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Abby saw compassion on his face, but she didn’t want him thinking of her as the pitiful widow. “It’s not like that here. I have a lot of help from my family.”
“You’re lucky. My brother has a two-year-old son who lives with us. The three of us take care of him.”
“And his mother?” Joyce wanted to know.
“It was a messy divorce. Jake has custody.”
Joyce raised a questioning brow. “Three men raising a child alone? I don’t know.”
“No offense, ma’am,” Jesse answered, “but some women don’t make good mothers.”
Apparently, Joyce decided to drop the matter as she glanced around the table and saw that everyone was finished. She rose. “You all sit still and I’ll bring in some pie.”
Jesse saw Abby rise to help her mother as he spoke to his hostess. “Thanks, Mrs. Martin,” he said, “but I couldn’t eat another bite. The dinner was delicious.”
Halfway out of the room, her arms full of plates, Joyce glanced over her shoulder. “Well, all right, if you’re sure.”
As Abby moved to clear his side of the table, Jesse caught her attention. “I’d like to show you what I’m doing with your horse, if you’ve got a minute.”
“You don’t mean tonight?” Lindsay interrupted. “It’s nearly dark. I thought we might go out by the highway, the three of us. There’s this new little club that opened up—”
“Not me, not tonight, but thanks,” Jesse told her. He turned back to Abby expectantly.
She made her decision quickly, before she could change her mind. Perhaps if she talked with this man, she’d get it in her head that he had nothing to do with that other Jesse. “I’d like to see your progress with Remus. I don’t often have time during the day. I’ll meet you as soon as I finish helping Mom.”
“Great. I’ll let Remus out into the pen.”
Grace jumped down. “Can I go, too, Mommy?”
“No, sweetie, not this time.” The little girl followed her mother into the kitchen.
Lindsay flounced out of the room, but Jesse didn’t have time to worry about her. He had to talk to Abby, to convince her he hadn’t meant to leave the way he had.
“Thank you, Mr. Martin.” He reached to shake hands with his host who appeared half-drunk.
“Sure, sure.” Vern didn’t notice the offered hand as he busily poured himself more wine.
Jesse saw himself out.
Abby leaned on the top board of Remus’s specially built pen and watched Jesse with her horse. He’d turned on the outside lights and she could clearly see that he was holding a rope lightly coiled at his side. Jesse walked closer to the stallion, using the rope as a threat, as if he intended to lasso him with it. Remus danced out of range, his twitching tail revealing his discontent at this evening invasion.
Over and over, Jesse crowded him, closer and closer, and each time, the stallion would back away. Abby drew in a nervous breath as Remus reared back, pawing the air, but Jesse moved quickly out of harm’s way. She couldn’t help wondering if he’d ever gotten hurt working with wounded horses.
After a few more encounters, Jesse stopped, speaking softly to the horse, then left the pen and joined her by the fence.
“You have a way with horses,” she told him, knowing there were plenty of men who’d never get in a pen with a horse like Remus.
Jesse hung the coiled rope on a post. “And you have a way with children.” He motioned toward the little schoolhouse. “That’s a lot of kids to keep in line.”
“I’ve always liked children.” She glanced at Remus standing at the far end, watching them warily. “I’m curious. Why a round pen?”
Jesse shrugged. “It’s going to sound obvious and silly, but often when you work a horse and he wants to escape, he heads for one of the corners and you have to tug and coax him away. In a round pen, there’s nowhere to hide. And I don’t have to butt heads with him over it.”
“That makes sense.”
There was precious little moonlight, which was why he’d hit the lights. Turning, Jesse leaned his back against the rail and looked her over. She was wearing a soft-blue shirt over tan slacks and her hair was hanging loose around her shoulders. Her eyes were that incredible cornflower blue that he remembered so well. Like he remembered how they’d darken when he’d touched her, loved her.
He jerked his attention back to the horse. “Casey tells me Remus had been mistreated when you found him. How’d you get him over that?”
“It wasn’t easy. That was why I was so upset when he got burned. He’s already been through so much.” She scooched up and sat on the top railing, her feet on the second rung. “Mostly I was just gentle with him, helping his wounds to heal, letting him get to know me and realize I was no threat to him. His previous owner, a big, burly man, made a contest out of it, demanding dominance to satisfy his own ego, so his neighbors told me. Then he abandoned him and moved on.”
“Some people should never own horses. Common sense isn’t as common as you might think.” He smiled at her. “You may have a career as a horse whisperer.”
“Mmm, I doubt that. I saw you work Remus earlier this afternoon. I’ve never seen such patience.”
“That’s what it takes. You’ve got to stand steady. If you move fast or demonstrate too much energy, the horse will bolt. I’ve learned to stop, breathe slowly and deeply, to visibly relax so he can see that. Horses are attuned to instincts as much as voice and actions. He instinctively knows that if I’m relaxed, I’m no danger to him. Even tonight, although I pressed him with the rope, I didn’t capture him with it.”
Abby was listening on two different levels: the first, all about Remus, the second the struggle inside her about the familiarity of this man. His voice had the same timber as the old Jesse. How could that be?
