Marrying an Older Man Read online

  Jesse's mouth twisted wryly. "She showed me her driver's license, and as a matter of fact, she's only just twenty-one. Her birthday was the eleventh."

  "Well, if that don't beat all," Tiger mused, grinning. "Hired on her birthday. Must be some kind of an omen there."

  It was an omen, all right, Jess told himself as he quickened his strides, leaving Tiger behind again. It was a sure sign that he was every bit as old as he felt, and that's all it was for him. Usually he didn't mind too much the swift passage of the years, but he found that he was still enough of a bastard not to want to have to watch Handsome make time with that pretty little Caroline.

  As a matter of fact, he was darn tired of watching from the sidelines while the world paired up. It was just the sort of thing that had secretly pained him for a long time. It was bad enough that his little brother Ryeland had gotten over his own disastrous first marriage and recently found love again, not that Jess begrudged him his happiness. He'd always suspected that Rye belonged with someone. He'd even encouraged Rye, in his own way, to give love a chance. But Rye was in New Mexico with his new bride, and it was easy to be happy for him at a distance. Now the world's obsession with organizing itself into couples had come right onto the home place where there was no escaping it.

  Jess had no doubt that Nancy had meant it as a favor for both himself and young Caroline, but still he wished mightily that she'd kept her lip as tightly buttoned in this case as she had in the past But there he went again, getting all caught up. in himself when his mother so obviously needed the help. Old habits died hard and sometimes not at all, which was exactly why he was on his own—and always would be.

  The back door opened, and Sarah recognized Jesse's footsteps in the hall. Her gaze went immediately to Caroline. She had already abandoned the corn bread batter she was putting together and was reaching behind her for the strings of her apron. Tugging them free, she whipped off the utilitarian garment as she moved toward the door. Sarah smiled down at the sink before which she stood, Caroline was obviously doing her best to attract Jesse's attention. She had been throwing herself into Jesse's path at every opportunity for days now. Plunging her hands into die warm dishwater, Sarah listened unabashedly.

  "Hello, Jesse," she heard Caroline say warmly.

  A heartbeat passed before Jesse boomed in a too-hearty voice, "Well, hello, Miss Caroline," in exactly die same tone he'd use wim a precocious six-year-old. Sarah winced.

  "Can I get you anydiing?" Caroline asked hopefully. "A cup of coffee? We have some in die keeper, but I'll be glad to make afresh pot, if you like."

  "Hmm?" Jesse sounded distracted. "Oh. No, thanks. I'll help myself to something later."

  Sarah frowned. What was wrong widi dial son of hers? Didn't he know when a pretty young woman was interested in him? Or had he been alone so long mat he'd forgotten die way of dungs? She shook her head, an old worry nagging at her. :< Kay had died so long ago that Sarah sometimes had trouble remembering her late daughter-in-law's face. Yet Jesse continued to hold on to die pain of her loss. It bothered Sarah because it dkte't seem right somehow: Before Kay's death, she had worried that the marriage hadn't seemed strong or intense enough. Truthfully, she hadn't been certain dial Jesse and Kay were even in love. Having grown up together, they seemed more like friends or buddies man lovers and spouses. But rnen Kay had died, and Jesse had been stricken in some way that Sarah couldn't even understand. She'd supposed at die time that he'd loved Kay far psiore-than she'd realized. Over the years, however, she'd won-I if it wasn't guilt because of the way Kay had died. It had been an accident, of course, a freakish combination of natural disaster and modern technology, but survivors sometimes blamed themselves, and Jesse did seem compelled to take responsibility for the world at large.

  Recently her younger son's happiness in his new marriage had made Sarah realize that she didn't want her older son to continue his solitary existence. Despite the state of her own marriage, she wanted Jesse to know the kind of partnership she and Haney had once had—before age and arthritis had robbed her of the vitality that her husband still possessed. Sarah pushed mat thought away as she focused on the sound of Caroline's voice.

  "I starched your jeans, just the way you like them," she was saying.

  "Did you?" Jesse replied mildly. "That's nice."

  Exasperated, Sarah wondered if it was time to have a talk with her thickheaded son. Didn't he realize how hard Caroline worked to please him? She'd put a knife-edge crease on his precious blue jeans. Any food he liked, she saw to it that he had it He'd gotten his bed changed twice this week because of a passing comment on the pleasure of sleeping on crisp sheets. Sarah expected that Caroline would be ironing them next! And it all went right by Jesse without making the slightest impression. Drying her hands, she turned toward the doorway just as a crestfallen Caroline wandered back into the room. Her resolve suddenly fixed, Sarah lifted her chin.

  "Caroline, I completely forgot that I sprinkled powdered cleaner hi my shower this morning and it was wet. If one of us doesn't take care of it, that stuff will be set like cement."

  "Vinegar 'will dissolve it. I'll take care of it."

  "Thank you, dear." Jesse clumped past the doorway just then,

  perusing a stack of mail. "Son," Sarah called, "can I have a

  word with you?" '

  He stuck his head around the edge of the door frame. "I've got some correspondence to take care of, Mom."

  "This won't take long," she insisted.

