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Brenda Minton
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Two beloved novels of family, love and cowboys by bestselling author Brenda Minton

The Cowboy Next Door

Jay Blackhorse is determined not to be won over by city girl Lacey Gould and her niece. Still, they clearly need his help. Lacey’s clueless about caring for the infant her sister abandoned. Jay has a talent for stopping the baby’s tears. But when a dark secret from Lacey’s past blows into town, will Jay’s help be enough?

Jenna’s Cowboy Hero

Former football player Adam Mackenzie hopes to fix up a camp for underprivileged kids. But the city slicker doesn’t know horse tack from a touchdown. The pretty rancher next door seems to be the answer to his prayers. Army vet Jenna wants only to raise her twin boys and run her ranch-not fall in love. But can the gorgeous and kind Adam make her open her heart to love?

Praise for Brenda Minton and her novels

“Minton’s characters are well crafted.”

—RT Book Reviews

“This wonderful romance has good characters and a great story.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Cowboy Next Door

“[A] heartwarming story.”

—RT Book Reviews on Jenna’s Cowboy Hero

“This easy, sensitive story…is quite touching. Don’t miss [it].”

—RT Book Reviews on His Little Cowgirl

“A lovely story of faith, trust and taking one day at a time.”

—RT Book Reviews on A Cowboy’s Heart

Brenda Minton lives in the Ozarks with her husband, children, cats, dogs and strays. She is a pastor’s wife, Sunday-school teacher, coffee addict and sleep deprived. Not in that order. Her dream to be an author for Harlequin started somewhere in the pages of a romance novel about a young American woman stranded in a Spanish castle. Her dreams came true, and twenty-something books later, she is an author hoping to inspire young girls to dream.

Books by Brenda Minton

Love Inspired

Martin’s Crossing

A Rancher for Christmas

Cooper Creek

Christmas Gifts “Her Christmas Cowboy” The Cowboy’s Holiday BlessingThe Bull Rider’s BabyThe Rancher’s Secret WifeThe Cowboy’s Healing WaysThe Cowboy LawmanThe Cowboy’s Christmas CourtshipThe Cowboy’s Reunited FamilySingle Dad Cowboy

Visit the Author Profile page

at Harlequin.com for more titles.

The Cowboy Next Door & Jenna’s Cowboy Hero

Brenda Minton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

THE COWBOY NEXT DOOR

JENNA’S COWBOY HERO

The Cowboy Next Door

Brenda Minton

Truly my soul silently waits for God;

From Him comes my salvation.

—Psalms 62:1


This book is dedicated to my mom,

Rosetta (Kasiah) Cousins

(May 1937–November 1980).

She taught me to dream and she encouraged me to use my imagination. She put up with baby birds and mice in the house, numerous wild kittens, possums, ponies, goats and puppies. And to my dad, Don Cousins, who is still excited by every accomplishment. You taught me the value of hard work, even when I didn’t appreciate it. I love you. And to the memory of Patsy Grayson, encourager, friend, blessing.

Chapter One


“Lacey, when are you going to go out with me?” Bobby Fynn hollered from across the dining room of the Hash-It-Out Diner.

“Maybe next week,” Lacey called back as she refilled an empty coffee cup, smiling at her customer, an older woman with curly black hair and a sweet smile.

“Come on, Lacey, you can’t keep turning me down.”

Lacey smiled and shook her head, because Bobby wasn’t serious, and she wasn’t interested.

“Ignore him,” Marci, the hostess, whispered as Lacey walked past.

Lacey shot her friend a smile. “He doesn’t bother me. I’ll be back in a minute. I need to get a pitcher of water.”

She hurried to the waitress station, set the glass coffeepot on the warming tray, and grabbed the pitcher of ice water. The cowbell over the door clanged, announcing the arrival of another customer. She hustled around the corner, pretending her feet weren’t blistered and her back wasn’t aching from the double shifts she’d worked for the last week.

If it wasn’t for the perfect piece of land she wanted to buy…

Two strong hands grabbed her arms, stopping her mid-stride and preventing a near collision. The pitcher of ice water she’d carried out of the waitress station sloshed, soaking her shirt. She looked up, muttering about clumsiness and met the dark gaze of Officer Jay Blackhorse.

Gorgeous, he was definitely gorgeous. Tall with black hair and brown eyes. All cowboy. All rugged and sure of himself. But not her type. He’d been back in Gibson, Missouri, for a month now, and she already had him figured out. He was too serious, not the kind of customer who chatted with a waitress, and she was fine with the knowledge that they weren’t going to be best friends.

Several men called out, offering him a chair at their table, as Lacey moved out of his grasp. Not only was he the law, his family also raised cattle and horses. He hadn’t lived in Gibson for the last seven or eight years, but he still fit in on so many levels that Lacey didn’t know how he could do it all.

She was still trying to find something other than round holes for her square-peg self.

She was the girl from St. Louis who had showed up six years ago with a broken-down car, one hundred dollars and the dream of finding a new life.

