Chapter Eleven
Jackson yawned, the steady up-and-down sway of his horse nearly sending him to sleep.
It was his own fault he was so exhausted.
To avoid Hope around the ranch, he had busied himself with endless chores just to get away from her.
Then he’d awaken the next morning to find Hope had taken over even more of his work, and he’d have to find something else to do.
He had been astounded at her work ethic.
Her slight frame and beauty in no way deterred her from dealing with an unruly chicken or a stubborn water pump.
After teaching her about the cream, even Kitten and Black Cat seemed to prefer her company.
Hope was simply everywhere, so Jackson’s days out riding the ranch had grown far longer than they had previously been.
He’d drag himself home after dark, scarf down whatever delicious meal she’d left him in the kitchen, then stay up reading by the fire, just for some quiet time alone in his own house.
He felt like a fool, but every time Hope came near him, his chest tightened and he struggled for air.
He’d sniffed at her a bit when she wasn’t looking, just to make sure it wasn’t any perfume she was wearing.
It simply seemed to be her presence in his home that unnerved him, and he thought that was partly because she was so beautiful, so graceful, and so capable.
It was like having a rare pearl hung on a rough piece of string.
She simply didn’t fit into his world, and he didn’t know where to look when he sensed her hazel eyes on him, watching his every move.
Jackson hadn’t minded looking at and talking with her when she was Ethan’s bride-to-be. But now that she was Mrs. Hale, he felt responsible for her, and so the safest thing to do was shove her in a drawer and hide her away, as he would that rare pearl.
Then there’d been the roast beef and apple pie ambush, and that was when he knew that his Ma was helping Hope corner him.
If the two of them were working together, there was no escaping his new wife with the blonde curls that gently framed her face as her rosy lips smiled at him.
How was he supposed to maintain control over his ranch and its growing problems when he couldn’t even make a cup of coffee around Hope without spilling it?
Jackson had even considered sleeping in the barn, but he knew that would hurt Hope if she found out. Suddenly, his horse stopped walking, and Jackson was forced to focus on his surroundings.
“Well now, Horse, why are we stopping?” he asked, taking stock of where they’d stopped.
The horse snorted at him and clapped its shoes against the worn path, shaking its mane.
They had been following a fence line across a grassy prairie beyond the ranch house and toward the creek.
The cattle and sheep usually wandered around this area in search of the new shoots of grass that appeared after the spring melt.
The problem was, there was no sign of any cattle here now.
“I see,” Jackson said, swinging off and landing with a thud. “More broken fencing. Good find, Horse.”
He walked the length of the section of damaged fencing. The posts were snapped and the wooden rails were scattered around in the grass. He scanned the ground for any out-of-place footprints, or other signs of a perpetrator, but found nothing.
Jackson stroked his short beard while he thought.
He couldn’t be certain if the cattle had just rammed through the fencing in search of better grazing, or if something had frightened them enough to do so.
Either way, the fence would need repairing.
A sick feeling in the pit of his stomach started growing, and he knew that he was a fool if he continued to believe the recent chain of events was simply a coincidence.
A name crossed his mind, and he sincerely hoped he was wrong.
A distant moo alerted Jackson to the location of the missing cattle.
“Horse!” he called with a click of his tongue, quickly grabbing the reins as he scanned the fields in the distance.
He was about to mount when his ears pricked at the thump of horse hooves trotting along the path.
He reached for the gun on his back as he squinted into the late morning sunlight, but the swish of a loose braid hanging over one shoulder and pale pink skirts alerted him to the identity of the approaching rider.
“Hope,” he muttered, his stomach flitting as though he had fallen off Horse.
What was it about the sight of her that made his heart pound in his chest?
‘You like her.’ His mind whispered the answer back at him.
Jackson tried to shake it off, determined to try and keep the distance between them, but she was proving herself perfectly able to track him by horse as well.
She rode up to him, and Jackson found himself admiring her regal form in the saddle.
Hope had selected one of his handsome geldings and rode with the confidence of someone with ample experience. Was there anything she couldn’t do?
