style="font-size:15px;"> “You didn’t have to break my boy’s arm.”
“I didn’t. I admit that I punched Keith after he took a swing at me. But then it turned into a big free-for-all. Someone hit him on the head with a beer bottle. When he fell, he broke his arm. Keith is okay. He’s getting a lot of sympathy and still managing to paw the ladies at the Last Chance, even with one arm in a cast.”
Harvey pushed Jake out of his way.
“You’re nothing but a has-been!” Harvey yelled. “You’re a drunk, Jake Dixon, and you hurt my boy.” Not taking his eyes off Jake, he backed up to the automatic doors of the airport and went inside.
It was then that Jake noticed Beth and Kevin outside. They both stared at him. Beth’s face was ghostly white, her lips pinched. Kevin was motionless in his chair, so unlike the animated, excited boy who’d got off the plane.
“Sorry you had to hear that,” Jake said, feeling lower than the stuff he scraped off his boots. He didn’t know exactly what they’d heard, except for Harvey’s parting slam.
“Maybe we should take a taxi to the ranch.” Beth’s words faded into the air, then she stood tall and raised her chin. “I’m sorry if this offends you, Mr. Dixon, but I have to ask. Have you been drinking? Kevin and I will not be riding with anyone who has been drinking.”
“I haven’t been drinking,” Jake said softly, meeting her eyes.
“Mom, he’s Jake Dixon. Jake Dixon! He doesn’t do stuff like that.”
The adoration was back in the kid’s eyes, but Jake sure as hell didn’t feel like a hero.
“My truck’s right there.” He nodded in the direction of his black half-ton pickup. “It’s a good hour-and-a-half ride to the Gold Buckle over some pretty rough roads. The taxis won’t make the trip out there.” He still saw the disbelief in her eyes. “Ma’am, I haven’t been drinking.”
She touched Kevin’s hair protectively. “I made a mistake once before.” After a long, hard, evaluating look into Jake’s eyes, she said, “All right, Mr. Dixon. All right. I’m going to believe you—unless I find out otherwise.”
“Please call me Jake.”
“I’d rather not.”
Chapter Two
W hat am I doing? Beth thought as she looked out the truck window at the tall green grass. Cattle dotted the pastures, and mountains loomed in the distance just like they did around Lizard Rock, Arizona.
With one elbow stuck out the window and the other hand draped casually over the wheel, Jake drove down what seemed like an endless highway, patiently answering Kevin’s infinite number of questions.
She stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. He had a strong jaw and a trace of beard that made him look a little like an outlaw. Long, strong legs were packed into tight, worn jeans, and he wore a crisp, white long-sleeved shirt with the top three buttons undone. He wore a gold buckle, almost as big as a saucer, on his belt.
He looked just like the posters and pictures that were hanging from every free space in Kevin’s tiny room. Because she’d read every article about him for the past several years, she felt like she knew him, inside and out.
She had always thought he was handsome, but she hadn’t been prepared for how masculine and virile he was in person. She had never realized that his blue eyes glittered like the turquoise sky above, or that his low, rich voice would make every bone in her body vibrate.
From the top of his hat to the slightly curled tip of his dusty boots, Jake Dixon looked every bit the cowboy that he was.
She remembered how he had picked Kevin up from his wheelchair and gently placed him in the front seat of his pickup—and Kevin was no lightweight by any means. She had heard him catch his breath after he straightened his back, and she had seen him grimace. He also had a noticeable limp. Bull riding was taking a heavy toll on him.
No doubt his drinking didn’t help matters, either. That was something that wasn’t mentioned in the magazines.
Her hands tightened into fists. She had heard all that she’d wanted to hear outside the airport. “You’re a drunk, and you hurt my son.”
Those same words had been running through her mind when she stood at Brad’s grave and while Kevin endured one operation after another.
She wrapped an arm around her son’s shoulder and pulled him closer to her. She hadn’t protected him from his own father, but she would protect him from Jake Dixon.
Her heart sank as she thought about the Wheelchair Rodeo program and how it was to start in two days. The literature she had received indicated that Jake had started the program, and he saw to everything personally.
How was she going to trust him with Kevin?
“Okay, Mom?” Kevin asked, breaking through her reverie.
“Hmm? What?” she asked.
“Jake said that he’d show me around the ranch when we get there. And that I can pick out my own horse from the remuda. Hear that, Mom? The remuda. And I get to take care of my horse all week!”
“That’s great,” she mumbled without enthusiasm. How was she going to tell her son that she didn’t want him near his hero?
“Okay, Mom?”
She needed time to think. She wanted to know more about the real Jake Dixon. She wanted to observe him. She didn’t want to hand her son over to him and trust him, the way she had trusted Brad. Not with what she had just heard about him.
Jake must have seen her hesitation.
“I’ll take good care of Kevin. And you’re welcome to come along. Right, Kev?”
Her stomach clenched. No one ever called him Kev, except Brad.
“Yeah, c’mon, Mom. Come with us.”
She could never say no to Kevin when he looked at her with those big brown eyes. And she didn’t want to throw a wet blanket on his excitement. Maybe it was unfair of her to compare Jake to Brad.
“Sure. I’d love to,” she reluctantly agreed.
“Yippee!” Kevin shouted.
The two of them went back to talking about who rode what bull for a ninety-point ride, and who was on the injured list. From the look on Jake’s rugged face, Kevin’s knowledge about the sport surprised him. If only Kevin were that good in English and math.
She laid her head back on the seat of the big truck and listened to their conversation. Kevin was bubbly and happy, and Jake was adding to his excitement, so much so that it was almost contagious.
“There it is! The Gold Buckle Ranch!” Kevin shouted. “It’s a real ranch!”
A slender, pretty woman in jeans and a navy-blue sweatshirt stood waving on the front porch of a log ranch house. Beside her was a tall, handsome man
