“And another thing. While you’re here, you’re to be respectful—to each other and to the adults here. I want to hear ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’ I want to hear ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir.’ And, you gentlemen, you’re to treat Kira and Consuelo as the ladies they are. Do you understand?”
The students nodded.
“I want to hear it loud and clear. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir!” the students chorused.
“Fine.” He gave them his sternest glare. “Dismissed.”
* * *
After the students had gone to their cabins, Jake wandered outside and sat down on the front steps to clear his head. The dog came up behind him and thrust its nose under his arm. He made room for the shaggy creature beside him, one hand scratching its lopsided ears.
Consuelo had passed on the good news about Dusty—a big relief. But even if the old man made a full recovery, he was going to be out of action for weeks, leaving Kira with the full burden of the ranch, the students and the horses. Whether he liked it or not, she was going to need his help.
Need.
Jake had never liked the word. It implied guilt on one side, dependency and weakness on the other. The only person he’d ever truly needed was Wendy. When she died, it was as if something vital had been torn by the roots out of his soul. He’d made a vow never to need anyone—or to be needed—again. Until today he’d managed that. Now here he was, trapped, indebted and needed.
He had stopped petting the dog. It whined and nudged his hand, wanting more. Jake obliged, using his fingers to untangle a bur lodged under its collar.
It wa
s dark now, the house quiet. Overhead, the night sky blossomed with stars. Bats swooped low, catching insects in midair. In the paddock, the horses were stirring, their low snorts and nickers sounding like murmured conversation.
He remembered how Paige had shown him the way to feed the big animals. Such a smart, confident little girl, like a miniature of her mother, but with gifts of her own. She’d be in bed by now, lost in childish dreams.
The thought of her triggered an ache in his chest. Even if he were free to love his daughter, there was no way he could claim her or think of staying. The time would come—and soon—when he’d have to walk away. He would do it, knowing it was best for her, even though it would be like ripping out a piece of his heart.
Lord, why had he let the old man bring him here?
Why hadn’t he realized it would be the biggest mistake of his life?
CHAPTER SIX
Jake was still on the porch when Kira’s Outback drove in the side gate and pulled up to the house. The dog rose to greet her, tail wagging, as she climbed out of the driver’s seat and walked around to open the back. Inside were several tall paper bags filled with groceries.
“Let me give you a hand with those.” Jake hurried down the steps and scooped up two of the heaviest-looking bags.
“Thanks.” Kira grabbed a third bag. “Consuelo only asked me to pick up a few things, but I got carried away.”
Jake started up the steps again. “How’s Dusty?”
“Holding his own. It was hard seeing him so helpless. But he’s a tough old man. He’s got to pull through. I can’t imagine this place without him.”
“You want these bags in the kitchen?”
“Right. The eggs, milk and juice go in the fridge. The rest can be left out till morning. In case you’re hungry, I bought extra chocolate milk and donuts.”
Was that an invitation to stay? Jake put the groceries on the kitchen counter, leaving the question open. Kira came in with a single bag and set it on the kitchen table. She looked burned-out after the long, rough day. Shadows rimmed her storm-gray eyes. “There are two more bags in the car,” she said. “Do you mind?”
“No problem.” Jake went out and retrieved the rest of the bags. When he came back into the kitchen, Kira had just finished stowing milk jugs in the refrigerator.
“I have to put the car in the shed,” she said. “Stick around. I need to talk to you about tomorrow.” Without waiting for a reply, she hurried outside again. That was Kira. Always focused and charging ahead, even when she was exhausted. Her constant drive tended to set his teeth on edge. But he was here to help, Jake reminded himself. He would do his best to give her what she needed.
Jake heard her vehicle start up and pull away. Having nothing left to put in the fridge, he wandered into the living room to wait. When she didn’t return after a few minutes, his restlessness drove him to explore.
A floor lamp, behind the sofa, cast a low light over the room with its well-worn leather furniture, sandstone fireplace and timbered ceiling. Leading off to Jake’s right was a shadowed hallway, lined with several doors. At the far end, a sliver of light and the muted theme of a popular telenovela flowed from the crack under a closed door. That, Jake guessed, would be the room where Consuelo was enjoying a well-earned rest.