“I know how Will feels,” Jesse muttered. “I’d like to find that bastard—excuse me—too and let him know what a world of hurt really feels like.”
“You think I don’t?” Cora Lee’s features were frozen into a mask of ice and steel. “Richard Lowell almost killed one of my sons. Stole from us. Used us. If I had him here in front of me right now, I can’t say that I wouldn’t reach back into time for a little frontier justice.”
Jesse smiled grimly as he nodded in agreement. “But we can’t. Will can’t. Not yet anyway and he’s just going to have to suck it up. Hell, for all we know, Rich is in that damn urn.”
But even as he said it, Jesse hoped that wasn’t true. He really wanted to make Rich Lowell pay for hurting his family.
“Agreed,” Cora Lee snapped, taking a sip of her black coffee. “And it’s pretty much what I told him an hour ago. Would have had better luck talking to a boulder. Maybe it’d help if you tell him.”
“I can do that.” Jesse left his mother’s cottage and started for the main house. Moonlight lit his way, but he didn’t need it. He could have found his way over any part of this ranch blindfolded. Jesse knew every stone, every tree, every damn speck of dirt on this land as well as he knew his own bedroom. It was his home. His life.
Already wired way too tight, Jesse felt like he was walking a fine line of control. Which meant he was in the perfect mood for a confrontation with his little brother.
* * *
Jillian glanced at baby Mac and smiled. The little girl had her very own paintbrush and was applying fresh green paint to the wall—though she was getting more on herself. What her daughter lacked in talent she made up for in enthusiasm.
Silly to start painting tonight and Jillian knew it. But she hadn’t been able to stand it.
“Just one wall,” she told herself. She’d do the rest of the work tomorrow, but for tonight, she really wanted to see how the color would look on the boring beige walls.
Already, the apartment was taking on a different look. Of course that had a lot to do with the things Jillian had found while out shopping with Lucy. Not that she was spending tons of money—she’d found a few great items at the consignment shop and then had splurged at a discount store and bought a few pots and pans and a four-piece set of dishes, along with a new crib for Mac. Everything else they needed, Jillian figured she would buy a little at a time.
“The important thing here is,” she said to Mac, “I have a job, we have a home and some wonderful new friends. Isn’t that right, baby girl?”
Mac whipped her head around to look at her mother. A stray splash of green paint swiped across her little cheek and her green eyes danced with joy. “Jesse? And horsies?”
Jillian swallowed hard and told herself to distract her daughter. “And your friend Brody, remember?”
“Jesse!” Mac crowed the word and dragged her paintbrush against the wall again.
It looked like Jillian wasn’t the only one in the family who was a little obsessed with Jesse Navarro. Now, she told herself, she had two hearts to protect.
Sighing, she set her brush down, walked to her daughter and swept the girl up into her arms. Staring into that beautiful little face, Jillian said, “Let’s get you ready for sleep in your new bed, okay?”
Mac tipped her head to one side, her wispy blond hair waving with the movement. Touching her mother’s cheek with her little hand, she smiled. “Jesse?”
“No, no Jesse tonight,” Jillian answered and felt horrible when Mac’s tiny mouth moved into a pout with a quivering bottom lip.
“Want Jesse.” Mac’s head dropped to her mother’s shoulder in disappointment.
“Me, too, baby,” Jillian whispered. “That’s the problem.”
* * *
Inside the main house, Jesse stalked across the entryway into the great room and stopped on the threshold, taking a long look at the familiar room.
Cora Lee had decorated this room as a family gathering place, so she’d made sure it was comfortable, welcoming and able to withstand dirty cowboy boots.
The overstuffed furniture, covered in dark red, deep blue and forest green fabrics, boasted deep, soft cushions. Hand-carved oak tables held books, magazines and a few of Brody’s toys. Brass lamps with Tiffany glass shades threw puddles of golden light on the floor and the shadow of color on the walls. A man-height stone fireplace took up one wall and on the opposite side of the room a gigantic flat-screen TV took up most of the wall space. There were couches and chairs scattered all around the room, just waiting for a crowd to drop by and settle in.