It Had to Be Him Page 8

  “I was hoping you’d lead this time.”

  She flashed a smile the way she used to for a second before she shut it down. Maybe he was making progress.

  “No dancing and no kissing, Josh. Let go. Haley has an appointment to see Ben in a few minutes.”

  He spun her around to face him. “She’s sick?”

  “She has asthma. It was getting better, but something about being here at the lake has triggered her symptoms again.”

  “I had asthma. Grew out of it when I was in middle school.”

  “Really?” Megan’s eyes softened as a slow smile lit her face. “Maybe Haley will grow out of it too, then?”

  “Probably.”

  “God, that’s such a relief. Gotta go.”

  “See you tonight.” Guilt stabbed him square in the heart when he’d seen the worry Megan carried about the asthma. Something he could have maybe helped relieve if he’d been around. But how to get her to let him help her now?

  While watching Megan’s curvy jean-shorts-clad butt disappear through the swinging doors, a plan to get her and Haley that new car took shape in his mind. He scooped up his dishes and took them to the sink. After rinsing them off, he placed the plates and glasses into the big stainless steel washer.

  Casey popped up behind him and corrected his placement. “Where’d a guy like you get such good manners?”

  By growing up in a group home and then living his adult life alone—except for his time with Meg. “I bought them on the Internet. Speaking of which, can I use your computer? The Wi-Fi isn’t working in my room. But that’s probably on purpose, right?”

  “Yep. What do you need?”

  “I want to close that bank account so Megan can’t return the money to me. Then I was going to buy her a new car. I wanted to look at some prices before I go in to negotiate. Is there a dealer nearby?”

  Casey’s brows spiked. “There’s a Ford dealer in the next town south. You can use the computer in my office.” As she led the way, Casey glanced over her shoulder. “If you really want to help her, stop by the lumber store near the car dealer. She needs materials for a thirty-foot dock. Have them deliver everything to the old Benson place. They’ll know where that is. But you can’t buy Megan’s love, Josh. You have to earn it.”

  She’d finally used his first name. Maybe he was making progress with Casey too. Something told him he’d have to gain her trust before he won Megan over completely. “I’m not trying to buy anything. I just want them both safe. Why does Meg need a dock?”

  “It’s not my place to tell. But you’d have a better chance of her taking a dock than the car. She’ll only make you take it back.”

  “Not if she doesn’t know it came from me.”

  After their visit with Ben, Megan fastened Haley’s life jacket and tucked her in front of the Jet Ski. “All set?”

  “Go fast, Momma!” Haley squeezed Meg’s legs in anticipation.

  “You got it.” Meg pushed off from Grandma’s dock and then cranked the gas. Haley’s squeals of pleasure put a smile on Meg’s face. Haley craved speed as much as she did. The shot Ben had given Haley earlier had perked her right back up to her normal self.

  What would it hurt to take a little extra time out on the lake before they got started on the house for the day? Until her loan came through, and please God let that happen, she couldn’t afford to buy materials to get started on anything serious anyway.

  She spotted a familiar ski boat and headed that way so they could do some wake jumping. The boat belonged to the hotel, and her friend Toby would be at the helm. The first guy she’d ever slept with.

  Bleached-blond and gorgeous, Toby had told her right up front he was a man-whore and always would be. He didn’t commit, but he’d show her a good time whenever she wanted it.

  Strangely, he was the only former lover she was still friends with. Probably because he’d told her the truth. She valued that the most in people.

  When they got closer, he lifted a hand in greeting. A kid skiing behind the boat shrieked with pleasure.

  Meg circled around and then headed straight into the excellent swells. Haley’s little hands dug into Meg’s thighs as they went airborne, but as soon as they landed she shouted, “Do it again!”

  They jumped a few more waves until the kid skiing hit the water hard. As the towboat slowed and the waves settled, she headed toward the boy to be sure he was okay. As they got closer, the kid’s widened eyes and gaping mouth told her he’d probably gotten the wind knocked out of him.

  Meg slowed the engine and drifted toward him.

