The Rancher's Wager Read online

  “He’s not your father.”

  “That’s what he said.”

  Her mom looked...embarrassed. “Was he...”

  “He wasn’t mad. I mean, not much. Jackson was kind of mad, but... I don’t know. I was just embarrassed. But I really thought... There’s something wrong with me? I think? Because I’m not like anyone in this family, and I just thought that maybe I would fit better with the Coopers. And I thought that after I found out that you were in love with him...”

  “I was always in love with him. I always will be. I gave things up, Cricket. For a life that I thought would make me happy. But I was very foolish. I was very wrong. And it has taken me all this time to be able to admit it. All this time to be able to understand. Just how... Just how wrong I was. I thought this house could take the place of love. I thought money could do it. And then I thought social standing, because Cash managed to go and make all that money, just to show me what I was missing. I won’t tell you I wasn’t tempted by him. I won’t tell you we never were. There were times... We had opportunity, and it was hard. Because I remembered what it was like with him. And it wasn’t... I shouldn’t tell you all of this. You don’t want to know about my love affairs, I’m sure.”

  Cricket didn’t really, it was true. But she could be a whole lot more understanding about them now that she’d experienced a bit of it herself. Would it be like that with Jackson? Forever and ever? Staring at him from across crowded rooms and knowing how it was? If he married someone else... Would she still always remember what it was like to have his hands on her body? What if she married another man?

  Frankly, she couldn’t imagine it. She didn’t really have dreams of being a wife and mother. She had always had dreams about him.

  “But you didn’t. That’s the important part.”

  “No.”

  “And did you... With anyone else?”

  “No.”

  “So James Maxfield is my father.” It wasn’t a question, but a heavy confirmation.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.” Cricket turned, her chest feeling weighted with answers. The fact was, she hadn’t wanted to ask her mother before because she had been afraid that this was the answer. And it turned out...it was. There was nothing half so romantic as a hidden family out there waiting for her. Nothing half so wonderful as an explanation for why she was the way she was.

  She just was.

  And she was going to have to find a way to cope with that, to understand herself.

  To be okay with that.

  “He said that...” She took a breath. “Cash said that I looked like you.” She turned around again to face her mother, looked at her smooth, unlined skin, her sleek blond hair. “I don’t see how. He said I reminded him of you.”

  Her mother’s expression became soft. Wistful. “Because back then I did. You’re probably the most like me, Cricket, of any of the girls. I was wild, and I was headstrong, and I couldn’t be told a damn thing. I made a sport out of daring him. Of pushing him. I felt like I was meant for bigger and better things than I could get in Gold Valley. Bigger and better things than he could give me. And I would yell that at him. I would tell him that if he really wanted me, if he really loved me, then he would figure out a way to give me the kinds of things I wanted. Because you see... I really believed that the man who would make me happy would come with all the things I wanted, and I didn’t think about the kinds of things I would give to him. And that was how I ended up in a one-sided marriage where I didn’t ask any questions, and I just took everything that came my way. I didn’t have dreams of my own. Not beyond what I could have. And when I realized that I was stuck with a man who didn’t love me, with a man who wasn’t faithful to me... I had you girls. And I wouldn’t do anything that might jeopardize my having you. And he used the three of you to threaten me.” She closed her eyes. “I’ll be completely honest, half the time the only thing that kept me away from Cash Cooper was knowing that if your father found out he would do his best to make sure I never saw you again.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” Cricket said. “And I’m sorry I never realized how unhappy you were here.”

  “Yes, well. I’m the one who made this place.” She looked around. “It was my prison. And I built it for myself, and locked myself inside. And you right with me. I never felt like I had a right to offer you any comfort.”

  Cricket didn’t know what to say. Except... She remembered what Jackson had asked her, that first day he had come to her house. “Can I ask... Why did you name me Cricket?”

  Her mom smiled. “Because it reminded me of who I used to be. A hot summer night sitting outside and listening to the crickets. Of simpler things and simpler times. And by then I knew... I knew I wasn’t ever going to find happiness here. The only happiness I had was you girls, and I didn’t... I was distant, because I let my guilt and my fears determine how we connected. I’m sorry for that. I really am. The divorce—this has been like a slow waking up. I’m not liking everything that I’m seeing around me. My own flaws. My own...failings in all of this.”

  “James Maxfield is kind of an evil bastard.”

  “Well, there was a time when I was suited to him. And that doesn’t fill me with any great joy.”

  “I don’t understand how you could... I don’t want to pile anything on, Mom, and for the most part, I just think... We were all victims of his. But one thing I don’t understand is how you could marry him knowing that you loved Cash.”

  “Cash didn’t come after me. He let me marry him. And up until the wedding I imagined him riding up on a white horse and taking me away from it all. I really did. I thought he would rescue me. And he didn’t. Instead he found someone else, and they had children right away. Much faster than your father and I did. And I threw myself into loving the money. If Cash hadn’t gotten married, I don’t think my marriage to your father would’ve lasted. But my other option was gone.”