“Jackson,” she said by way of greeting, giving him a nod. “I thought I’d ride out with you this morning and see some more of the ranch.”
Despite avoiding her, something about her seeking him out made him smile.
He realized he was standing there gawking up at her, so he quickly closed his mouth and nodded at her, muttering something unintelligible even to himself.
He adjusted his hat and swung up onto Horse so he would at least be on level ground with her, shifting his weight in the saddle.
Horse started doing circles, as if he was picking up on Jackson’s nerves and deliberately trying to embarrass him.
“Horse, stop now,” Jackson chastised him.
Thankfully Hope had her back to him, studying the broken fencing. He gave Horse a stern look and clicked his tongue, but the creature simply snorted in response, walking Jackson closer to Hope.
“What happened?” Hope asked, oblivious to Jackson’s predicament. “Did any of your herd escape?”
Jackson nodded, thumping Horse in the side with the heel of his boot. “I was about to track them.”
“I’ll help-”
“It’s not safe for you. The cattle might frighten your horse-” He stopped when Horse started walking away, cutting Jackson off mid-sentence.
How was he supposed to point out she might lose control of her horse when his own horse was refusing to behave? Hope smiled at them both, her cheeks a little flushed from the cold morning air.
“I can handle myself on a horse,” Hope cut him off as she urged the gelding forward, following him. “And I can help you herd the cattle home. It’ll be easier with two of us.”
Jackson stared at her, the blonde in her hair glinting in the sunlight. Though she was beautiful, he was starting to see a layer of determination and capability beyond her beauty, and that was something he found he could relate to. It was something that made her seem less intimidating in his eyes.
Despite himself, he grinned at her and spurred Horse on. If there was no escaping Hope, he’d have had to find some way or another to live around her.
Jackson led them through the field, the thick grass tall enough to brush their boots in some parts. Horse took a step into some thick mud, and Jackson had to lean back to steady himself.
“Easy, now, Horse,” he cautioned his mount. “Head up higher, there’s mud here,” Jackson warned Hope.
Hope responded quickly, and he admired how she kept up with him. Eventually he only had to gesture with his hand to direct her. Occasionally, he would dismount to inspect the grass for dung or signs of grazing to make sure they were on the right track.
“I see one,” Hope informed him, pointing towards a line of brush.
“Let’s get behind them,” Jackson ordered. “Go wide and approach slowly. We don’t want to frighten them.”
Hope nodded. “I’ll go left,” she said, tugging her horse away and immediately obeying his instructions.
Jackson headed towards the right, counting how many steers had gotten through. There were at least eighteen, and it would take some work to get them back through the narrow gap in the fence. He looked up and noticed Hope keeping pace with him on the opposite side of the herd.
Once in position, he signaled to her with his hand, and they started walking their horses towards each other, nudging the herd forward at a slow pace. Horse barely needed any guidance from Jackson, as he knew when to step in front of a steer walking out of line and guide him back in.
Jackson looked over at Hope and saw her keeping in line with him, whistling and talking to any cow that drifted away from the group.
Every now and then, he would see her glance at him to make sure she was not falling behind, and Jackson found himself smiling.
Working with Hope was far easier, and more enjoyable, than he could’ve anticipated.
Horse snorted at him, as if sensing that Jackson’s attention had wandered, and he looked up, spotting the fence line up ahead. He signaled to Hope to steer more to her right, while he nudged the cattle from his side so they were forced to go in through the hole in the fence.
“Almost there,” he murmured to himself, watching Hope bring up the rear without him even asking her to.
The last steer ambled through the gap, and Jackson pulled his hat off to wave at Hope in celebration, when he saw her gelding struggle with its footing through the same swampy patch he had stepped into earlier. The gelding jolted unevenly, jerking Hope from side to side.
“Jackson!” Hope shouted, panic in her wide eyes.
Fear coursed through Jackson as he kicked at Horse’s flanks and galloped towards her.
Hope did her best to hold on tightly and calmly guide the gelding out, but before either of them could do anything else, the gelding bucked in an effort to get free and Hope was thrown clear off its back. She landed with a grunt, her hands shielding her head from any stray hooves.
