Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Monday .
..
The alarm blared, rudely interrupting his deep slumber.
Rake hit the button with force.
Sleep had eluded him most of the night during which he tossed and turned and glared at the glowing dial, the last time at three-twelve.
His mind was tumultuous, overrun with disquieting visions the stunningly beautiful Jorja Ogden, marriage, and a passel of children.
What the ever-lovin' fuck?
She was arriving at seven. The only other appointment on his calendar today was the monthly meeting with Ames who managed the ranch; it began with lunch and would run well into the afternoon.
He threw back the covers, slipped on gym shorts to cover his nakedness, and headed to the kitchen where he preheated the oven and threw together a coffee cake. After it putting it into the oven, he started the coffee and set the timer. A search in the fridge confirmed his worst fears. There was no bacon. Dammit. Skye was still in bed, having returned close to midnight. He grumped all the way back to his room and called his friend Cody, sure she was up. It went to voicemail.
“Mornin', Cody. Seems we have no bacon. Can you bring some if you have it? If not, no worries. Door's open .” He disconnected the call and unlocked the front door. Cody would probably arrive while he was showering and get the eggs started. She knew her way around his kitchen.
He stripped off the shorts and stepped under the spray. A sexual craving surged through him as thoughts returned to Jorja. Yes, he wanted her, plain and simple. That little black bikini yesterday … Damn. His tongue had about hung from his mouth and dislodged when she chucked the long skirt, beamed a daring smile at him, and glided toward the pool, gracefully entering and disappearing underwater .
Jorja had some snap in her garters, showing up as she did at the ranch Friday. Even though he had been vexed, there was a part of him that appreciated how she had gotten his tail all up. She was a real looker. Those luminous hazel eyes gave away just as much as her expressions. Every thought. Every reaction. Did she know that? Hadn't anyone told her she was as easy to read as a map?
And that body … All lean strength.
Willowy, with nice curves.
Damn. During the little he had spent with her, he recognized that she was intuitive, intelligent, and honest. The kiss they had shared at Beugy’s had lit him up.
It was then that he realized that his desire had morphed beyond the physical.
He craved intimacy—an emotional and intellectual connection with her.
Was it possible? He closed his eyes, imagining touching and trailing kisses over that soft-looking, glowing skin of hers and basking in the heat of her eyes as she came apart.
He groaned through clenched teeth as he roughly fisted himself, for the second time in less than twelve hours, then rinsed under cold water and toweled off.
His breathing heaving and body still quaking in the aftermath as he dressed.
He went to the kitchen and poured a coffee, then went outside and thought about last night, after leaving the pool party.
Dinner had been a generous to-go barbecue dinner with all of the fixings and ice-cold beer while watching the first half of Mission Impossible: Final Reckoning
What would have happened if he had returned to the party?
Would he and Jorja have resumed where they left off in the private hall at Beugy’s?
For the first time in a long time, he felt unsettled.
Could it be because Skye was flying to Colorado to spend a month with his brother—Lee, her other favorite uncle—and then starting her first year of college weeks afterward, leaving him alone in the spacious post and beam house?
Or was it due to the fiery woman who had entered his orbit just days ago, causing him to question what he believed to be a perfectly ordered life?
Pangs of loneliness surfaced, uncomfortable and sharp.
He wanted more. At the ripe age of thirty-seven, all of that seemed beyond reach.
Was it?
Recently, he became aware of the ticking clock, thanks in part to Skye saying her piece last night, which also brought up memories of Nell and Luis; they had enjoyed a wonderful marriage.
Until his niece came to live with him, he was a confirmed bachelor, never intending to settle down or have kids.
After adjusting to raising a teenager, he found himself to be the happiest he could remember.
Shortly after Skye was born, Nell and Luis had asked him to step in as guardian should anything happened to them.
He agreed to all of the terms in their will and signed it with them in front of their attorney, never dreaming that the unthinkable would happen.
Luis had been an only.
His extended family fought for custody, but the guardianship order held.
His grieving fourteen-year-old niece came to live with him.
Deeply shaken, Lee took a leave of absence from his job in Pinon Ridge and their parents returned from Europe.
All of them stayed at the ranch for three months, grieving and supporting one another, growing closer than ever.
Nell’s and Luis’ remains were buried in the Carpenter cemetery in the spot Skye chose.
