couldn’t catch her breath. It was a stunning revelation for the man who’d vowed to never even visit his father or speak to him again. “Jack, that’s…wonderful.”
His face was impassive. “Glad you think so.”
It was clear he wanted to move on, but Cricket wanted to keep him right where he was. “When’s the surgery?”
“Don’t know. I need to talk to the doctor about the details. Pop says he doesn’t want my kidney, but Pop doesn’t always get what he wants. I can wait him out on this one.”
Her eyes went wide. “No one told me.”
“Maybe we don’t need prayer, Deacon,” Jack said.
“I’ll be praying anyway, cowboy,” she shot back.
They stared at one another silently, each making their own private assessment. A hundred thoughts ran through Cricket’s mind. Why was he doing this? Forgiveness. Redemption. What Jack would never admit about himself—he loved his father, and his family mattered to him.
“You’re a good man, Jack,” she murmured.
“Don’t kid yourself, Deacon.” And with that, he walked away.
She watched him go. If he was aware that she had a crush on him, he ignored it steadfastly. She doubted he thought much about her at all. What did he know about her, other than that she was friends with Suzy, Priscilla and Laura, women who had married his brothers. There would never be anything between them. Like roping wind, she didn’t have a chance of capturing Jack Morgan.
But she still felt an undeniable pull toward him, feelings that defied her normally practical heart.
This would take some thought. Josiah hadn’t bothered to match make for this son because he was unmatchable. Gabe had been fixed up with Laura Adams, who had a young son and daughter. Gabe had fallen like a tree. Dane had been determined not to repeat Gabe’s surrender to his father’s wishes, but Suzy Winterstone had been moved into the Morgan ranch as a housekeeper, bringing with her little twin girls. Spellbound, Dane had followed his brother to the altar. Pete had wanted to give up the military for a life closer to home but never planned to marry, and certainly not the woman he called Miss Manners, Priscilla Perkins. His father had found quadruplet orphans who needed parents and persuaded Priscilla and Pete to marry. Josiah had nearly completed his family tree, and now Jack was willing to extend the old man’s life, giving him the time he needed.
Jack had better watch out. Josiah lived to build his family, and while Jack might give up a kidney, he also might find himself giving up his freedom. Cricket frowned. She knew Josiah too well. As soon as he could draw a healthy breath—and maybe even before—the man would start hunting a bride for Jack. Oh, Josiah would be very sneaky, very underhanded, but before he knew it, Jack would be roped and tied to the Morgan ranch, no matter how much he thought it couldn’t happen to him.
The problem as Cricket saw it was that Josiah had always chosen women with children for his sons, and Cricket had none. Nor could she simply seduce Jack into her bed and catch him that way. Not that she would, though the seduction part was worth investigating because she had a feeling it would be a heavenly experience. As a deacon, she’d look mighty fallen to her congregation if she came up pregnant and unmarried.
Cricket mulled over her other options. There were none, as far as she could see. Walking into Josiah’s hospital room, she found him surrounded by cute, young nurses. Josiah appeared pleased to have this beautiful companionship. It was public knowledge that the wealthy man had one son who was still single, and there were certainly plenty of willing bridal candidates making themselves known to Josiah. She had to make certain he didn’t get that baby-making glow in his eyes for Jack. “Hello, Josiah,” she said, bending down to give him a kiss on the forehead.
The nurses left the room one by one. Josiah grinned at Cricket. “What did you bring me?” he demanded.
“Cookies,” she said.
“Good girl.”
“I saw Jack as I was coming in.”
Josiah nodded, pleased. “I always knew he’d come around.”
The fact was, no one had ever thought Jack would come around—there wasn’t a gambler in the county who would have taken a wager on it. Cricket smiled. “Did you?”
“No.” Josiah smiled. “Just felt like bragging for a minute.”
“You’re entitled,” Cricket said. “So I hear you might get a new kidney.”
“That’s what he says,” Josiah said. “But I have no intention of taking his kidney.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’ll still ride rodeo.” Josiah eased himself up on his pillow. “He just wants to make me crazy. It’s his favorite thing to do, payback for the years he thinks I was a bad parent.”
She looked at the elderly gentleman. “The story I heard was that rodeo was in Jack’s blood. Nothing anyone can do about that.”
“True,” Josiah said. “but he can’t ride with one kidney.”
“But you know he would and that would make you crazy.”
“Right.” Josiah nodded. “I don’t mind heading off into the wild blue yonder, but I do mind sitting around worrying like a durn fool about my durn stubborn son.”
“You have a lot to live for.”
“Oh, hell. You’re a religious person, Cricket. You’re supposed to spout that kind of nonsense. A man lives to do. ”
“So?” Cricket demanded. “What’s your point?”
“My point is that I’m not taking Jack’s kidney just so I can spend a few more years on this earth!” Josiah bellowed. “What good would it do me if he got bucked off and stomped? Do you know how often cowboys get stomped?”
“Perhaps some protective gear—”
“Bah!” Josiah tossed off his covers impatiently. “Have them turn down the heat in here, Cricket. It’s nearly April. Why do they have the heat so high? I’m not some sissy old man who can’t make my own body heat! By heaven, I’m not a corpse yet.”
She smiled. “It is a bit warm in here.”
“Hey, Deacon,” Josiah said. “Sneak me out of this joint.”
Her eyes went wide. “I can’t do that. Why didn’t you ask Jack to? He’s the rebel, isn’t he?”
“Oh, he wouldn’t do it. He’s Mr. Giving-My-Kidney-to-Make-Pop-Feel-Guilty.” Josiah sniffed, obviously upset.
“Josiah,” Cricket said, “we’d all like to see you gracing the earth awhile longer.”
“Oh?” His brows beetled, white and thick on his strong forehead. “Who are we? ”
“Me, for one.”
“Well, that’s one.”