Jackson leapt off his horse, his eyes fixed on Hope as dropped to his knees at her side, the cold, wet mud soaking into his trousers.
“Hope. Hope,” he called gently, placing a hand on the side of her face. “Are you hurt?”
She blinked at him, looking slightly dazed, with mud splashed across one of her rosy cheeks, but she shook her head. “I’m not hurt.”
He wiped the mud off her cheek with his sleeve, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and lifted her carefully out of the grass, drawing her close to him as he fought his way out of the mud. She was so light in his arms, and it struck him how fragile she really was despite her apparent toughness.
Jackson placed her on top of Horse and climbed up behind her, carefully shifting her closer as he picked up the reins.
She rested her head against his shoulder as she leaned against him, and he could feel her shiver from the chill spring air.
He realized that she wasn’t even wearing a proper outdoor jacket.
He drew his coat around her shoulders to try and shield her from the air a bit.
“I’ll get you home,” Jackson promised, his lips close to her ear. He spurred Horse on, his frame supporting her weight.
He would send one of the workers out to fetch the gelding and begin patching the fence so that the cattle did not escape again as soon as they made it back.
For now, all he could think about was getting Hope warm and dry.
He looked down at her and was reminded that her wild beauty and determination didn’t mean she couldn’t be hurt.
Jackson scowled into the cold wind, feeling responsible for Hope’s accident.
He shouldn’t have let her help. Her beauty had distracted him from making a sound call, and that had led to her being hurt on his watch.
He shook his head and quietly resolved to maintain the distance between them. It was safer for her.
“It’s not your fault,” she whispered to him, as if reading his mind.
Jackson knew she was trying to comfort him, but he couldn’t shake his self-blame from his mind. They rode on in silence, the yellow and green grass brushing past Horse’s legs as he led them home, the dark blue Madison Mountains capped with snow in the distance a constant backdrop.
Once back at the ranch, he hoped that his mother would be around to take care of Hope, but when they arrived, she was nowhere in sight. Jackson dismounted smoothly and lifted Hope off Horse before she could try to climb off herself.
“I can walk,” Hope insisted, a stubborn edge to her voice, so Jackson set her down.
After a few steps, she wobbled slightly and reached out a hand to steady herself, which Jackson caught in his own. He wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her slowly into the kitchen, ignoring the trail of mud their boots left behind.
“I’m fine, really,” Hope argued, her cheeks slightly flushed as she avoided his gaze. “Just a little dizzy and embarrassed, that’s all.”
Jackson ignored her. He pulled a chair up close to the stove and stoked the fire, then helped her to sit down.
“Did you hit your head?” he asked, his eyes scanning her face and head for blood or other signs of injury.
A few curls escaped Hope’s braid as she probed her scalp with her fingertips.
She winced slightly, but quickly forced a smile to try and mask it.
Jackson berated himself for the pain she felt, especially since she was trying to hide it to make him feel better.
He walked over to inspect her injury, his hands careful as they held her head.
Thankfully, there was no cut or blood, only a bump.
“It’s just a small bruise,” she said, pulling away and looking up at him, the line of her jaw set with the same strength as the mountains surrounding the valley.
Why wouldn’t Hope just let him help her?
It was his fault she had been thrown from her horse, yet she was trying to pretend she was fine.
Was it because she was so used to looking after herself that she didn’t know how to let someone else care for her?
Or was it because he was so uncomfortable around her that she thought he might make things worse? Everything about Hope confused him.
The water on the stove started boiling, and Jackson used that as an excuse to step away from Hope and clear his mind. He selected one of his mother’s tea blends and set a teapot on the table in front of Hope. He walked back to the shelf to select a cup and hesitated, his hand hovering in the air.
If he was going to make living with Hope less awkward, he needed to find a way to understand her better.
That meant he actually had to spend time in the same room as her.
But if he was honest with himself, it was more than simply wanting more peaceful home relations.
Jackson’s mind darted to the memory of holding Hope close to him, and it was as if feeling her vulnerability had awakened a strong desire in him to be around her and to protect her.
However, he tried to reason around it, as the feeling scared him.