Make-Believe Mum

Jon nursed the drink until he felt the soothing heat spread through his muscles and calm his overactive brain. He closed the door to his office and sat behind the massive oak desk. Beyond the open drapes, the black night spread into infinity.

Ten o’clock. Nine in San Francisco. He couldn’t put off the call. In another half hour Hal would be in bed. Slowly he picked up the phone, punching in the numbers with agonizing deliberateness. He hated this phone number. Hated it.

“Hello.”

He hated that voice more. Jon flinched at the sound. He gripped the receiver until his hand hurt. Fighting the urge to hang up, Jon forced himself to speak.

“Hal.”

There was a long silence on the other end, then Hal said, “What do you want?”

“Call off this social worker.”

Jon waited, listening to Hal’s accelerated breathing.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, hell, you do. You filed that complaint. Don’t bother denying it.”

Hal grunted, sounding pleased with himself. Funny, Jon had never really hated Hal until after Alison died, when he attempted to take custody of the kids. Before that he’d tried to tolerate the man in spite of his treatment of Alison—for her sake.

“Do you realize what you’re doing to my children? That woman came here and terrified them. Is that what you want?”

“I want the children in a good home. You can’t take care of them. You don’t even have someone to watch them while you work. No food for them to eat. And you claim to be a good father?”

“What are you doing, spying on us? A private investigator?”

Hal laughed. “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you? I have my ways. You should know that by now.”

“Call them off, Hal. Leave my family alone.”

“Not until I’m satisfied the children are being cared for.”

“Then let me satisfy you. We do have food in the house. Did yesterday, too. A freezer full of it. These kids have never gone hungry a day in their lives. As for a housekeeper, that’s a luxury I indulge to keep you happy. Ranch children learn young how to take care of themselves. But I’m going to have someone here so you don’t have any excuse to say they’re neglected again. I still can’t believe you reported me to Child Protection Services,” Jon said, amazed that Hal would have stooped so low.

“I didn’t have any other way of checking on them since you cut us out of their lives. You forced me to take drastic action.”

“Come off it, Hal. What did you do when I let them visit you after Alison died? Took out a restraining order against me, then had the gall to challenge me in court for custody. Why would I trust you to even talk to them, the way you bribe them? You tried to steal them from me once, but it won’t happen again.”

“You didn’t have any qualms about stealing my child from me.”

Jon closed his eyes and took a deep breath, frustrated at the old man’s stubborn refusal to admit the truth after all these years. “Alison was a woman, not a child. Perfectly capable of making her own decisions.”

“You lured her out there to that hinterland and then you killed her.”

The venom in Hal’s words was palpable, but the truth in them hurt Jon more.

Hal obviously understood Jon’s prolonged silence. “Yes, you know you’re to blame, don’t you? No wonder Marjorie and I are worried about the safety of our grandchildren after what happened to their mother. We want them off that ranch and in a civilized environment.”

Jon’s body went rigid. “My children are where they belong. Don’t pull this stunt with CPS again, Hal. It’s not a game and you don’t have any idea what that social worker might decide to do with the kids.”

“No, I’m not playing around. I’m dead serious. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure my grandchildren are safe. Even if it means proving you an unfit father so we can get custody.”

Jon slammed the receiver down. He’d planned to offer Hal some compromise. Laying his head against the back of the chair, he stared at the ceiling. How had life ever come to this? What the hell was Alison thinking, leaving him this way? Jon blinked back tears.

He had to come up with some way to stop Hal. The idea of calling Kaycee crossed his mind, but he decided against it. No need pulling her any farther into this. He threw back the rest of his drink and went out to make night rounds.

KAYCEE SAT DAYDREAMING AT THE desk in her office, the only room with lights on in the building. Her door was propped open, as was the door across the hall leading into the waiting area. She liked the arrangement—her living quarters were attached to the back of the veterinary clinic with access from the interior of the office complex, as well as from the outside. Several of the businesses along this strip of Little Lobo were built that old-fashioned way. Whoever popularized the idea of living in the suburbs and commuting had to be nuts.

She forced herself to concentrate on the form on her desk. She’d been trying to fill out the report on her visit to the Rider ranch for the past half hour. She couldn’t get beyond Jon’s name without becoming distracted. Hopefully he could call off his in-laws and they could break off their so-called engagement.

Like you really want to.

“Sure I do,” Kaycee muttered.

In truth, maybe not yet. She’d enjoyed spending the morning with Jon and the kids. Even church had been an adventure, keeping the restless little ones from disturbing the sermon. Rachel and Sam did an exemplary job of mothering them. However, with the extra hour of church, they couldn’t repress some squirming. Michele had then wanted to stay the rest of the afternoon at the clinic, but Jon wouldn’t let her. So Kaycee had promised she could come back to visit soon, and invited the other girls, too.

She blew out a frustrated breath when she looked at the paper under her hand. Name: Jon Rider. As if on command, his face materialized, his troubled smile touching her heart.

Kaycee forced her pen to the next blank. Phone number: she copied the number from her notepad then picked up the phone almost without thinking. Just a short call to check on her new surrogate family. Jon wouldn’t be in bed this early. But a tap at the glass of the outer door interrupted her.