  He shot a wary look at Caroline. Sarah nodded; sending Caroline on her way. Her head down, Caroline slipped past Jess aad along die hall, her footsteps light and quick. Only then did Jesse step into the kitchen. Sarah lifted an eyebrow. "You know, don't you, that she's doing everything in her power to make you notice her." It wasn't a question; he'd given himself away in just those few moments. He shrugged.

  "Maybe she has a little crush. You know how kids are/'

  "Yes," Sarah said, "I know how kids are, but Caroline hardly qualifies."'

  "Oh, come on, Mom. She's practically a teenager."

  "I suspect she was practically a teenager at ten. From what she's told me, I mink Caroline was one of those youngsters who had to grow up fast. Probably because her mother never has."

  Jesse was going through the mail again. "Umm-hmm, probably."

  Sarah sighed. "Jesse, haven't you noticed anything special about Caroline at all?"

  He nodded without looking up. "Sure."

  "And?" Sarah pressed.

  He lifted his head then. "She seems to be working out pretty well."

  Sarah rolled her eyes. "She's a godsend!"

  "Good."

  "Is that all, Jesse? Is mat really all you have to say about her?"

  He shrugged again and turned away, mumbling, "It's kind of nice to have a kid around the place."

  Sarah shook her head in disgust and let him go. A kid. He looked at Caroline and all he saw was a kid. She was darned sure mat Tiger and especially Handsome, for all the good it did him, saw the lush, lovely young woman mat was Caroline Moncton. Well, she shouldn't be surprised, she supposed. Like father, like son.

  The one time she'd mentioned to Haney the possibility of Caroline nursing a genuine interest in their son he'd grunted and muttered something about what fools kids could be. It was as if he'd forgotten that he had once quite willingly made a fool of himself over her, But he had loved her then. Before she had gotten too old and too ill to interest him anymore.

  Bitterly, Sarah turned back to the sink. The warm water often made her hands feel better, and the ache was suddenly so intense that she felt close to tears.

  Caroline looped Sarah's red wool scarf around her throat, tugged the edge up over her ears and stepped down onto the walk, the thermos bottle snug beneath one arm. Clumsy in a pair of Haney's old galoshes, she turned and firmly shoved the door closed. The house was so well insulated and the windows and doors so tightly fitted that it was a little bit like uncorking a bottle when one went i
n and out. To Caroline that was more proof of how high a priority Jesse placed on his home. Her own airy duplex apartment seemed insubstantial by comparison. God knew that every errant breeze found its way inside to chill her at night. She imagined that Jesse slept warm and peacefully in his neat, second-story room, and it only seemed right, since he had to spend much of every day working in the blustery, freezing weather.

  Fresh snowfall had been shoveled off the walk, and she shuffled easily down it in the big boots, wondering how Jesse stood the constant cold. She was a bit worried about him. He hadn't come in for his coffee break this morning in order to nurse a sick horse, and even though Tiger and Handsome had told her that the bam was relatively warm, she felt that he needed the fortification of a hot cup of coffee.

  It was just like Jesse to give up his coffee break in order to nurse a sick horse. He sure loved those horses, and in her short time at the ranch she had learned that Jesse's horses brought in as much and sometimes more income than the cattle. She'd felt a spurt of pride when she'd heard thai, but she wasn't surprised, not at all. Jesse Wagner was a man who could do things, important things. He could certainly take care of his home, his family, his horses, his vehicles, his ranch and everyone on it. There wasn't much, frankly, that he couldn't and didn't do, at least as far as she could tell, and it wasn't fair that he should have to miss his midmorning coffee. „

  She reached the end of the walk and stepped carefully onto the ground, keeping to the path that the men had forged through the freshly fallen snow. She had to raise her feet' her toes back with every step to keep the overlarge boots from slipping, but she did so with studied deliberation. Jesse wouldn't like it if she wasn't careful. He expected everyone to be as careful and responsible as he was. When she'd realized mat was why he'd scolded her for not having the proper outerwear to endure the weather, she'd gone right out and bought the finest insulated gloves that, she could afford. She intended to purchase a warm muffler next, and then a good hat. She hoped he would be pleased. He might not notice the other little things mat she had done to please him, but her lack of adequate outerwear had been.of some concern to him from the beginning. Surely he would notice.

  She was winded by the time she reached the open area around the big metal barn at the bottom of the hill, but at least the snow had been packed down by vehicle and animal traffic- so that the going was definitely easier. Every so often, a big, fat flake wafted past the end of her nose, reminding her that more were on their way. She hoped that Jesse's horse would be better before the next big storm broke. Her footsteps crunched across the packed, icy snow, and once or twice she broke through the crust and supped a bit, but all in all, the trip was an uneventful one.

  The bar was set on the big sliding door in the end of the barn, so she went to the small side door and tried the handle. The padlock hung loose, but the heavy metal door felt frozen in place. Gripping the thermos more tightly, she put her shoulder into it and forced it back a few inches, working her way through. This end of the barn was dark and cavernous and filled with vehicles and other heavy equipment, but a light shone about midway down the row of stalls below the loft to her left. She hurried that way, shivering in the heavy shadows, but as she drew closer to the light and farther beneath the loft, the air grew warmer and more fragrant Her footsteps slowed as she began to take notice of the many animals housed in two rows of stalls flanking a muddy cement center aisle strewn lightly with hay. A horse occasionally neighed or blustered. A cow mooed complainingly. Hooves clunked against stall walls. Teeth crunched and ground bits of feed. Eventually she heard a tow voice.

