Harlequin American Romance October 2013 Bundle: Twins Under the Christmas Tree\Big Sky Christmas\Her Wyoming Hero\A Rancher's Christmas (30 page)

“Don't see why not. I'm finished here. Let's go inside and I'll make some coffee.”

“If it's okay with you, I'd rather talk in my vehicle. It's nice and warm.”

Jackson looked the older man in the eyes. It was a strange request. But he supposed it had to do with the history between Vince and Maddie. “Maddie'll still be in bed, if that's what's worrying you.”

“I don't want to run the risk of disturbing her.”

Vince seemed uncomfortable. Maybe even nervous. “Fine.”

Jackson made sure to close the barn door behind them. Parked beside his own truck was Winnie's little SUV with the decal of the steaming latte on the back window.

The surprise of seeing her vehicle made him freeze for a moment.

“She doesn't know I borrowed her car. I shouldn't really be driving at all since I don't have a license.”

Jackson remembered then that Vince's only mode of transportation was a bicycle, even though he'd been sober for several years now.

As he walked alongside the other man toward the idling vehicle, Jackson noticed their strides were exactly the same length.

They parted at the SUV, each heading to a different door. Once inside, Jackson looked at the older man again. “So what's this about?”

“Winnie came to talk to me yesterday. She's very upset.”

“Oh, hell.” Why would Winnie talk to this old coot about their personal problems?

“I'm not a fan of butting my nose into other people's problems.” Vince grasped the steering wheel with both hands, facing out the front window instead of looking at Jackson. “But don't you think that little lady has been through enough?”

Jackson felt sick to his stomach at the thought of Winnie hurting. Because of him.

“It was a mistake to get involved in the first place. I wish I could undo it. And I wish I hadn't hurt her. But it's too late now.”

“Too late because you don't love her?”

Right.
As if it was even possible for him to
not
love her.

“I do love her. But it's wrong. I'm the last person who should be trying to take Brock's place in her life. He was practically my brother.” Jackson's voice choked in his throat.

He swallowed. Forced himself to say the rest. “Bobby called me his daddy the other day.
Me.
When it should have been—” His voice failed him again, and he stared out the side window bleakly. The dogs were sitting at the door to the house, waiting for him to let them inside. “I've got to go.”

As he groped for the door handle, Vince grasped his arm. The old guy had a real tough grip.

“We're not finished. The dogs will be okay for five more minutes.”

“I have nothing more to say.”

“Really? Well, I was hoping you could explain something to me. If you love Winnie, why is Bobby seeing you as a father figure such a deal breaker?”

“Isn't it obvious?”

“You feel guilty about his father dying. Well, how does that help Bobby?” When Jackson didn't answer, Vince tried a different tack. “You grew up without a dad, didn't you? How was that?”

Hell. Jackson gave the old guy a dirty look. “What would you know about me and my childhood?”

“More than you would guess.”

A sudden cold rippled down Jackson's spine. It had nothing to do with the weather. And everything to do with the man sitting beside him. “What are you trying to tell me?”

Chapter Fourteen

“I hate talking about my past. It's nothing to be proud of.” Vince was hanging on to the wheel again, as if he could steer his way out of this conversation.

Jackson had a feeling he wouldn't like what was coming, either. But he felt as pinned to his seat as if the air bag had exploded and was holding him there.

“I grew up in Coffee Creek, but I left town when I was twenty. I wanted to be a rodeo cowboy. And I got what I wanted. I spent most of my adult life following the circuit, and most of that time I was also an alcoholic.”

Jackson knew all this. But hearing the pain in Vince's voice as he recounted the story of his past made it seem all the more real. And sad.

“Maddie Turner and I were high school sweethearts. I wanted her to marry me and live my vagabond lifestyle. She turned me down. Can't blame her. I didn't offer her much. Over the years I turned to different women. One of them was a pretty gal who liked to drink almost as much as I did.” He hesitated, then added, “Your mother.”

In the silence that followed, Jackson wondered if he'd heard right. “You can't be saying...”

“I'm your father.”

Jackson shifted in his seat and stared at him. Searching the face that he'd never paid much attention to before, he suddenly noticed similarities. The line of his jaw. The color of his eyes. Before Vince had gone gray, his hair had probably been almost black, like Jackson's.

“I was drinking heavily in those days. I went to Maddie for advice. We were still friends and I saw her every time I passed through town. She told me I should sober up and marry your mother. But I couldn't. So I gave your mother the sum total of my savings, which was about thirty thousand dollars, and that was it. I never saw her again.”

Jackson didn't know what to think. Or how to feel. He'd gone kind of numb, he figured. “Why didn't you tell me this sooner?”

“What's the point? It's sure as hell too late for me to be any sort of real father. The only reason I'm telling you now is so you'll think about Bobby and what's best for him. Do you think the memory of a dead father will be enough? Was having an absent father enough for you?”

