by Tracy Wolff
“That’s supposed to be my line today.” She paused, taking in these three incredible people who came from her and Jesse. “I’m so proud of you, Willow. So proud of all of you. You have to know that.”
“I do.” Willow clasped Desiree’s hand in her own. “We all do.”
Dakota patted Desiree’s shoulder in an awkward but touching gesture. “Thanks, Mom.”
“For what?”
“For being you,” Rio commented huskily.
“I know I haven’t done everything right—with any of you. I’ve been too busy, too concerned with the ranch. But I do love the three of you more than anything in this world.”
“Even the Triple Crown?” Willow’s expression registered her shock at her own words. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s a fair question.” Desiree sank onto the edge of the bed. She didn’t want to have this conversation, didn’t want to explain herself, to admit her flaws. But they deserved to know, and when would she have another chance? “The Triple Crown was everything to your grandfather—especially after my mother died. The idea of winning it gave his life purpose, and soon that purpose became an obsession that nearly consumed him and everyone around him.”
She paused, cleared her throat. “I watched it destroy him, watched it take over everything that he once was and everything that he could be. A few weeks before he died—almost as if he knew something was going to happen to him—he called me into his office and made me promise to win it, made me swear to bring the title home.”
Desiree looked each of her children in the eye. “I gave him my word. Swore to him that I would do everything in my power to win those three races.”
Desiree sighed. “I knew it was a dangerous promise, knew that it could easily consume me the same way it did him. But I was young and arrogant. Invincible, at least in my own mind.”
“Mom, stop.” Willow pleaded desperately. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think it’s long past time for me to do this. It’s come to my attention recently—and quite painfully, if I’m to be truthful—that I’ve done to my family what I swore I’d never do. I’ve put you second. From the moment my father died, I’ve put you and your father aside until I’d accomplished what I wanted to do. Until I’d proven that I was as good as any man and brought the Triple Crown home.
“I let you grow up waiting for a mother who was only there part of the time. And here you are, all grown up, yet I’m still chasing a fool’s dream. I’m still trying to prove to Big John that I’m worthy, even if I wasn’t born male.”
“It’s okay, Mom.” Rio’s voice was hoarse.
“No, it’s not. It’s not even close to being okay.” Desiree closed her eyes, tried to swallow the knot that filled her throat. “But I am sorrier than you can ever know that I let myself get so caught up in a dream that wasn’t even mine that I missed so much of what you wanted to share with me.”
“Don’t,” Dakota said. “You were always there when we needed you. Maybe you missed some of the small stuff, but the important stuff, you were always there for that.”
He crouched in front of Desiree, took both of her hands in his. “Don’t give up,” he said fiercely. “Whatever Dad said, whatever he did, he didn’t mean it. He loves you.”
She shook her head. “I’m not saying this because of your father. I’m saying this because of me. I look at you three and realize that I’ve done you a disservice through the years. I’ve been so caught up in remaining loyal to my father’s vision of the ranch that I forgot the loyalty that I owed the three of you.”
“That’s not true, Mom.”
She pinned her daughter with a calm, steady stare. “Yes, it is. And I’m sorry for it. I promise, from now on, you’ll see some changes around here. Changes for the positive.”
“What about Dad?” Rio asked.
It took Desiree a moment to let the pain pass before she could answer. “I don’t know.” She shrugged, wrapped her arms around her waist as if to protect herself from a sudden chill. “But whatever happens between your father and me, I want you to know that I mean every word I’ve said here today. I never meant to hurt you. I can’t fix the past, but I can fix the future if you’ll let me.”
“It’s already fixed, Mom. Already forgotten.” Dakota’s voice was almost as hoarse as his mother’s.
“You’re so much more than I deserve.” Desiree sniffed, straightened her shoulders. “Please know that I’ve always loved you and that you’ve always been first in my heart. What I’ve done, I’ve done to protect your legacy, our legacy. I just went about it in the wrong way.”
She stared at her children for a moment, grateful for their presence. “Well, I think that’s more than enough soul-searching for one afternoon.” She glanced at the gold watch she wore, the one Jesse had given her for their fifteenth wedding anniversary, and gasped.
“My God, the wedding’s supposed to start in less than forty minutes.” She pushed her sons toward the door. “Go get dressed and head downstairs—ASAP. I’m sure things are heating up quickly.”