  "All right now, let's get this off and see how we're doing. Whoa now. Hold on. Hold on."

  She stopped and peered into the stall. The rump of a big, golden brown horse shifted to one side, allowing her a glimpse of Jesse, bending at the waist and lifting a front hoof. He was unwinding what appeared .to be a dark, heavy, bulky bandage.

  "Almost there. Almost. Ah." He straightened and set aside the fat bandage, draping it over the stall wall. It promptly slid down again, but he caught it before it bit the ground.

  "Want me to hold that?"

  He jerked around at the sound of Caroline^ voice, the horse awkwardly shifting. "What"re you doing here?"

  She set the thermos on a thick post. "Thought you could use some coffee."

  His gaze flickered over her and away. "New gloves?"

  She smiled brightly. "Yes. Do you like them?"

  He shrugged. "What matters is that they keep your hands warm."

  "They do."

  He made no answer to that Instead, he slid her a narrow look and said reprovingly, "Isn't that my mother's scarf?"

  Some of the pleasure of having him notice the gloves evaporated. Her smile faltered. "Yes, yes, it is. But I intend to buy my own very soon."

  "See that you do."

  She looked down at her feet, hoping he wouldn't ask about the faded galoshes, and said, "What's wrong with your horse?"

  "He has an infection in the fetlock," Jesse explained. "There doesn't seem to be any cut, though, so I'm hoping it's an abscess caused by a bruise. I'm trying to draw it to a head so I can lance it." He flopped the bandage over the wall again. It slid off again. He tossed it over his shoulder, but when he bent forward, it flopped on the ground. He made a disgusted sound, scooped it up and straightened once more.

  "Is there some reason I shouldn't hold that?" she asked lightly.

  Reluctance seemed to slow his movements as he turned toward her and extended the puffy strip of plastic and leather. "It's hot''

  She took it carefully into her hands, surprised at its weight "Oh, I see. It's some sort of chemical hot pack."

  Jesse turned away and bent to lift,the horse's hoof again. The horse snuffled and shifted aside. It seemed unwilling to place any weight on the leg Jesse was determinedly examining.

  "What if it isn't an abscess caused by a bruise?"

  He studied the fetlock, saying, "Then I'll have to call a vet and get a stronger antibiotic than anything I have on hand."

  "But you don't want to do that" she surmised correctly.

  He let down the hoof and straightened. "I don't like to use antibiotics unless I have to. Horses are just like humans. They develop resistances and reactions to medications. "He slapped the horse lightly on the rump. "We'll let it rest a few minutes, old son, then apply the heat again."

  He let himself out of the stall, sweeping the thermos into one hand. He draped an elbow over the closed gate and leaned against it, pushing back his hat. He seemed intent on avoiding her eyes. She gulped when his gaze dropped to her feet Something twitched in his cheek, and she heard the humor lacing his voice when he said, "Where on earth did you get those boots?"

  She curled her toes back, feeling unaccountably lightened. "They're an old pair of your father's."

  He chuckled as he twisted off the top of the thermos and then the stopper. "Somehow I can't see my father wearing yellow galoshes. You sure those are his?"

  "Your mother said they were."

  "I've never seen him in them."

  "She said she bought them for him years ago."

  "Ah. That explains it then. He's let her mink he was wearing them while they bounced around in the back of his old truck until they looked properly used. He's probably congratulating himself because he hasn't been found out. You won't tell her, will you?" He snapped her a look that was part humor, part warning.

  "No, of course not. That would be mean, when he's so obviously tried to spare her feelings."

  Apparently satisfied, Jesse poured steaming coffee into the cup top of the thermos and replaced the stopper in the bottle. Setting aside the bottle, he sipped the hot brew from the top. "This is good, but you didn't have to bring it down."

  "I don't mind," Caroline said.

  He sipped more coffee. The silence grew strained. He turned and propped his forearms on the edge of the gate, watching the horse. "Well, thanks for the coffee. You can get on back to the house now.
"

  She leaned against a post. "I'm in no hurry. I'd kind of like to rest a few minutes before I head back up the hill."

  He nodded and continued to watch the horse. She had the distinct feeling that he was avoiding eye contact. She tried to think of something to say, some topic of conversation so compelling that it would overcome any resistance on his part. Then suddenly she realized that this was die perfect opportunity to discuss something that had been worrying her. She carefully draped the hot pack over the top of the square post against which she leaned and anchored it with her hands, saying, "Actually, Jesse, I want to talk to you about something."

  "Oh?" He didn't turn to face her, didn't indicate any real interest in any way.

  Caroline gathered her thoughts before proceeding carefully. "I've had some time to get to know your mother. Sarah's a wonderful woman. She's made me feel so welcome and appreciated."