Page 32 of Second Chance Saloon

Kit visibly swallowed, turning to Dustin.

“He’s non-speaking.” A protective look flickered in Dustin’s eyes as they met Mitch’s. “We’re all takin’ beginner sign language courses online. Ali’s better than anyone else at it.”

Kit’s face lit up at the mention of Ali’s name.

Jackie shifted her weight onto her right foot, leaning against his side. “Mimi met Kit at a rodeo in Mesquite earlier this year. She saw how he managed to calm down a bronco everyone calls Red-Eyed Fury after the event. And the rest is history.”

Kit bowed his head a touch.

Mitch’s heart vaulted. Respect chased away the earlier fear he’d harbored of being ridiculed by them. He regarded Dustin’s lined face from a new perspective now. Rather than rude, his distrust toward him struck Mitch as protective. Maybe Dustin wasn’t Jackie’s family by blood, but it was clear from how they all interacted that there was a much stronger bond between them. With Jackie’s parents traveling so much, and her grandmother raising her, was it surprising that people working at Brooke’s Plains ranch took her under their wing?

Bands of wistful sadness tightened around his chest. He wished he had people who cared this much about him.

Jackie cleared her throat. “Anyway, you’ll be seeing Mitch around here, so I thought it’d be good to get introductions out of the way.” She squeezed his hand again, tugging it forward. “We’d better go. Mimi’s making chicken stew for dinner.”

Dustin touched the brim of his hat, tipping it toward Jackie. “Go, angel. There’s nothing like Brenda’s stew.” He turned to Mitch. “If you treat her right, we’ll have no quarrel.”

Fingers threaded with Jackie’s, Mitch let her lead him away from the group toward the house.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Jackie

Have dinner with me.

His words had crawled in-between the broken corners of her heart, spurring it into rapid-fire heartbeats since yesterday morning. Today, after two hours of failing to concentrate on spreadsheets detailing the hotel’s expenses, as her gaze kept drifting to the clock, Jackie slammed her laptop shut and decided to head out for a horse ride.

She’d barely pulled up into a small gravel driveway and closed her Jeep’s door, when a familiar booming voice greeted her.

“Jackie! So good to see you again,” Rea’s mother exclaimed, bustling out from the front door onto the green-painted porch. Her flowery skirt brushed the wood, the jingle of her bracelets accenting her footsteps. She ambled down the stairs, her hair fashioned into a voluminous bun bouncing with each step she took.

Jackie beamed at her. “How are you doing, Estrella?”

“Good, good. Keeping busy.” Estrella wiped her hands on a yellow apron tied around her waist. They left distinct flour patches on the material. “Baking some conchas. Should I pack you some?”

Her mouth watered. “What sort of question is that? You know I’d eat your food every day if I could.”

Estrella’s chest rumbled with a low laugh. Her cheeks flamed. “Chula, you’re too kind. I’ll box some for you.” Then her gaze moved down Jackie’s riding clothes. “But you’re here for Bella, not me. She’ll be glad to see you.”

“Was she out this morning? If someone has already ridden her, I don’t need to.”

“Nonsense. Bruno’s been keeping her off the excursions lately.” Estrella’s gaze flicked to Jackie’s face, the unspoken “in case you want to take her out” hanging between them.

Jackie sighed. Bruno was Rea’s father. He was the most patient man she’d ever met and, after her own father, the kindest. “You know you don’t have to do that.”

They’d been through this conversation many times. After Rea had first mentioned that her parents ran horseback-riding excursions from their farm a fifteen-minute drive from Mexican Jewel, Jackie had visited them the next day. She’d longed to be on a horse again, after months in Paris. There was much to be said about the hustle and bustle of a major European capital, but she yearned for fresh air and a saddle between her legs.

At first, neither of Rea’s parents knew how to act around Jackie. In their eyes, she was Rea’s boss, which was true, even though Jackie didn’t like to see it that way.

Her face tightened when she recalled Estrella’s apologies over their “humble home”. To Jackie, the house was gorgeous. Airy, spacious and colorful; filled with well-loved furniture and works of art from the days when Bruno painted oil on canvas, before Parkinson’s disease pushed him to hang his brush.

Jackie loved coming over here and didn’t need much of an excuse to visit. Riding Bella was the highlight, sure, but so was sharing a cup of Agua de Jamaica with Estrella or listening to Bruno’s tales of his art exhibitions all over the world.

In a way, Estrella reminded her of Mimi, and Bruno’s stories could rival Dustin’s.

Gods, how she missed them. The last time she’d seen them was April last year, when she’d gone to Brooke’s Plains. Nowadays, being at the ranch robbed her of breath. There were too many memories she shared with Mitch lurking around every corner. Three summers he’d spent working and living there, as well as all the weekends they visited and snuck out of their bedrooms … Mimi had never relented on putting them in rooms as far away from each other as physically possible.

Estrella watched her with a mix of sadness and worry, like she could peek into her soul and see her aching spirit. “It’s not a problem, chula. No bother at all.”