She cleared her throat. “So now he’s used to your scent and knows you’re no threat. What is the next step?”
“To get him to allow my touch, to learn some simple commands and follow them.”
“He’s pretty high-spirited.”
“That’s fine and you want some of that. But he also has to learn to interact with people and other horses.”
A light breeze shifted a lock of Abby’s hair and settled it on her cheek. Jesse’s hand half raised to brush it back when he stopped himself. He hadn’t the right to touch her, not yet. Maybe not ever.
Now that he had her here, he searched his mind about how best to tell her the truth. Before he could speak, Abby interrupted his nervous thoughts.
“How do you go about breaking a horse? For years I’ve watched how they do it here and I’m not real happy with their methods.”
Jesse took a step closer to where she sat, inhaling her soft floral scent. “The original horse whisperer, the man who taught my father, and then later Dad taught me, didn’t believe in breaking horses. He called it starting them or joining up, as the horse joins with man. That sort of communication results in the horse voluntarily cooperating.”
She wondered if his short beard would feel soft or prickly, then chided herself for her roving thoughts. “We have this mare that absolutely won’t take the bit, won’t cooperate at all. Dad got her from a friend in a trade. No one can seem to get through to her. I don’t suppose you’d want to give it a try?” Then she quickly thought better of the request. “Oh, but, I shouldn’t ask since that’s not why you’re here.”
“I’d like to try. I can’t work with Remus all day. You work a little, then let him rest and remember what he’s learned. Then go back and try again.” He smiled up at her. “Keep in mind, though, that I’m not a magician.”
“Absolutely. I just wondered if there was a better way. I hate the idea of dominating any animal, making him give up his will to suit ours. It seems wrong.”
“I think it is. Along the way, the owner gets frustrated, which can cause him to hurt the horse he’s trying to grind down into submission. The male ego is the cause of most horse cruelty.”
She smiled down at him. “And as a man, you don’t have a problem admitting that?”
“No, because I’m not one of those men.”
“I’m glad you explained things to me.” She had no reason to linger and should probably go in.
Jesse held out his hand to help her down.
Feet on the ground, her eyes went to his big hand that all but swallowed hers. Suddenly, her heart picked up a beat as something familiar caught her eye.
There on his thumb was an X, a scar she remembered. Jesse Hunter had told her he’d gotten cut on a barbed wire fence when he was only ten, leaving a clear scar in the shape of an X. How could two men with the same first name have so similar a scar?
Still gripping his hand, Abby’s eyes rose to his, questions swimming in them. “This scar…it can’t be! But it is. You and Jesse Hunter, you’re one and the same!”
Disbelief and shock had her trembling as the truth slammed into her. “Oh, God!”
Chapter Three
“Please, Abby, I can explain.” He raised a hand to touch her, but she stepped back out of reach.
“Explain? You lied to me six years ago when you said you’d come back and explain why you left.” Her voice was trembling and she fought to control it. “Why? I want to know why.” And why now, when she’d just about stopped thinking of him daily.
Jesse wondered if the truth would really make her feel better. He had to try. “Sometimes my name can be an obstacle in getting to know someone. I was trying to get experience working with cattle because my father wanted to add cows to the ranch, to diversify.”
“Why couldn’t you just be honest and say that? My father would have…”
“…never hired me if he’d known I was a Calder. I needed to be anonymous, to be just one of the men so I could learn from the ground up.” Jesse scraped a hand over his beard, searching for the right words. “I never meant to hurt anyone, least of all you.”
Angry, hurt, breathing hard, Abby just stared at him, as a variety of emotions bombarded her. She waited. There had to be more.
He shuffled his feet, wondering why he’d thought this would be easier than it was turning out to be. “That summer, my brother went to a ranch in Montana to learn all about sheep because Dad didn’t know if he wanted to add cattle or sheep. He used the name Hunter, too.”
“Did he romance a girl there, too? Did he lie to her, then leave her hanging?” Her eyes struggling with tears, she stared into his, daring him to contradict her. Jesse had lied about his name. What else had he lied about?
The sound of male laughter floated out of the open door of the barn. “Please, I have a lot more to tell you. Could we walk a ways?” He honestly hadn’t realized the depth of her hurt. Did his leaving send her into the arms of another man, the one she’d so hastily married?
Abby shook her head, edged away from him. “You’re a little late with your explanations. Six years too late.” She needed to get away before the tears burning her eyes fell and let him see just how badly he’d upset her. Again.
“Abby, I always knew you to be fair. I’m asking you to walk with me, to hear me out. Fifteen minutes. Is that too much to ask?” He’d never begged before, but he had to make her see.
She could give him that much. A part of her wanted to hear the rest. “All right. Fifteen minutes.” She checked her watch. “It’s more than you deserve.”
They began to walk away from the round pen and the barn, down a jagged path toward the stream that snaked through the ranch. The smell of mesquite peppered the air with its pungent aroma, mingling with the scent of wild honeysuckle. The heat of the day was at half power with the retreat of the sun and a light breeze cooled things down. The hoot of an owl echoed from a distance as night birds twittered in the trees.
A perfect night for an imperfect couple.
