Second Chance Ranch (2 page)

Because of Jennifer O’Reilly, he’d felt like one of the family rather than the black sheep, the same stigma that had sent him running from Hawk Ridge years ago. “I told you I had to go to the Cattlemen’s Conference. I didn’t even go to bed that night. I barely made it to registration as it was.”

She locked her arms across her chest and gave him the single raised brow. “Zac, who are you kidding? You’ll never call Hawk Ridge home. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lake to mop up before I’m due at the clinic.”

He wasn’t going to push it. He had some serious talking to do with Jennifer O’Reilly over a matter of equal importance to both of them. The last thing he wanted was her locked and loaded for bear. “Where’s a mop? I’ll help you clean up.”

She turned aside and rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers. “I’ll take care of it. Just go.”

Zac wanted to argue, but thought better of it. If she wanted him gone now, fine. He’d be back. “Glad I could help with the leak. See ya soon, Bean.”

* * *

Bean. Stupid nickname.

Jen finished mopping up the floor and tossed the last dry towel she had into the laundry pile. The dark pine floor showed every wet footstep on her way to the bathroom. Dropping her soaked clothes in a heap, she slipped into her bath robe, mumbling the whole time. Zac had this power over her since they were kids. He’d say let’s go do this, and she’d follow despite her better judgment. Zac had always been a magnet for trouble. Not that he ever meant any of it, he just got carried away having a good time and left his good sense packed away until after the damage was done.

Pulling out a clean pair of jeans and a tank top, she rummaged through her closet for a shirt before facing her reflection in the mirror. What was wrong with her? Every time Zac Davidson poked his nose into her life, she suffered for it. It didn’t matter that they were best friends as kids, or high school sweethearts, or the most whispered about couple at his brother’s wedding. Whenever Zac breezed into her life, she needed to watch out because the only one that ever got hurt was her.

But that’s okay, she countered as she set down her brush. She’d learned to deal with it. She’d fantasized about happily ever after with Zac Davidson so many years ago, but came to her senses. The familiar pain tore at her stomach as the consequences of their relationship jolted her, just as it did every time she heard his name. To say it ended poorly was putting it mildly. Never would she be put in that position again. Still, her heart had a mind of its own. Foolishly she’d trusted him the last time he was home, believing he wanted to settle down.

Flicking off the bathroom light, she marched through the house buttoning her shirt and looking for her shoes. She’d handed her heart to Zac twice in her lifetime. Despite the fact he still kissed like a dream, she wasn’t about to fall for a third.

Scooping her truck keys out of the ceramic bowl on the table beside the front door, she flicked through the accumulated mail. An envelope from her lawyer caught her eye. If she dug it out, she’d see the emerald green typeset further down the cream colored envelope. Trevor’s office was just down from the clinic. She’d stop in after checking the records of the kids coming into camp. Her last session of camp for cancer children started on Monday. Offering a session in September meant more drastic temperature fluctuations, but fall was such a pretty time in Hawk Ridge and the camp registration had filled to capacity. All she could do was put it in God’s hands.

The clap of metal on metal rang across the yard as she stepped out of the house. Pulling the door closed behind her, she kept her eyes on the equipment shed across the open parking area. Zac’s truck stood parked in the shade of a cluster of Ponderosa pines while he poked at the ancient John Deere settled among a variety of farm implements. Apprehension grew with her frustration. Couldn’t he just leave?

Jen forced her pace to a stroll. As she approached, Zac slapped the door of the tractor and shook his head. He mumbled something she couldn’t understand.

Digging her fingers into the tailgate of his pickup, she watched him from across the truck bed. “Zac, what are you doing here?”

“What I was going to do before I heard your death cry. Checking equipment.” He stepped out of the shadow of the shed and approached his truck.

No amount of time would ever change the easy swagger that came naturally to Zac Davidson. Jen swallowed as she forced herself not to stare at the wet jeans clinging to strong muscles with each step. His cream colored shirt appeared almost dry with only a few wet blotches outlining his broad shoulders and muscular biceps. A short time ago, those strong, capable arms had held her in welcome, his kiss as familiar as the very breath she took.