  “Have you ever thought that...now it might not be?”

  She smiled sadly. “He’s a proud man. I don’t think he would have me. I can’t say that I blame him.”

  “I don’t think you can know that. Unless you try. And don’t you think we all deserve a chance at being happy? Whatever that looks like?”

  “I know that you do. I think for me it might be too late.”

  Cricket left her mom’s house with a lot to think about. And she wasn’t sure that she liked any of it. It sounded to her like her mother’s relationship with Cash had been more than a little dysfunctional. And she couldn’t deny that her mom had a decent sized stake in the way things had gone. But she also didn’t see the point in the two of them continuing to be sad forever. They both clearly had feelings for each other that they hadn’t resolved. But one thing Cricket couldn’t imagine was...

  She could never marry another man.

  The conversation with her mom had solidified that thought. Not after Jackson. She couldn’t have another man’s children. Chances were, she would grow old with her ranch. But at least she would have her own dreams.

  When she pulled up to the house, he was on the porch, hammering boards in place. Each swing of his hammer was hard and decisive, every muscle and tendon in his body working harmoniously toward its goal. He was a thing of beauty. And the porch was... It was practically brand-new. In the few hours since she’d left, he had transformed the place. It was no longer sinking, no longer looking dilapidated. It was incredible. And it was all him.

  He was incredible.

  Her heart lifted in her chest, and she felt... She didn’t really know. Renewed in some ways. Her mother’s story was tragic, but it was also a reminder that there was no circumstance Cricket could simply sit back and accept.

  She was James Maxfield’s daughter. That hadn’t been her choice. But everything she did with her life...that was her choice. James didn’t own her. Didn’t have a claim on her. She was Cricket. Named aft
er the simple summer nights her mother loved and remembered. After a time in her life that had been special to her. After memories that had mattered. And Cricket was made of those things as much as she was her father’s DNA.

  It made her feel rooted, grounded to this place, and certain of her decisions. Much more so than she had ever been before.

  “Horses,” she said as soon as she got out of the truck.

  “Excuse me?” Jackson looked up, his gaze meeting hers, sending her stomach into a freefall.

  “Horses,” she reiterated. “I want to breed horses. That’s what this ranch is going to be. I’ve decided. I want to start right away.”

  “We’re going to have to build stables.”

  “Then let’s work out a budget. And I can find a contractor. I know it might take some time, but I’m willing. Because my life is going to be what I want it to be. It doesn’t matter what my DNA is. I talked to my mother today. James is my father. For sure and for certain. But that’s not even really the biggest thing. My mom lived a life that she didn’t love for years because she felt trapped in it. Because she felt like she didn’t have a choice. I never want to feel like I don’t have a choice. I’m not one determined thing because I’m James’s daughter, and not Cash’s. I’m not anything but what I decide to be.”

  “Good for you.”

  She pointed her index finger at him. “But you can’t have my ranch.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “And you still have to finish out the terms of the bet. I’m not going to have you back out early, just because you can’t do your whole secret...thing. I have nothing but your own honor as a man to hold you to it.”

  “You got me.”

  “And I want to keep sleeping with you,” she said, suddenly resolute in that decision too. “Until this is over.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure. I’m building my life. And this is who I am. I don’t sit back having crushes on men and not saying anything. I don’t just dream about having a ranch. I’m going to have all those things.”

  “And then at the end of the thirty days?”

  That made her chest feel sore. But she was resolute either way.

  “You go your way. I’ll go mine.”

  And she wasn’t going to worry about all the things he could and couldn’t give her. She was going to focus on what she could do. Who she could be. What she could give to herself.

  Because she would never be her mother. A passive participant in her own life.

  No.

  She was the one who decided.

  Nobody else. She would have a ranch, and a man. And sure, it would be temporary. But it would be hers. The start of something.

  And she was so very ready for her life to begin.

  Eight

  The crew had started work on Cricket’s stables. It was weird, now that his focus had shifted. He actually wanted her enterprise to be a success. And that meant looking at things from an entirely different point of view. That meant teaching her about ranching, rather than just making overarching statements and watching her stumble around. It meant bringing her alongside him for repairs, not just to show her how hard it was, but to show her that she could. And with each improvement on the property, he saw her become more firmly rooted in her sense of who she was, and there was a great sense of accomplishment inside of him that he couldn’t quite explain. Except that... Except that he’d felt useless to fix the sadness that he saw inside of his mother, and being able to do something to give Cricket a better life did something to help heal that sense of failure.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he always thought that if his mother had gotten better, maybe he would have helped her leave his father. Given her a place to stay, proved to her that it didn’t matter whether they were together like a traditional family. What really mattered was her happiness. She didn’t need to stay. Not for him. But he’d never said it to her. She’d died before he ever could. Before he’d gotten his own place up and running. And maybe part of him had still been working toward that with wanting to expand to Cricket’s property. But he didn’t need to do that now. What he could do was help Cricket find her way to a dream.