Jesse touched her elbow to guide her toward a large rock alongside a weeping willow at the water’s edge, but she jerked away. At the rock, she turned to look at him. “I thought you wanted to talk. You’ve already wasted several minutes.”
He faced her, gauging his words. She was actually going to hold him to a time limit. Beneath the hurt in her eyes, he saw anger and hoped he could erase it. “I lied about my name, but that was all I lied about, Abby. I never lied about how I felt about you. I fully intended to return and tell you who I really was after I’d made sure my father had survived his heart attack. But about fifty miles from home, a drunken driver in a pickup hit my convertible head-on.”
Her eyes widened at this news, but she stood silent.
He could have told her about how they’d had to rebuild his nose, about his clavicle broken in two places, his collapsed lung, the removal of his spleen, the four surgeries on his leg that would never be exactly the same and the crushed vertebrae in his back that would likely give him pain for the rest of his life. He could have, but he chose not to. The last thing he wanted was her pity.
“Ironically, I wound up in the same hospital as my dad, only he got to go home before me. I was pretty badly banged up, in a coma for over a week, then months of healing and physical therapy.”
She didn’t want to feel sympathy for him, but she couldn’t help it. Months recovering from a head-on collision. And she’d had no idea. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I couldn’t for the first few weeks, but I phoned as soon as I was able. I talked to Lindsay. She told me you’d gotten married and moved away.”
Abby shifted her eyes to the stars in the cloudless sky, studying them as if the answers were spelled out there. “I tried finding you. I called every Hunter family in northern California. I checked on the Internet on a link for traveling ranch hands. Naturally, I came up empty-handed.” She wrapped her arms around herself, as if to ward off a chill even though it was quite warm.
“I’m sorry, really sorry, Abby. I even sent you two letters.”
Frowning, she turned back to him. “Here, at the ranch?”
“One here and one to the university even though they told me you’d quit. I was hoping they’d forward it. But I guess you’d already gotten married. They both came back marked ‘not at this address.’” He dared to touch her arm, needing the contact. His skin was cool and she didn’t pull away this time. “Your husband, this Tom Price that Casey told me about, you must have met him when you went back to the university soon after I left, right?”
“Something like that.” Abby moved away from the rock, away from his touch, turning her back to him. “You’d hurt me. I felt so alone and…”
“…and you married him on the rebound?” Perhaps that was a presumptuous assumption, but after they’d been so close, Jesse couldn’t believe she’d tumble into love that quickly.
She didn’t answer him. She didn’t have to. “Then you had to go through his death. Were you with him when he drowned? Did you come back here after that?”
Abby didn’t want to go into the details. “I came back home because I was pregnant with Grace.” Finally, she slowly turned around. “What exactly did Lindsay say to you? Do you remember?”
“Oh, yeah. She told me I wasn’t welcome around here, not to phone or send mail or come by ever again.”
“I… I guess she was trying to protect me.”
“From me? Why? I didn’t think your family even knew we were seeing one another.”
“Mom and Dad didn’t, but Lindsay’s enterprising. She probably saw us leaving to meet down by the river or maybe in the hayloft.” No, she didn’t want to think about those times. “Listen, I understand why you couldn’t come right back, but I still don’t see why you lied about your name. That’s…that’s…”
“That’s the way it’s done in ranching circles, Abby.”
“But it’s dishonest. It’s like spying to pick up another rancher’s secrets.”
Jesse shook his head. “What secrets? Ranching is ranching. I wasn’t running around taking notes and jotting things down. I was trying to see if we could handle raising cattle much as your father does here. To see if cattle would fit in with our herd.”
He didn’t think he’d done anything wrong, and maybe he hadn’t. All in the eyes of the beholder, Abby thought. She rubbed at a spot over her left eye where a headache was forming. “Well, that’s all well and good, but I’m sorry. I can’t trust you, Jesse. And if my father should find out, he’d feel as betrayed as I do.”
“I think you’re wrong. I’m not ashamed of what I did, not any of it. I’ll go to your father right now and tell him everything and…”
“No! No, don’t do that. He’s got enough problems right now. You may have noticed at dinner that he’s distracted and worried.”
Jesse frowned. “What kind of problems is he having?” Vern had confided in him, but he wondered if Abby knew.
“I’m not sure. He won’t talk about it, but I think it has to do with money. He’s lost several good men. Don’t tell him about this right now. I don’t want to add to his worries.”
“All right.” He stepped closer, took both her hands. “What about us, Abby? Do you forgive me?” When she hesitated, he went on. “We were close once. I’ve missed you.” He saw the wariness in her eyes and knew he’d put it there.
She wasn’t without her own secrets, her own deception. She had no reason not to forgive him. How could she continue to blame him when he’d been in that terrible accident? But she certainly wasn’t about to fall under his spell again. Once you’ve been burned, it would be stupid to stick your hand back in the fire.
“Yes, I forgive you.” Gently, she removed his hand. “But that’s as far as it goes, Jesse. You’re here to help Remus and nothing more. There is no us anymore. Good night.” Turning on her heel, she started walking back, then shifted into a run.