Jay waved at the men who called out to him, but he didn’t take them up on their offers to sit. Instead, he took hold of Lacey’s arm and moved her toward the door.

“Lacey, I need to talk to you outside.”

“Sure.” Of course, not a problem.

She set the pitcher of ice water on a table and followed him to the door, trying hard not to remember her other life, the life that had included more than one trip in the back of a police car.

It would have been a waste of breath to tell Jay she wasn’t that person any more. He didn’t know her.

He didn’t know what it had been like to grow up in her home, with a family that had fallen apart before she could walk. Jay had a mom who baked cookies and played the piano at church. Lacey’s mom had brought home boyfriends for herself and her daughters.

Instead of protesting, Lacey shot Jay a disgusted look—as if it didn’t matter—and exited the diner at his side. When they were both outside, she turned on him, pushing down her pain and reaching for the old Lacey, the one who knew how to handle these situations.

“What’s this all about, Blackhorse? Is it ‘humiliate the waitress day’ and someone nominated me to get the prize?”

He shook his head and pointed to his car. “Sorry, Lacey, but I didn’t know what else to do with her.”

“Her?”

The back door of the patrol car opened.

Lacey watched the young woman step out with a tiny baby in her arms and a so what look on her face. Jay’s strong hand gripped Lacey’s arm, holding her tight as she drew in a deep breath and tried to focus. She pulled her arm free because she wasn’t about to fall.

Or fall apart.

Even at twenty-two Corry still looked drugged-out, antsy and on the verge of running. Her dark eyes were still narrowed in anger—as if the world had done her wrong. The thrust of her chin told everyone she would do what she wanted, no matter whom it hurt.

Jay stood next to Lacey, his voice low. “She said she hitched a ride to Gibson and that she’s your sister.”

Lacey wanted to say that it wasn’t true and that she didn’t have a sister. She wanted to deny she knew the young woman with the dirty black hair and a baby in her arms.

The baby cried and Lacey made eye contact with Corry.

“She’s my sister,” Lacey said, avoiding Jay’s gaze.

“Thanks for claiming me.” Corry smacked her gum, the baby held loosely against her shoulder, little arms flailing. The loose strap of Corry’s tank top slid down her shoulder, and her shorts were frayed.

Lacey sighed.

“I don’t have to leave her here.” Jay pulled sunglasses from his pocket and slid them on, covering melted-chocolate eyes. The uniform changed him from the cowboy that sat with the guys during lunch to someone in authority.

Lacey nodded because he did have to leave Corry. What else could he do? What was Lacey going to do? Deny her sister? The Samaritan had cared for the man on the side of the road, a man he didn’t know. And Lacey knew Corry.

“She can stay. I’m off duty in thirty minutes.”

“Do you have to make it sound like the worst thing in the world?” Corry handed Lacey the baby and turned to pick up the backpack that Jay had pulled from the trunk of his car.

Lacey looked at the infant. The baby, Corry’s baby, was dressed in pink and without a single hair on her head. She was beautiful.

“Her name’s Rachel.” Corry tossed the information like it didn’t matter. “I heard that in a Bible story at the mission we’ve been living in. We couldn’t stay there, though. We need a real home.”

A real home? The one-room apartment that Lacey rented from the owners of the Hash-It-Out was hardly a home fit for three.

She inhaled a deep breath of air that smelled like the grill inside the diner, and the lunch special of fried chicken. Corry and a baby. Family meant something. Lacey had learned that in Gibson, not in the home she grew up in. Now was the time to put it into practice. She could tell her sister to leave, or she could be the person who gave Corry a chance.

Like the people of Gibson had done for her.

But what if Corry ruined everything? Lacey tucked that fear away, all the while ignoring the imposing Officer Blackhorse in his blue-and-gray uniform, gun hanging at his side.

“You know, you two could help me,” Corry tossed over her shoulder as she dug around in the back seat of the patrol car. “I haven’t eaten since this morning. And then I get here and you aren’t even glad to see me.”

Continuous jabber. Lacey tuned it out, nodding in what she hoped were the appropriate places. She held Corry’s baby close and took the car seat that Jay had pulled out of his car. His gaze caught and held hers for a moment, and his lips turned in a hesitant smile that shifted the smooth planes of his face. Jay with his perfect life and his perfect family.

She didn’t want to think about what he thought when he looked at her and her sister.

“Need anything?” Jay took a step back, but he didn’t turn away.

She shrugged off the old feelings of inadequacy and turned to face her sister. Corry shifted from foot to foot, hugging herself tight with arms that were too thin and scarred from track marks—evidence of her drug use.

“Lacey?” Jay hadn’t moved away and she didn’t know what to say.

* * *

Lacey Gould’s dark, lined eyes were luminous with unshed tears. Jay hadn’t expected that reaction from the waitress who always had a comeback. He held a grudging admiration for her because she never slowed down.

And he knew her secrets, just as he knew that her sister had prior arrests. Corry Gould had two drug convictions and one charge of prostitution. She was a repeat offender. A simple run through the state system was all it took to find out if a person had a criminal record. In Lacey’s case, the Gibson police chief had filled him in. Jay hadn’t been sure if it had been gossip or serious concern for his parents. They had spent a lot of time with Lacey Gould in his absence.