Without giving them a chance to say another word, she ushered them out of the room, shutting the door behind them. Turning to her daughter, she commented, “Well, let’s get this show on the road.”
Willow was already at her closet, unzipping the bag that held her wedding dress. “Already ahead of you. I think I can get everything on, but I’ll need you to zip me up.”
“And chance messing up that work of art on your head? Felipe would have my head.”
Willow giggled. “No kidding.”
“Can we come in?” called a voice from the doorway.
“Of course.” Desiree turned to see all four of her daughter’s bridesmaids at the door, resplendent in their strapless gowns of poinsettia-red silk.
“It’s about time you guys got here,” commented Willow. “What do I do first?”
“Jump out the window and run for the hills,” came her maid of honor’s sardonic reply.
“Ha-ha, very funny.” Willow rolled her eyes at her best friend.
Anna shrugged. “I told you I was the wrong person for this job. I still can’t fathom why you’d want to tie yourself down to the same man for the rest of your life.”
“Because I get to wear this fabulous dress,” Willow answered, completely deadpan. “Is that not reason enough?”
“You tell her, girl,” cheered Sam, Willow’s roommate from her freshman year in college.
“Stockings first,” commented Tori. “Then we’ll worry about the rest.”
The next twenty minutes passed in a blur as Willow dressed to her friends’ specifications. When everything was properly arranged—from the veil to the pale-blue garter—she breathed a huge sigh of relief. “I think I’m good to go.”
“Not quite.” Desiree reached into the bag she’d brought with her, pulled out the pearl necklace both she and her mother had worn at their own weddings. Motioning for Willow to turn around, she fastened it, dropping a quick kiss on Willow’s neck when she was finished.
“And one more thing.” She pulled out a small, red jeweler’s box. “I saw these a couple of weeks ago and thought they’d be perfect with your dress.”
Willow took the box. “What—”
“Open it.”
Willow flipped the lid and gasped, as did each of the other girls in the room. “Mom, they’re gorgeous. Absolutely fabulous.” With trembling hands, she unfastened one of the earrings, holding the cascade of diamonds and pearls up to her ear. “What do you think?”
“I think they were made for you.” Desiree blinked back the tears blooming in her eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. She hated being weak and out of control, but so much had happened in the past twelve hours that her coping mechanisms didn’t have a prayer of keeping up.
“Thanks, Mom.” Desiree found herself crushed against her daughter.
She clung for a moment, savoring the feel of her baby in her arms. “I love
you,” she whispered, smoothing a hand over Willow’s veiled hair.
“I love you, too, Mama.” Willow pulled away, looked her straight in the eye. “I don’t blame you for anything. No matter what you say, no matter what happens, I want you to know that what you gave us was more than good enough.”
Choking back her own sobs now, Desiree dropped her arms and moved away. “That’s enough. We’re getting maudlin, and your wedding day should be happy, not bittersweet.”
“Absolutely,” said Tori, as she locked an arm around Willow and began herding her toward the door. “Now let’s go before James thinks he’s been left at the altar. You’re already five minutes late.”
“Have you got everything?” Sam asked, looking around the room critically.
Willow’s hand closed over the journal Desiree held out for her. Willow’s eyes shone with so much hope that Desiree felt her own heart lift just a little. “Where’s your bouquet?” she asked huskily.
“I’ve got it,” Anna said briskly as she opened the door, her arms full of the poinsettias Willow would carry. “Are you ready for this?”
Willow’s smile was brilliant, her former doubts completely gone. “You bet.”
“Then let’s go find your dad,” Anna said. “And remember, once you get through this, everything else is a cakewalk. In twenty-five years we’ll all be sitting here celebrating your silver wedding anniversary and you’ll wonder why you were ever nervous.”
Willow faltered at the words, her gaze seeking her mother’s. “Don’t go there, baby. This day is about you and James, no one else,” Desiree said.
But as she watched her daughter nod, watched her smile as she turned to walk down the wide, circular staircase, Desiree’s smile faded as she remembered her own silver anniversary—less than two years before.
* * *
WILLOW GLANCED AT THE clock on the wall for the tenth time in as many minutes. “What should we do, Mom? It’s close to nine and people are getting restless.”
Desiree shrugged, but couldn’t keep an embarrassed heat from blossoming in her cheeks. “I don’t know what to do. Your father arranged to meet me here no later than seven forty-five. I’ve called his cell, tried the walkie-talkie but he’s not answering.”
