Sunrise Canyon (New Americana 1)

“You can joke all you want,” Jake said. “But you’ve had a heart attack. You need to rest and get better.”

Dusty shifted in the bed. “Kira says you’re doing a fine job with her students.”

“I’m pitching in where I can. But I’m no substitute for you. I don’t have your knowledge, and Kira, good as she is, doesn’t have your storytelling gift. We’re hoping that once you’re up to it, you can handle the lectures and leave the heavy work to me.”

“So you’ve decided to stay on. You know that nothing would make me happier, don’t you?”

The words stunned Jake for an instant. Was that what the old man had planned all along, to make him a permanent part of the ranch? He struggled to find his voice. “Sorry, but I never said that. Once you’re on your feet, and once I’ve repaid what I owe you, I’m planning to move on.”

Disappointment was written on Dusty’s face. “I was hoping, when you saw how much we needed you, you’d change your mind.”

“Dusty, any cowboy worth his salt could wrangle those horses and herd those kids around better than I do. You don’t need me. Neither does Kira.”

“And Paige? I take it she still doesn’t know who you are.”

“She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Jake shook his head. “But I can’t be a father to that little girl. I’m a wreck. I get dark spells that last for days, even weeks. I get nightmares that wake me up screaming. I fly out of control for no sane reason. The longer I stay, the greater the risk that she’ll be hurt—if not before I leave, then after.”

“Kira’s a therapist. She could help you, if you let her. And the horses—”

“I’ve tried therapy. Nothing works.” Jake was feeling the pressure. He needed a break. “Is there a Coke machine on this floor? I’m getting pretty dry.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Dusty said. “But they could tell you at the nurses’ station.”

“I’ll ask. Want anything?”

“I could use a beer. But I know better. So, no, just get your Coke.”

Jake walked down the hall to the nurses’ station and was directed to the vending machine outside the elevators. The single five-dollar bill left in his wallet bought him a cold Coke and gave him change. He took the long way back to Dusty’s room, sipping as he walked.

The old cowboy had been good to him, bailing him out of jail and giving him a job. Jake understood his motives—or at least he could imagine he did. Dusty was getting old, and even before the heart attack, he could’ve been aware that his health was failing. Aside from Barbara, Wendy’s missionary mother in Africa, Kira and Paige were his only heirs. The ranch was Kira’s livelihood. He would want her to stay and continue her program there. But she couldn’t manage everything on her own. Who better to help her than the man who was closest to being family—Wendy’s widowed husband and Paige’s father?

For all Jake knew, the old schemer could’ve even had matchmaking in mind, bringing him back in the hope that he and Kira and Paige would make a family. But that was a joke. Jake was even less fit to be a husband than a father. As for Kira—that kiss had pushed all the right buttons. But marriage involved a lot more than chemistry. And he couldn’t imagine prickly, headstrong Kira as anybody’s wife.

He returned to Dusty’s room. The old man was sitting taller in the bed, looking as if he had more to say. Jake sat down, prepared to listen.

“I never asked how you were getting along with Kira,” he said.

Jake flinched, remembering the feel of her in his arms. “Fine. She’s pretty much all business, and very protective of Paige.”

“That’s about what I expected,” Dusty said. “But I need you to understand some things about her. Remember when I said she needed you to forgive her for the accident?”

“Yes. She told me about stopping for coffee that night. But the accident wasn’t her fault—and that’s what I told her. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. There’s nothing to forgive.”

“But there’s more to Kira than that. Something else you need to know.” Dusty cleared his throat. “Wendy may have told you this story. Stop me if you’ve heard it.”

Jake nodded. Wendy hadn’t talked much about her cousin in their brief time together. Back then, nothing had mattered except the two of them.

“You may have heard this much,” Dusty said. “Growing up, Kira was a gifted pianist. By the time she was in her teens, she was playing as a soloist with community orchestras. She’d even applied to Juilliard and was waiting to hear from them.”

“I had no idea,” Jake said.

“Kira’s father, a doctor, had his own private plane. He and Kira’s mother had scheduled a ski trip to Salt Lake City. They’d planned to fly north a day early to take advantage of good weather, but Kira had an important concert that night. She wanted them there, so they put off their flight until the next day.”

“Oh, Lord.” Jake could guess the rest of the story.

“That’s right. They hit a storm and crashed into a mountain.”

“And Kira?”