into a Lyft?
But then he looked straight ahead.
And there she was across the street, huddled in the doorway alcove of the Elks building, her arms wrapped around herself, her delicate shoulders hunched. She seemed to be studying the pretty white sandals on her narrow feet.
He waited for a delivery van to go by and then jogged across the street, slowing his steps when he reached the sidewalk in order not to startle her.
She must have sensed him coming. Her shining chin-length curls bounced as her head came up. He stopped six feet from her, close enough to talk, but not so close he crowded her.
“What do you want?” Her eyes were enormous, dark as black coffee, brimming with hurt and confusion.
If she’s acting, she ought to be in movies—just like the other one, Madison Delaney. “Come back inside with me. Hear the rest.”
A wild shudder went through her. “Oh, God. There’s more?”
“Just the details. You need to hear them. We both do.”
“No.” She shook her head, setting the curls bouncing again. “No, I don’t think I need that. I don’t think I can.”
A redhead approached pushing a stroller. Her freckle-faced little boy waved at Jax as he rolled by.
Jax stole a step closer to the woman in the alcove. “You don’t have to decide anything today.”
She scrunched her eyes shut and swiped her inky hair back from her forehead. “I mean it, Jax. I really don’t think I can.”
“Can, what?”
“Go back in there. I mean, is this really happening? I’m not me. And crazy old Martin Durand is my biological father?”
“I hear you.” Another step. She didn’t bolt. “It’s completely insane.”
She pinned him with a shining, furious look. “I hate him. You must hate him about now, too, huh?”
He answered her truthfully. “No. I loved him. I miss him.”
She made a tight, angry sound. “You still love him? After what you just heard in there?”
“Hey. I didn’t say he was an easy man to love. But he made every day an adventure. And he was always good to me in his way.”
She scoffed outright. “Oh, please. I saw how he was that summer I worked for you. He let you do all the work while he sat on the front porch in his ratty old bathrobe.”
“I like doing the work. And Martin used to work hard, too, back when I was growing up.” He watched her closely as he spoke. Did his voice seem to soothe her? Maybe. And at this point, he would try anything to keep her from taking off again. He went on talking. “When I was a boy, we worked together, Martin and me. Aunt Claudia was sick a lot. Martin taught me everything I know about ranching and horses. And then he sent me to college, though I didn’t want to go. He said I needed to get out and see what the world had to offer, said I had to be certain that Wild River was my choice, not just the only thing I knew. He also got it right about Judy—my ex-wife?”
She looked at him, wide-eyed. “What about her?”
“Martin said Judy would never be happy at Wild River, no matter that she promised me she would love ranch life. Judy didn’t love it and she kept after me to move with her to the Bay Area, where her family lived. Eventually, she divorced me and went back to San Francisco.”
And whoa. Talk about too much information—bringing up Judy, babbling out private stuff that no one needed to hear. Soothing this woman was one thing, but the verbal diarrhea needed to stop.
Aislinn, still huddled in the corner by the door, was watching him. And now that he really looked at her, he could see Martin in her—in the soft, full shape of her mouth, the elegant line of her nose.
He held out his hand. “Come back in, won’t you?”
She looked at his outstretched fingers, considering. But she didn’t take them. “I’m sorry,” she said, as he gave up and dropped his arm back to his side. “I can’t do it—can’t go back in there. Can’t do...any of it.”
Oh, yeah, she could. She had to do it. Impatience coiled like a snake inside him. But he refused to give in to it. Impatience wasn’t going to help him get through to her. “What’d I say a minute ago? You don’t have to decide right now.”
Those doe eyes stayed locked with his. “I’m scaring you. I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not scaring me,” he lied.
“Yes, I am. And I get it. You’d do anything, even marry a stranger, to keep the ranch you love.”
Damn straight, he thought but somehow managed not to blurt out. “Look. It’s three months. You live nearby, right?”
“In Valentine Bay.”
“A half-hour drive from Wild River. Just think about it. We get married. You live at the ranch, which isn’t that far from your job or whatever. Three months. And you’re fifty thousand dollars richer.”
She looked about to break down in tears. “It’s too much. I told you, I can’t—”
“Wait.” He put up both hands. “You’re right. Don’t decide now. Just come back inside. That’s all I’m asking.”
She drew herself up and said stiffly, “There’s something I have to say to you.”
“Go for it.”
“No matter what that crazy old fool thought, I am not in love with you.”
She wanted him to say he believed her? Not a problem. Whatever she wanted, he would damn well provide it. “I get that. I believe that. You’re not in love with me and you never have been.”
She frowned, as though judging his answer, turning his words over in her mind, weighing his sincerity. In the end, she nodded. “Good, then. I’m glad we have that cleared up, at least.”
A heavily inked couple in matching short-sleeved plaid shirts, bib overalls and Birkenstocks came toward him. He fell back toward the curb a little and nodded as they passed between him and the woman in the doorway.
When he stepped closer to Aislinn again, she was fiddling with the shoulder strap of her purse, all frustrated energy. And then she froze. Her soft mouth trembled. “I’m just having a little trouble processing, you know? I mean, if what that letter said is true, I’m not a Bravo. My sisters and brothers are not actually mine. At this moment, I have to tell you, I don’t even know who I am. And there’s a movie star living in Southern California who doesn’t know she’s got a whole family of amazing people she’s never even met. It’s all wrong. It can’t be true. I can’t even deal.”
“You’re getting way ahead of yourself.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because
