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Chapter Two

“I’m not doing it. I’m not training him.” Mackenzie winced at her petulant declaration, which was reminiscent of the tone her four-year-old niece, Ruby, used when she threw a fit. When the girl wanted to watch a show right now. And then usually ended up losing that very privilege because of her attitude.

Luc shook his head, his sigh long and ranking at a ten on the what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you scale.

The two of them sat on the corral railing as a gorgeous Colorado sunset showed off with pink-and-orange streaks kissing the mountains, and the cool air offered a respite from the warm late-spring day.

They’d been watching, encouraging and directing as the wranglers had practiced for one of the nightly performances they’d put on once the guests arrived. The first week might be rough, but it would come together.

It always did.

Ever since she’d been a little girl, Mackenzie had loved everything about Wilder Ranch. The guests who came back year after year. The wide-open land. The hot springs, the fishing, the shooting, the short drive to glorious, unfettered white-water rafting. This place just made sense to her.

Unlike Luc, she’d never had to run off for a time to figure out that this was where she wanted to be. She understood now why Luc had gone to Denver the fall after they’d graduated high school. But at the time she couldn’t have said anything of the sort.

After Luc’s return to the ranch, when their parents had decided to move to a different climate for their mom’s health, it had been a no-brainer that Mackenzie would stay and run the ranch with her siblings.

She’d never struggled with being here—until Jace’s appearance earlier today.

“If I give in on him staying...” Mackenzie still didn’t say his name. Couldn’t. “Then I should at least not have to train him.”

If. Mackenzie clung to the word even though that option was slipping through her fingers. Luc was as sturdy and dependable as tree roots that sank into the ground and held tight for centuries. He wouldn’t renege. If he’d hired Jace, Mackenzie didn’t have much hope of upending that offer.

But maybe she could avoid him. Not run away—that was too weak. But just happen to never work anywhere near him for the rest of the summer.

That sort of impossibleness.

Please, please, please.

“Okay. I will. But then you have to do my job.”

She groaned. She loathed bookwork. Paperwork. Life-sucking monsters. “I can’t believe you hired my ex.” That title was too formal. “My high school boyfriend.” That was a little better.

“I really didn’t know things ended badly between you, or I wouldn’t have. I can’t believe you hid that from me.”

Mackenzie didn’t defend her actions, because what he’d said was true. And hiding things from Luc was no easy task.

“I always just thought he’d left to ride bulls,” her brother continued. “I didn’t know you were so angry at him about it.”

Ouch. That smarted. “He left—” she swallowed, but it didn’t add any moisture to her mouth, which felt as if she’d been hiking for a week without provisions “—in a jerky way. Things didn’t end well.”

And then you left me, too.

Mackenzie hadn’t admitted to anyone how hurtful Jace’s departure had been. She was supposed to be strong, tough, solid—physically, yes. But also mentally. Emotionally. And Jace’s disappearance had cut so deep, she’d been petrified that she’d never recover.

And then, before she’d even had a chance to begin doing exactly that, Luc had decided to move to Denver.

Both of them had abandoned her. It wasn’t the first time Mackenzie had been left behind. Nor, she doubted, would it be the last.

“My to-do list is long right now. There’s a stack on my desk of insurance issues and bills. Plus we’re having a website problem, so I need to call about that.”

“Can a person be allergic to paperwork?” Mackenzie rubbed a hand across the front of her neck. “I think my throat’s closing off.”

Luc snorted.

A fresh chill skimmed along Mackenzie’s arms as the quiet night expanded with chattering crickets and a slight breeze rustling new leaves.

“You know you’ll probably have to help out some when the babies come. I mean, I’m still planning to work, but Cate will need me. I promised her that she wouldn’t be on her own.”

This time. Mackenzie clenched her jaw. She’d gotten over what Cate had done in not telling Luc about Ruby until the girl was three years old. And it wasn’t even her business. Cate was really great. Luc loved her—that much was clear. And Mackenzie had gotten on board. Had forgiven her now sister-in-law for doing what she had done.

