Coming Home To The Cattleman. Judy ChristenberryЧитать онлайн книгу.
the gentlemanly behavior his mother had taught him. After she lifted her bag from the trunk of her rental car, Jason reached out and took it. Without waiting for her, he started toward the house.
When he didn’t hear her following him, he turned around. “Aren’t you coming, Miss Watson?”
Jason noticed that she simply stood looking up at the house, wringing her hands together as though she was nervous. Eventually she shook herself and looked Jason squarely in the eye. “Sorry. Yes! Yes, I’m coming.” She started walking toward the house.
Her shoes had a low heel. Acceptable wear. In the hard-packed dirt, she was able to move all right. He couldn’t fault her there. But he could fault her on her treatment of her father.
Eighteen years of silence and she shows up now to “get to know him.” Why hadn’t she answered his letters over the years? Why hadn’t she ever called? Sam hadn’t complained. At least, not to Jason. But he knew how much her absence had hurt him. And now she was back.
Just then Rachel came to the back door, watching them approach. Jason didn’t know what Rachel thought about Jennifer’s reappearance. She was intensely loyal to Sam, always had been, and she had stuck by him when he had hit rock bottom. Maybe she would ignore this smartly dressed young woman. Jason sure hoped so.
But his hope for Rachel’s support disappeared as soon as she stepped outside the house. The young woman’s face lit up and she hurried to meet Rachel.
“Oh, Rachel,” she said with a sob, wrapping her arms around the housekeeper.
“Jenny,” Rachel said, an uncertain smile on her face and tears in her eyes as she stepped back from the younger woman’s hug to look at her. “You have certainly grown up.”
“I should hope so,” Jennifer said, her voice shaking.
“I’m twenty-six now.”
“I know, it’s been so long. Come on in. I’m glad you’ve come.”
Jenny paused before asking, “Is…is he here?”
Rachel shot Jason a quick knowing look. Then she said, “No, he’s not here yet.”
“I’m…I’m anxious to see him. Is he doing all right?”
“He’s fine,” Jason said, then added, “At least he was until he got your letter.”
Both women turned to stare at him, but he didn’t back down. He’d seen the anguish Sam had suffered when he’d read the letter that had arrived just a couple of weeks ago. Jason had feared he would reach for the nearest bottle again. But he hadn’t.
Rachel led Jennifer into the kitchen and Jason followed.
“I’ll take your bag up to your room,” he growled.
“No!” She looked him in the eye. “I’ll wait until he comes. He may prefer that I…I leave.”
“No, he won’t, honey,” Rachel assured Jennifer.
She smiled at Rachel, a small smile full of long history. “I think I should wait, anyway. He may r-regret his offer of hospitality.”
An uncomfortable silence fell between the group. “How about a glass of iced tea?” Rachel said, trying to lighten the mood.
“I’d love one.”
Jason set her bag against the wall. “I’ll take a glass, too, Rachel, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, Jason. I even made some cookies. You used to love them, Jenny.”
“Your oatmeal-raisin-pecan cookies? They are so good! I’ve never found any like them anywhere else.”
“I’m glad you remember them,” Rachel said with a smile.
Jennifer looked at her. “I remember a lot.”
They all heard the automobile coming down the driveway. Jason thought Jennifer would be pleased, but she seemed to freeze, staring at the back door but not moving.
Rachel walked to the window over the sink. “That’s your daddy,” she said to Jennifer.
As if facing a firing squad, Jennifer slowly stood, continuing to stare at the back door.
Jennifer’s stomach had butterflies that were doing flips. Many years ago she’d almost made herself sick with missing her father and her home. She’d pleaded with her mother to take her back to her father’s ranch. But her mother had been adamant that her father didn’t want her. He would have preferred to have had a son.
Over the years Jennifer had hung on to the hope that her father would come back for her, but he never had. Maybe her mother had been right after all. The young man who claimed to be his partner was only a few years older than her. Had her father transferred his affection for Jennifer to Jason Welborn?
Was that why he’d never answered her letters? She’d worked so hard on them, pouring out her love and hope for a reunion. She’d hurried home from school each day, looking for a letter from her daddy.
Nothing.
Now, at twenty-six, she needed to know just what had happened all those years ago. So she had written to her father one final time, asking to meet him. She hadn’t been sure he’d respond or if he’d even want to meet her. But she’d come anyway, hoping for a miracle.
The back door opened and the man she remembered, with a few more lines around his eyes and a few more gray hairs, stood in front of her. At least, she thought she remembered him. There’d been no pictures of him.
Her heart was in her mouth. Words couldn’t get past that lump. She stared at him, wanting so badly to close the gap between them by rushing into his arms. But he did nothing to encourage her, and her feet remained glued to the floor.
Rachel seemed to realize her predicament. “Look, Sam, Jenny’s come home.”
“It hasn’t been her home for eighteen years, Rachel,” Sam said harshly.
Jennifer felt the blood leave her face, and she wavered, fearing she would faint. Such rejection in the face of her hopes. “Hello…Sam.” She didn’t dare call him Dad. He’d made his feelings clear.
“Hello.”
Jennifer slowly sat down. “I appreciate the offer to stay here. It was more than generous.” Her voice didn’t sound right, but it was the best she could do.
He nodded and looked away.
If he wasn’t even going to look at her, then she had no reason to stay. She stood again and started for her bag. “I think I’ll go back to the hotel.”
“No! No, you’ll stay here. I won’t have the town talking about us!”
Jennifer sat back down. She couldn’t stand up to receive the indictment that she felt was coming. She hadn’t wanted to believe all her mother’s rantings about her father, but maybe now she should.
“Do you want some iced tea, Sam?” Rachel asked.
“Yeah, that would be good.” Sam moved to the table but took the seat farthest from Jennifer. As if she carried a disease.
Jason took the seat next to Sam as though he was showing what side he was on. Was he trying to prove to Jennifer how much more her father favored him over her?
Jennifer bent her head, hoping to hide the tears she felt forming in her eyes. She was beginning to think it had been a mistake to come here. How could she stay here? How could she accept her father’s rejection for a second time?
“How are you, Jennifer?” Sam asked after a minute.
She blinked several times before she raised her head. “I’m fine. I…I was surprised to see that the place still looks the same,” she said.
“We’re managing to stay afloat.