Page 22 of Our Sweet Destiny
Chapter Thirteen
EARLY SUNDAY MORNING, after another cold shower and another fitful night’s sleep, Rex mounted Hope for her predawn exercise. Even with his thick flannel shirt and his Stetson trapping in the heat on his pate, he still felt a chill as Hope walked out of the barn and into the yard. He let her lead the way today and assumed she’d head toward the back trail, but instead Hope rounded the barn toward the trail that headed east. His father’s gruff voice caught him by surprise. He knew his father wasn’t on the phone—he didn’t carry a cell phone, and Rex couldn’t remember the last time he’d been up that early.
He found his father, also clad in a flannel shirt, hat, and jeans, sitting on the dewy grass by a water barrel behind the barn. His head was bowed, his arms stretched over his knees, and his left hand was grasping his right fist, releasing, then grabbing it again. Rex drew his brows together.
“Dad?”
Hal turned his head, and Rex dismounted at the sight of strain on his father’s face. Deep lines crossed his leathery skin.
“Dad, what is it? Is it your heart?”
While Savannah and some of his other siblings had written off his father’s supposed conversations with his mother, Rex lived night and day at his father’s ranch, and he wasn’t so sure. Having heard his father talking to seemingly no one too many times to count, some of those times ending with him teary eyed, Rex wasn’t as quick to disbelieve. The look on his father’s face had Rex reliving the painful few days he’d spent in the hospital and the troubled look he’d had in the hours before.
“No, it isn’t my heart,” Hal snapped.
Rex looked around the empty acreage. “Who are you talking to?”
“Who do you think I’m talking to?”
“Mom.” He didn’t mean to sound like he was simply relenting to a stupid question, but he wasn’t quite sure what to make of the situation.
“Of course it’s Adriana. Who else would it be? She’s giving me fits, all upset about something.” He pushed to his feet and grumbled.
Rex smiled. Even when his father was complaining about her, the love in his eyes still blazed. It occurred to him then that he had much the same feelings about Jade. Her mouthiness drove him batty, but in a way that also drove a stake right through his heart.
“Want me to skip Hope’s ride? Remember what happened last time you got all worked up.” Rex had more respect for his father than any other man alive. He’d taught Rex to be a man, to stand up for his family, and the value of loyalty and honor, the principles Rex held in the highest regard. There was no denying, though, that his father had a softer side. He saw it every time he interacted with Savannah, every time one of his children had trouble and needed help. As he stood beside the man who meant the world to him, he wished he could confide in him about Jade. If she had been any other woman, from any other family, his father would have wrapped her in his arms and welcomed her without even knowing a thing about her. If one of his children fell in love, he loved right alongside them. He’d proven that with Max the first day she pulled into their driveway. His father had taken her under his wing and swept her into the family fold—and Treat hadn’t even been home.
He contemplated telling him now.Dad, I gotta talk to you about someone. It’s Jade, Dad, Jade Johnson.He imagined his father’s likely response.Son, you know better than to bring that no-good family’s name onto our property.On the heels of Jade’s desire to just be friends, there was no point in getting him even more riled up.
“I’m fine, Rex. Hope needs you. Take the old girl out. I’m not staying out here anyway. I’m going back to bed.” He turned to look into Hope’s empty stall and shook his head. “That mother of yours is something else.”
Rex watched his father saunter away. At times like these, he wanted to believe his father was still in contact with his mother. In fact, he felt a stab of jealousy at the idea.
THE WIDE TRAIL to the east of the ranch wound deep into the woods, parallel to the road. The woods provided a buffer from the pavement, but during the afternoon and evening, the bustle of trucks and horse trailers carried in the wind. In the predawn hours of Rex’s Sunday ride, the air carried only the sounds of scurrying on the forest floor and the rustling of leaves in the gentle wind. He was glad for the silence, though the farther Hope drew him away from the ranch, the nearer they were to the Johnson ranch, which caused his heart to beat a little faster. Rex worked hard not to translate that racing pulse into a spurring of gait. He wanted to prolong his Sunday-morning ride, not shorten it. He controlled the adrenaline rush by gripping the leather reins a little tighter and clenching his jaw against the thoughts that were causing his stomach to tighten.
