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Then they’d done some local shopping, including another stop at the western wear shop for Jeremy. The boy had fallen in love with one of the carved leather belts on display, with intricate, detailed designs done by a local resident. Rylan Rafferty, the sign said. Jeremy had stopped to look, found one with a pinto horse on it that happened to be small enough for him, and that was enough.
“Rylan is just starting to experiment with colors on the belts, especially the kid-sized ones,” the clerk, Nic’s friend Hannah,had explained to the boy, giving him all the attention she would an adult, which Jackson liked. He’d smiled at her in thanks, which had apparently encouraged her.
“Still can’t sell you a hat?” Hannah had asked, clearly teasing.
“Haven’t earned it,” he’d answered, and her surprised look changed to one of approval so quickly he knew he’d said the right thing. It registered with Nic as well, whose smile warmed him.
Nic, who had set aside her misgivings and brought them here, to this house, a perfect place with just enough privacy and yet with the new life Jeremy had plunged into enthusiastically close at hand.
Now he took a long sip of coffee as he looked out over the hills. He felt more relaxed, freer, than he had in a very long time. This was one of the best decisions he’d ever made. Maybe, after marrying Leah, the best.
He froze, holding the mug, staring out at the horizon, but not really seeing it. Because for the first time in three years, thinking of Leah hadn’t brought that horrible jab of piercing, incapacitating pain. Oh, the ache was still there, the sadness, the melancholy, but it wasn’t throttling. It didn’t make his whole chest tighten until it was hard to breathe.
He’d watched Jeremy head out to go to his session with Mrs. Baylor this morning, with more eagerness than the boy had ever shown going to school. And after he reminded himself repeatedly they not only weren’t in the city anymore, they were on completely private property, he’d let the boy go on his own, figuring the half-mile trek would eat up some seven-year-old energy and have him calmer by the time Mrs. Baylor settled in with him.
He had no doubt that going ahead with her had been the right decision too. Never had Jeremy come home from school so excited about what he’d learned that day. Not like he did now,almost every day eager to talk about it. And of course, his riding lesson on Pie.
For a while after Jeremy had gone, he’d had the distraction of watching part of the Angus herd being moved from one area to another, down at the bottom of the hill, but that hadn’t lasted. And then he was back to thinking, facing the fact that he himself was about to go crazy.
Apparently, after three weeks, it was beginning to sink in back in L.A. that he’d really walked away. His phone was piling up messages from his agent, from Miles, from Swiff, the angry exec, and a dozen others, including a studio head who rarely bothered to reach out. The only calls he took were from Tucker, who kept him apprised.
“They’re going nuts, buddy. Nobody really believed you meant it until the last few days. They thought they’d just give you the break and work around it until you came to your senses.”
“I have come to my senses. Everything you ever told me about Texas was true. How’d you ever bring yourself to leave?”
Tucker had laughed. “The lure of Hollywood, and bigger money than a broken-down rodeo cowboy could make there.”
“I’d think you could have done something big here, based on the name you built before you and that bull collided.”
“Maybe. But I got tired of people looking at me with that pitying expression on their face. Besides, it worked out well for a friend of mine, who turned coming to Hollywood into gold for both of us.”
“A friend who then abandoned it all,” Jackson reminded him.
“For good reason,” Tucker said, sticking by him as he always did. “Oh, by the way, the producers made a decision. They’ve put Austin on a plane that disappeared. Haven’t shot the eps yet, but that’s the plan right now. They’re leaving the door open for you.”
“If they saw Jeremy now, already so much better, they’d know I’m not going to be walking back through that door.”
“I’m not sure they’d get it. Can’t think of a one of them who would do the same, except maybe Miles, if he had a kid in trouble.”
He’d come out here to sit and look out over the hills after that call too. Now he realized he’d already made it a habit when he needed to think. And at the moment all he could seem to think is that he had too much time to think. He was used to long days of getting ready to shoot scenes, shooting them, then reshooting them, reshooting them again, lather, rinse, repeat. While it wasn’t all physical work, it was tiring, and without it, he was finding himself a lot more restless. Especially at night, when he had too much of that time to think and little to distract him.
He heard a sound off to his right, a rustle of branches—mostly bare this time of year—and then a tiny, but unmistakable, bawling sound. He set down the mug and got up, leaning over the railing and looking in that direction. It took him only a moment to find the source, a small black calf entangled in a fallen branch down the hill a few yards.
The little animal didn’t seem frightened of him when he got there, so he must be used to human handling. At least that’s what Jackson told himself as he worked to get the calf free. He’d probably wandered off from the cattle he’d seen being moved earlier, although how the little guy had ended up here, he had no idea. But he was obviously one of Mr. Baylor’s prized Angus.
Once he’d gotten the calf clear, he pondered just letting him go and hoping he found his way back to mom—who had to be going crazy—but then he noticed he had blood on his hand. A quick check showed a long scrape on the calf’s far side, likely by the broken part of the branch that had entrapped him.
“Okay, little buddy, I think you need some personal attention.”
Little, he discovered when he picked up the baby animal, was a relative term. He was small for a cow, but he still weighed agood one-twenty at least. Enough that Jackson didn’t want to lug him all the way down to the ranch house. So instead he headed for the carport. He braced himself on the side of the car as he opened the hatch, then grabbed the packing blanket that was still there from the move of the things they’d had shipped. He spread it out, then put the injured calf down. He seemed to settle, although Jackson wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up with a bit of a mess to clean up before this was over.
He had to run inside to grab the keys, but when he got back outside and looked, the calf was still lying on his side, albeit looking around curiously. He took a moment to pat the little guy before he got in and started the motor. He figured his best bet was to just go and worry about any escape attempt or damage done after the fact.
He went as fast as he thought he safely could, and since it was barely over a half mile, it only took a couple of minutes to get down to the main barn where, thankfully, he saw Mr. Baylor. The man waved, then turned as if to keep going into the barn, but stopped when Jackson pulled up close to the barn and parked.
Moments later he’d explained and they had the calf, who was up on his hooves now, out of the vehicle. And the mess he’d been afraid of thankfully didn’t happen until he was out and on the ground.
Mr. Baylor looked at the wound with the calm of long experience. “We’ll get this cleaned up and keep them in a stall for a day or two, and he’ll be fine.”
