Camel Rock had, in fact, been a rock that looked like a camel—the boulder that formed the head perching in what looked like a precarious manner on the elongated neck of the beast. They hadn’t stopped with the cluster of other vehicles parked nearby, but had instead carried on with the promise of amazing food in Santa Fe.
He hadn’t oversold that promise.
The restaurant had been a little fancier than she expected, but they hadn’t seemed under dressed. Not for lunch, anyway. The food had pushed away any hint of concern she’d had about staying. Spicy, tangy flavors that she hadn’t found in any sort of Mexican or Tex-Mex before. Morgan said it was the green chile and the fact that New Mexican food was a blend unique to the state.
Skye was willing to believe it.
She’d fought the urge to doze the rest of the trip to Albuquerque and when they finally pulled into the parking garage at the airport, she’d let out a big sigh. “We’re going in, right?”
Morgan chuckled. “Need to walk?”
“So much.” Hopefully her legs would carry her. The weakness seemed to come and go whenever it felt like it. Even a tiny bit of predictability would make life that much easier. Sitting here, all the problems she’d had this morning appeared to be gone.
“Then sure. Let’s head in.” He checked the time on his phone. “We’re early enough that we should be able to get to the place where they’ll exit.”
“Had you arranged a different place to meet?” She didn’t want to throw everything off just because she needed to stretch her legs.
“Not really. Betsy and Wayne were supposed to come, and they said they’d planned to wait near the entrance to the parking garage. We can catch them before that. It’s not a huge airport.” Morgan jerked his head in the direction he started walking.
Skye hurried to catch up as he wove through parked cars. “Can we not jog?”
“Sorry. Habit.” He slowed and tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Better?”
“Yes. Thanks.”
Morgan took them into the airport and navigated the small crowd with sure steps. They finally stopped near a bank of chairs. “We should see them from here.”
“Do you get down here a lot?” He seemed to know the airport well for a place that was so far from his home.
“The airport? Not really. Albuquerque, sure. At least every four, maybe six, weeks. We can get a lot of what we need online, some of the rest in Santa Fe, but not everything.” He shrugged. “That’s life in the mountains.”
Skye nodded and scanned the trickle of people heading toward them for her brother. It didn’t sound terrible. And that surprised her. She would never have said she was a small town girl, let alone someone who lived a decent drive from said small town. But maybe her doctors were on to something and the slower pace and distance from hustle would do the trick. It would be good to get her energy back. “I think I see him.”
“Yeah, that’s Maria beside him. She looks happy.”
“Why wouldn’t she?” There was something—was it a touch of wistfulness in his voice—that got her back up. Her brother was a good man. If Maria was who he wanted, then he deserved to have her in his life. Skye was more concerned about whether or not Maria was right for Cyan. The fact that she’d been the one to push him over the last of his doubts about Jesus was a point in her favor. Calvin was another. But . . . she’d reserve her final judgment until she got to know her future sister-in-law.
Morgan’s head snapped toward her. He looked confused, had he not heard his tone? “I’m not jealous, if that’s what you’re thinking. It was an observation. Most of the time, when people get off an airplane, they just look tired.”
“Sorry.” Skye crossed her arms. Was she taking out her nerves on Morgan? Why did she even have nerves? This was Cyan. He was going to be glad to see her. Even if it was a surprise.
“Come on, let’s go say hi—I don’t think they’re going to see us on their own.” Morgan grabbed her hand and gave a little tug.
Skye tightened her grip on his hand, soaking up the warmth of the contact. She should let go—but at the same time, he was steering her through the sudden crowd. Letting go was liable to end with her getting lost. Morgan was tall enough to see over people as they threaded their way toward her brother and future sister-in-law.
Sister-in-law.
Skye’s stomach clenched. What if Maria didn’t like her?
“Cyan!” Morgan waved his arm over his head.
Too late to worry about whether or not this was a good idea. Skye forced her lips into a smile. “Surprise.”
