Second Chance Ranch (8 page)

She’d given up their child. What had he done to deserve that?

* * *

“Enjoy the day the Lord has made!”

Cheers rose in the recreation building as Patrick, the head camp counselor gave the closing to the devotion. The kids broke rank and ran out the door, Jen not even urging caution. She picked up a couple of stray napkins and threaded through the maze of chairs. God had granted the campers gorgeous days for this late in the summer. She hoped and prayed the mild weather held for another couple weeks.

“We’ve had quite a crew through this session.” Patrick grabbed a couple chairs and clapped them into stacks. “You’ve had a great season running the camp all by yourself, Jennifer.”

She couldn’t help but agree the first three sessions had gone well, and with this one wrapping up, her summer appeared emergency-free. “You just keep covering all those kids in prayer and winding them up for the day and we’ll have a terrific time. What are the plans?”

“Cheryl and Janet had to leave early. Last year of college for them both. Wanted to get back to Denver and get settled in before classes started.”

“Can’t blame them. I was antsy to finish, too.” She pushed the stack of chairs up against the wall. “Are we short-handed for the last group coming up?”

“Not really. We’ve had forty-five campers the other sessions. This time we only have thirty-five. And with news spreading about this great program, I've got volunteers coming out of the woodwork. I think we’ll manage.”

“I can’t believe families want to come up in September. The nights will be cold.”

“It’s our prettiest time of the year, though.” Patrick indicated the group playing just outside the barn door. “The kids are sturdy, we’ll be okay.”

“I’m ready for winter break.” Jen wiped her brow of mock sweat. “I’m worn out.”

“You just need a spark in your life.” He nudged her on the shoulder as his infectious laugh filled the empty recreation hall.

Five years older and a hundred times more energetic, Patrick Marsh held more optimism in his little finger than Jennifer could muster out of her entire five-foot-ten-inch frame. Not fair in the least. Where all Jen wanted was to drag home at the end of the day, he came alive and entertained at the campfire and then watched movies with the kids until lights out.

Every summer camp needed a Patrick Marsh. She thanked God every night he’d been assigned to the Summit Camp at Trails’ End by the Mercy Life faculty. Between directing the health program at the camp, working with sponsors and developing a business plan, she barely had enough energy to glow much less to ignite sparks.

“Sparks lead to fire.” She pointed out. “Fires burn forests and forest fires cause camp evacuations. How about we think more along the lines of water sports?”

“Kill joy.” A hint of curiosity colored his voice as he glanced out the window toward the playground. “So, what’s the story with the cowboy?

Heat raced through her so fast, Jen thought she’d ignite despite her prior dousing of sparks. “The owner of the property brought him in to oversee the haying.” She forced a smile. “Glad Zac’s here to do it. Didn’t know how I’d keep track of all the physical asset responsibility of the property.”

“Zac, is it now?” Patrick eyed her. “Mighty chummy for a cowboy new to the place.”

Jennifer turned from his all-knowing stare. Patrick’s penchant for curiosity had caught her off guard many times. “New to the Trails’ End, but not to Hawk Ridge. I’ve known him forever. No big deal.”

“Maybe he can give you some business plan pointers. If he’s up here to look after the harvest, he probably knows ways to make it profitable.”

The familiar stomp of boots across the pine grain laminate floor made Jen perk up. Hadn’t Zac said he needed to go to town? She turned just as he stopped beside her, looking all solid and handsome, and smelling undeniably wonderful. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Last time they’d talked, he’d peeled out of her parking lot, dirt and gravel spewing from all four tires.

She glance up quickly and tensed at his easy smile. She didn’t buy it. “Zac—”

“This lodge is great.” He cut her off. “No wonder Jess is worried about the harvest coming in to make a loan payment. I’ve never seen the whole looking so good.” Zac stuck out his hand. “Zac Davidson. Hired hand.”

Patrick accepted the offer with a firm shake. “Patrick Marsh, camp counselor. Jennifer mentioned Splint and Max were about to get some direction in their duties.”

