The Rancher and the Vet. Julie Benson
responsible for her mom leaving.
Lynn’s death had also meant that Colt had to revise his family-care plan in case he was deployed.
“You weren’t driving the car. Her lover was.”
“They think if I’d been a better husband, she wouldn’t have left. In their opinion I should’ve spent more time at home and less time with the reserves. Blaming me is easier than accepting the truth.”
An only child, Lynn had grown up catered to—spoiled rotten, actually. Colt’s wife had been high-maintenance, self-centered and had believed her husband’s life should revolve around her.
“Is Joanne doing well enough that Jess could go live with them in Florida?” In addition to being unqualified for the job, Reed thought, his life and business were here in San Francisco. How could he up and leave for Colorado?
“She said she should be eventually, but there’s another problem. Their retirement community only lets children stay for a week. Last night Herb brought up the subject at a town hall meeting, and everyone went crazy. The Association of Homeowners thinks if it makes an exception for Jess, within a month they’ll be overrun with kids.”
“Threaten them with a lawsuit. That’ll make them back down. Better yet, give me your in-laws’ number. I’ll have my lawyer call them.”
“You need their phone number, but there’s no point in them talking to your lawyer.” As Colt rattled off the phone number, Reed added it to his computer address book. “Even if they made an exception, Jess refuses to live in ‘an old folks’ neighborhood where people drive golf carts because they’re scared to drive a car.’ That’s a direct quote. She said when she stays with her grandparents they never go anywhere. So in her words, she’d be a prisoner.”
While he felt bad for his niece, that didn’t mean Reed wanted to return to the old homestead and play dad. He’d been happy to see Estes Park in the rearview mirror of his beat-up truck when he left for Stanford. The thought of returning for anything longer than a weekend visit left him queasy.
“You’re the parent. Don’t ask Jess what she wants. Tell her what she’s going to do.”
Colt laughed. “That’s easy to say for someone who doesn’t have kids. I tried the strong-arm approach. She threatened to run away.”
“Teenagers say that every time they don’t get their way.”
“I think she meant it, Reed.” Colt’s voice broke. “She’s been having trouble since Lynn died, but she won’t talk about it. Last year she started cutting classes and sneaking out at night to meet friends. Living in a retirement community and going to a new school would only make things worse.”
Somehow Reed couldn’t connect the sweet niece he’d seen a year and a half ago at Christmas with the teenager his brother described. Jess had been eager to please, had loved school and was an excellent student. He stared at her picture on the corner of his mahogany desk. Her wide smile and twinkling brown eyes spoke of how carefree she’d been. Of course, the photo had been snapped before her mom ran off. He knew how that betrayal had affected Colt, but how could a kid wrap her head around something like that?
And his brother expected him to deal with a teenager who’d lost her mother and was acting out? What did he know about dealing with difficult children? Nothing except the piss poor example his father had given him. His stomach dropped. When Jess pushed him, and she would—hell, all teenagers did, even the good ones—how would he deal with it? Would he react like his old man, with a closed mind and an iron fist?
No, he was better than his father.
He’d worked hard to become the man he was today and, unlike his father, he tried to do something about his anger. When Reed had worried he might repeat the cycle of violence, he’d taken an anger-management class. Of course, going back to Estes Park and dealing with a teenager could test the techniques he’d learned.
The good news was he and Jess got along well. He loved his niece, and to her he was the cool uncle who sent great gifts like the newest iPhone. They’d be okay. “You really think she was serious about running away?”
“I wouldn’t ask you to come here otherwise—not when you could be here up to a year. I know this will make running your business tough.”
His cell phone beeped in his ear, alerting him to another call. Reed glanced at the screen. Damn. He’d been trying to get in touch with Phil Connor all morning. Forcing himself to let the call go to voice mail, Reed focused on his brother’s problem. “Tricky? Yes. Impossible? No. Could she come here instead?”
“As if dealing with losing her mom wasn’t enough, soon after that her best friend moved to Chicago. Now I’m going to a war zone. I’m nervous about uprooting her, too. That’s another reason I backed down when she balked about going to Florida. I need you to do this for me. You and Jess are the only family I’ve got.”
The words hit Reed hard. He and Colt had always been close. Even before their parents died, he and Colt had relied on each other, sticking together through all the crap slung at them during childhood. While Reed’s life the past few years had been almost perfect, Colt hadn’t been as lucky. Life had knocked his brother around pretty well, especially the past year. How could Reed add to Colt’s problems? Only a selfish bastard would say no.
“How soon do you need me there?”
“I leave in three days. If you get here tomorrow, that’ll give us time to go over things before I leave.” Colt’s heavy sigh radiated over the phone lines. “If anything happens to me, promise me you’ll—”
“Don’t say that.” While Reed tried to fill his voice with confidence, he knew there was no guarantee Colt would come home in one piece, or come home at all.
“I’ve got to and, dammit, Reed, you will listen. If I don’t come back, promise me you’ll watch out for Jess. Sure, Lynn’s parents would take her, but I’m not sure that’s best for her, especially if they won’t move to Colorado.”
“I give you my word, but you’ve got to take care. Don’t do anything stupid. You don’t have to be a superhero.”
Colt chuckled, but the sound rang flat in Reed’s ears. “Deal.”
After ending his conversation with his brother, Reed returned Phil’s call and reassured his client that their project was still on schedule. He was proud of his company, of what he’d accomplished. RJ Instruments was small, with only forty employees, but it was his. Something he’d created from nothing, and the company was holding its own in the market. They were the up-and-comers in the semiconductor business, making the chips that drove many of today’s electronic wonder gadgets.
Of course, all of that could change when he started running things remotely.
Reed turned his attention to his calendar and his upcoming meetings. Some he could handle via Skype. With a laptop and his cell phone, he could run his business long-distance for a couple of months, but more than that? Probably not. His customers would want to see him in person. He’d have to make in-person sales calls to launch SiEtch. He smiled, thinking of their newest product. If he was right, they’d revolutionize the semiconductor industry, but they were approaching some crucial deadlines for release. He definitely couldn’t run his business remotely for a whole year until Colt returned.
He hadn’t gotten where he was by letting fate toss him around. He’d created a solid business by being proactive. His mind worked the problem, rehashing the immediate issues forcing him to return to Colorado—the Association of Homeowners’ age restriction and Jess’s resistance.
No matter what Colt thought, the first step was tackling the association’s age restriction. Reed turned to his computer and clicked on his address book to locate Colt’s in-laws’ number. Then he opened a new email, hit the priority icon and typed a message to his lawyer.
Contact my brother’s in-laws to get the contact information for their Association