Resisting the Rancher (Redwood Falls 3)

This time he cut her off, reacting to her challenge, unable to stop himself. “Yeah? What’s going to happen?”

She glared at him for a few seconds before she snapped, “Well, let’s just say—it won’t be pretty.”

****

Jeff closed his office door, still feeling the zing of his own words being thrown in his face as he sat down behind his desk, Janet choosing a chair facing him. She carried the monitor and sat it on the edge of his desk and then folded her hands in her lap, taking a couple of deep breaths before she began. “Look, I don’t think this is working.”

Son-of-a-bitch. How bad had he fucked up? “I apologized—”

“It’s not about that, Jeff,” she answered, her voice rising. “Yeah, you’re a gigantic ass but I already knew that.”

Her words angered him, but they also meant that she was moving past the jealous fit he’d thrown, and for that he was relieved. But still. “What then? What’s not working?”

She took a deep breath and then said, “We can’t do this to the kids. Especially not to Zach. I’m getting too close,” she said, her voice snagging as she dropped her eyes to her lap. “I’m beginning to feel things,” she stalled before lifting her eyes. “And what’s going to happen when I leave? How will he feel? Hannah’s so young, it won’t affect her like it will him.”

Shit. She wasn’t telling him anything he hadn’t already figured out. And why the fuck was he so goddamn selfish that he kept putting his own needs before his son’s? Maybe if his needs and his son’s needs were diametrically opposed—maybe then he’d do and say the things he needed to in order to protect his son. But he didn’t know what the hell was best. Janet was kind and loving toward Zach and how the hell could that be a bad thing? Jeff was torn—but no matter what, he wasn’t going to let her slip away from him without a fight. “Why the hell do you feel the need to leave at all? I’ve already told you, we should get married.”

“Why would I marry a jealous ass?” she snapped immediately, obviously still pissed at him—and son-of-a-bitch, he really couldn’t blame her.

She closed her eyes for a moment before lifting her lashes. “We can’t get married, Jeff. It’s too soon—it’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous. It would solve everything.”

She began shaking her head as if seriously confused. And then she stilled and clamped her bottom lip between her teeth before asking, “Where’s Zach’s mother?” Even though he could see she was clearly uncomfortable, she held his gaze as she continued, “The first day I was here, he told me he didn’t have one.”

Jeff felt his abs tighten. He felt like they were having two different conversations. She was still baiting him for the jealous fit he’d thrown and at the same time she wanted to have a discussion about his son. And he didn’t want to have the conversation. “He doesn’t,” he replied flatly.

“Was she your wife? Is she dead?”

Every muscle in his body tensed. A wave of frustration came over him and he probably waited too long to answer because she exhaled a pent-up breath and condemned, “You can’t tell me about the mother of your child? You don’t know me well enough to trust me with that information? And you’re a jealous asshole?” she seemed to throw in for good measure. “If that’s the case—don’t tell me I should marry you—don’t do that.”

When had life gotten so damn difficult? Why did the girl want to get all up in his business? He knew one thing, though, and it was fairly written in stone. If he didn’t tell her what she wanted to know—she was going to walk—and he couldn’t deal with that. It didn’t get past him either, that he’d demanded the same information from her—weeks ago. He stiffened his shoulders and sat up straighter. “Yeah, she was my wife, and yeah, she’s dead.”

The irritation in her face began to clear. Her features slowly transformed, the lines of anger disappearing as the softness that he was becoming addicted to encompassed her features once more. She opened her lips to speak, but then closed them again as if torn. And then she glanced down at her lap and worked her bottom lip before saying, “I’m so sorry. I’m not going to pry. I just needed to know.”

She glanced up, and slowly, he nodded his head.

“But what are we going to do?” she asked, twisting her fingers together.

Why did she feel the need to figure this out this very minute? “You wouldn’t leave me now while my kid is sick, would you?”

She shook her head, a look of worry still clouding her expression.

“Well, let’s not worry about it for now. But I understand what you’re saying.”

She studied him, indecision coloring her features. “Can I ask just one more question, please?”

“You can ask,” he said, his tone implying he wasn’t promising an answer.

“How long ago—how old was Zach?” she fumbled, before rushing in again, “I swear to God, this isn’t my curiosity about you—you just have no idea—what I’m feeling.” She lifted her hands and rubbed her eyes, rubbed her entire face as if trying to settle her agitation but couldn’t. “Seriously. You need to send me packing because I’m obviously a crazy woman. I’m having these insane, crazy feelings about Zach. I don’t think that knowing his mom is dead is going to help me—it’s only going to push me off the deep end.”

“Janet,” he tried to soothe but she jumped in again, demanding an answer.

“How long, Jeff?”

“He’s almost thirteen. His mother died when he was six.”

Her face remained stoically impassive for a couple of seconds and then it crumpled as if she’d lost an internal battle. Her hand flew to her mouth as tears began glistening in her eyes. “Six?” she asked, as if it were the most horrible thing ever.

“Yeah,” he said, forcing down the frog in his throat.

She nodded her head, the frown between her eyes one of heartache—and the compassion she was so openly

displaying gripped him somewhere in his chest area. He didn’t know what to think—she was too good for him. That she would have these feelings for his son—that she’d even speak to him after the way he’d treated her that morning, told him so much about her personality.

Having all the information she needed, she took a deep breath and then stood to her feet. She picked up the monitor and looked somewhere to his right, at a spot on the wall as if she couldn’t hold his eyes as she said, “We’re playing with fire here. Your son needs a mother and I can’t ignore that. I’m already feeling things for him—the kind of things I feel for Hannah, except it’s laced with sympathy. A sympathy that makes me want to spoil him rotten and shower him with lo—” She cut herself off as her eyes came to his once more. “So that’s my warning to you, I guess.”

With that, she turned and slipped quietly away.

Chapter Eight

Jeff came in the next day just before noon and found his lunch on the table covered in plastic wrap, Janet absent from the kitchen. How many days had it been now? Goddammit, how long was he going to have to walk around with a perpetual hard on?

He walked out of the empty kitchen, knowing Hannah was asleep as usual. Quietly, he walked down the hall to Zach’s bedroom and stood just outside the door where he wouldn’t be observed.

Janet was sitting on the edge of the bed once again, offering his son a spoonful of soup. “I can do it,” Zach mumbled as he took the spoon from her hand.

“Okay, sweetie, but you do need to eat.”

“I know,” his son replied after swallowing.

She lifted her hand to his forehead and Jeff recognized the conflicted look on his boy’s face, but he didn’t try to pull away from her touch.

“I was worried about you last night when your fever flared up again,” she said gently.

What? She’d taken care of his son in the middle of the night?

Zach didn’t comment as he continued eating and Jeff knew that his growing appetite was a good sign for the boy’s improving health.

Janet stood up and began moving around the room, first straightening out the bed coverings and then adjusting the blinds to let in just the right amount of light. “I’ll come get the tray in a bit. You know if you need me, just shout, okay?”