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“Didn’t know you were a runner,” Greg Taggett said as she walked past the horse barn.
“I just started,” Morgan told the foreman.
“You’re doing great. I go to all my son’s track meets, and you set a good pace.”
Morgan stopped. “Your son runs?” Owen Taggett was a senior at the high school, but she didn’t pay attention to the small track-and-field team—they were usually too serious to be much fun.
“Sure does. He just got an athletic scholarship.”
“Owen doesn’t want to be a rancher?”
“Hasn’t made up his mind yet. This way he’ll have choices.”
The same old sick feeling hit her stomach, so Morgan nodded and started walking again. Her dad had never gotten a choice. He was supposed to have gone to college, but he hadn’t been able to because of her.
“Have a pleasant run?” Dad asked as she came into the kitchen. He was drinking a cup of coffee and eating a bowl of oatmeal.
She shrugged. “Cory liked it.”
“Always take him when you go, okay?”
Morgan stared into the cereal bowl she was filling. Hot, chewy oatmeal, that was what she liked, none of that overcooked junk. Flora must have made it.
“Yeah,” she said. “Cory always wants to go.”
“True, but make sure of it anyway, and take the satellite phone. If you fell or anything, you’d be able to get help faster.”
It sounded as if he was really worried about her. Okay, so maybe he was. He tried to make sure everyone on the ranch stayed safe and healthy; that was one of his big things, and her dad always took care of his responsibilities.
Dropping into a chair at the kitchen table, she stirred her cereal and ate a mouthful. “When is everyone coming?” she asked.
“In an hour.”
“Are...um, Elizabeth and Hank coming, too?” She’d almost called them Grandma and Grandpa, same as Alex and DeeDee.
“Not today.”
It was too bad. The Garrisons were pretty awesome for people that old. On the trip to Yellowstone they’d started treating her like one of their great-grandkids, too, along with DeeDee and Alex. It had been nice, even if they were just being polite.
* * *
KAYLA PULLED UP in front of Jackson’s large house at nine o’clock.
“Whoa.” DeeDee stared at the house. “That’s not the kind of ranch you see in the movies.”
“It must suit Morgan and Jackson,” Kayla said.
There was no point in explaining that the McGregors came from old money and Jackson had been able to build whatever he wanted. The McGregors were true ranchers, but they didn’t need to raise cattle to make a living. They had oil or something from Texas and Oklahoma.
DeeDee opened the door and jumped out.
“Come on, kiddo,” Kayla urged her son. “You aren’t facing a firing squad.”
“I know,” he muttered.
“Try treating Jackson the way you would a friend,” Kayla suggested. “He’s not a terrible person.”
“I guess.”
His continued reticence bothered Kayla, though Alex had always been hard to read.
“I know this isn’t what you expected when you came to Schuyler,” she said, hoping he’d open up with the right encouragement.
“Yeah.”
“What did you expect?” she probed once more.
Alex made a face. “I don’t know. It was probably stupid anyway.” He unbuckled his belt and dragged himself from the car.
Kayla wasn’t reassured as she followed him. If they couldn’t deal with the problem, Alex might pull another stunt even more serious than running away to meet his great-grandparents.
Jackson met them on the porch, the quintessential rancher in his worn Levi’s and long-sleeved work shirt—strong, muscular, virile. Damn. She hated the way her body was betraying her.
“Jackson, do you have time to teach me to ride while Morgan teaches Alex?” DeeDee asked.
“I’ll teach you both.”
“Naw, I’m going to show Alex,” Morgan declared.
Kayla’s attention was instantly hijacked from sex to the immediate situation. She didn’t know whether to chortle or be sympathetic.
To his credit, Jackson gave DeeDee a warm smile. “Sure, but maybe Morgan wants to give you both a tour of the place first.” Yet as the three kids went off together, Kayla watched disappointment cross his face.
“Not what you planned?” she asked.
“You urged me to relax and let things happen naturally, but what’s happening is that my son gets along great with his sister and avoids me at every turn.” He sighed. “Sorry. I know I shouldn’t keep blasting off about it.”