Zac gave a low chuckle that warmed Jen right in the pit of her belly, reminding her of years gone by. Before thoughts of love had entered the picture. Before
complicated
became her byword. Before she had to share her secret.

She swallowed to clear her throat. “The guys know what they’re doing.”

“’Course they do,” Zac agreed easily. “They just need another pair of hands to get it done. They’ve already completed most of the cutting but we’ve got a lot of acres to cover and I doubt Jen here has the time to bale and stack hay.”

“Sums it up pretty much even though this camping session is a little smaller than the others. We’ve always got to keep an eye out for the kids and their safety.” Patrick nodded toward the playground. “Speaking of which, I’ve got a soccer game to organize before there’s mutiny. Tonight’s movie night, Zac. Why don’t you stop by?”

“Chances are I’ll be cutting until late. Thanks for the invite, though.”

Patrick waved as he trotted off toward the game.

“Can I have a word with you? In private?”

The bile in her stomach rose to her throat. “I really should be helping Patrick.”

“This will only take a minute.”

She nodded, wrapping her arms across her midsection. Turning the corner, she led him to a darkened alcove Patrick used as his office. Unless they wanted to go to the clinic or back to the ranch house, this was as private as they were going to get. Probably a good idea to keep a potentially volatile conversation within sight of witnesses.

“I can’t begin to understand this entire situation so I’m not going to pretend. It’s going to take me a long time to figure things out - time this little girl probably doesn’t have.” He began to pace within the confines of the minuscule space, clasping his hands and rubbing his thumb into his palm. “I’ve played every scenario possible through my mind and I always end up at the same place - if I wasn’t a blood relative, it would be pretty difficult for me to be a match. And why would you drag me into this if I wasn’t a viable possibility?”

He stopped in front of her. Even by the dim light filtering around the cork partition from the rec area, Jen noticed the dark circles under his eyes. She wanted to sweep all this heartache and grief away. But it was a bit late for wishful thinking.

“Is this girl-”

“Carli. Her name is Carli.”

“Is Carli really my child?”

Tears stung her eyes. “Yes.”

She couldn’t tell if resignation or burden caused his shoulders to slump. His jaw worked, bunching the muscles in an erratic rhythm.

Jennifer couldn’t take it anymore. “Let me show you something.”

Clicking on the button of Patrick’s computer monitor, Jen logged into the system and typed in the Internet address she’d never be able to erase from her mind. Giving the system a moment to locate the site, she angled the monitor toward Zac.

“Zac, meet your daughter.”

CHAPTER FIVE

A fission of dread raced up his spine.

Zac stopped pacing and stood beside the desk piled high with folders and books, and a desktop computer vintage last decade if he recognized his PC models. Jen’s fingers raced over the keyboard, her series of taps and spaces tipped him off she’d done this a time or two. Her blue gaze flitted over the screen a second before she turned the monitor for him to see.

A picture of a little girl wearing a cowboy hat filled the sidebar beneath a banner proclaiming a social site for a hospital in Minnesota. Wisps of hair curled beneath the brim of the white hat as big dark eyes crossed for the camera atop a smile that brightened the darkened corner where he stood. The column next to the photo proclaimed,
Carli Seacrest - This is my story!,
in bold, purple lettering.

“It was basic research.” Jen said, her voice wavering as she stood from the chair. “The oncology kids we treated in Denver all had support pages for family and friends to cheer them on. I knew Carli would have one, I just needed to find it.”

She motioned for him to have a seat. Zac eased into the armless chair, never taking his eyes off the screen. The little girl in the picture had his brown eyes, but the shape of her face was all Jennifer, up to and including the natural, silly facial gestures. The white hat stood in stark relief to her dark hair - poor thing, she even had the same unpredictable wave to her hair as he had.

Hi, I’m Carli. I’m 11 years old and I love riding horses.

The muscles in Zac’s throat constricted as he read her introduction. She liked to dance and loved every kind of animal. Her daddy was a lawyer and her mom stayed home with her and her two brothers.