But Mackenzie was still protective of Luc. She always had been. When they were kids and he’d needed open-heart surgery, it had felt like she was on that operating table with him. Like she was being cut open, too.

Luc had always been her person. When he’d left the ranch, she’d been so mad. Mostly because she’d missed him so much. The day he’d decided to come home, his truck kicking up dust down the long ranch drive, it was as if she’d been taken off life support and her lungs had kicked into functioning mode again.

Now that Luc had a family, she still missed him sometimes. It only made sense that he’d spend most of his time with them. And yeah, she saw him plenty because they worked together. But he’d been her closest friend for most of her life. She wasn’t girlie. Didn’t have any desire to go shopping with Emma and Cate when they went on one of their marathon trips—she just...wasn’t built that way. Mackenzie had always hung out with the boys. She and Luc had shared friends. And pathetically, now that he had a life and she didn’t, she missed her brother. A mortifying confession she’d go to her grave denying.

“Hopefully the babies will sleep like champs and not fuss, but there’s no guarantee of that. I missed so much with Ruby, and I just can’t do that this time.”

Knife to the heart. Luc was right, and she should jump on the supportive-sister bandwagon and...support him. “Do you have to be so logical? Can’t you take a day off once in a while?”

He laughed. “You’re usually right there with me. But Jace has you messed up. I’ve never seen you so...shaken over a guy.”

Ho-boy. She didn’t like that description of her one bit. She was acting like a train wreck.

Mackenzie had to pull herself together and stop letting it show how much Jace got under her skin.

And really, why should he have that much of an impact on her? It had been so many years since he’d hightailed it out of town that she should be long over these jumbled, intrusive feelings.

Mackenzie didn’t think about Jace all of the time anymore. Not like she had when he’d first run away.

But she did have questions. Like, why had he called her the week after he’d left? And the next week, too? Two phone calls, no messages.

She’d been consumed by what she would do if she happened to catch his call. Would she answer or not?

Turned out her uncertainties hadn’t mattered, because the attempts to reach her had stopped.

Maybe Mackenzie’s issues were more with things left unsaid—undone—than the fact that she was still affected by Jace.

Maybe she was truly over him, but those whys remained.

If that were the case, she’d feel like far less of an idiot. Because that would mean she wasn’t still hung up on him. Just on how things had ended.

“I’ll train him.”

Luc’s head cocked to one side, as he studied her, analyzing her sudden change of mind.

“What? I can do it and be professional.” I think.

Mackenzie had to prove to herself that she could handle being around Jace without letting him affect her. Had to prove that he didn’t still have a hold on her.

And there was a secondary hidden agenda to her offer. If Luc were to train Jace, he’d be so thorough that Jace would be able to run the guest ranch himself in a week’s time. But if Mackenzie trained him...she could brush over things. Hurry along. It wasn’t like she had a bunch of extra time on her hands anyway.

Despite Luc’s confidence in Jace, the man had no idea what he was doing. He’d fail before long, and then he’d leave on his own.

Just because she refused to let Jace affect her anymore didn’t mean she wanted him anywhere near her or involved in her life.

So yes, Mackenzie would train him. Because the faster he failed, the faster he’d go away.

* * *

Jace would figure out how to make himself useful this summer if it killed him.

And this staff meeting might do exactly that.

Well, not the meeting so much as the ice-cold gusts rolling off Mackenzie. The ones giving him frostbite despite the sunny, seventy-degree weather outside.

“Jace will be helping out this summer.” Mackenzie spoke to the staff, who had gathered. The first full-week summer guests arrived tomorrow, and the group had been wrapping up last-minute details. “Especially with Luc and Cate expecting the babies. We’re not sure how all of that will go. So...” Mackenzie swallowed. Took about twenty years to continue. “Let’s welcome him.”

Let’s. Meaning everyone except for her. Mackenzie might be spouting one thing, but her body language said, Pack up and get out of here.

