The air in the room pressed in around Cameron. Go to the Flying W? Would Jennie be there? Ten years was a long time. Why did he still feel such a strong tug in his chest when he thought of Jennie? The Wards and the Morgans have been feuding for close to thirty years. Dont think it would do much good.
Evangelines blue eyes darkened. I dont care if the Hatfields and McCoys are feuding, someone has to tell these people what theyre up agai
Ill go. Cameron couldnt believe the words jumped out of his mouth. The more he thought about it, the more he realized Jennie could be in danger. Jack was an excellent agent, one of the best, and hed do a good job. However, Cameron couldnt live with himself if something happened to Jennie and he wasnt there to stop it. Ill go, he repeated.
Evangelines mouth was still open from her last word. She shut it and tipped her head to the side. Youre the right man to inform your family, but maybe Jack should speak to the Wards.
Look, I never went along with the feud. I thought it was a stupid waste of time. That had always been the problem in his fathers eyes. If hed stuck to the Morgans side of the fence, he never would have fallen in love with Jennie and he and his family would still get along. Let me speak to the Wards.
JENNIE SWUNG HER LEG over her mount and dropped to the hard-packed dirt. With Lady out of commission, shed had to ride Little Joe and his gait wasnt as smooth as Ladys. Every muscle and joint ached from fourteen hours in the saddle. Thank goodness the temperatures had only been in the seventies.
She loved the spring. After the long months of winter with the wind howling through the valleys, she looked forward to the warmer days and clear blue skies. On the other hand, she dreaded the long hot days and dust of summer.
With the three-year drought and cattle prices down, theyd had to let the extra hands go. Which meant, along with Stan Keller, their foreman, and Rudy Toler and Doug Sweeney, the two remaining cowhands, Jennie rode fences and checked cattle every day. This year had to be better than last. They couldnt afford to keep the cattle and the ranch if they werent making enough money to buy feed, much less pay the hands. So far the year had been one disaster after another.
Her father had always managed the books, but being shorthanded meant doing all the work themselves. Every able-bodied man and woman would be out tending stock and fences, except the housekeeper, Ms. Blainey. Her job was as important as tending cattle. She cooked the meals for the worn-out cowhands.
Her stomach rumbling, Jennie hurried to feed, brush and curry the bay gelding. After reapplying the dressing to Ladys injury, she made her way to the house intent on soaking in a hot shower before dinner. She still didnt have a clue where the razor blade had come from and none of the hands owned up to leaving it in the tack room. Shed warned them to inspect their gear before saddling up, just in case.
Her father should be back from checking on stock in the north pasture soon. He knew how upset Ms. Blainey would be if he missed supper. Jennie smiled. Rachel Blainey was the same age her mother would have been if shed lived this long, and she was a nice addition to the staff. Jennie hated cooking with a passion. Shed rather wrestle an ornery bull-calf than bake a cake. Her smile slipped. She hoped they could keep Ms. Blainey on, as tight as the money was.
Vowing to stay awake long enough to review the accounts that night, Jennie trudged up past the bunkhouse. When the sprawling cedar-and-stone cabin came into view, she spied a strange, black four-wheel-drive pickup parked in the gravel driveway. Company? They werent expecting any company, were they?
She frowned down at her filthy shirt and dusty jeans and sighed. Couldnt be helped. Whoever it was would just have to understand shed been out working. Her mother would have rushed her back inside and made her take a shower before greeting guests. But that was when she was ten and her mother was always at the house, clean, pressed and looking like a model fresh from a magazine shoot, instead of a cattle ranchers wife.
After eighteen years, Jennie could still remember the smell of her mothers perfume and envision the smile, very much like her own. Sometimes she missed her mother more than she could bearusually when times were toughest. But her father had done the best he could and loved her enough for both parents.
Jennie stepped in through the back door. She could hear the low rumble of a male voice coming from the living room and the happy sound of Ms. Blaineys laughter.
Maybe she did have time to shower and change before she came out. Easing her way down the hallway, she was almost to the staircase when a soft, feminine voice called out, Hank? Is that you? Rachel Blainey rounded the corner from the living room, her dark hair pulled back from her face, her white cotton blouse wrinkle-free and snowy white. Oh, Jennie, Im glad youre back. We have a visitor, someone I think you know.
Im really not dressed for company, Jennie said, eyeing the staircase and wondering if it would be rude to race up to the bathroom and slam the door.
Oh, nonsense. Im sure hes used to dusty ranchers. After all, his family is in ranching.
Curious now, Jennie allowed Rachel to snag her elbow and tug her toward the living room. You say I know him? Who is he?
Hes one of the Morgans from next door.
Jennie dug the heels of her Dingo boots into the hardwood floor, her stomach filling with a swarm of butterflies. Morgans? The only Morgan whod ever been willing to step foot on the Flying W was
A man stepped into view. His tall frame completely blocked the light from the picture windows behind him, throwing his face into shadow.
Jennie squinted, trying to make out his features.
Hi, Jennie. The voice confirmed his identity in the first syllable.
Her mind scrambled to put words in her mouth while her stomach flip-flopped around the butterflies, as if trying to decide whether to leap for joy or upend from nausea. Cameron.
Of all the people who might have come to visit, she never expected to see him. They hadnt spoken more than two words since their breakup, and so much had happened in between. With the Morgans and Wards feeling the way they did, she wouldnt think even the black sheep of the Morgan family would venture onto Ward property without a bulletproof vest.
Jennie moved around him, feeling dwarfed by his six-foot-three-inch frame. Her shoulder brushed against his arm, the scent of aftershave and leather assailing her nostrils, sending memories flittering through her jumbled thoughts. Why now? Why come back to the ranch now? Not that she couldnt handle it. She was a grown woman with a decade of experience behind her. Then why did she feel like the awkward teen shed been when shed fallen in love with Cameron Morgan?
Since then, she recognized it for what it had beena teenage fantasy. She didnt love him anymore. There was nothing between them. Hed gone on to enter the army and shed married Vance Franklin. Their lives had gone entirely different directions.
Once in the middle of the living room, she turned to see his face in the light.
Ten years.
Jennie was amazed at how much had changed in his face and how much was still the same Cameron. A few lines had appeared around his emerald-green eyes and his coal-black hair was shorter than when shed dated him, probably a reflection of his time spent in the military. Such a shame, too. She used to love to run her fingers through his thick waves, making it stand on end. Hed tug her long, blond braid until her head tilted back and he could claim her lips in a scorching kiss. Jennies heart hammered against her rib cage and she stammered, You havent changed a bit.