Page 2 of Jonathan

“When you have earned it.” She looked around, noticing that some of the patrons were throwing curious looks at them. “We are attracting quite the attention and as owner of this fine establishment, I am certain that’s the last thing you need.”

Finishing the drink, she rose and picked up her light apple green jacket and tote the size of a briefcase. Tucking in her multiple devices, she secured the straps over her left shoulder.

“We’re not finished.”

Kamilah smiled slightly. “I have little doubt of that. Take care, mother.” She left before her mother could respond and walked away, tamping down the temptation to run to her vehicle. Sending the besotted valet a smile as he handed her the keys, she tipped him generously and made her way out of the parking lot, a sigh of relief gushing out.

The traffic on main street was as usual heavy, but she did not mind – it allowed her to think and reflect on what she had to do. Pressing the button, she decided against turning on the air and just enjoying the cooling breeze on her skin.

It was decided. She had spoken to her grandfather at length, and he agreed that she should take a much-needed break. Her maternal grandfather was behind her one hundred percent and for that she was grateful.

“Your mother is not the easiest person to get along with sweetheart.” His voice was wry and indulgent. “She’s my daughter and I love her, but she can be difficult.”

That would be the understatement of the year, Kamilah decided grimly as she turned left. Yes, she needed this break, or she was going to go quietly out of her mind.

*****

He sat on the horse, profile straight and still. Even the powerful animal beneath him was silent and unmoving, not even a flicker of the black glossy tail, or a toss of the proud head. Man, and animal as one with the pale half-moon at the back of them.

Jonathan McCarthy, fifth generation rancher, heir to the vast McCarthy fortune sat there, on the slight rise that gave him the privilege of surveying the spread of land, the rolling hills, trees swaying in the early morning breeze.

A well-worn hat was clamped down on his ash blonde hair. Laser blue eyes scanned the horizon. It was the best part of the day as far as he was concerned.

His men were not yet stirring, and he was alone with his thoughts. The distinct sound of water from the lake a few feet away where the land dipped slightly, sounded like music- low and soft, mingling with the scamper of squirrels chasing each other up and down the trees.

Somewhere in the distance, a fox howled, causing his horse Ebony to shift slightly, powerful muscles tensing. Laying a hand on the animal’s flank was all it took to reassure it. He kept his hand there, rubbing the silk, until the horse quieted down.

Reaching into the saddle bag, he took out the thermos of coffee and poured some into the lid and took a fortified sip and then another. The breeze was stiff, brushing his face, poking through his battered jacket. It was just coming to the end of August, but around these parts, summers were short, winters long and sometimes brutal.

Finishing the coffee, he put away the thermos and nudged his horse towards the thick chain link fence where animals had dug through just a day ago. Pulling on the reins, he dismounted easily and not bothering to secure the reins, hunkered down to inspect the repairs.

His men were meticulous, but that did not stop him from checking though. He was in charge of the ranch, an enormous responsibility that had been thrown at him when his dad had ended up in a wheelchair five years ago and wasted away – drifting into death two years after.

Now it was up to him to carry on the legacy. His mother was still alive. Leonie McCarthy was in her sixties but still ran the ranch house as efficiently as she had done when she first came to live here. Jon relied on her to take care of the day-to-day running of the staff and taking care of the endless details that went with a place like this.

Tugging on the fence with a gloved hand, he satisfied himself that it was firm enough before leaving it alone. Rising, he scanned the area, sharp eyes searching for any signs of unwelcome visitors.

They would be coming around, he mused grimly. The freezing weather would force them to seek some sort of shelter and forage for food. Dusting his gloves off, he turned towards his horse.

Gathering the reins, he vaulted into the saddle with admirable ease. Tugging slightly on the reins, he nudged the horse forward towards the ranch house, where by now, things were stirring to life.

*****

“You are a welcome distraction.” Lionel James ushered his granddaughter inside the cool and tasteful living area where he had been scanning the financial pages and taking a break from his gardening.

“I was out there in the heat and started getting lightheaded. Sara made some fresh ginger snap cookies before she left to go to the market.” He added, referring to his live-in housekeeper. “I am surprised to see you; thought you would have been gone by now.”

Kamilah hugged him briefly and planted a kiss on the weathered cheek. Slipping a hand through his arm, she walked with him into the room.

“Looks like you were expecting company.” She murmured, staring at the spread.

“Sara always makes a fuss.’ He squeezed her hand slightly before letting go. Settling into his easy chair, he picked up the jug of lemonade and poured it into two glasses. “When you called and said you were dropping by, I delayed lunch.” He handed her the frosted glass. “Now darling, tell me what’s on that brilliant mind of yours.”

Settling back, she felt relaxed as always. She had lost her both her dad and paternal granddad several years ago and the man seated across from her had always been a shoulder to lean on and her greatest supporter.

“You know I am in the process of writing a book.”

He smiled at that. “And I can already see it on the New York bestseller’s list.”

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