His parents hadn’t appreciated his concern, though. They knew all about Lacey’s arrest record, and they knew who she was now. That was good enough for them.

He’d been a cop for too long to let it be good enough for him.

Lacey shifted next to him, the baby fussing.

She was slight in build, but not thin. Her brown eyes often flashed with humor and she had a mouth that smiled as much as it talked. He tried to ignore the dark hair, cut in a chunky style and highlighted with streaks of red.

For the moment her energy and feistiness were gone. He couldn’t leave her like that.

“Lacey, I can take her to the station,” Jay offered, knowing she wouldn’t accept. She scraped leftovers from plates at the diner to feed stray cats; he doubted she would turn away her sister and that baby.

Corry moved closer to Lacey. The younger sister had the baby now, holding the infant in one arm and the dingy backpack in the other. Her eyes, blue, rather than Lacey’s dark brown, shimmered with tears.

Lacey was motionless and silent, staring at her sister and the baby.

“I have to take the baby somewhere, Lace. The guy who dropped me off at the city limits was going south, way south. I don’t have a way back to St. Louis.”

“I’m not going to turn my back on you, Corry. But as long as you’re here, you have to stay clean and stay out of trouble.”

“If it helps, I checked her bag and she doesn’t have anything on her.” Jay could tell when Lacey bit down on her bottom lip and studied her sister that this information didn’t really help.

He shrugged because he didn’t know what else to do. The two sisters were eyeing one another, the baby was fussing and his radio squawked a call. He stepped away from the two women and answered the county dispatcher.

“Sorry, I have to run, but if you need anything—” he handed Lacey a card with his cell phone number “—I’m just a phone call away.”

“Thanks, Jay. We’ll be fine.” She took the card and shoved it into her pocket without looking at him.

“That’s fine, but just in case.” He shifted his attention to her sister. He had a strong feeling that Corry wasn’t really here looking for a place to start over.

As he got into his patrol car and looked back, he saw Lacey standing on the sidewalk looking a little lost. He’d never seen that look on her face before, like she wasn’t sure of her next move.

He brushed off the desire to go back. He knew he couldn’t help her. Lacey was a force unto herself, independent and determined. He was pretty sure she didn’t need him, and more than positive he didn’t want to get involved.

* * *

Lacey watched Jay Blackhorse drive away before turning to face Corry again. The front door of the diner opened and Lacey’s boss, Jolynn, stepped outside.

“Honey, if you need to take off early, go ahead. We can handle it for thirty minutes without you.” Jolynn smiled at Corry.

Lacey wished she could do the same. She wished that seeing her sister here didn’t make her feel as if her life in Gibson was in danger.

“I can stay.” Lacey picked up the backpack that Corry had tossed on the ground.

“No, honey, I insist. Go home.” Jolynn patted her arm. “Take your sister on up to your place and get her settled.”

Lacey closed her eyes and counted to ten. She could do this. “Okay, thank you. I’ll grab my purse. But if you need…”

“We don’t need. You’re here too much as it is. It won’t hurt you to go home a few minutes early.”

Lacey stepped back inside the cool, air-conditioned diner with Jolynn, and pretended people weren’t staring, that they weren’t whispering and looking out the window at her sister.

She pretended it didn’t bother her. But it did. It bothered her to suddenly become the outsider again, after working so hard to gain acceptance. It bothered her that Jay Blackhorse never looked at her as though she belonged.

Jolynn gave her a light hug when she walked her to the door. “You’re a survivor, Lacey, and you’ll make it through this. God didn’t make a mistake, bringing that young woman to you.”

Lacey nodded, but she couldn’t speak. Jolynn smiled and opened the door for her. Lacey walked out into the hot July day. Corry had taken a seat on the bench and she stood up.

“Ready?” Lacey picked up her sister’s bag.

“Where’s your car?”

“I walk to work.”

“We have to walk?”

Lacey took off, letting Corry follow along behind her. Her sister mumbled and the baby whimpered in the infant seat. Lacey glanced back, the backpack and diaper bag slung over her shoulder, at her sister who carried the infant seat with the baby.

As they walked up the long driveway to the carriage-house apartment Lacey had lived in for over six years, Corry mumbled a little louder.

Lacey opened the door to her apartment and motioned her sister inside. The one room with a separate bathroom and a walk-in closet was less than five hundred square feet. Corry looked around, clearly not impressed.

“You’ve been living in a closet.” Corry smirked. “And I thought you were living on Walton’s Mountain.”

Ignore it. Let it go. Push the old Lacey aside. “I think you should feed the baby.”

“Ya think? So now you’re a baby expert.”

The old Lacey really wanted to speak up and say something mean. The new Lacey smiled. “I’m not an expert.”

Corry had done nothing but growl since they’d left the diner. Obviously she needed a fix. And she wasn’t going to get one.

“Is there another room?”