Hope plodded along. She was comfortable on all of the trails around the ranch. She’d been riding them for more than twenty years; she should be comfortable on them. But today it was Rex who was uncomfortable as they neared the breach of the trail where it feathered out into a wide-open field bordering the Johnson property. He laid the reins against Hope’s neck, guiding her toward the road. She remained steadfast in her pace and direction, heading straight for the Johnson driveway.
Rex tugged harder, gave her a tap with his booted heel, and still she worked against him. The harder he urged, the more she pulled her head in the other direction.Stubborn old girl.Given that Hope had never been a temperamental horse and that behavioral changes in horses often reflected distress, Rex paid extra attention to her. He leaned forward and ran his hands down her neck.
“It’s okay, Hope. You’re doing fine. I’ll follow your lead just as long as you don’t move down their property and get Mr. Johnson all riled up.”
Hopeneighed, moving her head up and down in an exaggerated fashion.
“Alrighty. You lead. I’ll ride,” Rex said with a smile. Hope had a hold on his heart like Savannah and his brothers did. Everything about Hope reminded him of his mother, from her sweet demeanor to her graceful beauty. And now, he realized, her stubbornness, too.
The grass gave way to gravel as they reached the edge of the Johnson driveway, and Rex held his breath as they crossed. Their modest brick rambler was built in the center of their property. It was much smaller than the Braden’s sprawling home and built closer to the road. The house was dark, and Rex wondered if Jade was still asleep and if she dreamed of him as often as he did of her.
When they reached the end of the driveway and Hope’s foot met the grass once again, she stopped. The sun was beginning its ascent, and Rex knew that any rancher worth his weight would soon be switching on their lights and preparing for the day.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he urged, giving her a little tap with his heel while stroking her mane. Hope didn’t budge. “Let’s go. Come on, baby.” He snapped the reins lightly, but Hope didn’t even flinch.
Rex stole a glance at the house just as someone walked across the stretch of grass between the house and the barn.
“Let’s go, Hope. Now we have to move. Come on, sweet girl,” he urged again. His patience frayed a little more with each passing second as he watched the figure. He squinted into the rising sunlight, noticing the smooth, lithesome movements that he would recognize anywhere. Jade turned toward the pasture and stretched her arms toward the sun and then out to the sides before lowering them. He caught his breath at her radiance; alone in the early-morning hours, against the backdrop of blossoming trees and sprawling pastures, she was a harmonious vision of beauty. Rex watched her with a passionate heart, aching to sit beside her. He rubbed his right palm with the fingers of his left hand; the feel of her silken hair lingered. His mind didn’t run with the thought in the direction of fistfuls of her hair or that glorious body against his. Instead it moved in an equally fervent, though more pervasive, fantasy of sharing coffee, talking, getting to know each other on a more personal—more intimate—level than solely sexual. As that unfamiliar yearning took hold in his gut and she continued into the barn, Rex realized that Hope had begun a slow walk across the grass and into the adjacent woods. She veered down a meager trail, taking each step with care, stopping when she needed to adjust her angle but remaining true to her path, wherever it was that she was heading.
Rex didn’t move to correct the guiding horse. She’d led him to discover something about himself that he had never experienced before—and it occurred to him then, as Hope positioned her body parallel to the barn doors, under the cover of the trees, that perhaps he’d been looking for Jade all his life. Maybe each woman he bedded, he’d been unknowingly comparing to the Jade he’d known as a girl and then as a young woman. Silently, secretly pushing away thoughts about the woman he continually drove away in an effort to remain loyal to his father. Perhaps, he thought, as he watched her beautiful silhouette in the shadowy glow of the barn, her hands splayed on the enormous stallion’s side, her head bowed, just maybe, pushing those thoughts away had been a mistake.