“There are more pictures of her and the family if you go here.” Jen pointed at the top bar.

Without stopping to think, he clicked on the tab and a series of snapshots filled the screen. Carli looked tall and thin, dwarfed by whom he assumed were her brothers, as they stood in front of a rowboat at a lake. Zac scanned the photos and clicked on more screens, more pictures of a happy family doing family things except for the shots taken at the hospital. He swallowed as he followed the progression of the disease that had robbed this family of their contentment. In some photos, Carli had long, dark wavy hair that she wore in all manner of messy styles - just like Jen used to wear her hair. In the latest photos, Carli sported a ballcap, the brim falling low across her brows. Pain etched its mark at the corners of her eyes and mouth, but her dimpled cheek spoke volumes for the hope that lived in her heart.

“You can even leave a note for her in the guest book.”

Her words had barely left her lips before Zac pushed the button to darken the screen and stood from the chair. He didn’t know what he was expecting but recognizing the family resemblance in this stranger knocked him off kilter. Not only a family resemblance to him, but to him and Jennifer O’Reilly combined. An icy lump settled in his stomach. There was no doubt in his mind that Carli was his daughter, but his heart still had some accepting to do. And it wasn’t all revolving around the role of
this
girl in his life.

There wasn’t much time to think about it. Zac began pacing again, his fingers jammed into the pockets of his jeans.

“I’ll go in for the swab. If I’m a match, I’ll donate my bone marrow to help the gir-” He shook his head, the notion of having a daughter still too new to him. “To help Carli. As far as the medical end goes, that’s as far as I’ve gotten.”

“I appreciate —” she began to thank him until he abruptly stopped and faced her. Her round, blue eyes shone bright in the limited light. If he didn’t talk fast, Jen would start to cry and then all his resolve would wash away like the tears rolling down her cheeks. He had to cut bait and run, and leave no doubt in anyone’s mind over where he stood on her deceit.

“As far as you and I go…” his voice went flat as his eyes narrowed. “A partnership is built on trust and truth, the kind you can stake your life on. I always thought we had that, but time changes a lot of things. With that in mind, I can’t see any type of collaboration between us. If you successfully purchase the Trails’ End, I’ll surrender all interests I have in the ranch.”

Her eyes grew even larger. Though he felt like a heel, he had to choose self-preservation or lose everything he’d worked for over the past ten years. “If I get the ranch, I’ll expect the same courtesy.”

* * *

She’d always loved walking the corridors of the hospital. Within this building, professionals used their skills to diagnose, treat and heal.

And where her father’s patients were concerned, lots of prayer.

Jen punched the elevator call button and waited for the door to open. Never mind the elevator, she’d take the stairs. Spending the day meeting with specialists and reviewing files on all the new children coming to the camp on Saturday, meant a lot of sitting and waiting for the doctors to have a few moments to talk to her. As an oncology nurse, she recognized warning signs of the various infections that could flare, but not all of them. Before each camp session, she reviewed the charts and acquainted herself with the treatments. Be prepared wasn’t just the Boy Scout motto. Knowing the extent of the treatments the children had endured to get to the point where they could attend camp, Jen didn’t want anything to stand in the way of their fun.

Checking her watch, she picked up the pace heading toward the stairwell. Hours earlier, the morning sun had warmed her skin through her long sleeved t-shirt. If she acted fast, she might still get to enjoy part of the warm, fall day. She didn’t like too much down time, but this last session was out of the ordinary. She figured she’d better catch up on relax time before the next group arrived.

A voice at the end of the corridor made her slow and stop. Zac stood at the end of the lobby. It had been a week since they’d had their discussion and she’d been wondering if he’d made good on his promise. It wasn’t like she could casually ask anyone at the clinic if he’d been in for a DNA swab without raising a few brows. He’d stopped to talk to a doctor at the edge of the hallway. A chill replaced thoughts of warm skin and beautiful days. She didn’t have to wait for the man in the lab coat to turn to recognize him.