“No, there isn’t. We’ll make do here until I can get something else.” Lacey looked around the studio apartment that had been her home since she’d arrived in Gibson.

The home she would have to give up if Corry stayed in Gibson. Starting over again didn’t feel good. The baby whimpered. A six-week-old child, dependent on the adults in her life to make good choices for her.

Starting over for a baby. Lacey could do that. She would somehow make it work. She would do her best to help Corry, because that meant the baby had a chance.

Corry tossed her backpack into a corner of the room and dumped the baby, crying and working her fist in her mouth, onto the hide-a-bed that Lacey hadn’t put up that morning.

Lacey lifted the baby to her shoulder and rubbed the tiny back until she quieted. Corry had walked to the small kitchen area and was rummaging through the cabinets.

“You know, Corry, since you’re here, wanting a place to live, maybe you should try being nice.”

“I am being nice.” Corry turned from the cabinets and flashed a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “And your boyfriend is cute.”

“He isn’t my boyfriend.” Lacey walked across the room, the baby snuggling against her shoulder. She couldn’t let her sister bait her. She couldn’t let her mind go in that direction, with Jay Blackhorse as the hero that saved the day. “Corry, if you’re going to be here, there are a few rules.”

“Rules? I’m not fourteen anymore.”

“No, you’re not fourteen, but this is my house and my life that you’ve invaded.”

Lacey closed her eyes and tucked the head of the baby against her chin, soft and safe. Be fair, she told herself. “I’m sorry, Corry, I know you need a place for the baby.”

“I need a place for myself, too.”

“I know that, and I’m willing to help. But I have to know that you’re going to stay clean. You can’t play your games in Gibson.”

Corry turned, her elfin chin tilted and her eyes flashing anger. “You think you’re so good, don’t you, Lacey? You came to a small town where you pretend to be someone you’re not, and suddenly you’re too good for your family. You’re afraid that I’m going to embarrass you.”

“I’m not too good for my family. And it isn’t about being embarrassed.” It was about protecting herself, and the people she cared about.

It was about not being hurt or used again. And it was about keeping her life in order. She had left chaos behind when she left St. Louis.

“You haven’t been home in three years.” Corry shot the accusation at her, eyes narrowed.

No, Lacey hadn’t been home. That accusation didn’t hurt as much as the one about her pretending to be someone she wasn’t.

Maybe because she hoped if she pretended long enough, she would actually become the person she’d always believed she could be. She wouldn’t be the girl in the back of a patrol car, lights flashing and life crumbling. She wouldn’t be the young woman at the back of a large church, wondering why she couldn’t be loved without it hurting.

She wouldn’t be invisible.

Lacey shifted the fussing baby to one side and grabbed the backpack and searched for something to feed an infant. She found one bottle and a half-empty can of powdered formula.

“Feed your daughter, Corry.”

“Admit you’re no better than me.” Corry took the bottle and the formula, but she didn’t turn away.

“I’m not better than you.” Lacey swayed with the baby held against her. She wasn’t better than Corry, because just a few short years ago, she had been Corry.

But for the grace of God…

Her life had changed. She walked to the window and looked out at the quiet street lined with older homes centered on big, tree-shaded lawns. A quiet street with little traffic and neighbors that cared.

“Here’s her bottle.” Corry shoved the bottle at Lacey. “And since the bed is already out, I’m taking a nap.”

Lacey nodded, and then she realized what had just happened. Corry was already working her. Lacey slid the bottle into the mouth of the hungry infant and moved between her sister and the bed.

“No, you’re not going to sleep. That’s rule number one if you’re going to stay. You’re not going to sleep while I work, take care of the baby and feed you. I have to move to make this possible, so you’re going to have to help me out a little. I’ll have to find a place, and then we’ll have to pack.”

Corry was already shaking her head. “I didn’t say you have to move, so I’m not packing a thing.”

Twenty-some years of battling and losing.

“You’re going to feed Rachel.” Lacey held the baby out to her reluctant sister.

Corry took the baby, but her gaze shifted to the bed, the blankets pulled up to cover the pillows. For a moment Lacey almost caved. She nearly told her sister she could sleep, because she could see in Corry’s eyes that she probably hadn’t slept in a long time.

“Fine.” Corry sat down in the overstuffed chair that Jolynn had given Lacey when she’d moved into the carriage-house apartment behind the main house.

“I need to run down to the grocery store.” Lacey grabbed her purse. “When I get back, I’ll cook dinner. You can do the dishes.”

“They have a grocery store in this town?” Corry’s question drew Lacey out of thoughts that had turned toward how she’d miss this place, her first home in Gibson.

“Yes, they have a store. Do you need something?”

“Cig…”

“No, you won’t smoke in my house or around Rachel.”

“Fine. Get me some chocolate.”

Lacey stopped at the door. “I’m going to get formula and diapers for the baby. I’ll think about the chocolate.”

As she walked out the door, Lacey took a deep breath. She couldn’t do this. She stopped next to her car and tried to think of what she couldn’t do. The list was long. She couldn’t deal with her sister, or moving, or starting over again.