Jace had hoped that she’d calm down overnight and accept that he was planning to stick around for a bit. He’d thought maybe they could actually forget the past and get along for the summer. But if anything, Mackenzie was even chillier than she’d first been. At least yesterday she’d showed some emotion, asking him not to stay. But now? It was like she’d built a wall between them.

She’d offered him a clipped “good morning” earlier, when she’d told him which room in the guys’ lodging would be his and tossed him a key, but other than that, she’d avoided him as if he were a pest or a varmint or some kind of beauty product that she wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole.

And really, Jace didn’t expect anything else from her. He’d been a jerk leaving the way he had. Yes, he’d loved her. But he’d also had to go. The pull had been so strong, it hadn’t been a real choice. Not when his brother’s dream had become unattainable for him. Not when he’d told Jace to go, to live it for him.

Mackenzie dismissed the meeting, and the staff dispersed, their conversations light.

“I’m Boone. Good to have you here.” A young man offered his hand, and Jace shook it. The staffer didn’t look a day over sixteen. Was it even legal for him to work here at that age? Or perhaps he was still growing into his body. Either way, Jace didn’t plan to ask for details. When Luc had said they were low on veteran staff this summer, he hadn’t been exaggerating. Everyone seemed so young. Like puppies. No wonder they’d wanted to hire a lead. Jace might not have experience working a dude ranch, but he knew horses and livestock and pieces of ranching from working one during the summers in high school. People, he could do—he’d always had a way with the human species. So maybe this whole idea wasn’t so crazy after all.

“I follow bull riding. Saw a clip of the Widow Maker ride.”

Just the name of the bull caused Jace to break out in a flu-like sweat.

He’d watched the ride after the fact... He’d had to see it to know what had happened to him, because he didn’t remember any of it. His body had been tossed and trampled like a rag doll in a terrorizing toddler’s hands.

It was amazing he’d survived the ordeal. He’d only watched the video once, and that had been enough.

“That was quite the ride.”

“You can say that again. You ride?”

“No. Did some mutton busting when I was younger, but nothing since.”

“You could always get back to it.” Possibly. Maybe. Though the kid was scrawny. “Let me know if you ever need any lessons.”

Boone grinned. “Not sure I’m willing to risk my life like that, but I’ll keep it in mind.” After a nod, he took off.

A girl—maybe around nineteen or twenty—was talking to Mackenzie, and their conversation was quiet. Everything about the girl was thin. Her body. The hair barely filling out her ponytail. Was she okay? It looked like the world had chewed her up and spit her back out. In contrast, Mackenzie glowed with health and strength.

Jace wasn’t trying to overhear, but their chat filtered in his direction. The girl was asking for an advance on her paycheck.

Mackenzie nodded, listening. “I’ll talk to Luc and Emma, and we’ll let you know.” She squeezed the girl’s arm in a reassuring gesture, and then the little mouse scampered off.

Mackenzie was supposed to train him today. At least that was what Luc had said. Jace wasn’t sure how that would work when she was treating him like a rat in the gutter, but he was game if she was.

The day was sure to be a barrel of fun. Especially since his head was teetering on the edge of a cliff, deciding, without his input, whether to calm down or throw a fit.

Which could be because he’d had a hard time falling asleep last night. Jace wasn’t sure which had caused that symptom—the concussion or the woman in front of him. It was a toss-up. Thoughts of Mackenzie—of the relationship they’d once had—had been resurrected like vivid movies. To the point that he’d finally slept and dreamed about her. Dreamed that he’d stayed in Westbend. That she didn’t hate him.

Things that had consumed his mind when he’d first left to ride bulls and had holed up in an apartment with a few other guys in Billings. And then the rodeo had fully distracted him. And finally, finally the part of him that had been screaming that he’d made a mistake had lightened up. Quieted.

