“Which is how I know you’re falling for Jessie.” Jake smoothed the front of his shirt.
Robert raked his hands through his hair. “I can’t do this, again.”
Jake leaned against the edge of their father’s mahogany desk and crossed his ankles. “I’m not sure you have a choice. With matters of the heart, we’re never really in control.”
Robert rolled his eyes. “Spoken like a true newlywed, smitten by a woman he barely knew. A woman who didn’t even know herself.”
Jake didn’t bother denying Robert’s words. He only grinned that goofy grin he’d been wearing for the past year.
Robert had never wanted to wipe it off his face more than he did right now.
“The question is: what are you going to do about it?” Jake asked.
Robert punched the cushion and swore again, this time aloud.
“Good thing Mom’s not around. I’d have to hold you down while she washed your mouth out.”
“Sorry.” His emotions were getting the better of him. “But you know how I hate to admit when I’m wrong.”
“Who said you were wrong?”
Robert glared at Jake. “Are we talking about the same thing, here? How can me falling in love with Jessie again be good?”
“She told Emily she plans on getting a divorce.”
“Exactly, so what’s stopping her from leaving again once she’s free of her husband?”
Jake stared down at his boots. “Jessie’s changed. Maybe it’ll be different this time around.”
“And maybe it won’t.” The words were little more than a growl. “I’m not sure I can take that chance.”
Jake turned sympathetic eyes on Robert. He’d been the one to pick Robert up the last time Jessie left.
No. Robert couldn’t take the chance of falling in love with Jessie again. He’d barely survived last time.
He cleared his throat and stood. “I want to do everything possible to keep Jessie safe, but I can’t be around her all the time.” He turned pleading eyes on Jake.
Jake straightened from his perch on the edge of the desk and opened his laptop. He flipped it around so Robert could see the screen. “It’s a good thing I have a plan then.”
Ten minutes later, after studying Jake’s design for a security gate at the front entrance of the ranch, Robert wasn’t sure he felt much better. “The gate sounds like a good idea, but it won’t keep Pendleton from climbing through the fence and walking up to the front door.”
Jake clicked another tab on his computer. “We’ll string two lines—one high, one low—of electric wire along the front fence line. Someone would have to be pretty desperate to get past that.”
Robert noted the prices of all the components listed on the computer screen. He let out a low whistle. “That’s going to be pricey. You’ve got...what, eight miles of fence line?”
“Five.”
“Felt like fifty every time we had to paint that fence.”
They had to paint the metal triple-rail fence every three years. One year, Robert tried cutting corners by painting only the tops. But when rust spots appeared on the bottoms the next spring, he not only had to paint the fence again; he had to sand out the rust spots first.
“That fence has always been sturdy enough to keep horses and cattle in. Adding electricity seems like overkill.”
Jake shrugged. “It is.”
“Let’s hold off on the electric fence and the gate for now. I have a feeling Pendleton’s bail is going to be high. If we’re lucky, he won’t get out of jail for the next five to ten years.”
But something deep inside Robert told him they wouldn’t be so lucky.
