth gave her a quick hug before drawing away to gaze at her intently. “Oh, honey. It’s so good to see you.”

“I’m sorry it’s been so long,” Kayla managed to say.

“You’re here now, that’s what matters.”

Kayla still felt bad. She’d had little contact with her grandparents herself over the past sixteen years—just Christmas and birthday cards. That was fine for distant relatives, but the months she’d spent with the Garrisons as a teenager had been the happiest of her childhood. They’d even invited her to stay instead of leaving town with her mother. But Kayla hadn’t been able to bear the thought of Mom being alone. Besides, she couldn’t have stayed in Schuyler, not after Jackson had declared that he’d always used a condom, so the baby couldn’t possibly be his.

The memory might hurt more if she’d really loved Jackson McGregor, instead of having a short-lived crush. Still, crush or not, she’d ended up pregnant. And while she could never be sorry about having Alex, it hadn’t been easy.

Pushing the thought away, Kayla squared her shoulders. “There’s something I should tell you—about Alex, I mean.”

“It isn’t necessary,” Elizabeth answered. “Until I saw him in person I hadn’t realized how much he looks like the McGregors. A certain McGregor, as a matter of fact. As I recall, the two of you were quite an item for a while.”

Kayla winced. “Yes. And by the way, Alex doesn’t know Curtis isn’t his biological father. He adopted Alex right after we were married, and wanted to wait before telling him.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t say anything. Where’s DeeDee?” Elizabeth asked. “Is she still in Seattle?”

“She’s in the car, asleep.”

Elizabeth’s eyes lit up and she rushed to look through the Volvo’s back window at her great-granddaughter. “She didn’t wake up when you turned off the engine?”

“Most kids probably would have.” Kayla let out a tired chuckle.

“She looks so sweet lying there, curled up like a kitten.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. That’s my wild child.” Kayla’s humor faded. “At least she was until Alex pulled this stunt.”

“Well, he’s fine, and as hard as it’s been for you, I can’t be completely sorry. It’s wonderful to see you.”

Her throat choking up, Kayla dashed a hand across her eyes. Lord, she was getting soft. At sixteen she hadn’t given in to weepiness, not even when hopped up on pregnancy hormones.

“I take it you drove from Seattle, instead of flying and renting a car?” Elizabeth asked.

Kayla nodded. Her grandmother must have noticed the Washington state license plate and the “My kid is an honor student at...” bumper stickers on the Volvo, showing it wasn’t a rental.

“I wanted to watch along the roads,” Kayla explained.

The Volvo door opened and DeeDee tumbled out, looking rumpled and drowsy. “Mom, I’m hungry.”

“That’s something I can fix,” Elizabeth offered eagerly.

“First things first,” Kayla said. “DeeDee, this is your great-grandmother, Elizabeth Garrison.”

DeeDee stared at Elizabeth. “I thought you’d be ancient. I mean, great-grandmothers are old, aren’t they?”

“Not all of them,” Elizabeth said with a grin, showing no hint of discomfort.

No, the Garrisons weren’t very old to be great-grandparents of a teenager, not with a daughter and granddaughter who’d gotten pregnant as teens themselves.

Kayla followed Elizabeth and DeeDee into the house and a wave of memories swept over her. She’d only lived there for a short time, but she had liked the house and her grandparents and even Schuyler itself, no matter how much she’d felt out of place.

“Where’s the bathroom?” DeeDee asked.

Elizabeth took her down the hall, then returned. “Kayla, dear, lie down on the couch and get some rest. DeeDee and I will put a meal together.”

“I should help or...” Kayla’s protest trailed. Now that she’d spoken to Alex, a different tension was asserting itself—the anticipation of facing the consequences of being in Schuyler again. All the same, she felt limp with exhaustion.

“Let it go for now,” urged her grandmother. “At least for today, someone has your back.”

Tears stung Kayla’s eyes again. Staying strong for her children was a necessary habit, particularly since the divorce, but she felt safe in her grandparents’ home and knew her son and daughter were just as safe. So she smiled wearily, kissed her grandmother on the cheek and sank onto the comfortable sofa. It wasn’t long before reality drifted away.

The clock was chiming two when she woke. Standing, she went down the bathroom and glanced into the mirror. Yikes, DeeDee would claim she looked worse than the cryptkeeper’s wife. Fetching her purse, she found a brush to tame her long auburn hair, though there wasn’t anything she could do about the circles under her blue eyes. She blinked. It had never occurred to her before, but she had her grandmother’s eyes. The resemblance pleased her.

Kayla washed her face and applied lip gloss, wishing makeup was her thing so she could use it to put on a brave face. Instead, she straightened and headed for the kitchen.

