Page 31 of Kayla's Cowboy
“All right,” Jackson said wearily. “I won’t mind if he wants to spend time doing other things. But you need to start encouraging him in my direction, or this will never work.”
The sympathy instantly vanished from her expression. “You seem to assume I’ve been pushing the two of you apart. While it’s a temptation, I happen to think it’s best for Alex to face this, instead of backing off.”
“Fine,” Jackson muttered.
“Why do you seem to assume I’m working against you?”
Jackson’s jaw set. “Sorry, that’s what Marcy does.”
“Well, I’m not Marcy.” Kayla put her cup aside. “If you were so relieved when your marriage ended, how did you become one of those bitter divorced men they talk about in advice columns?”
“I’m not bitter, and now you’re butting into my private business.”
“What’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander, as my grandmother would say. I’ve told you, I don’t want Alex picking up your attitudes. It’s hard enough teaching kids to be wary in a dangerous world and still have a basic faith in people. He doesn’t need to learn distrust vicariously.”
His head pounding, Jackson tried to think rationally. There was a kernel of truth in what Kayla was saying, but it wasn’t just Marcy who’d made him so cautious about the opposite sex. The seemingly nice woman he’d dated after his divorce had just been using him. And then there were others over the years, including a buddy’s wife who had hit on him shortly before Marcy left for New York. And the wife of another friend who’d actually suggested talking her husband into a threesome. Two years later she’d quietly cleaned out their joint bank accounts and disappeared.
But he didn’t plan on telling Alex about such things.
“I’ll watch what I say around him,” he said finally. “What’s his next question?”
Kayla regarded him for a long minute before looking back at her notebook. At least two pages were covered with writing and Jackson resigned himself to the inevitable.
They were going to be there awhile.
CHAPTER SIX
KAYLA WAS PRIVATELY amused when Jackson walked her to the car. Even in high school he’d held doors and pulled out chairs for girls, all the while with condoms in his wallet and a seductive glint in his eyes.
“Nice ride,” he said, looking at her silver SUV. “Rental?”
“It’s mine.”
“I would have pegged you for something more unconventional. Did your ex-husband pick it out?”
“Nope. I bought it last November. I like Volvos because of their safety record. When you work on insurance billings, you hear about too many accidents.”
“Didn’t you do insurance billing at Dr. Wilson’s office for your after-school job?”
“That’s right.” She grinned unexpectedly. “At the time I was bored out of my skull, but I’m grateful. He paid well and it gave me the skills to get my business started.”
Jackson seemed surprised by something, but she didn’t have time to find out what it might be. It was late and she wanted to get back to help Grams with dinner.
“Oh, wait,” he said as she opened the Volvo door. “Can you send me some pictures of Alex?”
“Sure.” Kayla groped in her purse and pulled out her phone. “Here, type in your email address.” When he’d entered it, she sent him three of her favorite photos. “I have our family albums on my laptop, so I’ll pick out a selection of Alex when he was younger, too.”
“That’s great. Let him know we can work everything out.”
Kayla didn’t crack a smile until after she’d climbed into the Volvo and was driving away. At least for the moment, Jackson had improved his tactics. It was a smart move, since his bullheaded approach had failed.
Yet the meeting with Jackson had underscored another worrisome concern for her—what sort of expectations did he have for a son? His dismay over her grandparents bringing a recreational vehicle had raised an instant image: rugged frontiersman who conquers the wild with nothing more than a knife and flint—flint optional.
Alex, on the other hand, wasn’t outdoorsy.
He enjoyed camping, but in limited doses with amenities to make it comfortable. For Alex, baseball was a spectator sport with snacks. He was quiet, reflective, interested in art and science and computers, and wanted to learn everything. It was possible he’d have turned out differently growing up on a Montana ranch, but maybe not.
Schuyler’s shady, tree-lined streets should have been soothing, yet Kayla was still troubled when she arrived at her grandparents’ home. Uncle Pete and Granddad were in the backyard, scrubbing the barbecue grill. She waved before stepping into the kitchen and giving Grams a determined smile.