“In you go,” she ordered and the big dog daintily stepped through the water and out the other side. Maura dried his paws, tossed the towel over the porch railing, then opened the door, letting them both into the warmth of the kitchen.
“Thinks I’ll just sit with my mouth shut, does he? Accept what he says as a declaration from the mount and go on with my life?”
She took the teakettle to the sink, filled it with water and set it on to boil. As the flames licked at the base of the copper pot, she tapped her fingers impatiently against the stove top. “And why shouldn’t he think that, Maura, you great idiot? Didn’t you walk away, as well? Didn’t you let him slip through your fingers without ever once telling him that you love him?”
Lowering to admit as it was, Maura had to concede that she’d allowed her own pain and disappointment to color her responses to Jefferson on that last night. If she hadn’t been so stunned by his announcing that as he’d loved once he couldn’t love again, she might have stood her ground. She might have told him exactly what she thought of a man too afraid to love. She might have—
“And this is doing no good at all. Not for either of us. What good is it to shout the ceiling down when he’s not here to listen?”
He had to listen, she thought. She had to make him listen. Her thoughts slammed to a stop and she whirled around, staring at the yellow phone on the counter.
Before she could think better of it, she walked directly to the drawer by the telephone and pulled out the four sheets of paper Jefferson had left with her.
Phone numbers and addresses of everyone he could think of, all neatly typed and printed out. He was nothing if not efficient, her Jefferson—and he was her Jefferson—the stubborn mule of a man.
She looked at the list. His cell-phone number, numbers for his brothers, his cousins, his office, his home, his vacation home in the mountains and even for the places he kept in London and Paris. He’d said that last morning that he didn’t want her to have trouble contacting him again.
The man was a font of information when he wanted to be, she mused, running the tip of one finger down the list.
She wouldn’t be calling Jefferson directly though, she told herself. No. What she had to say to him could only be said in person so that she could knock some sense into his head if need be. So that left her with at least three choices. She picked the one whose name seemed the most familiar and dialed his number.
When a gruff voice answered, she said, “Hello. Is this Justice King, brother to Jefferson?”
A long pause, then, “It is. I’m guessing from your accent that you must be Maura.”
“I am,” she said, grateful to know that at least the dunderheaded man she loved had spoken of her to his brothers. “I’ve something to say to that great lout of a man, personally. I was wondering if you could help me.”
There was a low, deep chuckle that rumbled through the phone line and then Justice answered, “You planning a trip to L.A.?”
“I am, yes,” she said, plans forming in her mind even as she spoke. “As soon as I can get a plane ticket.”
“No need for that,” Justice told her. “When can you be ready to leave?”
Steam shot from the spout of the teakettle and Maura walked to turn off the stove. While she did, she decided on whom she would ask to take care of the farm for a few days and when she had it set in her mind, she said, “I can have things arranged by tomorrow night.”
“Then pack a bag, Maura,” Justice said. “I’ll have a King jet waiting at the airport for you. All you’ll need is a passport.”
She gasped, surprised at the generosity of the offer. “’Tisn’t necessary,” she told him, “I was only calling you to see if you could arrange to have Jefferson somewhere we can talk.”
Justice laughed and she enjoyed the sound, feeling as though she had an ally in this oh-so-personal battle.
“Maura, trust me. Sending the jet is a selfish move. My brother’s been in a black mood since he got back from Ireland. My wife tells me there’s a reason for it and she thinks it’s you.”
She grinned now, knowing that Jefferson was as miserable as her. “Isn’t that a lovely thing to say,” she murmured.
Justice laughed again. “Oh yeah, you and my Maggie are going to be great friends. I can see it already.” There was a pause and then he said, “So, once we get you here, what’s your plan?”
Maura leaned back against the counter and told Jefferson’s brother exactly what she had in mind. Between the two of them, they refined their strategies. By the time she hung up, Maura felt her self-assurance slide back into place, for the first time in days.
“Jefferson King, you’ve no idea what’s in store for you.”
Chapter Eleven
“What was so damned important I had to come all the way out to the ranch?” Jefferson slammed his car door and faced down his brother.
“Just a few things we need to discuss,” Justice told him. “But first, I’ve got to get that yearling back in his stall.”
He followed Justice out to the paddock and watched as his brother hopped the rail fence and loped across the dirt enclosure without so much as a limp. Months after the accident that had brought Justice and Maggie back together again, his brother’s leg was as good as new.
“Hey, you’re here!”
Jefferson turned around to spot his youngest brother, Jesse, headed toward him. A former professional surfer, Jesse was a successful businessman now, running King Beach, surf and sportswear. And by rights, he should have been in Morgan Beach. So what was he doing at the ranch? Suspicion flitted through Jefferson’s mind, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what the trouble might be, so he let it go. For now.
“What are you doing here?” Jefferson asked, shifting a glance to Justice, who was taking a young horse by the bridle and leading him off to the barn.
“Bella wanted to visit with Maggie, so I tagged along. What are you doing here?” Jesse grinned as he said it. “Who’s making movies if you’re out wandering the ranch?”
“I’m not wandering. Justice said he needed to talk to me about something. And where are Maggie and Bella?”
Jesse shrugged. “Shopping?”
Wariness had him turning for the barn. Something was definitely up. The wives were gone. Both of his brothers here. Grinding his back teeth together, Jefferson headed for the barn. Stepping into the shadowy interior, with Jesse right on his heels, Jefferson called out, “Justice, are you going to tell me what you wanted to see me about?”