  The kid barely squeaked out, “Can’t breathe.”

  She grabbed the back of his life jacket and pulled him up out of the water a bit, sending him a reassuring smile. “Lift your arms over your head and try to relax. You’ll be good in just a minute. Does anything hurt?”

  The kid shook his head as he lifted his arms.

  Haley patted his shoulder. “Fill the tummy balloon as big as you can.”

  The kid frowned in confusion at Haley, but then after a few attempts he was finally able to draw a deep breath. Megan let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding right along with him. “You okay now?”

  The boy smiled. “Yeah. That was scary. Thanks.”

  Toby maneuvered the boat beside them and Megan helped the kid onboard. She recognized the boy’s father. He owned half the real estate in Manhattan and was a regular customer.

  Once they determined the boy was fine, Mr. Randall held out his hand for a shake. “Thanks for the rescue, Megan. Toby tells us you’re opening up a lodge on the other side of the lake?”

  Meg glanced at Toby, who sent her an eyebrow hitch and a cute grin.

  She shook Mr. Randall’s hand. “Yes, I’m hoping it’ll be done in a few months.”

  “How many will it sleep? My wife wanted to organize a little getaway with her sisters and their families here in September. But someone has already bought the hotel out for the week we wanted.”

  Yay. Maybe her first customer. “I’m still remodeling, but barring any difficulties, I hope to have four master suites, and a couple of rooms with singles and bunk beds for the kids. It’s going to be a little more rustic than the hotel, though.”

  “Great. Casey knows the dates. Go ahead and bill my account for booking the reservation.”

  “You got it. Thanks, Mr. Randall. You guys have fun.” Megan mouthed a silent “thank you” to Toby and drove off, probably grinning like a lunatic. Because the hotel offered to let their privacy-craving customers buy out the whole place, the customers were used to paying a non-refundable third of the fee. That was just one more good thing about catering to the rich.

  “Haley-Bug, we’re one step closer to getting the money we need to fix up our new house. A few more reservation deposits like that and we’ll be on our way!”

  “Yay!” Haley clapped her hands as if she knew what Meg was talking about. How great was it that her daughter was happy just because Meg was? A far cry from the relationship she had with her father. Thank God her sister and Grandma had been there for her growing up. Probably she should remember to thank them for that.

  As they pulled up to their rickety dock, Meg spotted a pile of building materials stacked neatly near the shore. After she freed herself and Haley from their life jackets and unloaded their supplies, they went to check out the stack. It was everything she’d need for her new dock. An invoice weighted down by a rock lay on top.

  She studied the paid receipt, looking for any clues as to who would have been nice enough to buy her the materials anonymously. Maybe Zeke. He’d seen how bad and a little bit dangerous the dock was. Nothing on the paper gave it away. She’d figure it out and then pay whoever it was back after she got the loan.

  Just as she was thinking that moving back home might not be so bad, a voice that had the same effect on her as fingernails trailing down a chalkboard made her cringe.

  “Well, there you are, Meg. Funny how you’ve been back
for days and we haven’t run into each other.”

  Not funny. On purpose.

  She slowly stood as Haley attached herself to Meg’s legs as if Cruella de Vil were approaching. “Hey, Amber. How are you?”

  Amber navigated her way down the grassy hill toward them in her ice pick heels. She hadn’t changed a bit. Long blonde hair, tall and thin like a model, but with silicone-enhanced curves in all the right places and a fake, stiff smile. Like a Barbie on Botox.

  Amber always dressed as if attending a swanky cocktail party. Probably because there weren’t any of those in Anderson Butte unless Amber was throwing one. “I wanted to be sure you knew about the fund-raiser for the new children’s section at the library we’re holding tomorrow. Everyone’s coming.” Amber leaned down and said to Haley, “There’ll be lots of fun games for you, sweetheart. And I’m just dying to meet your daddy.”

  Haley’s head whipped up. “My daddy?”

  Frickin’ Amber. She’d done that on purpose. “We’ll talk about that later. Why don’t you go grab a juice box from the backpack while I talk to Mrs. Downey?”

