Jace had messed up so many parts of himself over the years that he couldn’t remember what all had been broken or crushed. But this time had been the worst. He’d bruised his spleen and his ribs. Gotten pounded so badly in the head that he was currently rocking the concussion to top all concussions.
But none of that would have kept him from the sport he loved.
A broken riding arm had cinched his demise. His temporary demise.
Her eyes narrowed. “Why aren’t you off riding bulls?”
He rolled up his shirtsleeve to give Kenzie a better view of his cast. Eight weeks casted and then some rehab. Maybe more, the doctor had said. Maybe less, Jace had thought.
Was that a flash of sympathy from Mackenzie? Maybe even concern? The whole thing passed so quickly, Jace couldn’t be sure.
“I suppose I didn’t notice your cast earlier because of the dark red haze of anger and annoyance at your very presence clouding my vision.”
Jace laughed. He couldn’t help it. She might hate him, but he didn’t reciprocate the feeling.
“I’ve no doubt you’ve been injured before. Why’d you come home this time?”
“My mom’s not doing well.” Her emphysema had worsened over the last few months, but she was still working two jobs. Taking medicine and pretending that the disease wasn’t killing her. The woman wouldn’t slow down. Jace could appreciate that, but he also hoped to convince her to give herself at least the chance for more time.
But he wouldn’t have taken a break from bull riding just for that. He wasn’t sure what that said about him. The injuries had forced him out. For now. And not one part of him wanted to admit to Mackenzie that his body was falling apart on his watch.
“I...” Her gaze softened. “I’m sorry to hear that about your mom.”
“Thanks.” The woman might be mad enough to breathe fire, but she was still concerned about his mother. Jace appreciated that.
“You know what I’m really asking.” Her words clipped out—bitter, heavy and dripping with suppressed frustration. “Why are you here?” Translation: “Why are you at Wilder Ranch? My ranch.”
Because I have to work. Jace couldn’t handle inactivity. Laziness. Ever since he’d been fifteen and made a decision he was still paying for. He refused to sit around this summer, while he healed... And no one else was going to offer him a job that would interest him in the least for such a short amount of time. Plus Wilder Ranch—and Mackenzie’s family—had been a haven for him during the worst time in his life. If this place needed him, Jace couldn’t say no to that.
Even if Mackenzie wanted to drop a sledgehammer on his bare feet and then shove him across red-hot embers.
“Why not here?” His trite answer earned a flood of silent responses. First anger. So much that her cheeks turned a distracting shade of pink. The pop of color highlighted her striking features, rocking him like a gale-force wind. But before he could deal with his unwelcome surge of attraction, her look changed to resignation, then hurt. The last one didn’t stick around long, but it was enough to whop him in the chest. To make his heart hiccup.
Jace had never wanted to hurt Mackenzie. Not in a million years. He’d tried talking to her about his plans. He had talked to her. She just hadn’t listened.
Leaving her had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. He’d hated it. Had even hated himself after.
It had been about so much more than the two of them. It had been about his brother, Evan, who’d lost the chance to chase his dreams because of a stupid, lazy choice Jace had made.
So Jace had done it for him. He’d had to. There really hadn’t been a choice.
But it was seven years too late for explanations, and Mackenzie would crush them under her boot if he offered any up.
“You can’t do this job with a broken arm.” Her chin jutted in challenge.
“Exactly what can’t I do?”
“Ride a horse.”
He chuckled at that silly idea, and she stiffened so quickly that he was shocked steam didn’t shoot out of her ears. Jace really wasn’t trying to provoke her, but the idea of a fractured arm keeping him from riding a horse when he still had one good one was ridiculous.
“My arm won’t prevent me from doing this job, and you know it.”
A strangled argh came from her. Sweet mercy, she was mesmerizing when she was angry. All alive and mad and sparking.
“Jace.” His name on her lips shot a strange thrill through him. “Please don’t do this.” Gone was the burning fire. Now she was deflated. Edged with sharp steel—the deadly stab-you-through-the-heart kind. “I get that Luc thinks we need you. And yes, we need someone. But I need it not to be you.”
She packed a lot of punch into her spiel. And the fact that she’d shown him any kind of emotion—that she was practically pleading with him not to stay... Jace would like to grant her that wish. He really would.
But he couldn’t. Because he needed this ranch. And this place needed him back.
It would be the perfect situation if so much hadn’t gone wrong between him and Mackenzie.
“I’m sorry. But I can’t.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?” Her arms crossed over her Wilder Ranch–logoed shirt, forming a protective barrier, and a scowl marred her steal-his-oxygen features. Man, she was gorgeous. Tall, long and strong, with petite curves. Jeans that hugged her. Worn boots. She was—had always been—a walking ad for all things casual and country and mind-numbing. She hardly ever wore makeup. Didn’t need it. And her wild dark blond hair had most certainly air-dried into those relaxed waves, because she would never take the time to blow-dry it or spend more than five minutes in front of a mirror.
And yet she could take down most of the guys Jace knew with just one piercing glance from those gray eyes of hers. They weren’t blue. That was too simple of a description. They were storm-cloud eyes, so striking and unusual he’d yet to find another pair that had rendered him as helpless as hers did.
“Won’t.” She was already upset with him. He might as well fuel it. At least that would keep him from thinking she’d ever forgive him for leaving. From thinking that there could ever be a second chance between them.
Not that he wanted one. Because once Jace got the all clear to go back to rodeoing—despite the doctor’s recent warning that he shouldn’t be doing anything of the sort—he’d be long gone again.
“I’m not doing it. I’m not training him.” Mackenzie winced at her petulant declaration, which was reminiscent of the tone her four-year-old niece, Ruby, used when she threw a fit. When the girl wanted to watch a show right now. And then usually ended up losing that very privilege because of her attitude.
Luc shook his head, his sigh long and ranking at a ten on the what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you scale.
The two of them sat on the corral railing as a gorgeous Colorado sunset showed off with pink-and-orange streaks kissing the mountains, and the cool air offered a respite from the warm late-spring day.
They’d been watching, encouraging and directing as the wranglers had practiced for one of the nightly performances they’d put on once the guests arrived. The first week might be rough, but it would come together.
It always did.
Ever