But she couldn’t mistreat Corry.

If she was going to have faith, and if she was ever going to show Corry that God had changed her life, then she had to be the person she claimed to be. She had to do more than talk about being a Christian.

She shoved her keys back into her purse and walked down the driveway. A memory flashed into her mind, ruining what should have been a relaxing walk. Jay’s face, looking at her and her sister as if the two were the same person.

Chapter Two


Jay finished his last report, on the accident he’d worked after leaving Lacey’s sister at the diner. He signed his name and walked into his boss’s office. Chief Johnson looked it over and slid it into the tray on his desk.

“Do you think the sister is going to cause problems?” Chief Johnson pulled off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Of course she will.”

“Why? Because she has a record? She could be like Lacey, really looking for a place to start over.”

“I don’t know that much about Lacey. But I’m pretty sure about her sister.”

“Okay, then. Make sure you patrol past Lacey’s place a few times every shift. I’ll let the other guys know.” The Chief put his glasses back on. “I guess you’ve got more work to do when you get home?”

“It’s Wednesday and Dad schedules his surgeries for today. I’ve got to get home and feed.”

“Tomorrow’s your day off. I’ll see you Friday.”

“Friday.” Jay nodded and walked out, fishing his keys out of his pocket as he walked.

He had to stop by the feed store on his way home, for the fly spray they’d ordered for him. At least he didn’t have to worry about dinner.

His mom always cooked dinner for him on Wednesdays. She liked having him home again, especially with his brother and sister so far away. His sister lived in Georgia with her husband and new baby. His brother was in the navy.

It should have been an easy day to walk off the job, but it wasn’t. As he climbed into his truck he was still remembering the look on Lacey’s face when she watched her sister get out of the back of his car.

He knew what it was like to have everything change in just a moment. Life happened that way. A person could feel like they have it all under control, everything planned, and then suddenly, a complete change of plans.

A year ago he really had thought that by now he’d be married and living in his new home with a wife and maybe a baby of his own on the way.

Instead he was back in Gibson and Cindy was on her way to California. She’d been smarter than him; she’d realized three years of dating didn’t equal love. And he was still living in the past, in love with a memory.

As he passed the store, he saw his mom’s car parked at an angle, between the lines and a little too far back into the street. He smiled, because that was his mom. She lived her life inside the lines, but couldn’t drive or park between them.

Other than the parking problem, they were a lot alike.

He drove to the end of the block, then decided to go back. She typically wasn’t in town this time of day. Something must have gone wrong with dinner. He smiled because something usually did go wrong.

He parked in front of the store and reached for the truck-door handle. He could see his mom inside; she was talking to Lacey Gould. He let go of the door handle and sat back to wait.

He sat in the truck for five minutes. His mom finally approached the cash register at the single counter in the store. She paid, talked to the cashier for a minute and then walked out the door. Lacey was right behind her.

Talk about a day going south in a hurry.

“Jay, you remember Lacey.” Wilma Blackhorse turned a little pink. “Of course you do, you saw her this afternoon.”

“Mom, we’ve met before.” He had lived in Springfield, not Canada. He’d just never really had a reason to talk to Lacey.

Until today.

“Of course you have.” His mom handed him her groceries and then leaned into the truck, resting her arms on the open window. “Well, I just rented her your grandparents’ old house. And since you have tomorrow off, I told her you would help them move.”

“That really isn’t necessary.” Lacey, dark hair framing her face and brown eyes seeking his, moved a little closer to his truck. “I can move myself.”

“Of course you can’t. What are you going to do, put everything in the back of your car?” Wilma shook her head and then looked at Jay again.

Lacey started to protest, and Jay had a few protests of his own. He didn’t need trouble living just down the road from them. His mom had no idea what kind of person Corry Gould was.

Not that it would have stopped her.

He reached for another protest, one that didn’t cast stones.

“Mom, we’re fixing that house up for Chad.” Jay’s brother. And one summer, a long time ago, it had been Jamie’s dream home. For one summer.

It had been a lifetime ago, and yet he still held on to dreams of forever and promises whispered on a summer night. His mom had brought Jamie and her family to Gibson, and changed all of their lives forever.

“Oh, Jay, Chad won’t be out of the navy for three years. If he even gets out of the navy. You know he wants to make it a career.” She patted his arm. “And you’re building a house, so you don’t need it.”

He opened his mouth with more objections, but his mom’s eyes narrowed and she gave a short shake of her head. Jay smiled past her.

Lacey, street-smart and somehow shy. And he didn’t want to like her. He didn’t want to see vulnerability in her eyes.

“I’ll be over at about nine in the morning.” He didn’t sigh. “I’ll bring a stock trailer.”

“I don’t want you to have to spend your day moving me.”

He started his truck. “It won’t be a problem. See you in the morning.”

“Don’t forget dinner tonight,” his mom reminded.

“You don’t have to cook for me. I could pick something up at the diner.”

“I have a roast in the Crock-Pot.”

That was about the worst news he’d heard all day. He shot a look past her and Lacey smiled, her dark eyes twinkling a little.