She squeezed her eyes shut.
No Lord, not again. I can’t do this again.
She drew a breath and opened her eyes as Zac stopped and rested his elbows on the tailgate of his truck.

He nodded toward the slope past the barn. “I’ll be haying for the next few weeks.”

Alert overrode caution as her nerve endings sparked like blown fuses. “Splint and Max are doing that. And they have plenty of help. They’ve got most of the hay cut. We’re managing fine.”

“Jess thinks you need a little help.” Zac tipped his ball cap back letting dark hair curl around his temples.

“Jess Eklund? What’s Jess got to do with anything?” Her mind stalled at his mention of Arthur Eklund’s son. Jess had been nothing but a bully when they were kids. Rumor had it Jess hadn’t changed even though he owned one of the most successful steakhouse chains in the state. “Why didn’t you tell me that in the kitchen?”

“You were preoccupied.” He dragged his hand down his face as if weary of the entire situation. “Jess called me as a friend to oversee the harvest, that’s all. Look Jen, that’s a lot of acreage to bale and stack. It’s going to be tough to finish in a couple of weeks even with all of us working full-time.” He waved his hand toward the barn and assortment of out buildings surrounding it. “Why don’t you take care of your business, I’ll handle mine and we’ll all be right where the good Lord wants us.”

“Zac Davidson, don’t talk down to me.” She leapt around the back bumper and planted her feet toe to toe with his, her hand waving toward the barn as he’d done. “
I am
where the good Lord wants me. It’s you who’s not. Go back to Denver and keep the family business on a financial high - isn’t that what you do these days?” Satisfaction flared in her soul as he took a step back from the finger she drilled into his chest. “I can’t afford any problems.”

“I can work the company numbers anywhere, Bean.” He caught her wrist, his grip putting an end to her harping. “What are you talking about? I’ve been haying my whole life. I know what I’m doing.”

“The income off that hay is important to my loan application. I need someone I can depend on. Someone who isn’t going to leave when a better offer comes along.” She rolled her eyes and blew out a breath. “Max and Splint are working out just fine. They’ll get the hay in and make repairs to the house. I’ve got the camp covered. I’ve got a lot to prepare or the bank committee won’t approve my loan. Don’t screw up my system.”

He studied her, his deep dark gaze tracing patterns over her face. She could only guess for what he searched. Zac, her childhood friend, rodeoed to his own tune, not caring who he dragged down along the way. His enthusiasm and innocent appeal had been the downfall of many of their adventures. Problem was, Zac never thought ahead to consider if those joining in his schemes knew how to catch themselves before they fell to the rocky ground below. What worked out great for Zac, usually spelled disaster for everyone else.

Three weeks was all she had left before the committee evaluated her proposal to purchase the ranch. She’d been doing fine until Jess Eklund asked to review her business plan incorporating the agricultural acreage. If it were up to Jess, Jen knew he’d try to sabotage her efforts out of spite, if for nothing else. So, on top of her duties as Health Director for the camp, she’d been researching viable options of crop management.

Still, she grudgingly admitted, Zac was right. Even with the three of them directing crews and working full-time, while praying for dry weather and sound equipment, the load pushed the edge of her contractual envelope.

What choice did she have? She had to trust Zac.

“Please, Zac.” Jen turned her wrist in his grip until she slid her palm against his, pushing into his solid strength. She didn’t know what she was asking of him, all she knew was in a split moment the tides had changed and he held her future in his two strong, more than capable, hands. “I need everything to go right.”

The muscles in his cheek worked in concentration just as they had before every rodeo event where he and her brother, Kade, broke the gate after a calf. His skin warmed in her grip. She caught his gaze again and wished she could read his mind rather than just guessing.

His rich brown eyes focused on her as the one side of his mouth tipped up creating a hint of a dimple in his cheek. “You take care of that camp and leave the rest of the place to me.”

