Redwolf's Woman Page 2

  Well, almost.

  With his horrendous romantic history and intense work schedule, he didn't get involved with many women. But the ones he did understood that a few nights of enjoying each other's company was all he was willing to offer.

  He was wealthy beyond his wildest imaginings, while Ben Thompson was now struggling to keep his ranch alive. That thought always made Jared smile.

  The house that stood before Jared, however, made him frown. His three-story spread on four hundred acres sure as hell might be the symbol of his worth and how far he'd come, but every time he entered the gates and flew down the gravel road where his house loomed up before him, he was reminded of Ava. He'd had the house painted the color of her eyes—that soft, pale green. Lord, she had the kind of eyes a man could get lost in for days.

  Jared ground his teeth, staring up at the place. When she'd left him four years ago, part of him had died. But the other part had remained alive to work. He'd worked his backside off night and day and dawn to get her out of his mind. Then later, to keep her out.

  He'd created this place to look cheery and homey. And perhaps to his grandmother it was, but it sure wasn't to him. It was as though he'd built this house as an ode to Ava—in hopes that she'd come back, come home to him some day. But he'd been a fool, and the house had become just a place to rest his head at night.

  He slammed on his brakes, skidding to a dust-cloud stop. He stared at the house, its white and Ava-green trim mocking him in the late afternoon sunlight. All he could think, see, was her. He cursed. All those years ago, Ben Thompson had made it clear that his daughters were off-limits to the ranch hands. Why the hell hadn't he listened?

  Ben Thompson.

  If it were the last thing Jared did it would be to get his revenge on that man. And if rumors of a financially troubled ranch were true, that looked to be soon enough.

  "Are you going to get out of that truck?"

  Jared glanced up at the porch where his elderly grandmother, Muna, sat at a small table surrounded by the things she loved. Tea, books, herbs of every kind and her spirit cards. She was his mother's mother and all he had left of a family. She was a true Cheyenne with salt and pepper braids stretching to her waist. She was thin, but far from frail. Eighty-four and sharp as a tack, she looked a bit wrinkled, a bit like a weathered apple—sweet but tart when she had a mind to be.

  He remembered the stories she would tell him when he was a child. She'd been the shaman of her tribe, the one the people would go to for answers about dreams, visions and the future. She was called a "Teller" by some and a "Seer" by others.

  Right now, Jared noticed, she was something else altogether. Apprehensive. She stood up and started to sweep the porch with long, swift stokes. "What happened in town, Jared?"

  Inside his truck—which was growing warmer by the moment—Jared scrubbed a hand over his face. He didn't want to answer her question, so he chose a route more traveled: avoidance. "Why are you sweeping? We have a housekeeper."

  "I didn't ask for her." It was her usual reply in her usual indignant tone.

  Jared shook his head. All he wanted was for his grandmother to live the rest of her days in comfort. She and his mother had struggled all their lives, worked at any job that was willing to pay them a fair wage, just to put food on the table. And when his mother had died, it had been Muna who'd taken care of him. He'd just turned eight and he was a hellcat looking for trouble. But Muna had set him right, fed him, read to him—forced him to look past the cutting remarks and see that even a poor mixed blood could be someone. She'd been in her seventies while they'd lived on the Thompson's land and still found the energy to wash floors, cook meals and sweep porches.

  Now, in her eighties, all she had to do was sit back, relax and enjoy life. But that wasn't her way.

  "Jared," she called from the porch, her voice calm but laced with strength. "You better tell me what happened in town."

  "I ran into an old … friend. Nothing to worry about."

  She shook her head, unconvinced. "I felt something, but the cards were most secretive this morning. They didn't tell me about this old friend."

  "Even the spirits of your animals couldn't have predicted this," he called, not moving from his truck.

  She shrugged. "Maybe not. Or perhaps they wanted things revealed in their own time."

  Four years was a helluva long time to wait for things to be revealed, Jared thought. Too long.

  His only contact with Ava in all that time had been one phone call shortly after she'd left. But he hadn't wanted to hear her excuses—hadn't wanted to hear how she'd chosen another man over him.

