He didn’t need a job. He had one waiting for him in Nevada.
Dana drove up to the back door and turned off the engine. She climbed out and went to assist her son.
“You want to come see my pony?” the boy asked, his dark eyes wide. Jared hadn’t missed the strong resemblance to Marsh. The same features and coloring. Surprisingly, finding this little version of his brother didn’t make him sad.
“Not now, Evan,” his mother said. “Mr. Trager’s head hurts.”
Jared noted the boy’s disappointment. “Maybe later, son.”
Dana and Evan led the way up the steps to the door. The wooden slats needed to be replaced, as did many of the boards in the porch. Inside, there was a mudroom with a washer and dryer and several pairs of boots lined against one wall. The temperature dropped when they entered a big peach-colored kitchen with floral curtains at the windows. An oval table surrounded by six chairs was the center focus, and on top, a big bowl of fruit. The place was so homey, it caused an ache in his gut for what he’d never had.
“You sure you’re okay?” she asked.
He nodded as he leaned against the counter.
Looking unconvinced, Dana went to the phone on the wall and dialed a number. She walked into the other room and talked in muffled tones. In a few minutes she returned.
“Can I get you something cool to drink?” she asked.
“If you have some iced tea, that would be nice.”
“I do.” She went to the refrigerator where several pieces of artwork were on display. No doubt the boy’s handiwork.
Evan pointed out one of the pictures, an abstract figure. “See, that’s my pony. That’s Sammy.”
“He looks like a fine animal.”
The boy nodded. “My grandpa got him for me for my birthday. I was three years old.” He held up five chubby little fingers. “I’m almost five.”
Jared frowned, finding he was curious about Dana’s father. “Did he teach you to ride?”
Again the child nodded. “Then he got sick and went to live in heaven.” He looked so sad. “I miss him.”
Jared was happy the kid had been loved. “I bet you do.”
Dana returned to the table with a glass of tea and one of lemonade. She handed the tea to Jared and set the lemonade on the table for her son. After the boy took a long drink, she said, “Evan, go change out of your good clothes.”
“We’re not going into town?” he asked. “What about my ice cream?”
“We’ll go get some another time. We need to take care of Mr. Trager.”
“Oh.” That seemed to interest Evan more. “Is he gonna stay until he gets all better?”
“For a little while,” his mother said. “Stop asking so many questions and go change.”
“’Kay.” Evan shot off, his footsteps sounding as he scurried down the hall and up the stairs.
“Sorry, my son is very inquisitive.”
“He’s not a bother,” Jared assured her. Which was true. “Besides, I’m the one who’s intruding on you.”
“And I’m the one who ran you off the road.”
He shrugged. “No one was hurt.”
“Your truck didn’t fare too well. And I’m not convinced you’re completely all right. Your face is all red.”
“It does itch. It’s the air bag.” He tried to make light of the situation. “I should have ducked to get out of the way.”
She went to a drawer and took out a kitchen towel, wet it, then brought it to him. “Sit down.”
When he did, she pressed the cooling cloth to his face. He was taken aback by her casual manner. But it wasn’t so casual for him. Her gentle touch definitely was causing a reaction.
“You could have been seriously hurt,” she said.
“But I wasn’t. So no need to worry.” He took the cloth from her, but she didn’t pull away. She was close. So close he breathed in her scent, a freshness he couldn’t describe, but knew he could quickly become addicted to it. He raised his gaze to hers. Her eyes were a liquid green with tiny golden flecks in the center. His body began to heat up and he’d be lying if he told himself it had anything to do with the Texas weather. Finally he diverted his gaze.
She also pulled back. “I—I called Doc Turner anyway. He’s going to stop by just to check you out.”
Before Jared could argue that a doctor’s visit wasn’t necessary, he heard the door open and an older man walked into the kitchen. “Hey, you’re back from the bank already? They give you the loan?” Just then the man noticed they weren’t alone and his face reddened. “Sorry, Dana, I didn’t know you had company.”
“Bert, this is Jared Trager. Jared Trager, Bert Marley. We nearly collided on old Parker Road. I managed to get out of the way, but Jared’s truck hit a tree.”
Bert winced. “Well, jumpin’ jackrabbits. Ain’t that all we need. How bad?”
“His truck isn’t drivable,” Dana said. “But I’m more worried about Mr. Trager. The air bag went off.”
Bert limped over and examined Jared through his wire-rimmed glasses. “Looks like you got a nasty rash.”
“I heard that’s one of the drawbacks,” Jared said. “I was hoping I’d never find out, but I’ll survive.”
“Doc Turner’s coming out,” Dana said.
“What were you doin’ out on our road?” Bert scrutinized him. “Take a wrong turn?”
Jared didn’t miss the hostility in the man’s eyes. This was the opening he needed. But how do you just blurt out that you’re the brother of the man who left you pregnant? “No. I was headed this way.”
“Why?”
Jared felt the beads of sweat on his forehead. “I wanted to talk with Ms. Shayne.”
A grin spread across the old man’s weathered face. “So you come about the job.”
Jared was caught off guard by the question. He meant to say no, and tell the truth, but his answer didn’t come out that way. “I guess I could use the work.”
Later after supper, Dana went to her father’s office. What a day it had been. She hadn’t gotten to the bank to talk to Mr. Wilson about the mortgage. Instead, she ended up causing bodily injury to a stranger.
She was so grateful when Doc examined Jared and declared the man fit, then gave him cream for the rash. And by mealtime his headache was gone, too. All she had to do was send the drifter on his