DeeDee looked up from her plate of spaghetti. “Hi, Mom. Grandma said to let you sleep. She told me you call them Grams and Granddad, but that we could say ‘Grandma’ and ‘Grandpa’ instead of saying ‘Great’ all the time.”

“Where is she?”

“Bringing in the wash or something.”

That was right. Elizabeth loved the smell of clothing hung out to dry in the fresh air.

Kayla served herself spaghetti and salad and began eating, the taste of her grandmother’s food carrying her into the past.

“I wanna go explore,” DeeDee said as she sucked a last strand of pasta into her mouth. “Can I walk downtown? Grandma says it’s only a couple of blocks.”

Kayla thought about it. She tried not to be overprotective. Fortunately her kids were growing up in better circumstances than she’d experienced during most of her own childhood, but there were still dangers, even in a town the size of Schuyler. Since the divorce, it had been even more of a challenge to find a workable balance. Nevertheless, DeeDee was very independent at almost ten, and would rebel if kept on too tight of a parental leash.

“Okay,” she told her daughter, “but you know the drill.”

DeeDee rolled her eyes. “I got my phone and I won’t let anyone close and will scream my head off if anyone tries to lay a finger on me.”

“And?” Kayla prompted.

“And I’ll be back in two hours and call in the middle to say I’m okay.”

“Then, have fun.”

“Grandma says there’s an ice cream parlor downtown called the Schuyler Soda Saloon.” DeeDee had a hopeful look in her eyes.

“You can get three dollars out of my purse to have a cone.”

“Thanks, Mom.” DeeDee dropped a kiss on her forehead and rushed away.

“It must be hard letting her out of your sight,” Elizabeth observed as she came through the screen door and put a basket of dry laundry on the chair next to Kayla.

Kayla picked up a towel and inhaled the scent of the warm Montana day. She glanced at her grandmother. “It’s never easy. I want to keep her safe at all costs, and then I try to let go, only to worry that I’m letting her have too much freedom.”

“I have a feeling you’re a pretty good mom.”

“Right. I have a fifteen-year-old son who ran away to Montana.”

“I know, but he let you know where he was going. Alex is a good kid. That can’t have changed because of one wild act.”

Wearily, Kayla ate her last bite of spaghetti and stood up. “I realize that. He’s never been rebellious. Art and history are his favorite subjects, and he’s strong enough not to be afraid of being labeled a geek. Not that he enjoys the teasing, but he shrugs it off.”

“Let’s get your luggage in from the car,” Elizabeth suggested after they’d cleaned the kitchen. “You’re staying for a while, aren’t you? Maybe a week or two?” she added hopefully.

“I suppose, if it won’t be inconvenient.”

“You could move in forever and we’d be thrilled.”

“That’s awfully nice of you.” Kayla had a life and a business in Seattle that she couldn’t abandon, but she could stay for a while and let her grandparents get acquainted with DeeDee and Alex. The milk had already been spilled, so there was nothing to do except mop it up. A wry smile crossed her lips. Funny how often her grandmother’s old sayings still cropped up in her mind.

“You’ll be in your mother’s old room. I’ve already got Alex in the guest room, but I thought DeeDee might enjoy the attic bedroom.”

When Kayla carried her suitcase into her mother’s childhood room, she saw nothing had changed there, either. Even the posters Mom had tacked up before she and Dad had run off to conquer the world still hung on the walls. Instead of conquering anything, her father had died in an industrial accident a year later, and Mom had started drinking to deal with her pain.

Was love really worth all the anguish? Kayla sometimes wondered about it. Teenagers could fall genuinely in love, the way her parents had, but her mother hadn’t been able to deal with losing that love. Kayla had believed she loved Jackson, but the feeling had vanished with his harsh rejection and the onset of morning sickness. As for her marriage...? She’d loved Curtis—or at least the man she’d thought he was—only to have him throw it all away.

A hint of melancholy went through Kayla as she unpacked the clothing she’d put together so hastily. She had built a good life, though it wasn’t what she’d imagined when she was little.

“You...um, haven’t asked about Jackson,” Elizabeth ventured as Kayla returned to the living room.

“To be honest, he’s low on my list of priorities,” she answered. Jackson was the past, and she’d learned to focus on the present. Unfortunately, she’d have to deal with him now. Coming back to Schuyler was going to present a stack of challenges. A number of people had seen Alex, and some of them must have recognized his likeness to Jackson McGregor. Word would probably get around. As a kid she might have done nothing and hoped for the best, but she couldn’t do that with two children to think about.

Kayla grinned wryly.

Being a mother changed everything.

