eat.”
“I’m not hungry, thank you.”
That was too bad. He’d been hoping she’d be eager to show off some of her culinary skills. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”
“Let’s not make this personal,” Cricket said, making herself at home at the kitchen table while Jack checked out the contents of the fridge.
“Not me,” Jack said. “I’m Mr. Impersonal.”
“Wonder where he is, anyway?”
“You’d know better than me.” There was fresh turkey and cheese in the meat drawer, and Jack felt the evening was improving already.
“There’s a guesthouse on the ranch, right? A few barns?”
“I’ve searched everywhere.” Jack closed the door, leaving the food behind, suddenly lacking an appetite. He felt a confession coming on, and those were never very good for his gut.
Cricket watched him. “What are you doing?”
Jack took a deep breath, slid into the seat opposite Cricket’s. “See, here’s the deal. The old man was rough on us, me in particular. He wasn’t the kind of father who’d play ball with you, he wasn’t around much, he wore us out with his criticism. If I had a penny for every mean thing he said to me, I’d be a wealthy man, I promise. Me, more than any of my brothers, never measured up. And he hated what I loved most, which probably just made me love rodeo more. I didn’t have to be good enough for Pop when I was riding—it was just me and the bull and hanging on for the sake of winning.”
“So what happened?”
“He blamed me for a car accident my kid brothers had when they sneaked out to see me ride one night.” He looked at Cricket, the old, painful memories rushing over him. “The thing that ticked me off the most was that I was crazy about my brothers. We felt like all we had was each other, and I basically got to be the father, in a way. I loved them. I would never have hurt them. I had no idea they were sneaking out to watch me that night.” Still, the painful accusations cut. Remembering the beating his old man tried to give him hurt, too, but even more painful was the fact that he’d fought back. The two of them had gone at each other like prize-fighters, and Jack wasn’t proud of it. “I suppose in the end I let him beat me,” Jack said, “but I took skin from him before he did.”
“I am so sorry,” Cricket said, reaching across the table to pat his hands, which he noticed were splayed in front of him as if he needed the comfort. He moved his hands to his knees under the table, not wanting to appear as if he needed sympathy.
“I don’t even know why I’m here,” he murmured. But he did know, he knew he still loved his brothers, and Pop wanted those grandchildren, and if all it cost to make everybody happy—buy forgiveness—was a kidney, then that was cheap.
“Maybe you are a good man,” Cricket said. “Maybe you really want to do the right thing.”
He looked at her, then slowly shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He would never be good enough to live in her world. Repairing the cracks of his relationship with his family would take more than anything he had in his soul. Thunder and lightning cracked and boomed over the house, snapping the lights off. The refrigerator stopped humming. He thought he heard one of the many pecan trees that bordered the property give a tired groan, a warning that much more wind would drive it to split. “The lights’ll come back on,” Jack said to soothe Cricket.
“I’m not afraid of the dark.”
Of course, she wouldn’t be. She’d probably produce a glow-in-the-dark Bible from her purse, lead a few prayers, invoke the heavenly spirits for safety, and it would never cross her mind that the thing she should be afraid of was him.
Chapter Four
“I remember there was a flashlight somewhere in the kitchen.” Cricket felt along the walls, wishing she could recall where she’d seen a plug-in flashlight. While she had to admit to a sneaky bit of excitement at being in total darkness with Jack, this was the type of thrill she didn’t need in her life. “Aha!” Pulling it from the wall, she turned it on, flashing the light right at Jack’s face. He was smiling, she saw, a sort of catlike grin.
“Feel better?” Jack asked.
“Since I don’t see in the dark, yes, I do.” How dare he pull on her heartstrings and then go alpha-jerk on her? He’d almost had her believing that he wasn’t the prodigal his father claimed he was. She set the flashlight on the kitchen table. “Find another one and we’ll each go our own way. I’ll take Suzy’s old room for the time being.”
“Suzy’s old room is where Pop was staying before he took off,” Jack said.
Cricket replied, “Just tell me where you want me. I’ll be up bright and early, as soon as the rains quit, and gone before you know it.” She wasn’t certain she’d actually sleep under the same roof with Jack, in fact, wouldn’t even consider it if the roads were better. “And this is a secret to be kept between you and me, if you don’t mind.”
He grinned. “Do I look like the kind of man who kisses and tells?”
She grabbed the flashlight. “If you have kissed me, it must not have been memorable. I’ll take one of the rooms that hasn’t been in use.”
He followed her as she went up the stairs. “I’ll sleep on the sofa downstairs. Feel free to yell out if you get scared. I’ll be close by enough—”
She stopped and turned on the staircase, not a hairs-breadth away from him since he’d been following her, his eyes on her rump, if she had Jack Morgan figured correctly. “I can’t see myself calling for you to rescue me from anything.”
“Not even a mouse?” he asked, his eyes dancing with mischief.
“Mice?” she repeated faintly. “Do you have them?”
He shrugged. “I can’t speak to the quality of the upkeep at the ranch. There were many months when no one was here, so I suppose there could be some furry residents.”
“You’re horrible,” she told him. “You’re trying to give me the shivers.”
“You wouldn’t be afraid of a tiny furry rodent, would you, Deacon?”
She snapped back around and marched up the last couple of stairs, heading into the first room she saw. It was empty except for a dresser and a bed, it had its own bathroom, and best of all, the door locked with a satisfying click when she shut it in Jack’s face. “Jerk,” she muttered. “What woman loves a mouse?”
“Good night,” he called through the door.
“Good riddance,” she replied, hugging the flashlight.
J ACK WENT DOWNSTAIRS , moving around skillfully in the darkness, and clicked on the TV as he tossed himself into his father’s recliner. Then he realized the TV didn’t work at the moment. There was nothing for him to do, and that made him miss Cricket’s lively banter, even if she was a bit vinegary for his taste. He liked his women a bit more sweet and willing, and if they threw in a little hero worship, that was even better. Yet Cricket didn’t seem to feel