Vince knew the answer, of course.

Just as Jackson did.

Bob Lambert had been the answer to his deepest prayers. But Bob hadn't made an appearance in Jackson's life until he was thirteen years old. He would have given
anything
to have had a dad like Bob from the start.

“You're comparing Bobby to me—it's not the same thing. His dad died. You just opted out of my life.”

“That's true,” Vince agreed. “But I grew up without a father, too. And I'm not sure the
reason
a boy doesn't have a father matters. You feel the void all the same.”

* * *

J
ACKSON
GOT
OUT
of Winnie's car, feeling like a different man than the one he'd been ten minutes ago. He didn't turn and look as Vince drove off. It was going to take some time to adjust to the fact that the old cowboy was his biological father.

Right now he just felt numb about the whole thing.

The dogs came running toward him eagerly. They were anxious to get inside.

He didn't seem to care about anything, himself. He went through his usual routine in a fog. Giving the dogs their breakfast, putting on coffee and preparing Maddie's cereal.

He heard her coughing as he approached her room, but by the time he knocked, the fit had ended.

“Come in,” she said, her voice weak and tremulous.

“Good morning, Maddie.” She looked more pale than usual. He set down the tray, then opened the drapes. “Are you okay?” When he turned around, Maddie had raised her eyebrows.

“I should be asking that about you. Are you all right, Jackson?”

Hell, no, was the right answer. But, of course, he wouldn't say that.

“You're the patient, not me. How was your night?”

She sighed. “Not bad.” She dipped her spoon in the cereal, hesitated then placed the small amount of food in her mouth.

Vince Butterfield was his father, Jackson thought, as he went back to clean up the kitchen.

Vince Butterfield is my dad.

He didn't know when it would sink in. If it would ever feel real.

But what did feel all too real was knowing he'd hurt Winnie. Vince had been right about that—she didn't deserve it. The fact that he was hurting too—because God, how he missed her—that didn't matter. He'd broken his rule, gotten involved, slept with her and created expectations...

Then bolted.

It was wrong, he saw now, to have put his guilt ahead of Winnie's happiness and security.

One more thing Vince was right about. He could be a good father to Bobby. He felt it in his bones. Just the way he'd known, when he'd first landed on Coffee Creek Ranch, that he'd found the sort of life where he belonged.

Jackson spent the morning doing chores around the house, then making Maddie some soup for lunch. She was settled in her easy chair in the sitting room now, and after he'd made sure she was comfortable, he asked if she'd be okay if he went into town for an hour or two.

“Of course.” She gave him a concerned look, but said nothing further.

He drove straight to the Cinnamon Stick. It was one-thirty. He was glad to see that no vehicles were parked by the café. The lunch rush must be over.

He hesitated before stepping inside. For a long time he'd avoided this café, the way he'd avoided Winnie. Knowing she belonged to another man, and knowing how much he wanted her, he hadn't really had a choice.

But so much had changed.

And now he was here to see if Winnie would give him another chance.

* * *

Q
UIET
MOMENTS
WERE
bad for the bottom line. But right now, Winnie was thankful they had no customers. She turned on the dishwasher, then went to wipe down the tables, only to discover Dawn had already taken care of it.

“Why don't you take a quick break for lunch now?” Winnie suggested.

“Thanks. Mind if I dash over to the post office? I ordered the cutest pair of shoes online and I want to see if they've arrived yet.”

Winnie laughed. “Sure. Go ahead.” Dawn was lucky she still lived at home or she'd never be able to afford her shopping habit.

The young blonde slipped on the coat she'd bought only a month ago, then skipped out the door. Finding herself alone, Winnie sank onto a stool and allowed her head to sink onto the counter.

The past three days had been
miserable.
Hardest of all had been putting on a brave face to friends, employees and customers. It was different when Brock had died. Back then everyone had understood that she was falling apart. They'd been supportive and kind.

But now her heart had been broken and nobody knew. She hadn't even admitted to Laurel how badly she felt. Mostly because she doubted her friend would understand. For some reason Laurel just couldn't see that Jackson was
it
for her.

The doorbell chimed and a gust of cool air snaked across her back. Winnie jolted upright and put on a smile, then turned around to face her new customer.

But it was Jackson in the doorway. He'd shut the door but was rooted to the welcome mat.

Her heart skipped and jumped at the sight of him.

Traitorous heart.

She felt her smile slip away until her lips were drawn in a hard, thin line.

“What are you doing here?” She crossed her arms over her chest, backing up toward the kitchen.

Jackson never came to her café. So why now?

She thought back to that morning, seeing Vince park her car in the usual spot before slipping the keys back on the hook and going back to the kitchen.

She'd wondered what he'd been up to.

And now she knew. He'd gone to talk to Jackson. Probably told him he'd better do right by Winnie Hays, or else.