It was an area that was sacred and was to remain untouched by oil and gas and ranching operations.
Rake’s parents guided him in learning the ropes of parenting versus being an uncle.
He learned the best way to approach his closed-up niece was through riding the ranch.
It was during her time in the saddle that she opened up—crying, raging, and reminiscing.
He and Lee took her to pick out her own horse.
She chose a gentle Palomino mare and renamed her Buttercup.
Skye begged to remain at the ranch with him and her horse and to be homeschooled.
Rake fought it, not having the time or confidence to add one more thing to his overflowing plate, but his mom set everything up and kept an eye on her granddaughter’s progress from wherever she was.
Lee helped. A year later, his niece petitioned and received permission from the consolidated high school to participate in classes and activities.
She made friends outside of 4-H but continued to be mostly homeschooled.
Time and frank discussions served Rake and Skye well.
Their relationship solidified as they navigated the path of becoming ward and guardian, forgiving and learning from the failures and celebrating the successes.
It had been miserably difficult at first, but now it was easy, and he loved her as his.
She still spent a fair amount of time up on the elevated topography, under the dappled shade provided by a copse of trees.
She insisted on taking care of the Carpenter cemetery herself and added an appealing perimeter fence and gate that she constructed in his workshop, and wildflowers—her mom’s favorites.
It was beautiful.
His thoughts returned to Jorja.
That confounded woman.
As Skye had inappropriately shared yesterday, Jorja had him in knots.
He was as confused as a goat on astro turf.
She could be as prickly as a porcupine, wrapped up in an alluring woman-package.
Her beauty could stop traffic, but she was smart as a whip and tough as nails because she had to be.
Jorja was working in a profession that was predominantly a man's field.
He had only one choice: to sign with her or someone else. Either or. That was it. Damned Texas law. He had a pretty good idea of what parcels of land the lease would cover. He had copies of the updated seismic surveys.
Was she playing a game with him? His gut said no, that she was as swept up in their intertwined contentious history as he was. How could he yearn for an enemy of the Carpenter family? Because he and Jorja were not enemies. They were the next generation of pawns, as his astute niece had pointed out while they walked to the truck after leaving the party.
“Sorry to pull you away from the Jorja scenery, Uncle.” She teased, bumping her shoulder into his side as they walked to the truck. "I like her. You seem to, too.”
“I don't like her. She's simply a puzzle I'm trying to figure out. A conundrum.”
“Great word. Thanks for the vocab lesson. But I call bullshit.”
“Language, young lady.”
“Seriously? Gimme a break.” Skye sighed dramatically. “What do you expect when I've been raised around you and your employees the last four years, mostly men by the way, who talk like they do?”
“That's no excuse," he said gruffly, admonishing his sassy niece. “Do better, please.”
“You're a might grumpy today. What gives? Oh ... Yes ... Jorja.” She teased, reaching up and popping him lightly on the head, irritating him. “You were practically salivating. There's more to her than those enhanced pretty faces with bodies you usually go for. Like, she's got a brain and gumption. She's naturally beautiful. And tall. You need tall. Why don't you ask her out?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Butt out of my business.”
“Business.” She stopped and faced him, then snapped her fingers. “Oh, yes ... Business. Our family business.” She repeated slowly. “I witnessed the entire thing the other day, you know, when Jorja showed up at the ranch for her appointment with you. Yes, the wrong name was on me, but jeez, when she fell out of the truck, you were a total jerk.”
“Drop it,” he warned.
“No, I won't drop it. I saw the entire thing. I was coming to ask you about something when she pulled in. I hung out in the shade of the Creek House,” she said, referring to the stone homestead structure named for the enchanting brook behind it, which meandered through the shade of trees. “I saw Jorja tumble out of the truck. Took you long enough to help her up.”
Rake ignored Skye’s sarcasm.
“I dug into the files in your office after she left, after you went off to help the wranglers. The same files you have encouraged me to read since I learned that I'm going to own the ranch with you and Uncle Lee. I had no interest before, but I must say that Jorja’s appearance motivated me.”
“Skye, look ? —”
Her hand sliced through the air, surprising him into silence. “I educated myself about our William Carpenter and her Silas Ogden. How many greats are attached to those two men?”
He opened his mouth to answer, but was stopped by her open palm, fingers spread wide and glaring eyes. She was not finished talking.