  He twisted the key in the ignition and gunned the engine. Those days—those weak feelings—were gone. He wasn't going to let any more time pass. Something buried deep in his gut wouldn't allow him to just walk away like she had four years ago, like he'd done in the bridal shop today. It would've been different if he'd never seen her again. But he had. She owed him an explanation and once he had it, he could walk away free. He could finally forget.

  "I'll be back," he called to Muna as he shoved the truck into Reverse. "I've got to see that old friend one last time."

  Jared barely heard the two-word utterance from his grandmother that followed him on the breeze down the gravel driveway. But he sure felt it—like a bullet in the chest.

  "Ava Thompson."

  * * *

  Two

  « ^ »

  In the dusky-blue guest bedroom of the modest house her sister rented, Ava stared out the window at her three-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Lily, who was laughing and playing in the backyard with the lively elderly woman from next door and her two granddaughters. The three little girls were side by side, playing in the green plastic box Rita had filled with sand the day after they'd gotten there.

  Ava felt her heart tug as she looked at her daughter. Lily loved the outdoors, loved to romp and play and make friends. But New York City wasn't built to accommodate a little girl with wide open spaces and a truckload of animals on her mind. Nor was it the best place to make friends.

  In playgroup and out, her daughter had had a hard time of it. She was different, strong minded and passionate. Someday soon, those wonderful characteristics would have her wondering who her daddy was—and where he was.

  A fact which scared Ava, but she knew such a need was inevitable and that her daughter deserved to know the truth.

  Lily's cheeks glowed with health and happiness as she played. Long auburn hair, almond-shaped eyes and a sweet face with an upturned nose and a sprinkling of freckles. In many ways she was a miniature version of her mother. But there was her father in her, too: dark-gray eyes that looked straight through to your soul, long legs and a fiery temper when she was frustrated.

  On a weary sigh, Ava turned away from the window and grabbed the phone book off the top of the little white shabby-chic dresser. She needed to find a different place to stay—somewhere where there wasn't even the most remote possibility of Jared Redwolf stopping by.

  "Hey. What are you doing?"

  Ava glanced up to see her sister walk into the room, balancing a box of cookies under one arm and two glasses of milk in either hand. A still-shot flashed through her mind of a ten-year-old Rita bringing her cookies and milk on one of their mother's antique trays. As they grew up, Rita never tired of attempting to raise Ava's spirits when something went wrong, no matter if it was as minute as a put-down from their father, or as enormous as the horror in junior year when busty Tina White had flirted her way into the part of Laurie in their high school's production of Oklahoma!

  What was especially amusing—and endearing—to Ava was that Rita still believed that cookies and milk were a cure-all for the blues.

  Where Rita was the dreamer, impulsive and romantic, Ava mused, smiling, she was the responsible one—practical and cautious. To their mother's delight they were truly characters.

  Ava had always loved to hear the story about her and Rita's names. Their mother, Olivia Tho
mpson, had been a stand-in for actresses Ava Gardner and Rita Hayworth during a brief stint in Hollywood. One summer, she met Ben Thompson at a convention in Las Vegas, fell head over heels in love with him and had left all the glamour and her friends behind. But for her mother, those days had never been never far away. While she'd dress Rita and Ava up in old costumes and powder their little noses, Olivia would tell them how much she missed the Hollywood life and all the exciting people.

  It was only a few years later that her mother had died.

  "So, who are you calling?" Rita asked, tugging Ava back from the past.

  "I'm calling all the motels in town."

  Rita gasped. "You're not going to abandon me in my hour of wedding need, are you? Besides, there's only one motel in town now, and it's full up with rodeo folk." She set the milk and cookies on the bedside table. "'Course, there's Carolyn's Bed and Breakfast. But Carolyn's not renting any rooms right now because of the flood."

  Ava's brow furrowed. "Her rooms are on the top floor."

  "Not from the rain." Rita popped a cookie into her mouth and grinned. "Waterbed incident."

  Ava put a hand up to stop Rita from saying anything more. "Got it."

