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She couldn’t catch her breath. It was a stunning revelation for the man who’d vowed to never even visit his father or speak to him again. “Jack, that’s…wonderful.”
His face was impassive. “Glad you think so.”
It was clear he wanted to move on, but Cricket wanted to keep him right where he was. “When’s the surgery?”
“Don’t know. I need to talk to the doctor about the details. Pop says he doesn’t want my kidney, but Pop doesn’t always get what he wants. I can wait him out on this one.”
Her eyes went wide. “No one told me.”
“Maybe we don’t need prayer, Deacon,” Jack said.
“I’ll be praying anyway, cowboy,” she shot back.
They stared at one another silently, each making their own private assessment. A hundred thoughts ran through Cricket’s mind. Why was he doing this? Forgiveness. Redemption. What Jack would never admit about himself—he loved his father, and his family mattered to him.
“You’re a good man, Jack,” she murmured.
“Don’t kid yourself, Deacon.” And with that, he walked away.
She watched him go. If he was aware that she had a crush on him, he ignored it steadfastly. She doubted he thought much about her at all. What did he know about her, other than that she was friends with Suzy, Priscilla and Laura, women who had married his brothers. There would never be anything between them. Like roping wind, she didn’t have a chance of capturing Jack Morgan.
But she still felt an undeniable pull toward him, feelings that defied her normally practical heart.
This would take some thought. Josiah hadn’t bothered to match make for this son because he was unmatchable. Gabe had been fixed up with Laura Adams, who had a young son and daughter. Gabe had fallen like a tree. Dane had been determined not to repeat Gabe’s surrender to his father’s wishes, but Suzy Winterstone had been moved into the Morgan ranch as a housekeeper, bringing with her little twin girls. Spellbound, Dane had followed his brother to the altar. Pete had wanted to give up the military for a life closer to home but never planned to marry, and certainly not the woman he called Miss Manners, Priscilla Perkins. His father had found quadruplet orphans who needed parents and persuaded Priscilla and Pete to marry. Josiah had nearly completed his family tree, and now Jack was willing to extend the old man’s life, giving him the time he needed.
Jack had better watch out. Josiah lived to build his family, and while Jack might give up a kidney, he also might find himself giving up his freedom. Cricket frowned. She knew Josiah too well. As soon as he could draw a healthy breath—and maybe even before—the man would start hunting a bride for Jack. Oh, Josiah would be very sneaky, very underhanded, but before he knew it, Jack would be roped and tied to the Morgan ranch, no matter how much he thought it couldn’t happen to him.
The problem as Cricket saw it was that Josiah had always chosen women with children for his sons, and Cricket had none. Nor could she simply seduce Jack into her bed and catch him that way. Not that she would, though the seduction part was worth investigating because she had a feeling it would be a heavenly experience. As a deacon, she’d look mighty fallen to her congregation if she came up pregnant and unmarried.
Cricket mulled over her other options. There were none, as far as she could see. Walking into Josiah’s hospital room, she found him surrounded by cute, young nurses. Josiah appeared pleased to have this beautiful companionship. It was public knowledge that the wealthy man had one son who was still single, and there were certainly plenty of willing bridal candidates making themselves known to Josiah. She had to make certain he didn’t get that baby-making glow in his eyes for Jack. “Hello, Josiah,” she said, bending down to give him a kiss on the forehead.
The nurses left the room one by one. Josiah grinned at Cricket. “What did you bring me?” he demanded.
“Cookies,” she said.
“Good girl.”
“I saw Jack as I was coming in.”
Josiah nodded, pleased. “I always knew he’d come around.”
The fact was, no one had ever thought Jack would come around—there wasn’t a gambler in the county who would have taken a wager on it. Cricket smiled. “Did you?”
“No.” Josiah smiled. “Just felt like bragging for a minute.”
“You’re entitled,” Cricket said. “So I hear you might get a new kidney.”
“That’s what he says,” Josiah said. “But I have no intention of taking his kidney.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’ll still ride rodeo.” Josiah eased himself up on his pillow. “He just wants to make me crazy. It’s his favorite thing to do, payback for the years he thinks I was a bad parent.”
She looked at the elderly gentleman. “The story I heard was that rodeo was in Jack’s blood. Nothing anyone can do about that.”
“True,” Josiah said. “but he can’t ride with one kidney.”
“But you know he would and that would make you crazy.”
“Right.” Josiah nodded. “I don’t mind heading off into the wild blue yonder, but I do mind sitting around worrying like a durn fool about my durn stubborn son.”
“You have a lot to live for.”
