Chapter Five
“It’s fine, Peony. Really.”
Jake looked into the comfortable guest room, the en suite door peeking out from along the far wall.
It would more than do. It wasn’t a cold couch that doubled as a bed in someone else’s apartment.
He wanted to lie down in the massive queen-sized bed right then, but other matters were more important.
“Well, I’m sure your home in New York is much nicer,” Peony replied, and shook her head ruefully. “I bet it has big windows and a huge kitchen overlooking the river.”
Jake chuckled. “It did. I had to give it up not too long ago.”
Peony made a noise and gestured into the bedroom. “Well, this is yours while you’re here,” she said wearily. Jake looked sharply at her.
“You should be resting.”
“No time. Need to get dinner on. We gave the cook the evening off, so someone needs to feed everyone,” she replied and shuffled toward the main area of the house. He saw the funny gait, the tremble, and reached her side in two steps, hand on her elbow.
She looked up into his face and patted his hand on her arm. “It’s okay. Just my arthritis kicking up. Stress does that. I’ll be fine.”
Jake nodded but steered Peony around, back down the hallway.
A need to take care of her overwhelmed him, just like it used to when his mother would come home drunk—or worse, high.
He realized there must be something inherently broken in him to be comparing those terrible nights to this, but he let it pass so he could focus on making sure this woman took the time to rest. Today had been a huge shock. For everyone.
“You do remember I can cook, yeah? Go rest, have a hot bath, or sleep. Let me make dinner for everyone.”
Peony stopped and looked up at him. She smiled, the same smile her daughter might have, he suddenly thought.
“You are a West, my dear. I can see it in everything. The way you walk, talk—” She stopped, and he urged her forward, shoring her up with an arm around her waist. She leaned into him with a sigh.
“I never knew my father,” he said quietly. “Sometimes I used to wonder if I was like him. My mother never even had a photo of him, and he certainly wasn’t her favorite person.”
“You are,” Peony said. “Tanner’s like him too. Likely want a DNA sample from you for all of this.”
“Already ordered the kit while Frank and I finished up. Least I can do,” Jake said, pushing open the door that Peony pointed to.
He ushered her into her room and set her on the edge of the big master bed.
The suite was huge; Gordon’s whole apartment was smaller.
The entire house was a sprawling maze of wealth, and it hit him that he didn’t remember one bit of it.
“Thank you, Jake. I mean it,” Peony said as she shifted into her bed, and he pulled up the covers. She lay back and he turned to go, but she stopped him, her hand on his arm.
“Follow the hallway back and then turn right toward the big dining room, kitchen is back behind that.”
Jake nodded and left her to her nap, closing the door softly—there had been enough doors slamming for one day.
He made his way back to the main living room, then through an enormous dining room with a butler pantry, to the kitchen just as Peony had said.
He stopped short, taking in the expensive stone countertops, massive gas cooktop, big double-door commercial fridge.
A chef’s dream kitchen was staring back at him, gleaming in the late afternoon light.
He leaned on the island and looked around, processing the past couple of hours.
In one fell swoop, he had been tied to this place until their lawyer could figure out a way to break it.
He didn’t have time to sit on his ass out in the middle of nowhere; he needed to be back in the city, getting on with his own life.
But here he was. A few days of clothing wasn’t going to cut it—he could be here a month or more, so he fished his phone out of his pocket and called Gordon.
“Hey, man, how’s the middle of nowhere?” Gordon said as soon as he answered. Jake’s shoulders lowered as he leaned on the counter, happy to be talking to someone familiar.
“A lot of cows,” Jake replied. “How you doing without me to harass you?”
“Aww, you know I miss your sweet face first thing in the morning, Grumpy.”
Jake chuckled. “‘Grumpy’?”
“Hah. Whatever. I secured that gig at The Grill, you know they brought on a new head chef. She was looking for some deep experience, so I’m the new pantry chef. Not exactly what I wanted, but it’s a foot in the door.”
“Hey, that’s great!” Jake said, a pinch of excitement reverberating in his stomach.
The Grill. It was a great place, one he’d tried to get into once, but they were interested in European fusion cuisine rather than Jake’s specialty at the time.
Gordon could helm the place easily, if he wanted.
Jake sobered. Time to get to the point of his call.
