When It's Right (4 page)

Bud paled and stared at the pair, his eyes filled with disbelief.

Blake tried to think rationally, despite the blaze of shock racing through his veins, making his heart drop to his stomach. Could the boy be hers? She was only twenty. She'd have been a child herself when she had him. He wanted to ask her and didn't know how, or what to say. Bud saved him from having to speak the words.

“Is he yours?” Bud called out. She hadn't gotten the boy out of the truck yet.

Gillian looked over at her grandfather and wanted to throttle him. What kind of person did he think she was? She wasn't like her mother.

Keep your head. He doesn't know you. Give him the benefit of the doubt.

Still, she couldn't help her annoyance.

“He is now.” Let him chew on that for a minute.

She opened the truck door. Justin launched himself into her arms. She bit back an oath as pain shot through her whole body. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed the side of his head. His crying stopped when he landed in her arms. She hadn't meant for him to wake up alone.

“Justin, we're here. You remember what I told you.”

“Yes. I'll stay with you and do what you say.”

“I talked to him. He seems nice. I think we'll be okay here. If not, I promise I'll take you away. We'll find our own place. Okay?”

“Okay.” He pressed his face into her neck and held her tight. He believed her. She'd keep him safe. She always had. She always would.

 

Chapter 6

“I
s that a horse?” Justin asked, his voice timid and afraid.

Gillian turned to look at the poor creature standing by the fence. “It is a horse. He's not feeling well.”

“Did he do that to him?”

“He said he didn't.” She made her way over to the fence with Justin still in her arms, his legs wrapped around her waist. It was killing her to carry him, but she didn't set him down. Not yet. He needed the cuddles and love. He'd only ever gotten them from her. She wouldn't tell him or let him see how much she hurt. “He took this horse away from someone who was mean to him. He's trying to make him better. I think that's a very good sign.”

“Is he going to make you better?”

She hugged him tighter even though it cost her. Pain radiated up her back and down her leg, but she ignored it. She stood by the fence and looked at the sad animal, her own sadness mirrored in the horse's soulful brown eyes.

She didn't know how to answer Justin's question. She hoped that their grandfather would take them in and give them a roof over their heads and food to eat. Anything else was more than she could hope for or expect.

“He says he wants us to stay. We'll see.”

Blake and Bud
stood on the porch staring, completely dumbfounded by this new development. The screen door slammed, startling them.

“Well, what's taking you guys so long?” Dee looked out across the yard. “Who's that?”

Bud recovered enough to answer. “She says he's hers. I think she's still deciding if she's coming in.”

“Well it's no wonder she hasn't come up the steps with you two standing here like sentries guarding the gate. The poor girl wouldn't step within twenty feet of two huge men after what her father did to her. With your size and strength, she knows she couldn't defend herself against the two of you. Didn't you think to move out of her way?”

Blake swore under his breath. He'd wondered why she hadn't come up on the porch with them to talk. Sure enough, she'd kept what had felt to him like an awkwardly long distance between them, but comfortable and safe for her. In fact, she'd made sure to keep enough distance that she could get to the truck before they overtook her.

“That girl is about five-­foot-­nothing and weighs as much as a fairy. In her condition, she couldn't defend herself against a fly. The two of you standing up here towering over her must have looked like a lot of muscle to get through. She doesn't know you, and you stood up here like giants waiting to eat her up. Go over there and invite her in. Give her space, but get her in the door. She's got to be tired, hungry, and hurting. For God's sake, I swear you two don't use the brains God gave you.”

It was just the kick in the butt they needed. Dee had a way of getting them to do things, and it was usually her voice that rang with reason. Blake decided that if he was going to get Gillian to stay so that he could decipher the strange new pulse in his chest, he'd better go and introduce himself.

He'd tamed timid wild horses. Something about him calmed them. Maybe it would work with her.

Yeah, right.
Like she'd trust him if he coaxed her into the house with a soft tone and soothing words. He cocked his head and studied her.
Worth a try.

“Let me go get her,” he suggested. “I'll be the mediary, just like the doctor.”

Dee gave him a knowing smile, her eyes going soft on him. In all the time she'd known him, he'd never dated anyone special. Never more than a ­couple months before it fizzled out. He never brought a woman to the ranch. Lately, he spent all his time with his beloved horses. He got them. Women, not so much.