Elizabeth patted her hand. “In that case, how about a chocolate soda at the Schuyler Soda Saloon?”

Nostalgia made Kayla smile. Between her grandfather’s passion for huge bowls of ice cream and her grandmother’s penchant for having it in soda, she’d been well supplied with treats while living in Schuyler.

“It sounds good,” she agreed, “but I want to stop at Granddad’s office and see Alex first.”

“Sure, honey. I figured that’s what you’d want.”

Walking toward town with her grandmother was another echo from the past.

“In a way, it doesn’t seem that long since we last did this,” Elizabeth said, clearly thinking the same thing. “In others, it seems a century. So...um, how is your mother?”

Kayla made a face. “Still drinking. She made one stab at rehab and walked out after thirty-six hours. I don’t see her that often—it’s too hard on the kids. For that matter, I don’t even know where she is most of the time.”

She could see the pain in her grandmother’s eyes and wondered if she shouldn’t have mentioned the drinking.

“I’m not sure what we did wrong,” Elizabeth murmured.

“You can’t assume it was you. People just lose their way sometimes.”

“You didn’t.”

“I got pregnant at sixteen—hardly a sterling example of stability.”

Elizabeth shook her head firmly. “That was just a teenage misstep. It’s what you did afterward that’s important. We just wish you’d let us help.”

“That money you gave me when we left Schuyler was a big help.”

“I’m not just talking about money.”

“I know.” Kayla thought back through the years. “But Granddad was the mayor. I didn’t want what I’d done to embarrass either of you. Even now, there’s going to be gossip.”

“The hell with that,” Elizabeth shocked her by saying. She stopped and asked gently, “Is that why you stayed away?”

“Partly. I was the one who’d screwed up and felt I should deal with it. But it’s also because I didn’t want to see Jackson after some things he’d said. I guess life just...settled into a habit. Besides, it would have meant Alex finding out about his biological father, and Curtis didn’t want that.”

“I understand, but Alex spoke to a number of people while trying to find our house. I’ve already gotten calls about how much he resembles the McGregors,” Elizabeth said.

“I know, and word will get around to Jackson, as well. I’ll talk to Alex about it tonight.”

At her grandfather’s law office, Kayla didn’t scold her son, just gave him a fierce hug. “Be thinking about what you’re going to say later,” she said when he looked at her cautiously.

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m glad you’re helping Granddad,” she added.

Alex hastily went back to the stockroom where he’d been dusting and sorting office supplies.

Granddad was meeting with a client, so they continued walking downtown, her grandmother introducing her to everyone they saw. Schuyler still had the charm of a Western town with a blacksmith and farrier, saddle shop and spots for locals to hitch their horses if needed. It was just everyday life and tourists loved it.

As they stepped into the Schuyler Soda Saloon, the eerie workings of fate seemed to stir around them. Across the room she saw Jackson, or someone who looked an awful lot like him.

It had been sixteen years, and her old boyfriend’s face had become fuzzy in her memory. Now she was startled, realizing how much Alex took after Jackson. Yet as Jackson strode forward, some of the resemblance seemed to fade. Alex was a sweet, awkward, open-faced teenager, whereas Jackson radiated the pent-up energy of a stalking mountain lion.

Jackson cast a glance at her, kept walking, then stopped and turned around.

“Kayla Garrison?”

Kayla tensed, hoping gossip about Alex hadn’t gotten around quite this quickly. “Actually, it’s Kayla Anderson now. It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah, high school,” Jackson said. He stirred restlessly and his gaze swept the ice cream parlor.

“Is there a problem?” Elizabeth asked politely.

“No, nothing. Good to see you, Mrs. Garrison. Welcome back, Kayla.” Jackson tipped his cowboy hat to them and hurried out the door.

They ordered chocolate sodas and found a small corner table.

“I wonder what Jackson was doing here. He was never crazy about sweets,” Kayla murmured.

“Who knows? This is one of the local hot spots to get the latest gossip, though I admit he doesn’t seem to be one for idle chitchat. It could be something to do with his daughter—I hear she’s turned into a real handful.”

Kayla clenched her fingers, unable to decide how she felt about seeing her old boyfriend; she was too tired and frazzled. But meeting Jackson had emphasized the need to speak with Alex about his biological father as soon as possible. It wouldn’t be the easiest discussion. Maybe she shouldn’t have agreed to keep the adoption a secret, but it was what Curtis had wanted.

“I think we should change our order to takeout,” Elizabeth announced suddenly. She went to the old-fashioned marble counter and spoke to the cashier, returning a few minutes later with two large plastic cups.