“Skye?” Cyan stopped and, after a brief flash of shock, his face split into a grin. He dropped the backpack he was holding by the strap and grabbed her into a tight hug. “What are you doing here?”
Skye laughed and her muscles relaxed. Why had she doubted? “Long story. The short version is that I couldn’t let everyone else meet the grandparents. You know I have FOMO.”
“That you do.” Cyan set her down and turned to include Maria in their little circle. “Maria, this is my sister Skye.”
“We met on the phone that time you did the video chat with everyone, Cy.” Skye held out her hand. “Still, it’s nice to meet you in person. I kind of already feel like I know you—I’ve been here since Monday, and Calvin has a lot to say about his mom.”
Maria’s smile was small and hesitant. “I doubt much of it is true.”
“Please.” Morgan reached for the bag Maria was carrying and scooped up the backpack Cyan had dropped. “You’re amazing and your son knows it. It’s good that he’s not afraid to share his knowledge. Do you have other luggage?”
Maria nodded.
Morgan gestured in the direction they’d come from. “Let’s head that way, then. You’re both probably ready to be home.”
“Congratulations. And welcome to the family.” Skye glanced over at Maria, her eyes flitting down to check out the ring Cyan had given. It was even more beautiful in person than it had been in the photo. And that was more productive than dwelling on the fact that Morgan thought Maria was amazing. He might say he wasn’t jealous, but that didn’t sound like it was completely true. “Although I guess you’re already basically family. I haven’t known my grandparents that long, but I can tell they consider everyone on the ranch one of theirs.”
“They do. They’re good people.” Cyan took Maria’s hand and leaned over to kiss her temple as they walked. He turned his gaze back at Skye. “You’ve lost weight.”
Skye fought a frown. She wasn’t getting into that right now. Maybe never. If she could give a clear explanation on why, she wouldn’t mind sharing, but when every doctor she saw told her it was anxiety and tried to prescribe a new med, the weight loss never seemed to get addressed. “Not on purpose.”
“You sure?” He sent her a searching look.
Skye watched the way Morgan, two steps ahead of them, held his head. He was listening. Had he wondered about her weight, too? She fought a sigh. It wasn’t that she thought eating disorders were uncommon, but the man had seen her eat. “Yeah. Look—it’s part of why I’m here. Maybe once you’re settled in, I could get an hour?”
Cyan nodded. “Of course.”
Skye swallowed. It was good. It had to be good. If nothing else, maybe Cyan would have some more ideas of conditions to research online. Her own searches were turning up the same things the doctors were convinced of: anxiety. And lying. And okay, sure, maybe she did occasionally get anxious, but this was way more than that. It had to be.
As they neared the baggage claim and joined the ranks of passengers waiting for their bags, Skye realized just how much she was banking on her brother having some way to help. Maybe the Holy Spirit had guided her here. She breathed a prayer that that was true. Because maybe that meant God was finally going to explain what was going on.
Skye shuffled down the hall, through the family room, and into the kitchen, following her nose to the coffee pot. This morning, she’d waited in her room until sh
e was able to walk more steadily. No point in giving someone else the impression she was hung over. That had clearly crossed Morgan’s mind yesterday morning, and she still wasn’t ready to explain. Even though Cyan had made it clear she’d be doing just that as soon as he got a hold of her.
Now, where were the mugs again? She opened the cabinet in front of her and smiled. At least her grandparents—or was it their housekeeper?—had a reasonable sense of organization. She grabbed a giant, cobalt blue mug, and filled it with coffee, pausing a moment to inhale the fragrance before taking her first sip.
“Don’t you need some cream and sugar in that?” Betsy patted Skye’s shoulder as she reached around for a mug.
“No. This is wonderful just as it is.” She cradled her coffee and sat on one of the stools at the bar.
“What are you up to today?” Betsy added a long pour of creamer to her coffee before joining Skye. “I thought I might take one of the horses out for some exercise, if you’d like to join me.”
