The Rancher's Spittin' Image. Peggy Moreland
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headed?”
Gabe scratched his head again. “Cain’t rightly say, though he did have his fishin’ pole with him.”
Mandy dropped her arms to her sides and rolled her eyes heavenward. “I swear I’m going to chain that boy to the house if he doesn’t stop slipping off like this without getting his chores done first.”
“Now, Miss Mandy,” Gabe began.
“Don’t you ‘Miss Mandy’ me,” she scolded, shaking an accusing finger beneath his nose. “You know as well as I do that chores come first and it’s high time Jaime started acting more responsibly. He’s twelve years old, after all, and you and the boys have got to quit covering for him.” When Gabe dipped his chin, she let out a huff of breath. “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she muttered. “Don’t give me that hangdog look.”
Gabe lifted his head a tad, just high enough to peer at Mandy from beneath a thick overhang of bushy brows. “The boy’s just got a touch of spring fever, is all. He’s entitled to play hooky now and again. He’s a good kid.”
If missing his chores had been the only reason for her anger, Mandy might have agreed with Gabe, because Jaime was a good kid. But below the anger lay a thick layer of fear. She wanted to keep her son close to home and out of harm’s way until she knew for certain that Jesse Barrister had left town.
Hooking an arm through Gabe’s, she headed for the barn again. “I know. It’s just that—”
At that moment, Mandy heard the pounding of hoofbeats and looked back over her shoulder to see two riders loping across the pasture toward them. She immediately recognized Jaime’s sorrel mare and relief weakened her knees. She shifted her gaze, squinting against the glaring sunlight in an attempt to identify the other rider.
As recognition dawned, she dug her fingers into Gabe’s arm. “Oh, my God! It’s Jesse!”
“Don’t you worry none, Miss Mandy,” Gabe hurried to assure her. “I’ll handle this.”
Mandy stood at Gabe’s side, watching as the riders drew near. “No,” she murmured in a low voice as she withdrew her arm from his. “No,” she repeated with a shake of her head. “I need to deal with this alone.”
Though she could see that Gabe wanted to argue the point, he gave in with a sigh of defeat. “I’ll be in the barn,” he told her as he turned away. “If you need me, all you gotta do is give me a holler.”
“Thanks, Gabe,” she whispered, her gaze riveted on her son’s face. She watched as he slowed his horse to first a trot, then a walk, studying his expression in an attempt to see if he showed any signs of physical or emotional damage. But all she saw was a reddening of his cheeks and downcast eyes that spoke of nothing but guilt.
But one look at Jesse’s face and she knew that her secret was out. Dark accusing eyes pierced her from beneath the shadow of his black Stetson. Quickly she averted her gaze, focusing on her son again as the two riders reined their horses to a stop in front of her.
“Is there a problem?” she asked.
Jaime kept his head down, refusing to answer.
“I caught the boy trespassing on Barrister land,” Jesse replied tersely.
Mandy’s mouth fell open. “Jaime McCloud! What in heaven’s name were you doing on the Circle Bar?”
If possible, Jaime’s chin dug a deeper hole in his chest. “I didn’t mean no harm,” he muttered miserably. “I was just doin’ a little fishin’.”
“Whether you meant harm or not, you were breaking the rules. Both the Barristers’ and mine.” She firmed her lips to keep them from trembling, already fearing the repercussions of her son’s disobedience. “Take your horse to the barn and ask Gabe to take care of him for you, then I want you to go straight to the house and wait for me there.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled dejectedly and turned his horse toward the barn to do her bidding.
Mandy watched Jaime ride away, feeling the heat of Jesse’s gaze on her back. Swallowing hard, she turned to face him.
Looking at him was difficult, for he hadn’t changed much over the years, his handsome face the mirror image of her son’s. All the old memories, the conflicting emotions he’d left her with, came rushing back and she steeled herself against their sting. “I apologize for my son’s behavior and I assure you this will never happen again.”
“He’s mine, isn’t he?”
The chilling words sent ice through Mandy’s veins. Though she had feared this confrontation and had done everything in her power to avoid it, nothing had prepared her for the hate she saw in Jesse’s eyes. At that moment, she knew she stood to lose Jaime, the son she had given birth to and raised on her own. But denying Jesse’s accusation would do no good. “Jaime is a McCloud,” she told him firmly. “I gave birth to him and I raised him alone without help from you or anybody else.”
Which answered at least one of the questions that had haunted Jesse on the long ride to the Double-Cross. Mandy had never married.
“Through no fault of mine,” Jesse returned. He swung down from the saddle, fisting his hand in the reins as he strode to face her, his face contorted in anger. “Why didn’t you tell me I had a son?”
“Tell you!” Mandy repeated, taking a disbelieving step back. “You weren’t here, remember? You took off without telling anyone where you’d gone.”
Knowing she was right only made Jesse that much more angry. “I’m here now,” he warned. “And I intend to claim the boy as my own.”
When he whirled in the direction of the barn, Mandy lunged, grabbing for his arm. “Jesse, wait!” He snapped his head around, his eyes burning a hole in the fingers that held his arm. Mandy quickly dropped her hand to her side. “Please,” she begged him. “Don’t do this.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Why? Are you ashamed for the boy to know that his father is half-Mexican?”
Mandy’s eyes filled with frustrated tears. “No, it isn’t that. It’s just that he’s so young, he wouldn’t understand.”
“What wouldn’t he understand? That I’m his father or that his mother has kept that secret from him all these years?” Jesse took a threatening step closer. “Which is it, Mandy? Or has the boy never questioned his father’s absence?”
Mandy closed her eyes and pressed her trembling fingers to her temples. “He’s asked questions,” she murmured. “I explained his Spanish heritage to him, but I told him that his father died before he was born.”
“And I would be dead if Lucas’s aim had been a little better.”
Mandy paled at the memory.
“But I didn’t die, Mandy,” he reminded her. “I’m here and I’m going to claim my son whether you like it or not.” He moved to his horse and swung up in the saddle. Folding his arms across the saddle horn, he leaned down, putting his face within a foot of Mandy’s. “You’ve got twenty-four hours. You can pick the time and you can pick the place, but we’re going to tell him. When you’ve made your decision, you can reach me at the bunkhouse on the Circle Bar.”
Having issued the ultimatum, Jesse swung his horse around in a tight circle, dug his spurs into the gelding’s sides and galloped off, leaving Mandy staring after him in a cloud of choking dust
“Did you know he was my son?”
Pete draped his bridle over a hook and turned to Jesse on a weary sigh. “I suspected as much, though I never knowed for sure. The McClouds are pretty tightlipped about their personal affairs.”
“So no one knows?”
Pete lifted a shoulder before dragging his saddle off his horse’s lathered