  Rita reached out and took her sister's hand. "Please don't leave. I'm sorry about today. I was a horrible sister."

  "Not horrible. Just exasperating, interfering and a devious little pain in the—"

  "Okay, okay." Rita fell back onto the bed. "Look, I love you and I want to see you happy. What Dad did four years ago was so unbelievably wrong and unfair. I just thought maybe if you and Jared talked things over it would help the situation, maybe heal some old wounds."

  Ava smiled halfheartedly. "I appreciate that, little sister, I really do, but you saw how he looked at me today. The damage is done. It's over." She eyed her seriously. "And by the way, what Dad did wasn't your fault."

  A stain of pink brushed Rita's cheeks and she looked away. "I could've helped you."

  "No, you couldn't have. You were too young." Ava sighed. "There was no painless way out of that situation. If I had gone to Jared, he and his grandmother would've been out on the street. Dad promised me that. And I wasn't going to let that happen."

  "They have a big house now, you know." Her tone was leading and hopeful. "And no financial worries."

  "I know," Ava said quietly, then pointed at the cookies. "Can I have one of those?"

  Rita laughed and thrust the package toward her. "Have two." She sobered momentarily. "Are you going to see Dad while you're here?"

  A flicker of apprehension coursed through Ava. "I don't think so."

  "Maybe introduce him to his granddaughter?"

  "He's made his feelings about Lily all too clear."

  "He really changed when you left. Well, after his car accident. That bump on the head seemed to knock some sense into him and some understanding into his heart. I think he'd really like to see you, Ava. I think he has some regrets."

  Ava shook her head firmly. "I can't take that chance. I won't have Lily hurt. I have enough to deal with in Jared." She nodded at the phone book. "That's why I should find another place to stay."

  "Oh, c'mon. He said he wasn't coming to the wedding, right?"

  "Right."

  "So what are you worried about?"

  Ava shrugged. Jared had promised not to come to the wedding, which meant he probably wasn't stopping by for an invitation. "I guess I really shouldn't be, huh?"

  Companionably, they sat together on the bed, eating their cookies and drinking their milk.

  Rita broke the silence. "He still has feelings for you."

  "Oh, I know. Hatred, contempt—"

  "Whatever it is, you have to tell him the truth."

  "I tried once, remember?"

  Rita put her arm around Ava. "You have to try again."

  "I just don't think he's ready yet."

  "He's not ready? Or you're not?"

  Ava grabbed another cookie, stood up and walked over to the window to check on her daughter. She didn't even want to contemplate Rita's suggestion. Jared hated her now. And more than likely, after their exchange today, he wouldn't be coming within a mile of her—

  The thought died. Ava's throat tightened and her hands began to tremble.

  Through the thin pane of glass and dusty screen, a scene she'd imagined a thousand times in her head was unfolding. Lily had abandoned the sandbox and her friends and was standing beside the rosebushes talking to a tall, gorgeous Cheyenne.

  * * *

  "You got any horsies?"

  Jared smiled down at the cute little girl with her large eyes and long copper ponytail. "Seven of them."

  It was late afternoon, but the sun was so hot it could simmer chili. It was the kind of day that begged for water or shade. Or lemonade, he thought as the little girl sitting in front of him awkwardly handed him a Dixie cup from the kid-size plastic table that sat on the brick patio near the grass.

  "Thank you, ma'am," he said and downed the cool, tart liquid.

  He wondered who she was. Probably another one of Mrs. Young's grandkids—although she didn't look like one of those black-haired tikes. And if she was one of the Young kids, why was she over at Rita's place? Barbecue? Could be. Paradise was a real family kind of town.

  He waved at a tired-looking Mrs. Young, then glanced down at the little girl who was tugging at his jeans. It was no spoiled, frilly-dressed young lady who looked up at him. No. The little girl who had introduced herself as Lily was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, her cheeks and hands smudged with dirt. She was a tomboy, he could tell that the minute he'd walked into the backyard and she'd jumped up from the sandbox and leaped over the side like a circus performer—with no fear, only blind confidence. She had to be around three or four, but he wasn't sure. She wasn't totally forthcoming on that front, opting instead to pepper him with questions. Not that her pluck bothered him. He liked kids. Just didn't know many, that's all, didn't have much experience around them.