“A roast.” He nodded. “That sounds good. Lacey, maybe you all could join us for dinner.”

“Oh, I can’t. I have to get home and pack.”

He tipped his hat at her and gave her props for a quick escape. She’d obviously had his mother’s roast before.

“Thanks, Jay.” Lacey Gould backed away, still watching him, as if she wanted something more from him. He didn’t have more to give.

“See you at home, honey.” His mom patted his arm.

“Mom…”

His mom hurried away, leaving him with the groceries and words of caution he had wanted to offer her. She must have known what he had to say. And she would have called him cynical and told him to give Lacey Gould and her sister a chance.

* * *

Lacey woke up early the next morning to soft gray light through the open window and the song of a meadowlark greeting the day. She rolled over on the air mattress she’d slept on and listened to unfamiliar sounds that blended with the familiar.

A rustle and then a soft cry. She sat up, brushing a hand through her hair and then rubbing sleep from her eyes. She waited a minute, blinking away the fuzzy feeling. The baby cried again.

“Corry, wake up.” Lacey pushed herself up off the mattress and walked to the hide-a-bed. Corry’s face was covered with the blanket and she slept curled fetus-style on her side.

“Come on, moving day.”

Corry mumbled and pulled the pillow over her head.

Lacey stepped away from the bed and reached into the bassinet for the pacifier to quiet the baby. Rachel’s eyes opened and she sucked hard on the binky. Lacey kissed the baby’s soft little cheek and smiled.

“I’ll get your bottle.”

And then she’d finish packing. She side-stepped boxes as she walked to the kitchen. Nearly everything was packed. It hadn’t taken long. Six years and she’d accumulated very little. She had books, a few pictures and some dust bunnies. She wouldn’t take those with her.

Memories. She had plenty of memories. She’d found a picture of herself and Bailey at Bailey’s wedding, and a note from Bailey’s father’s funeral last year.

She’d lived a real life in this apartment. In this apartment she had learned to pray. She had cooked dinner for friends. She had let go of love. She had learned to trust herself. Dating Lance had taught her lessons in trusting someone else. And when not to trust.

The baby was crying for real. Lacey filled the bottle and set it in a cup to run hot water over it. The bed squeaked. She turned and Corry was sitting up, looking sleepy and younger than her twenty-two years.

Life hadn’t really been fair. Lacey reminded herself that her sister deserved a chance. Corry deserved for someone to believe in her.

Lacey remembered life in that bug-infested apartment that had been her last home in St. Louis. She closed her eyes and let the bad memories of her mother and nights cowering in a closet with Corry slide off, like they didn’t matter.

She picked up the bottle and turned off the water. The dribble of formula she squeezed onto her wrist was warm. She took the bottle back to Corry and then lifted the baby out of the bassinet.

“Can you feed her while I finish packing?” Lacey kissed her niece and then lowered her into Corry’s waiting arms.

Corry stared down at the infant, and then back at Lacey. “You make it look so easy.”

“It isn’t easy, Corry.”

“I thought it would be. I thought I’d just feed her and she’d sleep, and stuff. I didn’t want to give her away to someone I didn’t know.”

Lacey looked away from the baby and from more memories.

“I need to pack.”

“I’m sorry, Lacey.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Lacey grabbed clothes out of her dresser. “I’m going to take a shower while you feed her. You need to make sure you’re up and around before Jay gets here.”

When Lacey walked out of the bathroom, he was standing by the door, a cowboy in jeans, a T-shirt and a ball cap covering his dark hair. He nodded and moved away from the door. In the small confines of her apartment she realized how tall he was, towering over her, making her feel smaller than her five-feet-five height.

“Oh, you’re earlier than I expected.”

“I thought it would be best if we got most of it done before it gets hot.”

“I don’t have a lot. It won’t take long.” She looked around and so did Jay. This was her life, all twenty-eight years packed into a studio apartment.

“We should be able to get it all in the stock trailer and the back of my truck.”

“Do you want a cup of coffee first? I still have a few things to pack.”

“No coffee for me. I’ll start carrying boxes out.”

Lacey pointed to the boxes that she’d packed the night before. And she let him go, because he was Jay Blackhorse and he wasn’t going to sit and have a cup of coffee with her. And she was okay with that.

Her six-month relationship with Lance Carmichael had taught her a lot. He had taught her not to open her heart up, not to share. She would never forget that last night, their last date.

I can’t handle this. It’s too much reality. His words echoed in her mind, taunting her, making a joke of her dreams.

“Are there any breakables in the boxes?” Jay had crossed the room.

Lacey turned from pouring herself a cup of coffee. He stood in front of the boxes, tall and suntanned, graceful for his size. He was all country, right down to the worn boots and cracked leather belt.

He turned and she smiled, because he wore a tan-and-brown beaded necklace that didn’t fit what she knew about Jay Blackhorse. Not that she knew much. Or would ever know much.

Funny, she wanted to know more. Maybe because he was city and country, Aeropostale and Wrangler. Maybe it was the wounded look in his eyes, brief flashes that she caught from time to time, before he shut it down and turned on that country-boy smile.

