The Texas Rancher's Vow

The hardships of that time still haunted her. Jen was working on being okay with it, but she hadn’t quite gotten there yet.

Deciding if Matt was going to hear this, he was going to hear it from her, she moved a step closer and asked, “Do you know why?”

Matt continued watching her as if something didn’t quite add up. “The investigator didn’t get that far, but I can go back and see what else can be found out….”

Jen shook her head and lifted a staying palm. “No need for that,” she declared firmly, forcing herself to hold his steady gaze.

Might as well get this over with.

“I’ll just tell you.”

She swallowed as another wave of emotion swept through her. “My father drank.” Her throat closed in a way that made it difficult to get the words out. “A lot. Not all the time, but…whenever something set him off. Instead of dealing with his frustration and anger over the hand that fate had dealt him, he would self-medicate with booze.”

Compassion flashed across Matt’s face. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged off the sympathy. She didn’t want his pity. “I wouldn’t have survived my childhood had it not been for Alateen. The people there—the counselors, the sponsors, the other kids—helped me realize that my father’s problem with alcohol was not my fault.” Tears stung her eyes.

Matt clamped his hands on her shoulders, gave her a brief, comforting squeeze. “Of course it wasn’t,” he said softly, looking a little rough around the edges himself. “He was the adult. You were just a kid.”

A kid with a big heart and a sensitive nature…and a hopelessly idealistic outlook on life.

Jen had worked hard to erect a hard shell around her vulnerable inner self, to put all her pent-up emotion into her artistry, where it could do some good.

The trouble was, with just one steamy embrace, and an unexpectedly gentle word or two, Matt tempted her to undo all that.

She had no intention of letting the floodgates open. “Unfortunately, I didn’t learn my lessons well enough until I got a lot older.”

Matt locked eyes with her. “And this caused problems.”

“Oh, yes. Tons of them. In big and little ways.” Jen hitched in a restless breath and resisted the urge to pace. “Because for a while there, I still chased after lost causes. Thinking if I could just make someone else’s life better, it would make up for the fact that I never got through to my father. Never managed to get him to a single meeting.”

Matt’s expression softened. The empathy in his eyes gave her the courage to go on.

“So I got involved with someone else, someone with family problems of his own, hoping to help him in a way I hadn’t been able to help myself.”

“Only, that didn’t work, either.”

“No,” Jen said tautly. “It didn’t.”

“Which is why you got divorced.”

Jen nodded.

Pushing the turmoil away, Jen lifted her chin. “But don’t worry. I am not interested in sponsoring you.” Jen threw up her hands, her boundaries firmly in place once again. “Your issues are your own. And so,” Jen emphasized flatly, “are your father’s.”

Jen spun around and made a beeline for the door, which she flung open, gesturing for him to take his leave. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get ready for dinner.”

* * *

MATT HAD WEATHERED a lot since his mom died. Some of it was caused by his own grief and reaction to loss. The rest was due to his dad. So Matt didn’t feel guilty about trying to prevent more heartache for all of them.

This, he figured, was his duty as Emmett Briscoe’s son.

But he also knew enough to realize he was holding Jen Carson accountable for far more than she deserved. She hadn’t pursued his father, as the other women had.

Emmett had evidently done his research this time and sought Jen out for the clearly defined purpose of commemorating his life.

So maybe, Matt thought, if he let them all concentrate on the business at hand, there would be no more romantic disasters.

He sure didn’t need to be acting on impulse and kissing her. Either to make a point, or to ease a natural desire that had gone unfulfilled for way too long.

What he should do, he decided, was adopt a formal attitude. Be helpful, yet reserved. Become a sort of emotional Switzerland for Jen and his dad to come to if and when they needed him. Clearly, they were both grappling with some deep-seated issues, but he wasn’t exactly sure what was at the root of it all.

All Matt knew for certain was that Jen wanted the money and fame that came with this commission, badly enough to put up with the rest of the flack.

Wanted it enough to come into the formal dining room—even after he’d admitted to having her investigated—and sit down for a meal with him and his dad.

Luckily, from that moment on, Emmett dominated the conversation with talk about the Texas art scene. Jen was only too happy to oblige. When the meal concluded, they rose from the table, and Emmett, looking happier and more content than he had in weeks, led the way to the library.

More than a dozen storage boxes sat in front of the oversize mahogany desk.

“I’d like to have the sculptures commemorate my adult life on this ranch, and I’d like them all to honor my first wife, Margarite, as well. I’ll leave it to you to figure out how to do this, Jen, but the bronzes should include our courtship, marriage, and the birth and upbringing of our only child.”

“Sounds good.”

“I don’t want to look old or infirm in any of the sculptures,” Emmett further stipulated. “And I don’t want Margarite to ever look ill, or be confined to a wheelchair or a hospital bed in any of the bronzes. She would not have wanted to be remembered that way.”

That was true, Matt acknowledged.

“Not a problem,” Jen declared. “I’ll make sure she appears vibrant and healthy in all the sculptures.”

Matt wanted to concentrate on the positive, too.

“Too many of my fellow ranchers and friends are becoming ill or dying,” Emmett continued, still on the same depressing tact. “I am not interested in memorializing that.”

Seeing the conversation about to continue down a path it shouldn’t, Matt interjected firmly, “Dad, you’re fine.”

Matt realized, of course, that Emmett was getting older. That sometimes his dad felt a little sluggish and occasionally suffered from tired, aching muscles. But these things happened to everyone when they reached their sixties. Bodies began to age and wear out. It was just something everyone dealt with at that point in their life. It didn’t mean they were sick.

If his dad were really ailing, he would go see his doctor. And he hadn’t. So…

Emmett harrumphed. “Life can change in an instant, Matt. Not always in ways we want. Your mother proved that.”

There it went, Matt thought in frustration, the maudlin attitude that inevitably led to chaos.

He turned to Jen. “My mother died ten years ago of multiple sclerosis. She’d been ill for a long time.” She’d had a difficult, depressing decline.

Emmett grimaced. “It was hard on Matt. He was just a kid when Margarite became sick.”