“Clint can help you with that.”
“Is there some way that I can help with this project?” Todd broke in. “I’d be glad to do something.”
“We’ll need kitchen help, and people to clean the grounds and the cabins.” Jenna reached for her purse and pulled out a pen. She started to write, but Adam covered her hand with his.
She looked at his hand on hers and then up, meeting a look that asked her to stop, to let it go. He turned to Pastor Todd.
“Let’s talk about it later, maybe tomorrow. Not now.”
He was in denial. Poor thing. And so was Jenna if she thought she was immune to a gorgeous man. She moved the hand that was still under his, and he squeezed a little before sliding his hand away.
“Okay, tomorrow.” But she was no longer as sure as she had been. Adam smiled at her, like he knew what she was thinking. So she said something different to prove him wrong. “Clint will be back tomorrow.”
With that she let it go, because it hit her that she had just invited this man into her life. He was the last person she needed filling space in her world, in her days.
The horse tied in the center aisle of the barn stomped at flies and shook her head to show her displeasure with the wormer paste they’d pushed into her mouth. The tube said green apple. Jenna had no intentions of trying it, but she doubted it tasted anything like an apple. She patted the horse’s golden palomino rump and walked around to her side, the injection ready with the animal’s immunizations. Clint stood to the side. He and Willow had come home early and he’d surprised Jenna by showing up this morning to help with the horses.
“Why are you so quiet today?” Clint slipped the file back into the box of supplies he’d brought in. This horse’s hooves hadn’t needed trimming, which meant he had just stood back and watched as Jenna did what she needed to do.
And now she wished she had more to do so she could ignore his question. He knew her far too well.
“I’m not quiet.”
“Yes, you are. Normally when we get home from a trip you have a million questions. ‘How did Jason do this week?’ He did great, by the way. Got tossed on his head.”
She looked up. Leaning against the horse’s back, watching from the opposite side of Clint. “Is he okay?”
Jason was one of her best friends. She sometimes regretted that they’d never really felt anything more than friendship. He’d make a great husband for someone. He was kind, funny, wealthy. And not the guy for her.
“He’s fine. And Dolly has gone ten outs without being ridden.”
“That’s great. I bet Willow is proud.”
“She is. They’re considering him for the finals at the end of the year.”
“Great.”
“And then we flew home in the pickup.”
“I’m so glad.”
“And you’re not listening to me.”
Jenna stared out the door at the boys, watching them play in the grassy area near the barn. The dog was sitting nearby, watching, the way he watched cattle in the field. If he had to, he’d round the boys up and drive them to her. They loved it when he did that. Sometimes they wandered away from her just to see if the dog would circle and move them back to Jenna. The nature of a cow dog was to herd. Jenna was glad she’d brought home the black-and-white border collie. It had been a cute, fluffy puppy, and was now a great dog.
“Jenna, is everything okay?”
“Of course it is. I’m just tired.” She smiled back at her brother. “Let’s get this horse out of here and bring Jinx in.”
“Who is that?” Clint walked to the door as the low rumble of an engine and crunch of tires on gravel gave an advance warning that they had company. And then the dog barked.
Dog. She really needed to name that poor animal. It was probably too late. The boys called him Puppy and Jenna called him Dog. He came to either name so it seemed wrong to call him something like Fluffy or Blue.
“I don’t know.” Jenna tossed the used needle into the trash.
“Big, blue truck.”
She groaned and Clint shot her a look. “You know who it is? Did you sell that roan gelding?”
“Jenna?”
“It’s Adam Mackenzie.” She untied the horse, rubbing her neck. “Come on, girl.”
“That’s it? Adam Mackenzie is pulling up to the barn and you act like you expected him?”
“He’s the mystery owner of the camp.”
“Adam is building a youth camp?” Clint followed her to the barn door with the mare. “The mystery deepens.”
Jenna laughed. “It isn’t a mystery. Billy was his cousin and he convinced Adam to buy the land and start this camp.”
“Sis, you know he’s trouble, right?”
“I don’t think he’s trouble. I think he’s confused.”
Clint shook his head. “Remember when you thought a baby skunk would be a good pet because it didn’t spray you?”
“I remember.”
She laughed at the memory. Because eventually the skunk did spray her. She gave it to a zoo and missed school for a week. She really did learn by her mistakes. Sometimes it just took a few tries before the lesson sank in.
Men were included in the list of mistakes she’d learned her lesson from. The father of her boys had walked out on her. He went back to California, and she let him go because she knew she couldn’t force him to stay and love them. The soldier she’d fallen in love with, he’d written her a Dear Jane letter after her surgery.
She would never again own a pet skunk. She would never again fall for a pretty face and perfect words. She had a five-year plan that didn’t include falling in love.
“He’s getting out of his truck,” Clint warned as he took the halter off the mare and slapped her rump to send her back to the field with the rest of the horses.
Jenna nodded. “He wants to talk to you about buying horses. And since he’s here to see you, I’m going to the house.”
“Are you running?” Clint followed her to the front of the barn. And the twins were no longer sitting in the grassy area with their toy cars.
“Nope, just leaving.”
“Are you afraid of him?” Clint caught hold of her arm. “Jenna, did he say something to you?”
“No, and I’m not afraid.” Much. “I have to check on the boys. They’ve abandoned the road they were building for their toy trucks. I need to see where they went.”
“That’s because they’re showing Adam something.” He nodded in the direction of the blue truck that was parked a short distance from her house.
“Great.” She watched the boys open their hands. Two blond-headed miniatures with sneaky grins on their faces, and dirt. They needed baths.
The giant in front of them jumped back from their open hands, either feigning fear or truly afraid. The boys laughed, belly laughs, and then they ran off.
Adam Mackenzie turned toward the barn, his smile a little frazzled. He wasn’t used to kids. She had to give him points for trying. And she wasn’t going to escape because he was heading their way.
Who could escape that moment when they felt as if their insides had jelled and their breath caught somewhere midway between lungs and heart?