  No brothers or sisters had meant no nieces or nephews.

  Lily crooked her finger as though she had a big secret to share, and he bent down to hear her whisper, "My mommy reads me a book about Appaloosas." The word came out sounding like apple and ooosas. "You got Appaloosas?"

  He nodded. "Two. Soon to be three."

  "You might buy some more?"

  "Nope." He sat back on his heels. "My mare's about ready to foal."

  "What's that?"

  "She's going to have a baby."

  The little girl clasped her hands to together and let out a sound that resembled a squeal. "A baby?"

  He chuckled. "Yep."

  "When?"

  "At the end of the week, I expect."

  "Oh, I want to see. Please?" she asked. "I can help. I'm gonna be a good horsie rider when I get big."

  A shadow fell between them on the grass. Jared stood and saw Ava walking toward the little girl, eyes wary and nervous.

  "Mommy," Lily called to her with a wide smile. "This is Jared."

  Mommy. Jared's gut constricted, making his breathing tight. This little girl was Ava's … child? The word cut deep, as did the idea that Ava had been touched by anyone but him. Although he knew she'd been married, he'd ripped the knowledge from his mind. Didn't want to think of her with another man. But here it was right in the face, proof-positive.

  "I know who he is, Lil," Ava said at last, her green eyes fastened on him, questioning him. Why was he here and when was he going to leave? they seemed to ask.

  About twenty minutes ago, he'd been tearing down Route 15, all fired up, ready to ask some questions, ready to do battle with the woman who held all the answers. But this little girl had stopped him, quelled his ire and charmed the socks off him as her mother had done so many times in the past.

  Like Ava was doing right now, just standing there on the grass, watching him, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. He cursed silently as all thoughts in his head disintegrated while his gaze traveled over every inch of her
. The pink satin potato sack she'd been wearing earlier was gone and in its place was the reminder of how luscious her body had been and still was. His groin tightened. White shorts, white T-shirt and chunky sandals. Long, tanned legs, high, full breasts and toes painted the color of his saddle.

  Jared wanted only to be angry, feel the rage he'd been holding inside for so long, but this woman had a power over him. The sun pierced through the slats in the overhang like torrents of golden rain, backlighting Ava. Complete with a halo of blond locks, she looked like an angel. Too beautiful to behold. Well, too beautiful for him to hold.

  Jared turned to Lily. "Your mom and I used to know each other."

  Lily looked wide-eyed at her mother.

  Ava smiled, then she glanced back at Jared. "Did you change your mind about coming to the wedding—"

  "Not exactly." He eased off his Stetson and wiped his brow. This was not going as planned. One thing was certain, he thought as he looked at the two of them. He sure as hell wasn't going to interrogate Ava with her daughter around. It would have to be another time, another day.

  Mother and daughter, he thought as he watched them sit down on the grass side by side, then start methodically picking blades of grass, discarding them. Why in the world hadn't he thought about the possibility of a child? What a fool he was. She'd left Paradise to get married. And children were a natural progression in a marriage.

  "When can I come see the horsies?" Lily asked, forcing Jared back into the present.

  Jared smiled. "You're welcome at my place anytime."

  "Now?"

  "No, Lil," Ava said quickly. "We're about to have dinner."

  Undaunted, Lily said, "Tomorrow?"

  Ava shook her head. "No. We … have plans."

  She sounded utterly panicked, Jared noticed. Hell, she looked panicked. Obviously she didn't want him around her child. What did she think he was going to do?

  His jaw tightened.

  They'd talked about children once. The first night they'd made love. Late into the night in the small tack shed he'd fixed up to look romantic. They'd talked about everything: their future, being together, kids. Then he'd pulled her close, kissed her hungrily and made love to her again. Jared shook the images of wet skin and heated mouths out of his head. He wasn't here to reminisce. She owed him an explanation and tomorrow would be the perfect time to get it. Muna could take Lily to see the horses and he and Ava could talk.