Sarah James peered through, waving exuberantly, her curly hair bouncing like shiny red springs. Sarah owned the café and coffee shop next door, aptly named the Little Lobo Eatery and Daily Grind, and was trying to restore the huge rambling house behind it to open as a bed-and-breakfast. She was always in the kitchen by 4:00 a.m. to start the morning’s fresh-baked pastries and biscuits and worked in her spare time on the renovation. Always on the lookout for extra money for her pet project, Sarah had offered to take the clinic’s phone calls and do the day-to-day filing until Kaycee established her practice.

Sarah let herself in with her key. Kaycee had never had time for a close girlfriend before, but Sarah was so friendly and happy to have a neighbor other than Doc Adams, that Kaycee had already grown fond of her.

“Saw your light on,” Sarah said. “Do you need help?”

“No, just catching up on paperwork. Come on back.”

“Interesting day today, huh?” Sarah wiggled her eyebrows.

“Only if you enjoy driving forty miles to find out the rancher’s already taken care of the problem and didn’t bother to call back. Mr. Caldwell didn’t call again, did he?”

“Nope. Those were the only calls after you left.” Sarah pointed to the yellow slips on Kaycee’s desk, then picked up the paperwork in the outbox and began to place the reports into their folders in the filing cabinet. “That’s not exactly what I was talking about, and you know it.”

Kaycee gave a little shrug. “What?”

“This morning?” Sarah motioned with her hand. “Come on. Come clean. I didn’t miss Jon Rider’s SUV at your place this morning. Neither did the rest of Little Lobo, I’d wager. So that’s why you wanted to borrow a high chair.”

The warmth crept up Kaycee’s neck. No way this fake engagement would stay secret. “He brought the kids into town for Sunday school. How’s the painting coming in the house?”

“Don’t change the subject—but not so well. And Jon Rider just happened to stop by your vet clinic on a Sunday with his whole brood?”

“I fixed breakfast for them.”

Sarah’s face lit up. “Wait a minute! Have I missed something? Didn’t I just see you the day before yesterday? You didn’t let on you’d ever met Jon. When did you start cooking for his family?”

Kaycee wouldn’t be able to put Sarah off for long. If she didn’t fill her in, Sarah would pick at her mercilessly. One good thing, Sarah was no gossip. Kaycee would never tell Jon’s business, but whatever she did say wouldn’t be repeated. If all of Little Lobo was watching, she might do well to have Sarah as an ally to waylay rumors. So she briefly touched on her visit to the ranch and the subsequent invitation to breakfast. She skipped the parts about the social worker’s visit and the fake engagement.

“And then there was church…sitting with his kids,” Sarah prodded.

“Boy, you were everywhere today, weren’t you?”

“You know, Jon would be hot property if he’d lighten up.”

“Really?” Although hearsay wasn’t necessary. Kaycee had been close enough to feel that heat firsthand.

“He’s got a big ranch, made some good money from bull riding when he was young so he’s better off than a lot of the ranchers around here. And he’s a genuinely nice guy. Yep, even with all those kids, he wouldn’t have trouble finding another wife. But he doesn’t want one.” Sarah leaned on the filing cabinet, staring outside. “All he wants is to have Alison back.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Small town. There are no secrets around here.”

That was exactly what Kaycee feared. And how long before her own private life was spread out for the town’s scrutiny?

“What happened to his wife?”

“A tragic accident. The way I heard it, the girls missed the school bus that morning. Jon and Alison took the girls to school and were on their way to Bozeman to shop. An elk ran into the road, smashed through the windshield on Alison’s side. She died in Jon’s arms.”

“Oh, no,” Kaycee whispered, recalling Jon’s determination to save the newborn calf yesterday. An unbidden image formed of him desperately trying to save his dying wife. “How horrible.”

“Thank goodness they’d already dropped off the kids.”

“Was Jon hurt?”

“Nothing major. They say he blames himself.”

“Still wounded then.” Kaycee recalled the sadness in Jon’s ice-blue eyes.

“Well, there you go. You’re a doctor—you can heal him.”

Kaycee laughed and shook her head. “I’m a vet, Sarah, not a physician.”

“Well, looks like you’re doing pretty well after just one visit. Maybe the way to a rancher’s heart is through a cow C-section.”

“Oh, stop it, Sarah. There’s nothing going on.”

“Knowing Jon, I don’t doubt that. Still, he did bring his brood over for breakfast. That’s got to mean something.”

“Means they were hungry. Any luck on getting a restorer for the house?”

“No,” Sarah said, the frustration evident in her voice as she resumed filing. “Nobody wants to touch it. I’ve put ads in papers as far away as Denver, but no bites. But, thanks for this job. The extra money means I can move faster.”

“Then it works for both of us. Full-time help’s out of the question until I get more business. And don’t worry about the restoration. Somebody will come along. Just the right person at the right time. You’ll see. What all did you get done tonight?”

As she finished her work, Sarah rattled on about her favorite subject. By the time Sarah left, Kaycee decided it was too late to call Jon. She went to bed, but lay awake a long time thinking about his predicament. She fell asleep wondering what more she could do to help.

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