“Listen, I have a situation.”
“When don’t you?” Gordon teased back.
“Hah, funny. I need you to ship me my clothing and stuff. I might be here a while.”
Gordon hmmed and Jake heard paper shuffling on the other end of the call. “Okay. Spill, what’s the situation?”
“Well, my dad, he. . . . Well, he willed me the entire ranch. I have to stay while the family’s lawyer finds a way out of it.”
Gordon let out a whistle. “Wow, that’s a situation for sure. You’ll need all your shit, then, huh? I can do that. Are you okay? Do you need me to come out there?”
“Nah, I’m good. I don’t know how long I’ll be here, maybe a week, maybe a month or more. I’ll find a spot to settle in, and the main house here has a really nice kitchen. Could be worse. Plus, I might learn a thing or two about my dad. I have half brothers, two of ’em, can you believe it?”
“Instant family, man. That’ll be new for you.
I can send you some audio from Fifth Avenue at rush hour, too, if you want.
The lack of sirens and horns is going to drive you nuts,” Gordon said, and then ahhed under his breath as more paper sounds made it through the phone.
“Here it is, I knew I wrote down the address where you were going. I can send all of it there?”
“Yeah. If anything important comes in the mail, can you forward it as well?”
“Yep. But when the executive chef invitation for The Odeon arrives in our mailbox, can I pretend to be you?” Gordon said.
“Not on your life, but if it does, I’m bringing you with me,” Jake replied.
Gordon let out a laugh. “Hah, like you have a choice. Anyway, I’ll get it all out to you, no worries. You sure you want all of it?”
“Yeah, gonna need to think practical if I’m here for a while. Thanks, man, I owe you. Let me know what to send you for it.”
“Yes, Chef,” Gordon said. “Take it easy, might find you like the peace and quiet compared to this madhouse, get your head on straight while you figure out where your next restaurant’s going to be.”
“Not likely,” Jake said, looking around. The lack of city lights and people was going to make him jumpy. But right now, he didn’t have a choice.
“All right. Gotta move, my first shift starts in two hours. Cheers, man!” Gordon said, and ended the call.
With that taken care of, Jake’s brain slowed down, focusing on the immediate problem of his presence at this ranch.
Frank had left him with strict instructions to not go too far away, the complexity of the will not making it a simple retraction or a refusal on his part.
As complicated as it was, Jake was intrigued by the process, looking forward to sinking his teeth into the problem.
Gordon had alluded to maybe using it as a chance to really get his act together.
Couch surfing and licking his wounded pride was going nowhere fast.
As he stared at the kitchen, the thought ping-ponged around his head that he no more belonged on a ranch in the middle of nowhere than his half brothers could live in the city.
The sheer audacity of his late father’s idea made him wonder what he’d been like as a man.
Had he been he a vindictive asshole? Mentally unstable?
It seemed impossible to reconcile the idea of a man who had successfully run this ranch with the one who, in some strange fit, had willed that ranch to someone he’d never known and didn’t want.
One who had been married to the kind woman Jake had just helped into bed.
“Well, okay, West. If you have to stay for a bit, you need to get your shit together,” he said, and straightened up, turning on the lights over the island and sink.
“You think?” came a terse reply, and he turned to see Tanner stomp in, phone in his hand, hat still on his head.
Jake and he eyed each other for a moment. Jake felt a small pang of regret he’d never gotten to know him. It would have been nice to have family growing up. Maybe, under different circumstances, they could have been friends.
“Where’s Peony?”
“I sent her to rest,” Jake said, the moment gone, moving around to the far side of the kitchen, opening drawers, looking for towels and aprons. “She was exhausted.”
He watched his brother look away and swallow, the anger and resentment rippling off his body.
Jake felt his own temper rise, and clamped down on it.
He knew that if he didn’t, they might be nose to nose in a moment, screaming their fool heads off.
His temper had gotten the better of him at times, and his team had witnessed it in spectacular fashion when a dinner rush was failing.
“I don’t want you in the house,” Tanner spat at him. “You don’t belong here.”
“Right,” Jake replied, readying for the assault, yanking out the first apron he could find in the drawer. “You read that damned document. I have to stay here or this whole place goes to Tree Huggers for Hippos.”