  And then maybe that would help put something to rights in his own life. Cricket wasn’t out with him today, she was off bustling around the house. He told her he would check in on the building site, and then he was going to drive up to the upper pasture, and get the lay of things. It really was a beautiful property.

  He thought back to what she’d asked, if ranching was in his blood, as he stood out in the middle of the bright, patchwork field, filled with brilliant green mixed with patches of dark olive and backed by rich pine. As he looked at the sprigs of yellow that clustered around the perimeter interwoven with waving fire-colored Indian paintbrush and dappled orange fritillaria, at the pale blue sky that would be a richer blue come the height of summer, he knew the answer was... It was deeper than blood. It was down in his bones. He was part of the land, and it was part of him. Something that went further than want.

  And he’d never thought about it that way before. Only when Cricket had asked, did that thought grow into a feeling.

  And he understood. He understood why she wanted this. Why she was here. It was true. When it was part of you, it simply was. Nothing you could do about it.

  He heard the sound of a truck engine and turned, and there was Cricket, rumbling up the dirt road, driving that big beast of hers.

  That was another thing that was getting down into his blood. Because he hadn’t just been helping her on the property.

  No.

  They’d spent long nights in beds that were too small, exploring, tasting, and he loved to say that he was teaching her there as much as he was around the ranch, but it was more than that. Because Cricket was a whole new landscape, one he’d never seen or explored or imagined before. She was strong, and she was energetic.

  She had no limit as far as he could tell. Nothing embarrassed her.

  Rather, she touched and tasted with full enthusiasm, never shying away from anything. That wild girl he’d seen out on the swing at the Maxfield Vineyards brought that sense of the unrestrained into the bedroom, and there were no lessons involved in any of it. No. He was just on the ride. At the mercy of it. And he loved every minute.

  He gritted his teeth. There was no getting attached to it.

  Why not?

  He pushed that thought aside. Cricket got out of the truck, wearing a white tank top and tight jeans, holding a blanket and a picnic basket. And she looked like far too much of a temptation for him to handle.

  And hell, she wasn’t a temptation he had to resist over the last couple of weeks, so why should he start now? He crossed the distance between them, and wrapped his arms around her slender waist, pulled her into his arms and planted a kiss on her lips.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I brought lunch,” she said, a pleased smile curving her lips. “I’ve been practicing being a good pioneer woman. I made bread, I cooked a ham and I’ve made sandwiches.”

  “You really made bread?”

  “Yes,” she said, her face shining with triumph. “And two of the four loaves turned out. So, you have sandwiches.”

  “Cricket, that was awfully nice of you.”

  “I know,” she said. “And often I’m not very nice, so it surprised me too.”

  “You’re plenty nice.”

  Or at least, her particular brand of sharpness was nice for him. Didn’t really matter either way.

  She spread the blanket out in the meadow and took a seat, and he stared at her, the golden glow of the sun shining on her face. And he couldn’t figure out quite why she’d done it. Quite why she’d given him this. He couldn’t recall anyone else doing similar for him. Sure, his mom cooked for them. But... She was his mom. Family.

  Cricket wasn’t family
.

  She wasn’t beholden to him in any way. He’d lost a bet to her. That was why he was here. And his education hadn’t included cooking. She had just done this. Just because.

  And it did something to his chest that made him want to growl, because he wasn’t a sentimental man. And he didn’t concern himself much with things like this. But it was...unexpected, and it was a hell of a lot more than he’d ever wanted or gotten from another person.

  It shocked him how good everything she made was. Though he supposed it probably shouldn’t surprise him. Everything Cricket set her mind to she did with her whole self. And it didn’t mean she couldn’t fail, but she was determined enough that he had a feeling she would have baked ten loaves of bread in order to present him with just one. Because what she wanted, she went and got. And that was something. It was really something.

  He liked to watch Cricket eat, among the many things he enjoyed about her. Because she did that with the same level of ferocity and intensity she did everything else. She was sitting on the blanket with her elbows propped up on her knees, her sandwich gripped tightly in her hands. She had brought cans of Coke for the two of them, and when she had eaten about half of her sandwich, she brushed her hands off and picked up the Coke, tipping it back like a beer.

  She looked over at him. “What?”

  “What?” he repeated.

  “You’re staring at me.”

  “You’re pretty.” That made him sound like a dumb high school boy. Come to that, he kind of felt like one.

  But Cricket blushed. Cricket, tough little thing that she was, blushed, and he found that was all the payment he needed for the worse moment of feeling like an idiot. Something he wasn’t accustomed to.

  “Well,” Cricket said. “So are you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I mean, I’ve always thought so.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “You mentioned something about that.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Because already he felt some kind of strange obligation to her. Deeper than his obligation to any other woman he’d ever had a physical relationship with. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to dig in any deeper, but sitting there under that brilliant blue sky, eating her homemade bread and ham sandwich, he didn’t know if there was any other option but to dig in. He didn’t know how not to be involved with her, and it was absurd. It had started with a bet, an assumption on her part that they might be related, a nefarious plan on his part to talk her into selling him her ranch...