“Why?”
He summarized Lilly’s plan to use the mule as a teaching tool and positive influence on the center’s clients. “I haven’t decided anything yet. There are some insurance issues to resolve. And I wanted to bounce the idea off you, seeing as the work the clients do will fall under your domain.”
“Are them people up to the task? Cleaning out pens doesn’t take much know-how, but it’s physically demanding, and they gotta be able to follow directions.”
“Ms. Russo seems to think they are.” Jake’s voice involuntarily warmed when he spoke Lilly’s name.
Did Gary notice? Jake wasn’t sure how much the employees knew about his former relationship with Lilly or what conclusions they’d jumped to. Bear Creek Ranch was a small community, and as much as the family tried to minimize it, people gossiped.
“What about the guests?” Gary asked.
“Obviously, nothing the center does here can interfere in the slightest with the ranch’s operation.”
Gary nodded. The guests—their comfort and enjoyment—were his top priority. “We might want to put the mule in by himself for a while. Just to be on the safe side. Some horses take unkindly to long ears.”
“I don’t think he should be allowed on any trails, either, until we determine just how lame he is. Make sure he’s ridden only in the round pen for now.”
“Sounds like you’ve already decided.”
“No. But I will take Ms. Russo’s proposal to the family.”
Gary’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “That ought to be interesting.”
Jake didn’t dispute his statement. The Tuckers were close but they didn’t always agree on what was best for the ranch—and each other. Gary knew that better than anyone. Thirty years of working and living side by side with his employers had given him an inside track. Their relationship had recently become further entwined when Gary’s daughter had married Jake’s former brother-in-law.
“We’re meeting on Saturday,” Jake said. Pushing away from the railing, he turned toward his truck, mentally composing his argument to the family in favor of Lilly’s plan. Tax deduction and goodwill aside, it was the right thing to do. The Tuckers had a longstanding history of giving back to the community.
“I’ll have Little José ready one of the stalls,” Gary said.
“No rush.”
Jake’s words were wasted on his manager. The stall would be fit for a Kentucky Derby winner by quitting time today.
“Not that my opinion counts, but I think helping the center is a good idea.” Gary had fallen into step beside Jake. Midway between the ATV and Jake’s truck, they paused to finish their conversation. “Ms. Russo is a fine lady with a heart of gold. She works her tail off for them folks.”
“Yes, she does.”
Was that a subtle reprimand in Gary’s tone or was guilt coloring Jake’s perception? Probably a little of both.
“Lord knows some of them need a fighter on their side. It’ll be my pleasure having her around.”
Jake’s, too. More than he would’ve guessed and for reasons in no way connected to the center, its clients or an old, lame mule about to find a new home on the ranch if he had any say in the matter.
He cautioned himself to tread carefully. The reasons he’d broken off with Lilly in the first place hadn’t changed. If anything, they’d intensified. As his ex-wife’s wedding approached, his daughters were becoming more sullen and starting to act out, especially his oldest, Briana. Asking them to accept yet another change, in this case Lilly, wasn’t fair and would only make the situation worse.
Lilly had the right idea: keep things on a professional level, for everyone’s sake.
But after seeing her today, Jake knew it wouldn’t be easy.
Chapter Two
Lilly bent over the compact porcelain sink and turned the right faucet on full blast. Forming a cup with her hands, she splashed cold water on her face. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed that her efforts fell short of the desired effect. Her complexion remained as pale as when she’d woken up that morning.
With a flick of her wrist, she shut off the water, snatched a coarse paper towel from the dispenser and blotted her face dry. When she was done, she reached into her purse and removed a small bottle of antacid tablets, popping two in her mouth. She doubted they’d cure what ailed her.
Since last Thursday when she’d met with Jake, her stomach had been in a chronic state of queasiness. Despite her best efforts, her plan for the center still hadn’t come together. And at the rate things were progressing, it might never.
Keeping her word to Jake, she’d contacted the Horizon day care’s owners over the weekend, and Dave had assured her the insurance was adequate to cover clients and staff while they were visiting the ranch. Yesterday afternoon, the appropriate documentation was faxed to Jake’s office. His assistant had verified its receipt but volunteered no additional information in response to Lilly’s probing, other than to inform her that Jake would be in touch.
Lilly’s anxiety had increased when the Malcovitches called a short while ago to tell her that if she didn’t have the mule picked up by tomorrow, they were giving him to someone else. She immediately placed another phone call to Jake and received the same cryptic message from his assistant. Lilly’s nerves couldn’t take much more.
Popping a third antacid tablet, she returned the bottle to her purse and silently chided herself for letting Jake’s failure to call back upset her to the point of making her ill. He’d said he’d be in touch and he would. Jake was nothing if not dependable. All she had to do was wait.
Giving her wispy bangs a quick finger-combing, she spun on her heels, opened the bathroom door and was immediately halted in midstep. Mrs. O’Conner was right outside and standing behind her wheelchair was Georgina, the center’s head caregiver.
“Sorry.” Georgina backed up Mrs. O’Connor’s wheelchair to let Lilly pass. “She says she has to go. Now.” Georgina rolled her eyes.
Lilly understood. Mrs. O’Connor “had to go” five or six times a day, whether she truly needed to or not.
“How are you doing today, my dear?” Lilly stooped to Mrs. O’Connor’s level and laid a hand on her frail arm. “You seem sad.”
Mrs. O’Connor raised watery eyes to Lilly. “My cat’s missing.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“She’s been gone three days now.” Mrs. O’Connor sniffed sorrowfully. “Such a good kitty.”
Lilly straightened but not before giving the older woman a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sure she’ll return soon.”
“I hope so.”
According to Mrs. O’Connor’s daughter, the cat had expired of old age more than a year earlier. There were days Mrs. O’Connor remembered and days she didn’t. The Horizon staff had been asked by her daughter to play along whenever the cat was mentioned.
The O’Connors were typical of the center’s clients. Caring for elderly and emotionally or physically challenged adults wasn’t always easy. Families needed breaks to run errands, attend to personal business, go to dinner or one of a thousand other things most people took for granted. If family members worked outside the home, those breaks were even more important. The Horizon Adult Day Care Center helped by providing quality care in an attractive facility and at an affordable price.
After the death of her son, Evan, and the divorce that followed, Lilly had reevaluated