But he wanted to understand Gillian.

He crossed the yard and came to the fence about ten feet from her.
Give her space
.
Don't get too close,
or you'll spook her
. Just like he'd approach the horse standing several feet from the fence.

“Gillian.” At the sound of his voice, the boy clenched his arms tighter to her and buried his face in her neck. Blake hadn't even gotten a good look at him. “I'm Blake Bowden. I'm part owner, head trainer, and manager here at the ranch.”

Her wary eyes remained on him. She leaned back to take a step away, but stopped herself at the last second. If she felt she needed more space, he'd give it to her. For now.

He took a step back and waited.

“It's nice to meet you.” Her words came out soft and tentative. “This is Justin. He's not feeling well.” She rubbed her cheek on the top of Justin's head. She pressed her hand to the boy's forehead, checking for a fever. If the boy was sick, they should get him into the house.

“Dee has supper ready. Why don't you come inside for dinner?” He kept his voice soft and low. Her tense body, ready to flee, relaxed. Just a fraction, but he'd take it.

“I should get our things from the truck. Will we be staying there?” She tilted her head to indicate the building off to the right of the stables.

“That's the bunkhouse where some of the guys stay. You'll stay in the main house with your grandfather and Dee.”

“Who's Dee?”

“His wife. Dee has been married to your grandfather for about five, six years. She's nice. You'll like her. She keeps Bud and me in line. She's the best cook around, but don't tell my mom I said that.” He smiled, but it fell away when she swayed. “You want me to take him? He must be heavy, and you look worn out.”

“No!” Justin held on tighter.

Gillian took three steps back. “Stay away. I've got him.”

Blake held up his hand, letting her know he had no intention of touching her or the boy. “He's all yours. You go on up to the house. Get settled. I'll bring in your stuff.”

“I can get it.”

“I know you can. My mother raised me right. No way I let you carry the bags. I'll take care of your luggage, you take care of him.”

With a deep breath and a resigned look in her eyes, she admitted, “I'd appreciate the help. There's only my purse, a ­couple of boxes, and two bags. Um, and an envelope from the doctor. Medical records,” she explained, as if her appearance wasn't sufficient.

“I'll get them and meet you inside.”

“You'll probably beat me,” she said with a self-­deprecating tilt to her lips.

“Can you make it?” He didn't think she could, but he'd let her try. If she faltered again, he'd help her whether she liked it or not. He hated seeing anything hurt. The horses were the worst, but she broke his heart. Everything in him knew he'd see only pain if she took off those sunglasses. Tense, she held herself together with the last shreds of her energy. The longer this took, the paler she became, making the bruises on her face stand out even more vividly. What the hell was she hiding under that oversized coat? He didn't want to know, because whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

“I've made it this far.” She limped away toward the house, where her grandfather and Dee stood, but she remained sideways to keep Blake in view, too. No sneaking up on her. It'd be hard to get past her guard, but he aimed to try. And keep trying until she trusted him.

The sky that had seemed so vivid blue when she arrived faded to a soft, dusky lavender gray as the sun sank closer to the mountaintops. Soon it would be dark. She couldn't stand out here all day.

Sure enough, by the time Gillian reached the porch steps, Blake was right behind her. It annoyed and unsettled her. Having him close made her nervous. Not in the same way her father had made her nervous. She didn't think Blake would hurt her. Something about the way he anticipated her, gave her space, waited her out drew her in and made her anxious. She couldn't quite figure him out.

She looked up the steps at Dee and thought that if ever there was a woman who was a born mother, she was it. The essence of nurture was stamped all over her. Pleasantly plump, Dee's nice round cheeks were flushed from the cool wind blowing. Her hair was a soft caramel color, her eyes dark as chocolate. If she'd been wearing a shirtdress and apron and standing with a tray of cookies, she couldn't have looked more perfect. She held a dish towel in her hands, which made her look domestic, but the caring, kind look on her face drew Gillian in. It was nothing like the indifference she saw in her mother's eyes every day before she died.

“Hi. I'm Gillian. This is Justin.”

“Your son?” Dee asked, since Gillian had been vague enough with her grandfather that Dee needed to ask.

Both men avidly awaited her response.

“No. My brother.”

Her grandfather's whole face lit up. “I have a grandson.” He hugged Dee to his side. “I have two grandchildren.” His excitement and happiness were another good sign.