“I’ve marked the ones that are fragile,” she answered, and then grabbed an empty box to pack the stuff in the kitchen that she hadn’t gotten to the night before.

Jay picked up a box and walked out the front door, pushing it closed behind him. And Corry whistled. Lacey shot her sister a warning look and then turned to the cabinet of canned goods and boxes of cereal. She agreed with the whistle.

Two hours later Lacey followed behind Jay’s truck and the stock trailer that contained her life. Corry had stayed behind. And that had been fine with Lacey. She didn’t need her sister underfoot, and the baby would be better in an empty apartment than out in the sun while they unloaded furniture and boxes.

From visits with Jay’s mom, Lacey had seen the farmhouse where Jay’s grandparents had lived. But as she pulled up, it changed and it became her home. She swallowed a real lump in her throat as she parked next to the house and got out of her car.

The lawn was a little overgrown and the flower gardens were out of control, but roses climbed the posts at the corner of the porch and wisteria wound around a trellis at one side of the covered porch.

Her house.

Jay got out of his truck and joined her. “It isn’t much.”

“It’s a house,” she whispered, knowing he wouldn’t understand. She could look down the road and see the large brick house he’d grown up in. It had five bedrooms and the living room walls were covered with pictures of the children and the new grandchild that Wilma Blackhorse didn’t get to see enough of.

“Yes, it’s a house.” He kind of shrugged. He didn’t get it.

“I’ve never lived in a house.” She bit down on her bottom lip, because that was more than she’d wanted to share, more than she wanted him to know about her.

“I see.” He looked down at her, his smile softer than before. “You grew up in St. Louis, right?”

“Yes.”

“I guess moving to Gibson was a big change?”

“It was.” She walked to the back of his truck. “I want to thank you for this place, Jay. I know that you don’t want me here…”

He raised a hand and shook his head. “This isn’t my decision. But I don’t have anything against you being here.”

She let it go, but she could have argued. Of course he minded her being there. She could see it in his eyes, the way he watched her. He didn’t want her anywhere near his family farm.

* * *

Jay followed Lacey up the back steps of the house and into the big kitchen that his grandmother had spent so much time in. The room was pale green and the cabinets were white. His mom had painted it a few years ago to brighten it up.

But it still smelled like his grandmother, like cantaloupe and vine-ripened tomatoes. He almost expected her to be standing at the stove, taking out a fresh batch of cookies.

The memory brought a smile he hadn’t expected. It had been a long time since his grandmother’s image had been the one that he envisioned in this house. It took him by surprise, that it wasn’t Jamie he thought of in this house, the way he’d thought of her for nine years. He put the box down and realized that Lacey was watching him.

“Good memories?” she asked, curiosity in brown eyes that narrowed to study his face.

“Yes, good memories. My grandmother was a great cook.”

He didn’t say, “unlike Mom.”

“Oh, I see.”

“I guess you probably do. My mom tries too hard to be creative. She always ends up adding the wrong seasoning, the wrong spices. You know she puts cinnamon and curry on her roast, right?”

Lacey nodded. She was opening cabinets and peeking in the pantry. She turned, her smile lighting her face and settling in her eyes. Over a house.

“I love your mom.” Lacey opened the box she’d carried in. “I want to be like her someday.”

She turned a little pink and he didn’t say anything.

“I want to have a garden and can tomatoes in the fall,” she explained, still pink, and it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

He didn’t want to hear her dreams, or what she thought about life. He didn’t want to get pulled into her world. He wanted to live his life here, in Gibson, and he didn’t want it to be complicated.

Past to present, Lacey Gould was complicated.

And she thought he was perfect. He could see it in her eyes, the way she looked at him, at his home and his family. She had some crazy idea that if a person was a Blackhorse, they skipped through life without problems, or without making mistakes.

“It’s a little late for a garden this year.” He started to turn away, but the contents of the box she was unpacking pulled him back. “Dogs?”

“What?”

“You like dogs.”

“I like to collect them.” She took a porcelain shepherd out of the box and dusted it with her shirt.

“How many more do you have?” He glanced into the box.

“Dozens.”

“Okay, I have to ask, why dogs?”

She looked up at him, her head cocked a little to the side and a veil of dark brown hair falling forward to cover one cheek.

“Dogs are cute.” She smiled, and he knew that was all he’d get from her.

He didn’t really want more.

* * *

Dogs are cute. As Jay walked through the front door of his house the next morning, he had a hard time believing that Lacey could be right about dogs. He looked down at his bloodhound and shook his head. Dogs weren’t cute. Dogs chewed up a guy’s favorite shoes. Dogs slobbered and chewed on the leg of a chair.

“You’re a pain in my neck.” He ignored the sad look on the dog’s face. “You have no idea how much I liked those shoes. And Mom is going to kill you for what you did to that chair.”

Pete whined and rested his head on his paws. Jay picked up the leather tennis shoe and pointed it at the dog. Pete buried his slobbery face between his paws and Jay couldn’t help but smile.