It had been sweet of Vince to try.

But totally misguided.

“Think I could get a coffee? One of those cinnamon buns, too?”

Did he really think it would be that easy? “I'm taking a break right now.”

He nodded. “Okay. Well, the real reason I came was to apologize.”

He looked miserable. Which made her angry. He was the one who had run out, who'd trampled all over her heart and her feelings.

And
he
was miserable?

“Sometimes apologies aren't enough.”

“You're right. But they still have to be said.” He moved across the room, stopping at the counter then laying his hands flat on the surface that stood between them. “I panicked that night. I acted like an idiot and a fool. Especially considering I'd just spent the night with the woman of my dreams.”

His words nestled into her heart, finding a soft spot she hadn't yet protected. She took a deep breath.
Don't be a fool, Winnie. Don't fall for this again.

“Let me guess. You felt guilty when Bobby called you daddy.”

“Of course I did.”

She shook her head. There was no
of course
about it. But he didn't see that. She didn't think he ever would.

“I'm sorry I hurt you that night. I acted like a jerk. Can you forgive me, Win? Give me another chance?”

She had to look away from him then. Because there was still something about his eyes that drew her in. She had a feeling it would always be this way between them. Which only made this more painful, knowing they could have had something so powerful and good.

“What are you asking for, Jackson? Another chance to feel guilty because you're alive and Brock isn't?”

His brow furrowed as he took in her words. “I'll always feel bad about that. But that doesn't mean I can't love you. And Bobby, too.”

“Actually, it does. As long as you keep hanging on to that guilt of yours, nothing is going to change.”

“You're acting as if I have a choice about how I feel,” he said bitterly. “But if I could turn my emotions on and off so easily, I would have talked myself out of loving you long ago.”

“Well, maybe you should keep working on it.”

He went silent, then said softly, “You can't mean that.”

“You've given me no choice. Now, please leave, Jackson. I'd like to make room for the
real
customers.”

* * *

J
ACKSON
SPED
BACK
to Silver Creek faster than was safe, but damn it, he'd pretty much had enough. He'd apologized, hadn't he? Why was Winnie being so bullheaded about this?

But by the time he'd pulled up to the ranch house, he'd calmed down enough to acknowledge the truth in what she'd said. As long as he felt guilty about Brock, he'd never be able to love Winnie the way she deserved. And he couldn't be the father that Bobby needed, either.

They were both, in the long run, going to be better off without him.

The same would not hold true for him.

Winnie had been his sunshine, his joy. He'd never replace her in his life. And no amount of time would change that.

He grabbed the bags of groceries he'd picked up in town and made his way to the kitchen. “Maddie, I'm back. Everything okay?”

“Fine, thank you.” Maddie's voice traveled faintly from the sitting room.

“Would you like some tea?”

“That would be lovely.”

He filled the kettle and placed it on the hot cast-iron stove, then put away the groceries. Five minutes later, he carried a tray to the sitting room.

Maddie seemed to be shrinking a little more every day. His heart constricted when he saw how small and helpless she looked as she smiled at him.

“You're a blessing, Jackson.”

“I'm glad someone thinks so.”

Her eyes settled on him with keen interest. “Are you finally ready to tell me what's been going on with you these past few days?”

“It's complicated.”

“I have time to listen.”

She sounded so calm and unjudgmental that he could feel the bands around his chest loosen. He perched on the stool by her chair and stroked one of the dogs at her feet. Honey or Trix. He still couldn't tell them apart.

“Winnie and I have been having problems. It's my fault. I kind of freaked out when I realized her son was seeing me as a father figure.”

“Why would that frighten you? You seem to love his mother. And you're so good at looking after people and animals who need you.”

Was he? He was kind of honored that she would describe him that way. “It's because I feel guilty about stepping in on Brock's turf. People keep telling me to get over it, but I can't. And then Vince showed up this morning and—”

“Wait a minute. Vince Butterfield was here?” Maddie pressed a hand to her chest.

“Yup. Came into the barn when I was doing chores. He was mad at me for hurting Winnie. And he told me the most incredible story.” Jackson swallowed, wondering if he could say the words out loud. Maybe it would help make it feel less surreal. “About being my father.”

“Finally. I was wondering if he would ever do it.”

Jackson wondered if this woman would ever stop surprising him. “You've known all along?”

“I, too, have played a larger role in your life than you realize, Jackson. But I couldn't tell you until Vince was ready to reveal the fact that he was your biological father.”

Jackson stared into the face that he thought he knew so well. “Is this where you finally explain why you're planning to leave me your ranch?”

She smiled. “It's funny in a way. You and I have one thing in common—we've both lived with guilt for a very long time. The difference is that yours is self-inflicted. You had no way of avoiding that moose. But me, I hurt Vince badly when I refused to marry him.”

“But if you didn't love him, you didn't have a choice, either.”