Homecoming Ranch by Julia London Page A

wall behind him was a calendar with the picture of a man gleefully kissing a big fish, and the 18 th of the month had been circled with a fat red marker. Below the calendar was a montage of pictures of Jackson Crane. He was skiing, or wearing a big hat and riding a horse, or grinning at the camera from behind goggles on a snowmobile. But what Madeline found odd about the pictures was that Jackson was the only person in them.
    This man was an enigma to Madeline. He was a personable guy; he’d greeted her warmly, shaking her hand earnestly. “So glad you made it,” he said, as he moved some papers around on his desk, obviously seeking something. “I don’t have much time before my next appointment, but I wanted to get you the particulars of our meeting.”
    “I thought this
was
our meeting,” Madeline said as he thrust a file folder into her hands.
    “This?” he asked, his eyes widening slightly with surprise. “No, no, I asked you to come here so I could give you some basic information. We’ll be meeting this afternoon at the ranch. We’re on for three.” He suddenly smiled. “You’ll be meeting your sisters!”
    A shudder of trepidation ran through Madeline. Of course she knew she would be meeting her sisters, but with it suddenly so concrete, Madeline did not feel prepared. She needed more warning than this, she needed time to mentally gear up. She felt like something was missing, like a flowchart, dossiers, pictures,
something
. “Just like that?” she blurted. “I fly out here and meet them just like that?”
    Jackson chuckled until he realized she wasn’t kidding. “Sorry—did you have something else in mind?”
    No, Madeline didn’t have anything else in mind. She just needed time to prepare, she always needed time to prepare. Meeting new people was never easy for her, and for two new sisters, she needed to collect herself, to tamp down unnecessary feelings about how these “sisters” had had a father, and she hadn’t, that sort of thing. She assumed that they had been the recipients of the fatherly love that she’d been denied, that the reason she had never heard from him was because he’d been completely satisfied with his other two daughters.
    “In the file I gave you is a copy of your father’s last will and testament, as well as some information about the ranch,” he said, and began to recite some statistics that flew over Madeline’s normally tidy and organized head. “I’ve included a map.” He looked at her curiously when Madeline didn’t speak. “So we’ll see you there at three to go over the details.” He stood. “Okay?”
    No, it was not okay. It wasn’t remotely okay. Madeline really needed someone to hold her hand right now. But she stood reluctantly. “Yes,” she said, and tucked the file into her purse. “Thank you.”
    Jackson walked her to the door like he had some place to be, and as Madeline walked down the gravel path to the parking lot, she heard the door shut behind her. She had just reached the parking lot when an orange jeep barreled up, coming to an abrupt halt. She barely had time to register that she’d seen the vehicle before when the man who had changed her flat stepped out of the Bronco.
    Madeline tried to ignore the little thrill she felt sweep down her spine. She’d been standing on the road yesterday trying to convince herself that she could change a tire, to not panic, when he’d driven up in an old jeep-looking thing. A modern day knight in shining armor in his trusty orange steed. Not only was he almost unconscionably good-looking, he had changed that damn tire in about two seconds.
    But now she felt a shiver of trepidation. What was he doing
here?
    He was wearing a white shirt tucked into skin-tight jeans, and a dark blue hoodie and boots. He’d combed his dark hair back so that it brushed his collar. He was tall and muscular, more than what she remembered. He fixed his gray eyes on her; she saw a flicker of recognition, and her pulse