Until now—until seeing Mackenzie again. The need to work, to not spend his days lazing around, might not be worth this headache. And yet the challenge of something new, of helping out Luc and Mackenzie and Emma, still pulled at him.

Jace wasn’t ready to give up a qualified ride yet, even though that was probably exactly what Mackenzie hoped and prayed he would do.

But since Jace’s prayers were the opposite, that left them in a spiritual tug-of-war. Because, as far as Jace knew, God didn’t pick sides. He loved both of them. And the Man upstairs was going to have to work this out. Because Jace didn’t see Mackenzie calling a truce anytime soon.

“Well.” Mackenzie shuffled papers on the table, which held her attention like her favorite pair of boots. Finally she glanced up, regarding him with as much contempt as she might a door-to-door salesman peddling high-priced skin-care products. “I should show you the trails. You might lead some rides, and either way you’ll need to know where the groups are in case of an emergency.”

“Don’t I already know them?” They’d been all over this land together in high school. Had ridden more times than he could count.

Jace had preferred time with Mackenzie over the agony of watching his brother try to figure out how to live after losing part of his leg. It had been pretty awful around his house for a while. When Jace had been eleven, their father had been killed in a bar brawl. Drinking had always been his most important relationship, and his presence in their lives before that had been sporadic. Four years later Evan’s foot and part of his leg had been amputated because of a lawn-mower accident. Mom had struggled—working constantly to support them and pay for Evan’s medical bills.

Jace had escaped to Wilder Ranch all of the time in high school. Kenzie Rae had been his escape. The truth of that made every bruised, broken and sprained muscle or bone he’d experienced riding bulls roar back into existence.

“You’ll know some. But a few are new.” She strode to the door and then paused inside the frame, tapping the toe of her boot with impatience when he didn’t immediately sprint after her. “You coming?”

“Right behind you.”

And that was how it was on the trail, too. Mackenzie led. Jace followed. There was no riding next to each other. No conversation.

Only him trying—and failing—not to notice everything about her. Being relegated to the back seat on the ride gave him the chance to drink her in, to catalog the slight changes that had come with time. Jace had left a girl behind and had come back to find a woman. One who didn’t need him. Didn’t want him. Didn’t know why he’d done what he’d done.

With her dark blond hair slipped through the back of a baseball cap, and wearing a simple gray V-necked T-shirt, jeans and boots, Mackenzie turned casual into a heap of trouble.

They rode enough of the new trails that he gathered what he needed to know between her directions and the hand-drawn map she’d tucked into her back pocket.

When they reached a wide, smooth path that carved through open pasture, she didn’t give him even the slightest heads-up before urging her horse into an all-out gallop.

The smart thing to do would be to let her ride. Enjoy the view. But Jace had never been one to take the easier road.

He nudged his horse into action.

If he’d thought Mackenzie was distracting earlier, seeing her fly wasn’t helping matters.

The flat-out run was worth it—gave him a hint of that risking-it-all feeling—but by the time Mackenzie slowed Buttercup and eased her back into the trees, the dull ache in Jace’s head had ramped up from barely noticeable to jet-engine-roar levels. And his ribs were on fire.

Probably not his best move, since he was supposed to be taking it easy. But not joining Mackenzie would have been painful in other ways. For a few seconds he’d felt young and free. Like they still had their whole futures ahead of them. He missed that, especially now. If Jace couldn’t go back to rodeoing, what would he do with himself?

He’d never been any good at school. Or any job other than the one currently dangling out of his reach.

“You weren’t lying when you said you could ride with one arm.” Mackenzie tossed the comment/compliment over her shoulder as they reached the hot springs and she dismounted. It registered in Jace’s chest, warm and surprising. Getting ahead of yourself, Hawke. She didn’t say she was crazy in love with you, just that you could handle a horse.

Jace mimicked her dismount, needing a second to steady the wavelike motions crashing through his noggin. He’d give a hefty sum of money for an ice pack to press against his wailing ribs, which were none too pleased with his recent activity.

