Rich Rancher's Redemption. Maureen ChildЧитать онлайн книгу.
pointed out.
“And if I let him help,” Jillian countered, “then I feel guilty for taking advantage of a man who owes me nothing.”
“No, you won’t,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “You’re too smart for that. You’re a mother. You have your kid to think of. So you’ll do the smart thing and take a helping hand when it’s offered.”
She tipped her head to study him. “Oh, will I?”
Her long, blond ponytail swung forward to lie over her shoulder and across her breast. His hands itched to do the same. Hell. He was jealous of her hair. How sad was that?
“Yeah,” Jesse said, his gaze locked with hers. “You will.”
“You two just let me know when it’s my turn to talk,” Will muttered.
“He’s not going to let this go until you let him help,” Jesse said.
“He’s right about that anyway,” Will broke in, grabbing his chance to get a few words in.
“Why do you care what I do or don’t?” Jillian asked, but the question was for Jesse, not Will.
Truthfully, he wasn’t entirely sure why her welfare mattered to him one way or the other. He shrugged. “Maybe it’s because my mom was a single mother when she married Will’s daddy. Because I remember how hard it was for her before we came to live here at the ranch.”
Her gaze lowered briefly before she looked at him again. In her eyes, he saw acceptance. She gave him an almost imperceptible nod before looking at Will. “Okay, then. I’ll take your help and thank you for it.”
Will smiled. “You don’t have to thank me. Like my brother said, you’re helping me out of a sea of guilt just by saying yes.”
Jesse watched her and knew she was still a little uneasy with her decision, but for her daughter’s sake, she was clearly willing to swallow a bit of her pride.
“You were living and working in Vegas,” Will said. “Is that right?”
Jillian’s shoulders squared and her spine snapped straight as a plank. As if just the word Vegas invited judgment that she was prepared to defend herself against. “That’s right.”
“I can send you back there,” Will was saying, “You probably gave up your apartment when you came to Texas, so I could help you get a new one, if you like. Or if you prefer, I’ll find you a nice place here in Royal.”
She chewed at her bottom lip and Jesse’s groin went rock-hard in a flash of heat. Damn.
“I’d rather stay here in Royal,” Jillian finally said, then added, “if you don’t mind any gossip that might spring up. People will know why I came here—thinking you were Mackenzie’s father and all.”
“Doesn’t bother me,” Will assured her. “There’s always gossip about one thing or another and it’ll fade. But this is up to you. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go home?”
Now a sad smile briefly curved her wide, fantastic mouth. “Vegas was never home. Just a place to live and work. I came here for a fresh start. For Mac and for me. I’d still like that.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Will said, and walked back around to the chair behind the desk. “We own a lot of property in Royal. I’m sure we’ve got an apartment—”
“It doesn’t have to be anything big. Or fancy,” Jillian added quickly. “Just clean and safe. Somewhere we can be until I find a job and get a place of my own.”
“But—”
Will was going to argue, but Jesse knew what the woman meant. She was willing to take help but didn’t want to feel beholden as she would if Will tried to give her some extravagant apartment.
“There’s a place off Main.” Both Will and Jillian looked at him. “Good building. Safe. Clean. They’re studio apartments, but big enough for you and a baby.”
Relief shone in her eyes and she nodded even as Will sputtered, “We can do better than a studio. A place with more room. A yard, maybe—”
“No.” Jillian shook her head, looked at Will and said, “This one sounds perfect. We’ll take it.” Then she turned her gaze back to Jesse. She looked at him for a long moment, then said simply, “Thank you.”
Those eyes of hers met his steadily, and he felt that swift tug of something hot again. He didn’t let her know that, though. “You’re welcome.”
* * *
“How’d it go?”
Jillian walked into the large, plush living room of Lucy Navarro Bradshaw’s suite at the Ace In the Hole ranch. The room was huge and airy, with floor-to-ceiling windows along the front wall, displaying a wide view of the ranch the Sanders family called home. The furniture was feminine without being frilly. Overstuffed couches and chairs covered in cream fabric splashed with blue and yellow flowers. Heavy, pale oak tables held stacks of books and brass lamps with amber shades. Rugs in pale, subtle colors dotted the gleaming wood floors and to make it all seem less like a photo shoot layout, toys, trucks and coloring books were scattered everywhere.
Ordinarily, Jillian would have felt completely out of place in such an elegant, old-money kind of home. But Lucy made the difference here.
At five feet six inches, Lucy was much shorter than Jillian’s five foot ten. She had layered brown hair, big blue eyes and a friendly smile that had welcomed Jillian from the first. Thanks to Lucy, even with everything that had been going on for the last two weeks, Jillian hadn’t felt so alone in Royal.
She didn’t know why Lucy had befriended her, but she was grateful. Jillian had left behind everything she’d ever known when she came to Royal, Texas, hoping for some sort of settlement from the estate of the man she’d thought was her baby girl’s father. Will Sanders. It wasn’t until the service for Will, when the man himself had walked through the door, that Jillian had realized she’d been duped. A damn impostor, posing as the rich, successful Will Sanders, had gotten past Jillian’s defenses and left her pregnant. Now she had no home, no job, very little money and a daughter to provide for.
Thinking of her little girl had Jillian’s gaze sliding to Baby Mac, playing with Lucy’s son, Brody. The tiny girl had soft blond hair, big hazel eyes and a dimple in her right cheek that never failed to tug at Jillian’s heart. Mackenzie Norris, closing in on two years old, and the light of her mommy’s life.
There was nothing Jillian wouldn’t do for her daughter.
“Jillian?” Lucy asked. “Earth to Jillian...”
“What?” She gave herself a shake and smiled a little. “Sorry. Mental wandering.”
“Don’t worry. Happens to me all the time,” Lucy assured her.
“Mommy!” Mac’s face lit up. “I color.”
“I can see that,” Jillian said, taking a spot on the floor beside Lucy and her son, the small, sandy-haired boy with eyes the color of root beer.
Brody, in his four-year-old wisdom, tried to whisper, “She goes outside the lines.”
Lucy laughed and skimmed one hand down her son’s head. “She’s still little.”
Yes, that was the reason, Jillian thought, but a part of her hoped that Mac always went outside the lines. She wanted her little girl to push envelopes, to reach for stars and every other heartwarming cliché on the books.
“Why don’t you take Mac to your room and show her your books,” Lucy suggested.
“Okay.” Brody stood up and held one hand down to the toddler already scrambling to go with him.
When the kids were out of the room, Lucy gathered up the crayons and tucked them into a wide, plastic box. “So,” she asked, slanting