the ranch had welcomed her. Maggie had always been amazed that she could stand on her porch and feel as though she were in the middle of the country, when in reality the city was just a short freeway ride away.
Here on the King Ranch it was as if time had not exactly stood still but at least had taken a break, slowed down. She’d always thought this would be a perfect place for her children to grow up. She’d imagined watching four or five King kids racing through the yard laughing, running to her and Justice for hugs and kisses and growing up learning to care for the ranch as much as their father did.
But those dreams had died the night she’d left Justice so many months ago.
Now she was nothing more than a barely tolerated visitor, and Jonas would never know what it was like to grow up among his father’s memories.
Or to grow up with his father’s love.
Justice was deliberately closing himself off from not only her but also the child they’d made together. That was something she couldn’t forgive. Or understand. Justice had always been a hard man, but he was also a man devoted to family. To his brothers and the King heritage. So how could he turn his back on his own son?
In the past three days, Justice had done everything in his power to avoid so much as being in the same room with Jonas. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest, but she wouldn’t force him to care, even if she could. Because then his love wouldn’t mean a thing. To her or her son. So she would be professional and keep her emotions tightly leashed if it killed her.
“Loving this place didn’t keep you here,” he pointed out unnecessarily.
“No, it didn’t,” she said. “It couldn’t.”
He shook his head and frowned, squinting out from beneath the brim of his hat. “It could have. You chose to leave.”
“I’m not going over that same old argument again, Justice.”
“Me neither,” he said with a shrug. “I’m just reminding you.”
Maggie inhaled slowly, deeply. She told herself to bank her temper, to not let him get to her. It wasn’t easy, especially since Justice had always known exactly which of her buttons to push to get a reaction. But as satisfying as it would be to shout and rage and give in to her frustration by telling him just what she was thinking, it wouldn’t do a darn bit of good.
“We should walk.” She spoke up fast, before her temper could override her more rational side. Then she turned to offer him her arm so she could assist him getting down the short flight of steps leading from the porch to the yard.
Instantly, he scowled at her and stepped around her, the tip of his cane slamming down onto the porch. “I’m not completely helpless, Maggie. I can get around without holding on to your arm. You’re half my size.”
“And trained to help ambulatory patients get around. I’m stronger than I look, Justice. You should remember that.”
He shot her one hard, stony glare. “I’m not one of your patients, damn it.”
“Well, yeah,” she countered, feeling the first threads of her patience begin to unravel, “technically, you are.”
“I don’t want to be—don’t you get that?”
She felt the cold of his stare slice right into her, but Maggie had practice in facing down his crab-ass attitude. “Yes, Justice. I get it. Despite the great trouble you’ve taken in trying to hide how you feel about me being here, I get it.”
His mouth flattened into a grim line, and she glared right back at him.
“You still won’t leave, though, will you?”
“No. I won’t. Not until you’re on the mend.”
“I am mending.”
“Not fast enough and you know it. So suck it up and let’s get the job done, all right?”
“Stubbornest damn woman I’ve ever known,” he muttered darkly and, using his cane to take most of his weight, took the steps to the drive. The minute his feet hit the drive, both ranch dogs stopped their playing, leaped up, ears perked, then with yips of delight, charged at him.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Maggie jumped out in front of him to keep the too-exuberant dogs from crashing into Justice and bowling him right over, but it wasn’t necessary.
“Angel. Spike.” Justice’s voice was like thunder, and when he snapped his fingers, both dogs instantly obeyed. As one, they skidded to a stop and dropped to the ground, their chins on their front paws as they looked up at him.
Maggie laughed in spite of herself. Going down on one knee, she petted each of the dogs in turn, then looked up at the man watching her. “I’d forgotten just how good you were at that. The dogs always did listen to you.”
One corner of his mouth quirked briefly. “Too bad I could never get you to do the same.”
Straightening up, Maggie met his gaze. “I never was the kind of woman to jump at the snap of your fingers, Justice. Not for you, not for anyone.”
“Wouldn’t have had you jump,” he told her.
“Really. And what command would you have had me follow if you could?”
He shifted his gaze from hers, looked toward the barn and the pastures beyond and said softly, “Stay.”
Chapter Six
A ping of regret echoed inside Maggie at his statement, sending out ripples of reaction like the energy released when a tuning fork was struck. Her entire body seemed to ache as she watched him walk away, keeping his gaze averted.
“You would have told me to stay?” she repeated, hearing the break in her own voice and hating it. “How can you say that to me now?”
He didn’t answer her, just kept walking slowly, carefully. The only sign of his own emotions being engaged was how tightly he held on to his cane. Maggie’s back teeth ground together. The man was just infuriating. She could tell that he was regretting what he had said, but that was just too bad for him.
The first time she’d walked away from him and their marriage, it had nearly ripped her heart out of her chest. He hadn’t said a word to her. He’d watched her go, and she’d felt then that he hadn’t really cared. She’d told herself through her tears that clearly their marriage hadn’t been everything she’d thought it was. That the dream of family she was giving up on had been based in her own fantasies, not reality.
She’d thought that Justice couldn’t possibly have loved her as much as she loved him. Not if he could let her go without a word.
Then months later, they shared that last weekend together—and created Jonas—and still, he’d let her go. He’d stayed crouched behind his walls and locked away whatever he was thinking or feeling. He’d simply shot down her dreams again and dismissed her.
And even then she hadn’t been able to file the signed divorce papers when he’d returned them to her. Instead, she’d tucked them away, gone through her