“Crazy mutt.” Jay dropped the shoe. “So I guess I keep you and buy new shoes. Someday, buddy, someday it’ll be one shoe too many. You’re too old for this kind of behavior.”

The dog’s ears perked. Jay walked to the window and looked out. A truck was pulling away from the house at the end of the dirt lane. Two days after the fact and he remembered what the Chief had told him: keep an eye on things at Lacey’s. Well, now it would be easy, because Lacey was next door.

He turned and pointed toward the back door. Pete stood up, like standing took a lot of effort, and lumbered to the door. “Outside today, my friend. Enjoy the wading pool, and don’t chew up the lawn furniture.”

One last look back and Pete went out the door, his sad eyes pleading with Jay for a reprieve. “Not today, Pete.”

Jay walked across his yard, his attention on the house not far from his. A five-acre section of pasture separated them. He could see Lacey standing in the yard, pulling on the cord of a push mower.

He glanced at his watch. He had time before he had to head to work. Pushing aside his better sense, he headed down the road to see if she needed help.

“Good morning, neighbor.” She stopped pulling and smiled when he walked up. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“No, thanks.” He moved a little closer. “Do you want me to start it for you?”

“If you can. I’ve been pulling on that thing for five minutes.”

“Does it have gas in it?”

She bit down on her bottom lip and her hands slid into her pockets. “I didn’t check.”

He would have laughed, but she already looked devastated. Mowing the lawn was probably a big part of the having-a-house adventure. He wouldn’t tease her. He also wouldn’t burst her bubble by telling her it wouldn’t stay fun for long.

“Do you have a gas can?”

“By the porch. Cody brought it. I just figured the mower was full.” She went to get the can of gas. Cody was a good guy to bring it. Jay liked the husband of one of his childhood friends, Bailey Cross.

Jay opened the gas cap, pushed the machine and shook his head. “No gas. He probably filled the gas can on the way over, so you’d have it.”

“Of course.” She had the gas can and he took it from her to fill the tank.

“I can mow it for you.”

“No, I want to do it. Remember, I’ve never had a lawn.”

The front door opened. Lacey’s sister stepped out with the baby in her arms. The child was crying, her arms flailing the air. Corry shot a look in his direction. He tried not to notice the eyes that were rimmed with dark circles, or the way perspiration beaded across her pale face. He looked away.

“She won’t stop crying.” Corry pushed the baby into Lacey’s arms.

“Did you burp her?” Lacey lifted the infant to her shoulder. “Corry, you have to take care of her. She’s your daughter. You’re all she has.”

“I don’t want to be all she has. How can I take care of her?”

“The same way thousands of moms take care of their children. You have to use a little common sense.” Lacey made it look easy, leaning to kiss the baby’s cheek, talking in quiet whispers that soothed the little girl.

He could have disagreed with Lacey. Not all moms knew how to take care of children. He’d been a police officer for five years. He’d seen a lot.

“I should go. I have to work today, but I wanted to make sure you have everything you need.” He told himself he wasn’t running from something uncomfortable.

“We’re good.” Lacey looked down at the baby. “Jay, thanks for this place.”

“It needed to be rented.” He shrugged it off. “But you’re welcome.”

“Hey, wait a minute.” Corry moved forward, her thin arms crossed in front of her, hugging herself tight. “Aren’t you going to tell him about the stove?”

Lacey smiled. “It isn’t a big deal. I can fix it.”

“Fix what?”

“One of the knobs is broken. I have to go to Springfield tonight. I can pick one up.”

“What are you going to Springfield for?” Corry pushed herself into the conversation.

“None of your business.” Lacey snuggled the baby and avoided looking at either of them. And Jay couldn’t help but be curious. It was a hazard of his job. What was she up to?

“I can fix the stove, Lacey,” he offered.

“Jay, I don’t want you to think you have to run over here and fix every little thing that goes wrong. I’m pretty self-sufficient. I can even change my own lightbulbs.”

“I’m sure you can.” He looked at his watch. “Tell you what. You pick up the knob. I’ll have my dad come over and fix it tomorrow.”

That simplified everything. It meant he stayed out of her business. And she didn’t feel like he was taking care of her.

“Good.” She smiled her typical Lacey smile, full of optimism.

He had to take that thought back. Her sister showing up in town had emptied her of that glass-half-full attitude. Maybe her cheerful attitude did have limits.

“Do you want to see if the mower will start now?” He recapped the gas can and set it on the ground next to the mower. Lacey still held the baby.

“No, I have to get ready for work now.”

“See you at the diner.” He tipped his hat and escaped.

When he glanced back over his shoulder, they were walking back into the house and he wondered if Lacey would survive her sister being in her life.

And if he would survive the two of them in his.

Ücretsiz ön izlemeyi tamamladınız.

Yaş sınırı:
0+
Litres'teki yayın tarihi:
30 aralık 2018
Hacim:
394 s. 8 illüstrasyon
ISBN:
9781474032964
Telif hakkı:
HarperCollins

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