“My mother got pregnant with him when I was fourteen. The first time in my life I'd ever seen the woman somewhat sober, and basically clean. When Justin was about two weeks old, she gave him to me to watch while she and Dad went out partying. She overdosed that night and never came back. I've raised him since then. On my own.”

“Fourteen,” her grandfather said in disbelief.

“Yes. That's when I knew that if he ever raised a hand to Justin, I'd do anything and everything to protect him.”

She'd asked the doctor and police to leave Justin out of their reports. The social worker took some convincing, but once Gillian agreed to bring Justin here to live, she backed off. The nerves danced inside her, but she tamped them down. No way she let these ­people take Justin from her. If they even hinted at gaining custody of him, she'd bolt with him.

She stood staring at her grandfather. He'd truly had no idea about Justin. Now he knew. He knew it all. She'd done what she'd had to do to protect Justin. The guilt over killing her father gnawed at her, but the anger muddied up the shame, because she'd had to do it.

He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. In the end, he gave her words back to her. “The man needed killing.”

Stunned he felt that way, she nodded and figured they'd come to an understanding.

“Social ser­vices agreed to let me keep him because you offered us a place to stay. But if you think you can take him from me, you're wrong.”

“I would never take the boy from the only mother he's ever known. That's a promise.”

Gillian believed him. His eyes, his words held the truth without a hint of deception.

“Would you like to come inside now?” he asked.

“Yes,” Dee said. “Come inside. Get warm, and we'll have dinner.”

Justin heard that and sat back on Gillian's good arm. “I'm hungry,” he announced.

“Now why doesn't that surprise me?” she teased. His smile warmed her heart. “I have to put you down. I can't make it up the steps with you.”

“Am I hurting you?”

She brushed her nose to his to wipe away the sad face. “No, baby. You could never hurt me.”

“Is he going to hurt you?”

“No,” she said firmly.

“Cause if he does, you'll shoot him.”

That her brother thought that a reasonable solution thwacked her in the gut. Life with her vile father had reduced them to this. Her six-­year-­old brother thought it okay to kill someone if they hurt you. Well, hadn't she taught him that lesson? Wouldn't she do the same thing if her grandfather harmed him? What kind of person did that make her? She didn't know, but keeping Justin safe would always be her first and last priority.

“That's right.” She gave her grandfather a hard look to let him know she meant it.

“Justin, I promise you. You're safe here. No one is going to hurt you or your sister. If they do, they'll answer to me,” her grandfather promised.

She appreciated her grandfather's attempt to reassure him, but he still had to prove it.

“Me, too,” Blake said from behind them. “There are a lot of men who work on this ranch. They all work for your grandfather and me. If someone does or says something to either of you, we'll take care of it immediately. Is that going to be a problem for you, Gillian? The men on the ranch?”

She didn't know how to answer that question. She assumed the men who worked on a ranch were probably some rough and rowdy guys. She didn't know how she'd react if one of them got too close. She didn't like ­people too close. Since she didn't know how to answer him, she shrugged, then wished she hadn't moved at all. Pain shot through her, and she almost lost her grip on Justin. She set him on his feet and used her hands on her legs to push herself back up to standing. Everyone around her took a few steps closer, wanting to help. She held up her hand to ward them off and stood slowly.

“I'm fine. Let's go in. Justin's been fighting a bug. He shouldn't be out in the cold. He's running a fever. I don't want him to get worse.”

Dee and her grandfather walked into the house and left the door open for them to follow. Justin stood at the top of the steps, waiting for her to hobble her way up the five stairs. Blake stood behind her. She was doing the best she could and resented his sticking close to make sure she didn't stumble on the stairs. Then again, she hated that she might falter in her condition. She couldn't win. Story of her life.

When she reached the top step, Justin wrapped his arm around her thigh and clung to her as they walked into the house. Man, if she thought the outside was nice, the inside was twice as good. She stepped into a wide room with a fireplace to the left. A huge blaze warmed the room. The smooth stones made the room look and feel homey. Muted cream walls complemented the dark, chunky wood mantel. A soft sage carpet covered the hardwood floor. The brown leather sofa looked comfortable, as did the matching chairs. A television dominated the corner. Justin would appreciate having one to watch. It wasn't something he'd had often enough for his liking.