Kayla's Cowboy. Callie Endicott
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another message on voice mail when no one had picked up.
Maybe Jackson would be more reasonable than the last time they’d really spoken. After all, there was a vast difference between a grown man and a boy confronted with his girlfriend’s unwanted pregnancy. On the other hand, Jackson hadn’t returned either of her calls, despite her saying it was urgent, so maybe he was as pigheaded as ever.
Rather than wait, she’d decided to drive out to the ranch before someone mentioned Alex’s resemblance to Jackson or his family. She didn’t care if it embarrassed Jackson, but it would be rotten for his daughter to learn something of that sort from anyone but her father. And the McGregors had been nice people. They hadn’t approved of her, but that didn’t mean she wanted them to be blindsided by gossip.
Parking in front of the house, Kayla climbed from the car and straightened her shoulders. The two-story structure was surprising—too new and modern to fit the open, rolling land. But the two vehicles parked to one side—a huge black SUV and a pickup truck—fit with every stereotype she’d ever had of Montana ranchers.
The doorbell seemed loud and tension crawled up her spine as light footsteps approached...definitely not those of a man of Jackson’s size.
The door opened, revealing a woman with iron-gray hair and a stiff expression. Probably a housekeeper. Grams had mentioned that Jackson was divorced from Marcy Lipton.
“Yes?”
“I’d like to speak with Jackson McGregor,” Kayla said.
The woman assessed her up and down. “Name?” If she was the housekeeper, she hadn’t been chosen for her personality.
“Kayla Anderson.”
“I’ll let him know you’re here.”
The door swung partly shut, but from the little Kayla could see of the house’s interior, it was more of what she’d expect to see on a ranch—big comfortable leather furniture and a pair of women’s riding boots near the fireplace. A lady friend’s boots, or did they belong to Jackson’s daughter? Impatiently she pushed the thought away.
Heavier footsteps sounded, then the door opened again and Jackson’s tall, powerful frame filled the space.
“Hello, Kayla. What do you want?” His expression was less friendly than it had been the day before.
“I have something to discuss with you.”
“We have nothing to talk about, last night or today.”
She pressed her lips together, a remnant of her old anger at him surfacing, but she pushed it away. They weren’t kids any longer; it was the present that mattered.
“You’re wrong. Is your daughter here?”
His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “She’s in her bedroom.”
“Then, we should speak someplace more private. How about Riverside Park at ten?” she asked.
Kayla still hoped to protect the youngster from accidental discoveries...such as the way Alex had learned that Curtis had adopted him. How could her ex-husband have been so careless? He’d told his new stepson about the adoption. Had he expected Brant would keep it to himself?
Of all the rotten things that could have happened, Alex learning the truth from his stepbrother was one of the lousiest. Kayla had met Brant a few times and her son was right, the kid was obnoxious.
Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re so sure we have something to discuss, why didn’t you let me know you were coming to Schuyler? I don’t appreciate being ambushed.”
She kept her temper with an effort. Honestly, did he think the entire world revolved around him? His old-fashioned attitudes hadn’t bothered her in high school, but they didn’t go down well now.
“Forty-eight hours ago I didn’t know I was coming to Montana, and this isn’t something that can wait. Now, do you really want to have this discussion within earshot of your daughter?” she asked in a voice that wasn’t quite a whisper.
Jackson’s eyes darkened. “Fine. Ten at the county park. I’ll see you there.”
“Make sure of it,” she said calmly. “I’m not going away just because you don’t want to deal with this.”
Head held high, Kayla walked to her car, climbed in and drove away, only relaxing her posture after the house was out of sight.
Fifteen minutes later she parked in the lot near the group picnic site, a sense of unreality coming over her. How could she be back in Schuyler? Two days ago she’d spent the afternoon with her manager debating whether to hire a new insurance billing specialist. To unwind, she’d stopped at a friend’s house to visit, only to have Melinda talk about fixing Kayla up with her recently divorced brother. Kayla had paid less attention to her friend’s matchmaking than usual; she’d been missing the kids and thinking about their pleas to go camping at Yellowstone that summer.
Then her cell phone had rung. It had been Curtis, telling her that he hadn’t seen Alex that day, but he was sure everything was fine.
“It’s after 7:00 p.m.,” she’d screamed, panic overwhelming her. “You don’t know where he’s been since he went to bed last night?”
“We just... I mean, Brant and I left early to go kayaking. We invited Alex to go with us, but he wanted to sleep in. I’m sure it’s just normal teenage independence, going off and doing his own thing. About time, if you ask me.”
“I didn’t ask you,” she’d snapped. “Where was DeeDee all day?”
“At a friend’s place.”
Bitterly, Kayla had wanted to point out that the kids were there to have time with their father, not to spend the day alone or with their friends. But she had stayed silent, her first priority being Alex. She’d rushed home. Frantically searching his room for a clue, she had finally spotted a note peeking out from under his computer keyboard, possibly in hopes it wouldn’t be found for a while.
Her son’s claim he’d gone to Montana had seemed so incredible that she’d wasted precious time contacting his best friend to confirm it. Sandy had reluctantly admitted to getting an email from Alex, explaining he was on his way to Schuyler, but that his phone was nearly dead, so he’d be out of contact until he could recharge it. After calling police stations, sheriff’s offices and hospitals from Seattle to Schuyler, Kayla had collected a sleepy DeeDee from Curtis’s house and headed for Montana herself.
Part of her wanted to strangle her ex-husband, but it was also her fault. She’d known they should tell Alex the truth about the adoption from the beginning, but she’d been in love and it was what Curtis had wanted as his wedding gift. And yet when she’d called him the night before to explain why Alex had run away, Curtis had said, “Oh, well, I guess it’s best he knows.”
Forcing herself into the present, Kayla watched the clock on the dashboard tick off the minutes. At ten the black pickup truck she’d seen next to Jackson’s house pulled up and she got out of the Volvo.
“I only came because I don’t want my daughter overhearing any nonsense,” Jackson growled as he marched around the hood of his Chevy. He was the classic image of a rancher—lean, skin tanned, wearing jeans, a worn shirt, boots and a cowboy hat pushed back on his head.
“It isn’t nonsense,” Kayla said evenly. “And remember I’m the one who tried to be considerate by suggesting we meet elsewhere.”
“Considerate would be leaving me alone.”
“No, considerate would have been listening sixteen years ago instead of dismissing me and saying I slept around.”
Jackson made a visible effort to calm down. “Kayla, I realize things must have been difficult for you and I’m sorry about that, but you can’t expect me to take responsibility for someone else’s child.”
She gave him a narrow look.