Mackenzie must have realized her mistake in leading them to the hot springs, because her vision bounced from the water, to him, then back.

Yep, you sure did deliver us right back to the past.

They’d been out here plenty of times when they were young. Had stolen kisses in those very waters.

Back then she’d welcomed an advance from him. Even initiated.

Jace wobbled and managed to right himself while Mackenzie was thankfully looking in the other direction. He was far weaker than he should be, which only added to the angry rhythm inside his skull.

He hated being sidelined. Benched. Hated it even more that he didn’t know when or if these concussion side effects would go away or get better.

The arm, the spleen, the ribs—none of that bothered him, because he knew they’d heal. But his noggin had a mind of its own.

He dropped to sit on a rock in the shade and settled his head in his hands. He sensed Kenzie moving but didn’t look up. And then a canteen appeared between his arms.

“Thanks.” He took it, meeting those stormy eyes. She walked toward the hot springs as he drank. The water was cool, crisp and, if he wasn’t mistaken, the faintest taste of her mint Chapstick still coated the lip. He plucked a pill out of his front pocket and shot it down before Mackenzie turned back in his direction.

She studied him as she neared, stopping about five feet away. Enough that he could feel her intense observation, but not so close that she actually stepped foot into his world, his space.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine. Just hot, I guess.” He took another swig.

“Your arm hurting?”

He hadn’t even thought about that slight discomfort today. “Nah. I’m good.”

Except he wasn’t.

Mackenzie was a deer in the forest. Still. Analyzing. Eyes morphing to slits. She’d have him figured out in two seconds flat if this kept up. And for some reason he didn’t want her to. If she knew about the ribs or spleen, that would be fine. But his head felt too...personal. No one knew that Dr. Karvina had advised he quit riding.

I’m going to level with you, Jace. If this were me or one of my sons, I’d quit now. I can’t tell you how many concussions you can survive without permanent damage. It’s not worth the risk. I’ve seen too many lives taken or changed forever by this sport.

His doctor’s advice haunted him. Concussions were a big deal these days. Last year a young rider had committed suicide after one too many. After his death, the autopsy had confirmed he had CTE, a terrible disease that came from repeat trauma to the brain.

Head injuries had messed with his moods, his memory, even his personality. Gunner’s last hit had been a whopper though. But still, no one knew the exact number of concussions that would be okay. Or how many would push a guy over the edge. Ever since the young cowboy had taken his own life, the rules had gotten stricter for all of the riders. It was logical—Jace could admit that. But that didn’t make it easy to think about losing everything.

Which was why so many guys still did what they wanted—still rode when they shouldn’t.

And Jace understood that, too. He wasn’t done riding. It was his life. His people. He’d done it for his brother, but it had become his, and he wasn’t going to quit now.

And he certainly wasn’t going to discuss any of this with Mackenzie. The woman who constantly wanted to kick him in the shins and then slug him.

Maybe he should just explain why he’d left. Get it all out in the open now. She could still hate him then, but at least she’d have answers.

“Kenzie Rae.”

She’d begun pacing back toward the water but now whirled around.

“I have something to say—”

“Don’t.” She bristled, and her finger jabbed in his direction. “Just don’t.”

“You don’t even know what it is!”

“Is it about Wilder Ranch?” Her tone snapped as fast and furious as a snake’s strike.

“Nope.”

“Then I don’t want to hear it.” She mounted up—the equivalent of a kid placing their hands over their ears. “We should get back.”

He didn’t move. Just glued himself to her until she called uncle and wrenched her gaze away.

“I’ve got things to do, Hawke.” The reins twitched in her hands. He’d made her uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure why that ignited a flicker of happiness in his gut. Probably because it meant he still affected her. And since she was under his skin like a chigger, yeah, that eased the sting a bit. “You know your way from here.” She turned her horse. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

And then she left him. Sitting in her dust, her canteen still in his hands, words dying on his tongue that had needed to be said for seven years.

Huh. So that was what that felt like.