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What did any of them know about struggling for money? Mitchell certainly didn’t, not with his high-paying NHL career. Dermott might’ve, once upon a time, but he was probably rolling in cash now he had his own business, Greener Gardens. And Cooper wouldn’t have a clue either. He was all fancy cars and the latest tech toys. Nope. None of them had a clue. And he sure as heck wasn’t going to go putting out his hand and asking for their help to keep the ranch afloat. Then they’d know for sure that his attempts to run the ranch had been exactly that. An attempt. In which he’d failed.
“Want to try some pie?” Lexi said now. “It’s really good.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine.”
She nodded, as if she didn’t really believe that last comment.
So far, he’d managed to avoid her questions about what he was doing in town, simply saying it was a business thing. Bless her. She hadn’t pressed for more details, simply eyeing him in that way she had, like she could see beneath the surface of his skin to the scared little boy hiding within. His grip tightened on the coffee mug, so tight, tighter—and then the handle snapped, spilling dark brown liquid all over the table, all the way across into her lap.
“Oh shoot. I’m sorry,” he said, grabbing paper napkins by the handful from the table’s fake-wood dispenser and doing his best to mop up the mess. “I didn’t get you, did I?”
Her smile was wry, as she glanced up from dealing with the muddy drips on her side of the table. “It seems these jeans are destined for the trash.”
“I’m really sorry. I’ll get you a new pair,” he said as Marlene drew close to cluck over and clean up his mess. He thanked her, apologizing again, even as the back of his mind wondered where the heck he could get women’s jeans. Ellie would know, but he had no wish to admit this latest failure to his sister.
“You don’t need to worry,” Lexi said, as soon as Marlene left. “Truly.”
“I’m just glad the coffee wasn’t hot.”
“It’s okay. Really.”
The genuineness in her answer brought a thickening to his throat. There was something so soothing about this woman, that he could act like a clumsy fool and yet she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, if her eyes were to be believed, he might think that she could see the man he wanted to be. The man he knew he couldn’t be. But someone he still would try to be, anyway.
Those green eyes studied him now.
“What?”
“You’re stressed, aren’t you?”
“I’m not.”
“Hmm. Not telling the truth, that’s what you’re not.” Her eyes bored into his. “You’re worried.”
And she was slightly scary in how she could read him. He clearly wasn’t wearing his best relaxed cowboy face today. He glanced out the window. Wondered how soon until he could leave. A million things screamed for attention, but he was so weary of everything, it was all he could do to stay upright in the seat.
“Jackson? What’s happened?” His attention returned to Lexi. “Is it something to do with the cow the vet came to see?”
“Brutus.” Heaviness weighted his shoulders again.
“Oh. Not a cow? The bull, right?”
He nodded, gripping the corner of the table until his wrists hurt. “He’s a dud.”
She winced. “Oh no. Poor guy.”
He wasn’t entirely sure if she referred to himself or the bull. Either way felt apt.
“What does that mean for the ranch?”
He couldn’t tell her everything and had zero desire to go into all the details of the financial difficulties of the Reilly ranch. But he offered the basics, and must’ve explained enough, because she nodded, her eyes gentle as she reached her hand across the table and clasped his. “I’m sorry.”
For a moment he had the most unmanly inclination to cry. He pulled away and blinked hard, pinching the outside of his thigh until the sensation passed.
“What can you do?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Everything is too hard. I need a miracle. The ranch needs a miracle. Mom needs a miracle.”
Whoa. He hadn’t intended to admit that last thought out loud.