  Haley frowned as she slowly headed toward the backpack that lay under a nearby pine tree.

  Amber’s eyes got fake big and she threw her hand over her mouth. Probably to hide her evil sneer. “Oh, Meg. I’m so sorry. I’d forgotten Haley doesn’t know who her father is. But I hear he’s a real looker. And he’s moving here . . . but doesn’t have a job?”

  The condescension in Amber’s voice raised Meg’s hackles. “Yeah, so maybe Haley and I will stop by tomorrow if we have time. Thanks.”

  “If it’d be embarrassing for you to come and not be able to make a donation, we still need someone to work the ice cream booth from twelve till one.”

  The old Meg might have “accidentally” poked Amber in the chest and made her totter off her ridiculous heels. But Haley was watching. “The ice cream booth is always fun. Sign me up.”

  Her evil deed for the day accomplished, Amber beamed a satisfied grin. “If your ex is looking for a place to stay, my guesthouse is available. Maybe I can even find a way for a good-looking guy to work off his rent. See you tomorrow.”

  Meg’s blood boiled as she watched Amber slither away like the snake she was. Amber’s not-so-thinly veiled reference to the time she’d slept with Meg’s boyfriend in high school and then later married him had hit its intended target.

  That woman, married or not, would probably love to get her hands on Josh just to irritate Meg. A week ago, that wouldn’t have bothered her a bit. She would have told Amber they deserved each other and good riddance.

  Now she wasn’t so sure. It seemed Josh had been more invested in their relationship than he’d let on back then. And there’d been other small changes in him too. When he’d mentioned dancing with her, which he hated to do, she’d almost accepted just to see if he’d really do it. Luckily, her brain did its job and reminded her heart not to engage.

  He’d only hurt her again.

  Josh ran through his to-do list quicker than expected. By noon, he’d scratched off: buy Meg a car, set in place a plan to make it look like Meg won the car, and have materials for a new dock delivered. The last remaining item was the one he had the most trepidation about.

  Anderson Butte was only a few hours away from the ranch where he’d grown up after his mother had died. He’d never known who his father was. It had been just him and his mother in their small apartment. Looking back, they were probably poor, but the complex had a pool and a park nearby where they played and had fun.

  But then one day, his mother never showed to pick him up from school. The principal had stayed and waited with him until it had become dark, then a stranger came for him and took him to his house. After the apartment manager let them in, the lady who’d picked him up told him to pack a bag of clothes and that he’d never see his mother again because she’d been killed by a man who’d robbed the store where she worked. At six years old he’d become a ward of the state, moving from place to place until he’d ended up at the ranch.

  The few memories he still had of his mother were good ones.

  He didn’t have many fond memories of the ranch, though, and little desire to relive the painful ones, but he needed to close out the circle. Return to that part of his past and do something good for those boys who were like he’d been. Make a positive out of one of the biggest negatives of his life.

  And maybe Charlie would still be around.

  Mr. Jennings, the only decent counselor he’d ever had, had seemed genuinely happy to hear from him when Josh had called earlier and mentioned he’d like to lend a hand in some way and that he might stop by if he had time.

  So, no more stalling.

  Josh climbed into his truck and headed south.

  With each mile he traveled closer to the ranch, childhood memories of uncertainty and fear about his future kicked around in his gut. Sometimes he’d make himself so sick with worry it’d bring on another asthma attack. If it hadn’t been for Charlie, he’d never have survived all the years there. So, he’d embrace his current physical discomfort, file it away, then use it for when it was his turn to help some lost kid in return.

  After just under two hours, he approached the tiny town near the ranch, noting the stark contrast between it and Anderson Butte. The neglect, the boarded-up shops, the tumbleweeds, and the pothole-lined streets. There was no nearby lake or hotel for tourism. It was just another of the fast-disappearing small towns in northern New Mexico.

  Bumping down the narrow excuse for a road, he finally spotted the familiar sideways double Ds seared into the weathered wood that framed the entrance to the Lazy D’s Ranch.

