He drew a deep breath, trying to dispel the mental picture of Uncle Mitch and Stella together.
“Er...Morgan wants to go camping at Flathead Lake with friends from school, a totally teen party of girls and guys.”
“She should know better than to ask.”
Yeah, she should. But lately it seemed as if his daughter was determined to cross every line, test every boundary and break every rule she could find. And she was so blasted angry while she did it. Who’d have guessed that she used to be a sweet kid who loved to spend time with her daddy while he worked on the ranch?
Jackson rubbed the tense muscles on the back of his neck. What was he doing wrong? And now Morgan was throwing out comments about his teenage exploits...?
Hell. He’d tried to live down those years, but it was inevitable that she’d heard some of the stories. No doubt Morgan considered him a complete hypocrite and was angry that he was making her toe the line. But hypocrite or not, he didn’t intend to let his daughter head down the same road that he’d traveled. Not if he could prevent it.
Hmm. What if he tried to make her wear those dresses he’d bought her? Would traditional feminine clothes encourage her to behave more appropriately? But dresses weren’t practical on a ranch, and Morgan would just accuse him once again of having double standards.
“I’ll be out for a while,” he said.
“Going to ride fences?” Flora guessed.
“Yeah.”
As a rule, Jackson rode fences whenever he needed to think or to regain his cool. And with Morgan constantly acting out, he’d spent a lot of time in the saddle checking fence lines.
The next few hours allowed him to relax and clear his mind, only to get uptight again when Morgan refused to come out of her room for dinner.
After eating alone, he went into the ranch office, built on the side of the house so it wouldn’t intrude on the backyard or pool area. Paperwork wasn’t his favorite activity, but he dived into his breeding records with grim determination, only to have the office phone ring soon after he started.
Jackson reached to pick it up, then saw the caller ID on the display... K. Anderson.
He dropped his hand back to the desk.
Seeing Kayla that afternoon had brought a rush of mixed feelings. Pleasure at first—once he’d been fascinated by the outsider who was so different from the other girls in Schuyler. But the memory of their last discussion in high school had intruded on the pleasure. No guy enjoyed being treated as a chump, and Kayla’s claim that he’d gotten her pregnant had been ridiculous; he’d used protection and half his classmates had boasted about sleeping with her.
After a minute Jackson dialed in and listened to Kayla’s voice mail message.
“Jackson, this is Kayla Anderson. It’s urgent we speak as soon as possible. I’m staying with my grandparents, but please call my cell phone.” She gave the number and got off quickly.
He sat back and frowned.
What could Kayla want? Surely not the same old thing. She couldn’t hope to raise the issue again after so long. Or maybe she could. What was it about women and the way they thought?
Twenty minutes later a knock on the door provided a welcome distraction. Jackson got up to answer and found his younger brother there. Behind Josh the July sun glowed low on the horizon. It was a time of day Jackson especially loved on the ranch, but lately he’d been too distracted by dealing with Morgan to appreciate it.
“Hey, Josh. You want a beer?” Jackson went to his small office refrigerator and extracted a couple of bottles.
“Thanks.” Josh popped the lid and settled onto a chair with a groan.
“Something wrong?”
“Same as always. I came up from Texas since Grandpa was making noises as if he was finally ready to give up the ranch. Then I get here and it’s business as usual, so I’m heading back in a couple of weeks. I’d leave earlier, but you know Mom. I thought she’d have kittens when I said I wasn’t staying.”
Jackson nodded sympathetically. The family plan had been for him to get Great-Uncle Mitch’s ranch, and Josh their maternal grandfather’s place. The second part of the plan kept getting delayed.
“Never mind,” Josh said. “I just need to unwind.”
“Yeah.” Jackson thought for a moment, then opened his mouth. “You want to know something weird?” he asked. “I saw Kayla Garrison in town today, except she’s Kayla Anderson now. Remember her?”
“Who could forget Kayla? I saw her, too, on my way to the post office. She’s even hotter than in high school. Say, are you still interested in her?”
Jackson almost let out an emphatic no before recalling that Josh didn’t know the history between him and his old girlfriend.
“Can’t say that I am,” he said slowly.
“Then, would it bother you if I asked her out? That is, if I run into her.”
Jackson gulped a mouthful of beer rather than reply too quickly. He didn’t know what kind of woman Kayla had become, any more than he knew what she wanted to talk about with him. She might have even called to apologize for claiming he’d gotten her pregnant—unlikely, but not impossible.
He finally shrugged. “It makes no difference to me. Just employ the usual caution when it comes to women.”
“Amen to that, brother.”
ALEX SQUIRMED AS he listened to the faint murmur of his mother and her grandparents talking downstairs after dinner.
The discussion he’d dreaded all day was coming. Okay, so he’d been dreading it since the moment he’d decided to ditch Dad and head for Montana.
He just hadn’t been able to stand the way Dad got so excited about spending time with Brant, his new stepson, but didn’t seem to notice when his other two kids were around. Dad used to claim he didn’t care about sports, but now he was doing all that outdoor stuff with Brant and wasn’t interested in the things he and Alex had once done together. And it sounded as though the two of them had really gotten buddy-buddy on that camping trip they’d taken right after school got out.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Brant wasn’t such an obnoxious little creep.
Nah, Alex decided. Finding out his dad had adopted him when he was little would have been rough no matter what, though Brant being an obnoxious creep hadn’t helped.
Worst of all, Alex realized he should have figured it out a long time ago. He and Dad weren’t at all alike. Maybe, deep down, he had known and hadn’t wanted to admit it.
His sister slid into the room. “I gotta say,” DeeDee said, “I never thought you’d have the gazoomba to run away from home.”
Alex pulled himself up and faced the squirt. Why did she have to make up such strange words? You’d never know she was practically a genius. Maybe. Personally, he thought she’d just fooled the teachers and school counselor.
“I didn’t run away from home,” he informed her haughtily. “Guys who run away from home don’t leave letters to tell their mothers what they’re doing. Besides, I also emailed Sandy about it.” Sandy had been his best friend for as long as he could remember.