“It doesn't matter. The point is that Jorja is not responsible for what happened between our forefathers. She didn't do anything to you or to Lee or to me. It was a decision William Carpenter made to hold onto our ranch and to provide future generations of Carpenters with opportunity and security. Silas Ogden helped him do that by purchasing the mineral estates. Then he held onto the estates after the boom began because he was a businessman. You, Lee, and I would have done the same. Mom would have, and I bet others who lived before us would have too. No one should blame Silas Ogden. And you cannot blame Jorja. What's done is done. Neither man knew what the future held in oil and gas or in ranching. They gambled, quite successfully. I've gotta think, beyond their wildest dreams. Ogden-Keller is a titan in oil and gas. The Carpenter Ranch holds the same status in cattle and agribusiness, with a solid foothold in oil and gas despite not owning the majority stake of mineral estates. The ranch is profitable. Am I right? You can respond now, Uncle Rake.”
He had been stung by being made to listen to someone roughly twenty years younger than him, yet as proud as hell about her confidence, ability to handle him, and succinct summary of the history. She was correct. His niece was bossy and intelligent, two traits that would serve her well. Similar to ... Jorja. Damn.
Still irked, he shot Skye an icy look for her impudence and opened the truck door for her. “You're right.” He conceded, squeezing her shoulder, feeling his annoyance evaporate.
Skye leaned in, rose onto her toes, kissed his cheek, then wrinkled her nose. “You need to shave. Call her, Rake. She's totally your caliber. I mean, she's like only one of a handful of women that can match your drive, intelligence, and, uh, appetites.”
“Change the subject before I get aggravated again.” Hell, he already was. He turned on the vehicle, rolled the windows down, and cranked up the air container. Fuck, it was hot as hades. Or was it his temper? He waited outside the truck until it cooled. “You're out of line and in my personal business now.”
“Well, someone needs to be. I know you really well, better than I ever expected to. You've put a lot on hold since becoming my guardian, but I'm heading off to college soon and you're going to miss me. You need to return to living as a whole person. You need a woman, not a series of booty calls. You're almost forty.”
“I'm thirty-seven." He corrected her through clenched teeth, getting into the truck.
Skye got in on her side and snorted. “You'll be thirty-eight soon. Like I said. Closer to forty than thirty. You need someone to partner with. Someone strong. Jorja comes to mind. Also, I think some having kids would be good for you.”
He yanked the steering wheel to the left and glared at her before gunning the truck onto the main road. He reduced speed, exhaled slowly, and kept his tone deceptively neutral, immediately regretting the question. “Kids? And you think this why?”
“Because I know. Remember Nell Carpenter-Alamilla? My mother? Your sister? I have her gift.”
A chill crept up his spine. The Carpenter women had a knack for knowing things that went back as far as he remembered. Now he understood why this conversation with his eighteen-year-old niece was happening. Because Skye was indeed like her mother, wise beyond her years, with more horse sense than most people he'd ever met. God how he missed his sister.
“Jorja lives in Landry. We got off on the wrong foot.” Shit. He just gave his niece, who believed that she had all of the answers, another inch in.
“You got off on more than wrong foot, but you can fix that. You have a lot to work with. Charm, when you want to use it, and intelligence. Sensitivity under that he-man exterior. Women love that combination in a man.”
“Skye …” The conversation was entering the awkward zone.
“You can be fun. Hell, you make me laugh when I don’t want to. And you're handsome as fuck, with a body women would pay dearly to sleep with.”
“Skye!” He was stunned and miserably uncomfortable.
“My bad,” she said, giggling and clearly pleased with herself. “But I have your full attention now. I see the women who drool and pant, stop in their tracks to stare and admire. You're hot, Uncle Rake. You have a wild sense of humor that I sense Jorja would enjoy. Landry is only three hours. She travels all over Texas for work and can office from anywhere. There's plenty of space in our house to add another office.”
“No more discussion. I'm not askin ' Jorja Ogden out. I am not going to date, marry, or impregnate her. I'm content with my life but appreciate your concern.”
“Well, time will tell. Mom, Dad, Uncle Lee, and you … Every single adult in my life has told me ‘Never say never.’”
Out of the mouth of a babe. Based on her track record, Skye might be right, which meant he was probably fucked.