“Nobody’s fault, really,” Lucy said quietly. “The horse wasn’t to blame, either. He was just mad and scared and reacted the only way he could. Dane had a lot of broken bones, spinal injuries, but it was the head injury that killed him.” She rested her chin on her joined hands on the rail fence. “He was in a coma a week before I finally accepted that he was gone. They pulled the plug that afternoon and the very next day I found out I was pregnant with Brody.”
“Oh, my God.” Jillian slumped against the fence, heart hurting. For all the troubles she’d had in her life, nothing could compare to what Lucy had already endured. Admiration filled her, because this woman was strong enough to get past her own grief and build a life for her son. She didn’t hold on to bitterness or sit in a corner and scream Why me? She just went on with her life, taking care of Brody and focusing on the future. Jillian understood that.
“Wow.” Lucy laughed shortly and slanted Jillian an apologetic glance. “That got grim fast. Sorry. Didn’t mean to unload all of that on you.”
“Don’t apologize.” She shook her head. “One of these days, I’ll tell you my own sad stories and then we’ll be even.”
“Deal.” Lucy’s smile was wide and bright.
“I’m curious though,” she said, shifting her gaze back to the man in the corral. “How did that accident affect Jesse?”
“It was bad for a long time,” Lucy admitted. “He blamed himself. Still does, I think, in spite of how often I tell him there’s no blame to be handed out.”
Jillian thought Lucy was probably right. There was a darkness in Jesse’s eyes; shadows that seemed to never lift. “What happened to the horse?”
“Oh, Jesse trained him. After that day, the stallion seemed to settle down. He went home a different animal.”
Of course Jesse kept training the horse. He wasn’t the kind of man to walk away from a job half-done, no matter the pain that surrounded the task. Funny that Jillian felt she knew Jesse so well after knowing him such a short time.
“Anyway, different subject entirely.” Lucy turned to her and waited until Jillian was looking into her eyes to continue. “I actually came out here to tell you that I talked to Ginger at the day care—she forgot to get your cell number earlier—and she wants to know if you can start working on Monday.”
Stunned, Jillian only stared at her. “Don’t I have to be background-checked or…something?”
Tipping her head to one side, Lucy said softly, “Sweetie, when you showed up here claiming Will was Mac’s father, every one of the Sanders lawyers went over your background with a dozen combs each.”
“Oh.” She swallowed hard. “Fabulous.”
“I let Ginger know that everything had been checked already and that you’re good.” Lucy shrugged. “Told her if she had any specific questions, she should contact one of our lawyers. But the Sanders word goes a long way here.”
Jillian wondered if the lawyers had enjoyed what they’d found? Silently, she ticked through her personal history. Father left the family when Jillian was a kid. Mother left two years later. Grandma Rhonda raised Jillian, taught her how to cook, instilled in her how to be loyal and strong and other lessons Rhonda’s own daughter had never learned.
At nineteen, Jillian was engaged briefly to a rodeo cowboy who left because he decided he wasn’t made to be a family man. Showgirl at a casino on the strip, then she met Will Sanders—or, she reminded herself, a reasonable facsimile—and he left her life without a backward glance.
Only this time, the man walking away from her had left her with something precious. Her daughter, Mac. And for that, she’d always be grateful to…whoever he was.
She wasn’t a thief, had never been arrested or even gotten so much as a speeding ticket. But still, it wasn’t much of a résumé.
“Stop looking so stricken.” Lucy’s elbow nudged Jillian’s arm. “Ginger hired you, right?”
“True,” she said, nodding to herself. Apparently, making bad choices and having every man you ever cared anything for walk out on you wasn’t enough to keep her from getting the job. And that was what mattered, right?
If the people in Royal found out about her past, it shouldn’t count at all. Because Jillian’s past wasn’t going to define her. It was her present she had to think about. And the future she was going to build. For herself. For Mac. And nobody was going to stop her.
“So, now that you’re employed—”
And didn’t that sound good?