“Oh, hell. You’re a religious person, Cricket. You’re supposed to spout that kind of nonsense. A man lives to do. ”
“So?” Cricket demanded. “What’s your point?”
“My point is that I’m not taking Jack’s kidney just so I can spend a few more years on this earth!” Josiah bellowed. “What good would it do me if he got bucked off and stomped? Do you know how often cowboys get stomped?”
“Perhaps some protective gear—”
“Bah!” Josiah tossed off his covers impatiently. “Have them turn down the heat in here, Cricket. It’s nearly April. Why do they have the heat so high? I’m not some sissy old man who can’t make my own body heat! By heaven, I’m not a corpse yet.”
She smiled. “It is a bit warm in here.”
“Hey, Deacon,” Josiah said. “Sneak me out of this joint.”
Her eyes went wide. “I can’t do that. Why didn’t you ask Jack to? He’s the rebel, isn’t he?”
“Oh, he wouldn’t do it. He’s Mr. Giving-My-Kidney-to-Make-Pop-Feel-Guilty.” Josiah sniffed, obviously upset.
“Josiah,” Cricket said, “we’d all like to see you gracing the earth awhile longer.”
“Oh?” His brows beetled, white and thick on his strong forehead. “Who are we? ”
“Me, for one.”
“Well, that’s one.”
“Okay,” Cricket said. “What would make you feel like you have a reason to live? An important enough mission to keep your boots planted firmly on the earth, so that you can be a gracious recipient of the gift your son is trying to give you?”
He glowered at her. “I’ll tell you, Deacon,” Josiah said. “Find a good woman with children who needs a husband and somehow convince her and Jack to get hitched. That would be worth hanging around to see.”
Cricket swallowed. “A woman with children?”
He nodded. “There’s no reason to leave young children without a father when we have plenty of resources in the Morgan family. If you have a magic wand, wave it and make it snappy, say, in the next twenty-four hours, before they bring in that infernal kidney I’m getting. Grandchildren are what old horses like me live to see.”
“Josiah,” Cricket said faintly, “you’re asking for a miracle, not a magic wand.”
“Don’t you do miracles? Isn’t that your thing?”
She paused. “Certainly I believe in them, but Jack hasn’t been…I mean, I know nothing of his personal life. He could already have a girlfriend.”
“That would make your job easy.”
“If she had children already,” Cricket reminded him. “Just getting him to the altar would be incredibly difficult, but fixing him up with a single mother who would suit him is likely beyond impossible.” Cricket tried to ignore her own racing heartbeat. There was no way she could honestly match make for Jack Morgan—not with the way her heart jumped every time she saw him. Ever since January, when she’d seen him in the bull-riding ring at the rodeo, she’d known she had the man in her sights who could undo everything rational she thought about men and marriage. A rodeo cowboy could never be the perfect man for her, and yet, her heart was drawn to the devil-may-care in him. “I can’t do it, Josiah. It’s not my place to do so.”
“Hell’s bells,” Josiah complained. “A family would settle my son down, and that would be best for everyone.”
“What if he met a woman he fell in love with and then made a family? Wouldn’t that be better?”
“No,” Josiah said stubbornly. “Because Jack will never marry unless he has to. It’s kind of like visiting his old man—it’s costing him a kidney. Whatever woman catches him is going to have to rope, drag and throw my son to the altar, and he’ll yowl like he’s trussed on a Fourth of July grill.”
That was probably prescient. And she didn’t want Jack “yowling” if she was the one tying him down—what woman wanted to catch her man that way? “I’ll just finish the drapes for your house that you’ve been wanting, which Suzy and Priscilla and I promised you months ago. How about that? Wouldn’t new drapes give you a reason to come home healthy?”
He shook his head. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. You are no good at negotiating, Cricket Jasper, particularly as I know you have a thing for my son. However, you’ll never catch him if you’re planning on wrapping yourself in drapes like Scarlett O’Hara, my girl. No, to catch Jack, you’ll have to be willing to lay body and soul on the line. He’s not exactly the curtains type, more like cots and coyotes, if you get my drift.”
Cricket did, indeed, get Josiah’s drift, and considered herself well warned.
Chapter Two
Jack hesitated outside his father’s door, realizing he was the topic of conversation between the pretty deacon and his father. He heard his father sneakily trying to get Cricket to romance him; he heard Cricket backing away from the idea and offering up her services as Martha Stewart instead. Part of Jack wanted to snicker at his father’s failed attempt at matchmaking, the other part of him was seriously annoyed Pop couldn’t just give the whole family-expansion thing a rest. But that was typical of the old man. He couldn’t be happy knowing he had a chance to get well. It had to be the family and kids and happily-ever-after for Pop—as if Jack and his brother’s had ever had that for one single day in their lives.