“Riding?”
“That’s the traditionally accepted method, yes.” Betsy’s eyes sparkled with laughter. “Please tell me you’ve ridden a horse before.”
Had she? There was a vague memory of it. “Maybe?”
“Your father loved horses. Loved riding. He didn’t even keep that and share it with his children?” Betsy shook her head. “I wish I understood what happened.”
She wasn’t the only one. Skye wished that herself. So far, none of the charges her father had leveled at his parents were panning out. “I don’t know, but I’m sorry for it.”
“It’s not yours to take on. Please don’t do that.” Betsy covered Skye’s hand with her own. “At the end of the day, Wayne and I are finally getting our chance to know you. That’s what matters. And finding out that three of the five of my grandchildren have met Jesus? That’s even better.”
“I’ve been working on Royal a little. He’s not openly antagonistic anymore.” Which was huge progress. Skye still didn’t see her twin ever opening his heart to God, but then, she’d never imagined she would, either. If he did? It was unlikely to be something she helped bring about. She wasn’t exactly the picture of success when it came to . . . anything.
“Can I ask what brought you to church and to God?”
“My roommate when I graduated from college was very religious. She was always asking me to come to church or go to this activity or the other with her. I finally agreed just to get her off my case. A few conversations here and there and I started to believe that these people who loved Jesus were always happy. They didn’t have any troubles or struggles—everything was perfect all the time. I wanted that.”
“But . . . that doesn’t seem right.”
“Because it isn’t. I just didn’t see it. My roommate led me to Christ and said how a relationship with Jesus would fix all the broken, hurting places in my life.” Skye offered a wan smile. She’d hoped for the longest time that her faith would bring on a miracle of Biblical proportions. For the first six months she’d dreamed of Jesus touching her forehead and saying, “Woman, be healed.” But every morning, she still woke up unable to stand, choking back the urge to vomit. “I’ve had some . . . health concerns. We prayed about them. I still do. But when they didn’t go away right off, she and everyone I knew at church started asking me what I was doing wrong.”
“Oh, honey.”
“But I didn’t know. No one believed me. They all thought I must be doing something in secret—some sin that God was punishing me for—because otherwise I’d be healed.” And really, there was a tiny part of her that wondered. Jesus had spent His time on earth healing the sick because of their faith. Something had to be wrong with her faith if He hadn’t healed her.
Betsy sighed. “Christians are good at kicking each other when they’re down. I’m so sorry you experienced that. Are you . . . do you still believe?”
“I guess so. It’s not Jesus who couldn’t measure up. It’s me.” Skye curled her hands around her mug.
“I think we’ve all been there at one time or another. It’s one of the great lies Satan whispers in our ears, and it’s effective because it fits with so much else in life where effort is the determining factor in success. I’d love for you to come with us on Sunday, but I won’t push. Or, if you don’t want to join us, you could catch a ride with Morgan. He attends a different congregation in town.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“The invitation’s open. As is the one for a ride—let’s say after lunch?”
Spending time with her grandmother was interesting. Skye wasn’t sure about the whole horse riding thing, though. Was it going to be a whole bunch of nagging about Jesus and coming to church with them? She hadn’t been to church in like five months. Once it was obvious that Skye wasn’t able to do the whole Christian thing right, she’d stopped going. She didn’t need to spend three hours every Sunday getting her failure drummed into her. When Skye had stopped attending initially, her roommate hadn’t let it go—harping at her every time they were in the same room. Or sometimes even when they weren’t.
“A ride after lunch sounds nice. Thanks.”
Betsy smiled. “Wonderful. Could you do me a favor?”
“I guess.”
“After you finish your coffee, even a second cup if you want, would you walk up to the stables and let Morgan know our plans? He knows I enjoy riding Blaze, and I’m sure he’ll be able to choose the right mount for you. That way he can have them ready when it’s time.”
