Page 70 of Kayla's Cowboy

“How many people are you expecting?” Kayla asked.

“The Garrisons will be here, along with the five of us, plus my mom and dad, my brothers and sisters, and assorted aunts and uncles, including Great-Uncle Mitch and two of my great-aunts. Also all four of my—”

Kayla held up her hand in a whoa gesture. “I don’t think Alex will remember many of their names, much less get to know them all at one time.”

“Of course not, but this is mostly a welcome gathering.” He frowned. “Do you think it’s too much? They’re anxious to meet Alex, but I don’t want to freak him out.”

She didn’t answer right away, her face thoughtful. “It should be fine if it’s only a general welcome. Alex isn’t used to having extended family, but he’ll have to get accustomed to it, either now or later.”

Jackson was beginning to recognize Kayla’s pattern of trying to balance between protecting her children and letting them be challenged.

“How about DeeDee?” he asked.

“I told her she didn’t have to attend, but she liked it when Alex said he wanted her to be here.”

Jackson was pleased; he’d become fond of the sassy youngster and would have missed her.

As for his son? Kayla was right. Love didn’t come automatically because of a common gene pool, but he had grown to love Alex.

* * *

KAYLA WENT INSIDE to help Flora, but instead was handed a plate of thick ham-and-cheese sandwiches.

“Everything is in hand,” the housekeeper told her briskly. “Eat lunch and put your feet up. It’s hours yet before dinner.”

Smiling, Kayla went outside to sit in the shade by the pool. The sandwiches were delicious, made with crusty bread and a tangy gourmet mustard, but she couldn’t manage more than one. Flora must think she had the appetite of a lumberjack.

A light breeze moderated the heat, but on the opposite side of the pool, Kayla saw Jackson and his men setting up an industrial-size evaporative cooler near the awning. It was similar to the type she’d once seen at a greenhouse in California and would make the gathering more enjoyable should the afternoon temperatures become intense.

The cowhands nodded to her courteously, tipping their hats like gentlemen from a Gary Cooper Western. They’d been unfailingly polite, watching their language around her and DeeDee and rushing to offer assistance if they thought there was the slightest need.

Perhaps on a ranch, near an isolated town like Schuyler, it was understandable that men were gender biased. Schuyler didn’t even have an airport with commercial flights, just an airfield the ranchers used if they didn’t have a landing strip of their own. It would be a two-hour drive into Billings the next day just to meet Sandy and Keri at the airport.

Jackson thanked his men as they finished by rolling in a large barbecue unit. Kayla wrinkled her nose—they loved barbecuing in Schuyler, and it was hard on her vegetarian son. If his pride hadn’t been on the line, she was certain he would have already succumbed to temptation.

“Have something to drink,” Jackson said, setting a huge ice chest near her chaise. Inside was a wide variety of sodas and fruit juices packed in ice.

“Thanks. And please eat the rest of those sandwiches so Flora isn’t insulted.” She opened a bottle of cranberry juice and gestured toward the awning. “I’ve seen professional events with less polish.”

“The family likes coming here because the pool is even larger than the one my parents built, so it made sense to get the right equipment to be comfortable,” he explained between bites of ham and cheese. “Officially we’re starting around five, but some will arrive earlier to swim or play volleyball or whatever. Great-Uncle Mitch and my two grandfathers are addicted to tossing horseshoes, so they’ll head for the horseshoe pit.”

“Obviously the Nelsons and McGregors like to both work and play hard.”

“You haven’t seen much evidence that I work hard the past few weeks,” Jackson said with a rueful grimace. “Believe me, this is a busy season on the ranch and I’m normally charging around fourteen hours a day.”

“I believe you. I don’t think your men would respect you so much if you didn’t work alongside them,” Kayla murmured.

He almost seemed embarrassed by the compliment. “Thanks. Uh, how about a game while we’re waiting?”

A tall stack of board games had been carried from the pool house and they pulled out an old classic, Scrabble. She laughed when he tried to score with ridiculous combinations, claiming DeeDee as his inspiration.

Yet inevitably she tensed as the family began arriving and Jackson introduced her as Alex’s mother. She lifted her chin. There was nothing to be uncomfortable about—she was a successful professional with two great children, not the scared, pregnant teenager who’d fled Schuyler.

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