Thankfully, the good deacon was too angelic for Jack—and too crafty for Pop. Still, it shocked him that Pop thought the deacon had the hots for him. Then again, Pop was entitled to a delusion or two.
“Josiah, I’ll play cards with you, but only if you quit sipping out of that bottle,” Jack heard Cricket say. “Because if you don’t quit, you’ll be too relaxed to tell Jack that you don’t want his silly old kidney.”
Jack leaned close to the door, amused by Cricket’s coddling.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Josiah said.
“And the liquor will skew the blood tests,” Cricket said practically. “It will mess up your medication, and the next thing you know, you’ll be at Jack’s mercy.”
“You have a point.” There was silence for a long while. “I do not want to be at anyone’s mercy.”
“Of course you don’t. Who does?”
“Not me, durn it. Toss this bottle into your purse and take it home to the ranch for me, would you? Store it in my liquor cabinet.”
“I will. It’ll be waiting safe and sound for your return.”
“And when will that be? C’mon, Deacon, I want you to spring me from this place.”
“Aren’t you happy here? You seem to be getting plenty of attention from the ladies,” Cricket said, her tone soothing.
“My heart is already taken,” Josiah said. “Anyway, I was hunting for a girl for Jack.”
“When I saw him ride in January, there was a rumor going around that your son has all the female attention he wants,” Cricket said. “Let’s just focus on you.”
“Was he any good at rodeo?” Josiah asked. “I’ve never seen him ride.”
“He was average,” Cricket said.
Jack straightened. Average! That day he’d placed first with his highest score, the best ride he’d ever had.
“Oh,” Josiah said. “I was kind of hoping he was good at the one thing he’s chased all his life.”
“Well,” Cricket said, “some men are late bloomers.”
Jack blinked. The woman was crazy! She didn’t know what she was talking about. He hadn’t been a late bloomer at anything.
“Later on, Jack mentioned he was considering giving up rodeo,” Cricket said, her tone serene. “Let me see…what did he say he was going to do?” Jack strained, listening to the deacon spin her incredible yarn.
“Oh,” Cricket said, “I remember. He said he’d decided to go into ranching. And do a little math tutoring at the high school. Did you know he got a college degree by correspondence course?”
“He did?” Josiah demanded.
I did? Jack mouthed.
“Yes,” Cricket said. “From what I could tell, he’s very smart and a huge believer in education.”
“That makes me very happy,” Josiah said. “I wish I’d known all this so that I could have told him how proud I am when he was visiting me. I didn’t have a chance,” he said sadly. “We always seem to get into a fight right off the bat.”
“Oh,” Cricket said, “Fathers and eldest sons do that.”
“They do?” Josiah said.
“Sure. And eldest daughters sometimes scrabble with their mothers. I argued a time or two with mine. And my brother.” Jack heard cards being shuffled. “Anyway, you can tell him how proud you are tomorrow.”
“Yes,” Josiah said, sounding happy. “I can. And you know, if he really wants to go into ranching, his brothers have started a new breeding business between them. They’d probably really appreciate the help. Heavens knows I’ve got the land. In fact,” he said, lowering his voice so that Jack had to really bend an ear to hear, “it’s time for me to rewrite my will.”
“Oh, dear,” Cricket said, “let’s play Twenty-one and not think about wills, Josiah.”
“Are preachers supposed to know how to play cards?” Josiah demanded.
“It’s either this or dice. Pick your poison, sir.” Jack heard the sound of cards being slapped down on a table.
“I’m going to have to divide up the ranch, you know,” Josiah said. “Last month I realized I was going to have to leave Jack out. But maybe I’ve just misunderstood him.”
“Most likely,” Cricket said.
Jack frowned. Why was the deacon cozying up to his father on his behalf? She wasn’t very honest for a cleric—she was a pretty face who told outrageous fibs. Too bad she was such a storytelling wench; she’d almost had him believing all that sweetness she was peddling. Almost. But now he knew Cricket was a woman who would say anything to get what she wanted.
He wasn’t sure what Cricket wanted, but he’d know soon enough. Everybody had a price. Except him, of course.
She came out the door suddenly and squashed his toe on purpose. “That’s what you get for eavesdropping,” she whispered. “You’re going to have to think fast to keep up with your old man, cowboy. Let’s see if you can do that, okay?”
Then she popped him on the arm like he was no more than a baseball-playing buddy, tossed her enormous handbag over her shoulder—Pop could have fit a case of whiskey in that thing—and headed off, looking remarkably like a tall, but still cute Audrey Hepburn.
