“Let’s not think about that. How about we give Rambo some carrots? He could use a treat too, don’t you think?”
Please say yes. Please say yes.
Her eyes lit up. “Oooh, can I? Please?”
Relieved, he would’ve allowed her to do almost anything. “Sure. Lemme get some from my backpack.”
He pulled out two carrot sticks, and they walked over to Rambo, who’d been cropping grass but raised his head and nickered when they walked near. He stroked the horse’s neck.
“Go on. Hold the carrot out. He knows what to do, don’t you, fella?”
Stacey stayed by his side and gingerly held the carrot up to Rambo. When the horse mouthed it and chewed, she giggled. Rambo whinnied and nodded his head, striking the ground softly with his hoof.
“He likes me.” She held out the other carrot stick, and the horse chomped on it as well.
“’Course he does, Princess. How could he not?”
And just like that, the laughter fled her face, and Shea cursed himself up and down for saying those words. Stacey fidgeted with the leftover carrot tops, and frantically, Shea thought,What would Jake do?
“How about we feed the ducks? Look.” In an effort to distract Stacey, he pointed to the lake. “They’re all paddling toward us. I think they know you have good stuff for them.” Normally they discouraged guests from giving any food to wildlife they came across, but Shea was willing to make an exception in this case.
One little shoulder lifted, but Shea wasn’t about to be deterred. “C’mon, Princess.” He grabbed her up, put her on his shoulders, and galloped across the grass until she laughed out loud. Puffing a bit, he reached the blanket, took out the little bag of birdseed, and handed it to her. “Let’s go wade in.”
He put her life jacket on again, and holding her hand, they walked to the water. Quacking and paddling, the ducks made a beeline for them, and within minutes, her sadness vanished, replaced by smiles. The sound of an ATV grew louder, and when he turned around, Jake had stopped and was climbing off the vehicle. Dressed in a sleeveless black shirt and a blue bathing suit, with his sunglasses over his eyes, Jake stole his breath away. A blinding smile spread across Jake’s face, and when he crouched to hug Stacey, who’d left the water and gone running toward him, Shea knew he was madly, stupidly, downright crazy in love.
Chapter Twenty
Before joining Stacey and Shea at the lake, Jake showered and set up his phone. All the missed messages and phone calls popped up, and he had to turn off the ringer until it was finished. The noise grated on his nerves. With Stacey’s onset of speech, her recovery was paramount in his mind, not Precision Financial.
He neither loved nor hated his job. But even the high salary didn’t make up for his ambivalence and, lately, dissatisfaction. Thanks to Erica, he’d made some spectacular investments in real estate and stock, which, even after the division of assets in the divorce, left him well-off and able to give Stacey whatever she needed. Money brought him security, but not what he so desperately wanted.
A family. Love.
Professionally, he had everything. Personally, the last couple of years he’d been sailing through life without any destination or port until here at the ranch, where he’d discovered contentment, and the discord inside him had melted away.
He picked up the now silent phone and began scrolling through the messages, none of which required his input, and again he blessed the gods for having a second in charge as strong as Maria. With a sinking heart, he did notice his completely booked calendar the week he returned, with required training and interviews, meetings with the various directors, and, of course, several terminations.
The beginning of a dull headache crept up the back of his neck and settled behind his eyes. A common occurrence at home, he hadn’t experienced a single minute of discomfort since coming to the ranch.
The phone rang, and when Maria’s name flashed on the screen, he pressed Accept.
“Jake?”
“Hi, what’s going on? I just got my new phone. More Sterling problems?”
“In a way.” Normally quiet and steady, Maria sounded harried.
“What’s wrong?”
“Sterling tried to kill himself yesterday.”
Jake staggered back several steps. “What? Kill himself? What the hell happened? Are you sure it wasn’t an accident?” He sank onto the sofa, his head spinning. He might not’ve liked the man, but he sure as hell didn’t want him dead.
“It wasn’t,” she whispered. It stunned Jake to hear her so shaken. “Elizabeth came home from dinner with friends and found him with an empty bottle of pills and vodka. She called 9-1-1, and they came and pumped his stomach, but he’s been nonresponsive.”
“Nonresponsive?” Horrified, he held his head. “You mean he’s in a coma?”
“He’s on life support.”