Grateful, Kayla took hers and they headed for the door. They strolled around town, sipping their ice cream sodas and trying to catch up on the past sixteen years. Yet in the back of her mind, Kayla kept wondering if Jackson remembered his reaction when she’d told him she was pregnant...that he’d used condoms, so obviously the other boys were right about her sleep-around reputation.

Kayla straightened her back. Her son was safe and she’d already weathered some of the worst stuff life could throw at her. She would handle Jackson, one way or the other.

* * *

“I HATE YOU,” Morgan yelled, her blond hair bouncing. “Go ahead, hate me back.”

Jackson McGregor glared at his daughter, though he still chose his words carefully. Unfortunately, he’d had plenty of practice lately. “I don’t hate you,” he said. “But right now I’m struggling to like you as much as I usually do.”

“You think you’re so clever. Why can’t I go to the lake for the weekend?”

“At your age? A girl? With a bunch of the wildest kids in school, with no adults? Do you think I’ve lost my mind?”

Morgan stomped her foot. “If I was a guy you’d let me go, and that’s not fair. It’s a...a double standard. The other kids will think I’m a nun. Can’t you try to remember what it was like in high school?”

“I remember all too well, and I’ll be damned if I make it easy for you to repeat my mistakes.”

“Yeah, I know all about your mistakes.”

“Then, you should realize that I know what I’m talking about,” he told her.

“Yeah, you had fun, but you don’t want me to have any at all.”

Jackson counted to ten as his daughter disappeared around the corner of the barn. Morgan had always been strong willed, but lately she’d gone completely ornery and seemed determined to drive him crazy. It was a miracle if a day passed without a shouting match. As for being grounded, she did her best to make it appear as if she was disobeying him. Just that afternoon she’d hidden in the hayloft of one of the barns, letting him think she’d sneaked into town. He’d wasted hours looking for her. Lately he’d been in Schuyler far too often, tracking her down for one reason or another.

Just a few months ago she’d hacked her hair into a hideous spiky cut. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she’d begun adding a dramatic fluorescent streak down one side, using a selection of temporary dyes. Every morning it had been a different color. Though her hair had grown out, it put him on edge, wondering what she’d do next. Hell, much as he loved her, raising a boy might have been easier.

Jackson trotted up the patio steps and into the house, tempted to call his mother and ask for advice. But it wasn’t fair to load his problems onto her. His parents had raised their own family and two of his cousins, as well. They’d done their duty.

He glanced at Flora, the woman he’d hired to keep house. “Any pearls of wisdom to share?” he asked.

Flora shrugged. “Afraid not.” She was sitting at the kitchen table, snapping string beans. She worked hard and was a great cook but hadn’t connected with Morgan as much as he’d hoped. Not that it was a housekeeper’s job to provide motherly guidance.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “I thought you were spending the night in town.”

“My sister canceled on me. She got a hot date at the last minute.”

The brevity of the comment made him wonder if Stella was going out again with his great-uncle, who was definitely enjoying his retirement. The image of Stella Charlton on a hot date with Uncle Mitch was almost too much for Jackson’s stressed-out brain. Stella was a gum-snapping, determined strawberry blonde, whose ample curves were often poured into the kind of tight clothes normally seen on a twenty-year-old.

He drew a deep breath, trying to dispel the mental picture of Uncle Mitch and Stella together.

“Er...Morgan wants to go camping at Flathead Lake with friends from school, a totally teen party of girls and guys.”

“She should know better than to ask.”

Yeah, she should. But lately it seemed as if his daughter was determined to cross every line, test every boundary and break every rule she could find. And she was so blasted angry while she did it. Who’d have guessed that she used to be a sweet kid who loved to spend time with her daddy while he worked on the ranch?

Jackson rubbed the tense muscles on the back of his neck. What was he doing wrong? And now Morgan was throwing out comments about his teenage exploits...?

Hell. He’d tried to live down those years, but it was inevitable that she’d heard some of the stories. No doubt Morgan considered him a complete hypocrite and was angry that he was making her toe the line. But hypocrite or not, he didn’t intend to let his daughter head down the same road that he’d traveled. Not if he could prevent it.

Hmm. What if he tried to make her wear those dresses he’d bought her? Would traditional feminine clothes encourage her to behave more appropriately? But dresses weren’t practical on a ranch, and Morgan would just accuse him once again of having double standards.

“I’ll be out for a while,” he said.

“Going to ride fences?” Flora guessed.

“Yeah.”

As a rule, Jackson rode fences whenever he needed to think or to regain his cool. And with Morgan constantly acting out, he’d spent a lot of time in the saddle checking fence lines.

The next few hours allowed him to relax and clear his mind, only to get uptight again when Morgan refused to come out of her room for dinner.