“But can’t you call him or something?” She really didn’t need to see Morgan. Why she hadn’t put seeing him and horseback riding together could be blamed only on talking too much and not getting the necessary caffeine into her bloodstream. She’d shared more with him yesterday than she’d done in a long time. It was equal parts refreshing and terrifying.
Plus she didn’t know where she stood with him. Was he in love with Maria? Did he resent her and her brother? Was he completely uninterested in her? She had no idea. The man had a poker face that could win tournaments.
“He never answers the phone when he’s working. He doesn’t bite. Promise.”
Skye snorted. “You can’t walk down?”
“Not any time soon. In fact,” Betsy glanced at the smart watch on her wrist, “I need to get going. I’ve got some appointments in town. I’ll be back after lunch. Maria knows not to expect Wayne and me, but she’ll have something for you and Cyan around noon. Thanks for handling the ride for us.”
Skye watched as her grandmother carried her coffee cup in the direction of the office she shared with Wayne. She frowned. Fan. Tastic.
Maybe the ride wasn’t such a great idea after all. She could go back to her room and take a nap. Scroll social media. Read a book. And then, when Betsy came back expecting to get on a horse? Surely Morgan could saddle something without advance notice. And Skye could bow out. She’d say . . . no excuse came to mind, but she could probably come up with something between now and then?
She drained her coffee and blew out a breath.
Or she could be a grown up and just do what her grandmother asked.
Even if it meant dealing with the most confusing man on the planet.
Skye carried her empty mug to the sink and rinsed it before heading back to the bedroom she was using. When she’d put on her shoes and grabbed her phone, she slipped her headphones in and tapped on her brother Royal’s podcast. He was interviewing a video game writer today—it was interesting. As much as she enjoyed playing video games with her brother, she hadn’t given a ton of thought to the people who came up with the storylines.
Horses already stood in the same field as yesterday. Snow that had fallen overnight sheltered in pockets of shade, but had otherwise melted in the morning sunshine. Skye checked her weather app. An expected high near sixty today. Spring in northern New Mexico was weird.
She didn’t see Morgan in with the horses, which meant she’d trudge up to the stable and see if he was there. Maybe a
fterward, she’d figure out where her brother was living these days. He’d told her about a cabin on the property—and there were little buildings nestled in the trees but still an easy walk to the main house—but which one? Skye couldn’t quite picture her brother living in a cabin, for that matter. Cabins were for mountain men, and her brother was definitely not one of those.
Did Morgan live in a cabin, too?
She could kind of see that. He was rough enough around the edges in that subtle way that could make a girl’s mouth water. Cyan would tell her Morgan was too old. The two of them were closer in age. Morgan might even be a year or two older.
Skye paused the podcast and tugged her headphones from her ears. Pondering cabins, her brother, and Morgan didn’t exactly leave room for her to pay attention. She slowed as she approached the stable.
Why couldn’t her grandmother have just called to set things up?
Morgan strolled around the corner, whistling. He stopped, cocked his head to the side, and lifted a hand. “Hey.”
“Aren’t you supposed to say howdy?”
He laughed. “I’m not from Texas. Out for a walk?”
“I was actually coming to see you.”
His grin was slow and sexy. “Yeah?”
Her stomach tightened. “That came out wrong.”
“You’re not coming to see me?”
“No. I mean yes, I am. But not like that.”
“Not like what?”
Skye waved her hands. “Like that.”
“Uh huh. Then how?”
“How? How what?”
“How were you coming to see me?”
Skye furrowed her brow. When had this conversation gone off the rails? “Horses. I came to talk to you about horses.”
“Ah. You didn’t come help me walk them down this morning. I figured you were over the horse aspect of the ranch.”
Skye shrugged. Horses weren’t really her thing, but that was more from lack of exposure than anything else. Maybe, with time, she could learn to love them. “Betsy wants to go for a ride after lunch.”
Hope for Tomorrow Page 4