The Return of the Rebel. Jennifer Faye
don’t know a thing about me.” The fact that she didn’t think he’d changed stung more than he’d expected.
“Then why don’t you tell me how you ended up in this exclusive bungalow?”
He let out a frustrated sigh as exhaustion coursed through his body. “This is exactly why I need another host. I shouldn’t have to explain myself. A stranger wouldn’t butt into my life.”
A pained look crossed her face, making him regret his heated words.
“You’re right. You don’t owe me any explanations. I just need you to forget everything that happened up until this point and give me another chance to be the best casino host you’ve ever had.” She twisted her hands together. “But there’s one more thing you should know.”
His patience was wearing thin and he was so tired. “What is it?”
“This job isn’t just for me.” Her voice was so low, he almost missed what she’d said.
“What are you talking about?” Then a thought struck him. His gaze sought out her left hand, finding her ring finger bare. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t a single mother. “Who’s relying on you?”
She wrapped her long honey-gold hair around her finger in a similar manner to the way she used to twist her father and brothers around her pinkie. But they were a long way from Hope Springs and he wasn’t so easily swayed. If only he could get past his fascination with this grown-up version of Cleo. It was just a lot to take in at once.
“It’s the ranch—the Bar S.” Her worried gaze met his. “It’s in a serious bind.”
The worry in her eyes ate at him. “Kurt never mentioned anything about problems with the ranch when we’ve talked.”
“I’m sure it’s a matter of Sinclair pride. That’s what got us into this trouble in the first place. It seems my father had been juggling money to cover his bases for quite a while without telling anyone that the Sinclair fortune had dwindled to nothing.”
The knowledge that the high-and-mighty Sinclairs had come down off their lofty spot in the community didn’t give Jax the satisfaction he once thought it would. Maybe it was the distressed look on Cleo’s face that drove home the reality of what she was telling him. People were about to lose their way of life—their home.
“But I don’t understand. What does any of that have to do with you being my casino host?”
“I need money to send home to put toward the mortgage. It’s in arrears.”
The Bar S was mortgaged to the hilt? He’d always looked at that ranch in awe and dreamed of one day having a spread just like it. Why hadn’t Kurt mentioned any of this to him?
Later he would have to call Kurt and see if there was something he could do to help. Just as quickly, he realized he couldn’t do that without mentioning Cleo. This would take a lot more thought before he acted. And right now, he needed to straighten things out with Cleo.
In his exhausted state, his brain just wasn’t making all of the necessary connections. “So you want to be a casino host to make money for the family?”
She nodded. “The position pays a lot more than being an accountant.”
He leaned back on the banister at the bottom of the steps. “Oh, yes. You mentioned making a percentage of what I wager.”
She cocked her head to the side and stared at him intently. “Are you okay?”
“Of course. Why?”
“It’s just... Oh, never mind.”
This wasn’t good. The last thing he needed was for her to figure out that something truly was wrong with him. It was difficult for him to maintain a normal existence while waiting for his test results without having to deal with the pitying looks or the sympathy.
“Jax, you have to do this. You owe me.”
This sparked his attention. He always made it a policy to pay his debts. The thought of owing Cleo didn’t sit well with him. At all. “I do? Since when?”
“Remember when I saw you on the day you left town? You asked me not to tell anyone what you were up to and I kept that secret for you.”
Getting away from Hope Springs had turned his life around. If his father had his way, Jax never would have made anything of himself. Only his father hadn’t lived long enough to learn how he’d graduated from college at the top of his class and had made a killing in the stock market. Not that it mattered. All of that, including Cleo, was in his past. And he wasn’t going to get caught up in looking back—he didn’t when his biopsy came back positive and he refused to look back now.
Oblivious to his inner struggle, Cleo continued, “I knew what you were running from and I wanted to help. If your father had known where you went, he’d have tracked you down and dragged you back. He’d have made your life miserable.”
“You knew where I went? How?”
“I didn’t know for sure. But I had a pretty good guess. You didn’t talk about your family much, but when you did, you mentioned your mother’s sister in Virginia. I figured that’s where you went.”
He nodded. “It is. I spent the summer with her before I went on to college.”
“Your mother would have been so proud of you.”
He grew uncomfortable with all of this digging around in his past. His mother had been sick off and on most of his life until her frail body finally gave in and she passed away when he was a teenager. No one ever spoke of her because very few people knew her since she was usually housebound from one ailment or another. The doctors would have him believe that she had a weak body, but he never believed that was what did her in. He was convinced her spirit had been broken by his father, who bullied everyone and ruled the house with an iron fist.
“I’m sorry.” Cleo stepped closer to him. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“It’s okay. It’s nice having someone else around who remembers her. You were always kind to her and she liked you.”
“I liked her, too.”
He remembered how Cleo would stop by the house with school fund-raisers. She never rushed off. She’d sit down with his mother at the kitchen table and chat. At the time he hadn’t liked Cleo wedging her way into his life, but now looking back he realized she’d recognized a loneliness in his mom and had tried her best to fill it.
“Your mother was a really nice lady. And she made the most delicious chocolate chip cookies.”
Before he could say more, his phone buzzed. Adrenaline pumped through his veins. At last, he’d know his test results. He glanced over at Cleo. “I’ll be right back.”
He moved to the kitchen, seeking privacy. No one knew about his brush with death, and he intended to keep it that way. He didn’t want people looking at him as if he was less of a man.
He went to answer the phone but the other party had already disconnected. Jax rushed to check the caller ID but it was blocked, leaving him no clue as to who was trying to contact him. If it was important, they’d call back.
He returned to the front room, where Cleo was studying what was bound to be an expensive painting. He could never tell a Rembrandt from a Picasso. He just knew what he liked.
Jax stuffed his hands into his pockets. His fingers brushed over the smooth metal of the old pocket watch that he kept with him as a good-luck charm. More times than he could count it had brought him peace of mind. Only today its magic hadn’t worked.
Today it reminded him of the past and the fact that Cleo’s grandfather had given him the watch. Jax’s gut was telling him that her grandfather would want him to help Cleo, no matter how hard it would be for him.
* * *
Cleo