* * *

“My weeks are getting full, Trevor.” Jen fanned the pages of her personal calendar. “Once I close on the purchase of the ranch, I’ll have to start working on renovations to the older cabins.”

“Exactly why you need to go after these sponsorships, Jennifer.” Trevor Hockett tapped the end of his pen against the top of the desk. “If you want money to make changes, you have to attend these functions during your down time.”

Down time? What was that? Jen looked at the fund-raising plan Trevor proposed and couldn’t contain her sigh. A few years older and a genius at non-profit PR, Trevor Hockett thrived on the challenge of making the little guy profitable. Exactly what Jen needed right now, but not on the accelerated plan he proposed. Like a Jack Russell Terrier with his eye on a stick to be thrown, Trevor anticipated shortfalls, planned for contingencies and not only had Plan B ready, but Plans C, D, E were probably scribbled on the back of his legal pad kept within reaching distance.

Besides having perfected his Type A personality, he embodied the best of all worlds to the female singles’ population of the Gunnison Valley – educated, established, eligible. Not to mention exceedingly handsome in a well put-together sort of way. Jen admired his quick mind for planning to keep her camp afloat, but she much preferred men with easy-going attitudes. Too much time spent with Trevor left her exhausted.

“I can’t do anything until October and even then, it’s going to be tight.” She flipped the page to the month. “I already have a block of meetings planned with the hospital board and the foundation.”

“We have a 50-50 chance of securing sponsorships during the last quarter of the fiscal year. Either the corporations I’ve researched have set aside money to spend at the end of the year, or they’ll fall in love with your concept and find money to invest.” He leaned back in his chair, a confident smile on his face. “Either way, we have to plan for January and February and make sure we get in on the ground floor of budgets.”

The battle gleam blazed in his blue eyes. Crisp and sharp, ready for the challenge. Zac wore crisp and sharp well too, but humor lurked within the deep brown, a call to adventure rather than a battle cry. She blinked and tried to focus on the typed words in her hand. Zac had nothing to do with this. If anything, maybe she did need to consider battle the operative word where Zac Davidson was concerned. Forget the excitement that strung her nerves in tight anticipation every time he looked at her.

“Trevor, whatever you think is best.” She tucked the papers into her folder and gave a discreet roll to loosen her shoulder muscles. “Right now, I have to concentrate on a planting schedule for the bank to review. Like I said, I can’t do anything until next month.”

A smug smile lifted the corners of his mouth. He elbows raised as he laced his fingers behind his head, the edges of his suit coat falling aside and revealing the contours of his sturdy chest beneath the crisp, white shirt. “I never thought Jess Eklund would come back to Hawk Ridge. Probably sound decision to sell the place. Can’t argue he contributes a lot to the valley, supporting the farmers and ranchers, but retaining ownership of the Trails’ End is a headache he doesn’t need.”

A flash of irritation rushed through her. Why was everyone praising a man who had done nothing but aggravate his aging father? “He knows nothing about the Trails’ End except its monetary value.”

Trevor gave her a lazy once over as if assessing whether the comment warranted a response. “He’s a business man with a great mind for investment. The family ranch may be rich in memories, but the physical aspects are of no use to him. He’s making a sound decision.”

She wanted to stick her tongue out at his frankness. Zac’s, too. Obviously Trevor and Zac hadn’t a clue what a monster Jess could really be. “I’m taking a crash course on ranching.”

“Not so easy, is it?” He lowered his arms, straightening his jacket and tie before sitting forward in his chair. “Doing two jobs when you’d prefer to just have the one. Jess wants to build his chain of steakhouses the way he knows how without the distraction of fringe investments. You want to run the best camp recovering kids can attend without the hassle of learning a trade you have no interest in. Really, you and Jess have seats in the same stadium watching the same game wanting the same outcome only viewing it from opposite sides.” He lifted a brow. “You’re just lucky his father’s will gives you and your camp first crack at the property.”