Page 16 of One Scorching Summer

The men cannonballed into the deep end. Big waves crashed against Jorja and Nettie, scraping them against the pool's side and changing what had peaceful, with plenty of room to move about, into a rollicking and congested mega-tub.

“My knee.” Jorja winced. “I think my knee is bleeding again. Shit.”

A number of them pulled themselves from the pool to cannonball again or use the diving board. The water became rougher.

Someone yelled. “Dinner.” The pool emptied as quickly as it had filled.

“Boys will be boys." Nettie muttered, rolling her eyes. “Let’s take care of your knee and then get something to eat. The enjoyable pool time is gone for now.”

Jorja searched the pool and surrounding areas. Apparently Rake was gone, too.

CHAPTER FOUR

Monday ...

The alarm blared, rudely interrupting his deep slumber. Rake hit the button with force. Sleep had eluded him most of the night during which he tossed and turned and glared at the glowing dial, the last time at three-twelve. His mind was tumultuous, overrun with disquieting visions the stunningly beautiful Jorja Ogden, marriage, and a passel of children. What the ever-lovin' fuck?

She was arriving at seven. The only other appointment on his calendar today was the monthly meeting with Ames who managed the ranch; it began with lunch and would run well into the afternoon.

He threw back the covers, slipped on gym shorts to cover his nakedness, and headed to the kitchen where he preheated the oven and threw together a coffee cake. After it putting it into the oven, he started the coffee and set the timer. A search in the fridge confirmed his worst fears. There was no bacon.Dammit.Skye was still in bed, having returned close to midnight. He grumped all the way back to his room and called his friend Cody, sure she was up. It went to voicemail.

“Mornin', Cody. Seems we have no bacon. Can you bring some if you have it? If not, no worries. Door's open.”He disconnected the call and unlocked the front door. Cody would probably arrive while he was showering and get the eggs started. She knew her way around his kitchen.

He stripped off the shorts and stepped under the spray. A sexual craving surged through him as thoughts returned to Jorja. Yes, he wanted her, plain and simple.That little black bikini yesterday …Damn. His tongue had about hung from his mouth and dislodged when she chucked the long skirt, beamed a daring smile at him, and glided toward the pool, gracefully entering and disappearing underwater.

Jorja had some snap in her garters, showing up as she did at the ranch Friday. Even though he had been vexed, there was a part of him that appreciated how she had gotten his tail all up. She was a real looker. Those luminous hazel eyes gave away just as much as her expressions. Every thought. Every reaction. Did she know that? Hadn't anyone told her she was as easy to read as a map? And that body … All lean strength. Willowy, with nice curves. Damn. During the little he had spent with her, he recognized that she was intuitive, intelligent, and honest. The kiss they had shared at Beugy’s had lit him up. It was then that he realized that his desire had morphed beyond the physical. He craved intimacy—an emotional and intellectual connection with her. Was it possible? He closed his eyes, imagining touching and trailing kisses over that soft-looking, glowing skin of hers and basking in the heat of her eyes as she came apart. He groaned through clenched teeth as he roughly fisted himself, for the second time in less than twelve hours, then rinsed under cold water and toweled off. His breathing heaving and body still quaking in the aftermath as he dressed.

He went to the kitchen and poured a coffee, then went outside and thought about last night, after leaving the poolparty. Dinner had been a generous to-go barbecue dinner with all of the fixings and ice-cold beer while watching the first half ofMission Impossible: Final Reckoning

What would have happened if he had returned to the party? Would he and Jorja have resumed where they left off in the private hall at Beugy’s?

For the first time in a long time, he felt unsettled. Could it be because Skye was flying to Colorado to spend a month with his brother—Lee, her other favorite uncle—and then starting her first year of college weeks afterward, leaving him alone in the spacious post and beam house? Or was it due to the fiery woman who had entered his orbit just days ago, causing him to question what he believed to be a perfectly ordered life?

Pangs of loneliness surfaced, uncomfortable and sharp. He wanted more. At the ripe age of thirty-seven, all of that seemed beyond reach. Was it?

Recently, he became aware of the ticking clock, thanks in part to Skye saying her piece last night, which also brought up memories of Nell and Luis; they had enjoyed a wonderful marriage. Until his niece came to live with him, he was a confirmed bachelor, never intending to settle down or have kids. After adjusting to raising a teenager, he found himself to be the happiest he could remember.

Shortly after Skye was born, Nell and Luis had asked him to step in as guardian should anything happened to them. He agreed to all of the terms in their will and signed it with them in front of their attorney, never dreaming that the unthinkable would happen.

Luis had been an only. His extended family fought for custody, but the guardianship order held. His grieving fourteen-year-old niece came to live with him. Deeply shaken, Lee took a leave of absence from his job in Piñon Ridge and their parents returned from Europe. All of them stayed at the ranch for threemonths, grieving and supporting one another, growing closer than ever. Nell’s and Luis’ remains were buried in the Carpenter cemetery in the spot Skye chose. It was an area that was sacred and was to remain untouched by oil and gas and ranching operations.

Rake’s parents guided him in learning the ropes of parenting versus being an uncle. He learned the best way to approach his closed-up niece was through riding the ranch. It was during her time in the saddle that she opened up—crying, raging, and reminiscing. He and Lee took her to pick out her own horse. She chose a gentle Palomino mare and renamed her Buttercup.

Skye begged to remain at the ranch with him and her horse and to be homeschooled. Rake fought it, not having the time or confidence to add one more thing to his overflowing plate, but his mom set everything up and kept an eye on her granddaughter’s progress from wherever she was. Lee helped. A year later, his niece petitioned and received permission from the consolidated high school to participate in classes and activities. She made friends outside of 4-H but continued to be mostly homeschooled.

Time and frank discussions served Rake and Skye well. Their relationship solidified as they navigated the path of becoming ward and guardian, forgiving and learning from the failures and celebrating the successes. It had been miserably difficult at first, but now it was easy, and he loved her as his. She still spent a fair amount of time up on the elevated topography, under the dappled shade provided by a copse of trees. She insisted on taking care of the Carpenter cemetery herself and added an appealing perimeter fence and gate that she constructed in his workshop, and wildflowers—her mom’s favorites. It was beautiful.

His thoughts returned to Jorja. That confounded woman. As Skye had inappropriately shared yesterday, Jorja had him inknots. He was as confused as a goat on astro turf. She could be as prickly as a porcupine, wrapped up in an alluring woman-package. Her beauty could stop traffic, but she was smart as a whip and tough as nails because she had to be. Jorja was working in a profession that was predominantly a man's field.

He had only one choice: to sign with her or someone else. Either or. That was it. Damned Texas law. He had a pretty good idea of what parcels of land the lease would cover. He had copies of the updated seismic surveys.

Was she playing a game with him? His gut said no, that she was as swept up in their intertwined contentious history as he was. How could he yearn for an enemy of the Carpenter family? Because he and Jorja were not enemies. They were the next generation of pawns, as his astute niece had pointed out while they walked to the truck after leaving the party.

“Sorry to pull you away from the Jorja scenery, Uncle.” She teased, bumping her shoulder into his side as they walked to the truck. "I like her. You seem to, too.”

“I don't like her. She's simply a puzzle I'm trying to figure out. A conundrum.”

“Great word. Thanks for the vocab lesson. But I call bullshit.”

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