  As he pulled up to the main house, a group of boys tending to a broken fence stopped working. Four sets of eyes, all sending him suspicious glares, tracked his progress as he parked and got out of the truck. Newcomers usually brought bad news. Either one of their friends was being shipped somewhere else or heading off to a trial and they’d never see the kid again. Or it might be a new counselor. Someone twice as mean as the last one.

  “Hey, guys.” Josh lifted a hand in greeting as he approached the tatted-up teens. “Mr. Jennings around?”

  The biggest kid in the group crossed his inked-up arms over his puffed chest. “Who wants to know?”

  There’d been kids just like this one when he’d lived here too. Mr. Tough Shit.

  Just as Josh was about to answer, a familiar voice rang out. “Granger? That you?”

  When Josh turned around and spotted the man he’d come to see, he smiled. Mr. Jennings didn’t seem so big and imposing anymore; he looked . . . old. Still the same shaggy haircut but with streaks of gray now. What he’d used to think of as arms as big as tree stumps had gone a little flabby with age and his belly had followed along the same path. But the ever-present kindness in his pale-blue eyes hadn’t changed.

  “Good to see you again, Mr. Jennings.” Josh held out his hand for a shake, but Mr. J gave him a bear hug.

  “Great to see you, Josh.” He released him, then shook his head. “How did a scrawny little kid like you turn out looking like a ripped NFL player?”

  Determination to never be the one others picked on ever again. “Just a late bloomer, I guess.”

  When Jennings leaned back to study Josh more closely, his eyes grew wide. “What happened to your face?”

  “Forgot to duck. How are things around here?”

  “About the same.” Mr. Jennings turned to the kids, who were obviously curious but trying to look too cool to care. “Say hello to Mr. Granger, guys. He grew up here too.”

  Two of them sneered but the other two lifted their chins in greeting. After figuring out Josh wasn’t a threat, they all went back to fixing the fence. The big guy told the others what to do while he watched.

  Mr. Jennings tilted his head and started walking toward the barn. “There’s a boy I’d like you to meet. Reminds me an awful lot of you.”

  Josh wanted to ask about Charlie, but
he’d know soon enough if he was still there.

  Jennings lowered his voice. “This kid lost his mother in a car accident. Father was a cop killed in the line of duty a few years before his mom died. Eric is older than you were when you first arrived, though. He’s ten. His grandmother is his only relative, but had a stroke and is rehabbing, so she can’t care for him. We’re hoping it’s just temporary. He had a little brother and sister who died in the accident too. Talks about his family in his sleep sometimes. The others tease him for it, as you can imagine.”

  It was always harder on the kids who knew what it was like to come from a nice home. Josh didn’t remember the details much, but somehow knew his mom must’ve cared.

  Jennings said, “He’s only been here a few months. Hasn’t had time to develop the hard shell, you know? Since school got out for summer he spends all his time out here with Buck, my manager, and the horses. I suspect he’s getting bullied more than he lets on, but whenever I draw him aside and ask, he says he’s fine. I’d appreciate it if you could talk with him. You’d understand better than anyone else.”

  “I can try.” The barn needed a coat of stain, but otherwise was just as Josh remembered. Two long rows of stalls, a hayloft, and tack room. Metal feed buckets stacked in the same corner on the dusty earthen floor. All the stalls were empty, their gates standing open. Dust motes hung in the air above the last stall on the end, and the clang of a shovel against a wheelbarrow meant the mucking out was almost done for the day. He used to hate that part of caring for the horses, but now his hands itched to help.

  A skinny, dark-haired kid bobbed his head in time to whatever his earbuds played as he leaned down for the last of the mess.

  Mr. J said, “These kids. Pump music into their ears so loud they’ll be deaf by the time they’re twenty. Can’t ever get their attention anymore without scaring the crap out of them.” He tapped on the kid’s shoulder.

  The boy’s thin frame stiffened before he slowly turned around, his grip tightening on the shovel. The quick flash of recognition in his eyes had the kid quickly lowering the shovel before he tugged his left earbud out.