“Do you want Rio and me to go look for him?” asked Dakota. “We can run over to the Cherokee and see if he’s around.”
Desiree stiffened at the mention of the small stable her husband had started independent of the Triple H. If he was over there instead of here, at the surprise party she’d thrown for him to celebrate their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, she didn’t know what she’d do. It was bad enough that the Triple H could no longer hold his attention; she couldn’t bear to think that the same could be said about her.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” she demurred as she forced a smile onto her face. “We’ll just forget the surprise, get the party into full swing and—”
“Without Dad?” Rio asked incredulously.
“But, Mom, we’re celebrating your anniversary,” Willow wailed.
“I know that!” Desiree snapped, then struggled for control. “But I don’t know what else to do. When your father shows up, he can join the party. Until then, we’ll just make his excuses and hope that everyone has a good time.”
Looking unconvinced, her children set off to do her bidding—turning up the music, mingling with the guests while she made sure that the bar was still well stocked and that the hors d’eouvres were circulating.
The next hour and a half passed with excruciating slowness as Desiree kept her smile painted on through sheer determination. If she saw one more person staring at her with pity, she would loose her mind completely. As it was, her cheeks ached, her head throbbed and her vision kept blurring at the most inopportune times.
“Excuse me, Desiree?”
She turned at the familiar voice. “Can I get you something, Edna?” she asked, forcing a brightness into her voice and smile that she was far from feeling.
“We’re going to take off,” Edna replied. “I’ve got an early morning tomorrow. But thank you for inviting us.”
“You don’t have to go. Jesse will—”
Edna’s smile was kind. “I’m sure he’ll be here any minute and I am sorry that I’ll miss him. But 4:00 a.m. comes quickly.”
“Of course it does.” Desiree smiled graciously, though she was screaming inside. Anger was slowly giving way to fear, and she was beginning to wonder if she should start calling the local hospitals. But wouldn’t someone have called her if Jesse had been in an accident?
That first departing couple launched a mass exodus. All too soon, Desiree was left alone, staring at her children and daughter-in-law in consternation. “Well, that was a bust,” she commented with a forced smile.
“I’m going to go look for him,” Dakota said furiously. “He can’t do this to you.”
“No one’s going anywhere,” answered Desiree. “Your father will get home when he gets home.”
“What if something’s wrong?” Willow asked.
“I’ll call over to Cherokee. See if he’s still there,” Rio volunteered.
“I’ll call,” Desiree insisted firmly. “Go on to bed.”
“But—” Dakota interjected.
“Go.” Desiree’s voice was firm as she stared down her children. They wanted to argue, but adults or not, they knew better than to mess with her when she used that tone.
Desiree waited until her children had ascended the stairs before she went to the office to call Jesse. But the phone rang and rang, no matter how much she willed him to pick up. After leaving messages on both his cell and office phones, she went upstairs and changed into jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt. She couldn’t imagine that he was at one of the ranch’s stables, but she wasn’t going to panic until she’d checked all the alternatives.
As she let herself into the house twenty-five minutes later, she acknowledged that maybe it really was time to let go of the anger and begin to seriously worry. She glanced at the clock on the living room mantel—12:15 a.m.—and no word from Jesse. It wasn’t like him to be so careless on a normal day, so she had trouble imagining him being deliberately callous on their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.
Uneasy, she walked back to the office, her teeth worrying her lower lip as she went. Indecision clawed at her—should she start calling the hospitals or wait a little longer? Should she call some of Jesse’s friends to find out if, for some reason, they had seen him? But most of his friends had been guests at tonight’s calamitous party, so she had trouble believing he was with any of them.
Rubbing her hands over her eyes as she sank into her desk chair, she stared at the phone willing it to ring. But it remained silent, and the uneasiness coalesced into a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. With a groan of dismay she turned and grabbed the phone book off the bottom of her bookshelf.
Which hospital would he go to? Which one would they rush him to if he’d had an accident? Panic welled, but she ruthlessly beat it back as she reached for the phone. There was no reason to lose it until she found out what had actually happened to him.
She was dialing the numbers to the third hospital—having struck out with the first two—when she heard the front door open. Frantic, she ran for the hall. “Where have you been?” she demanded, skidding to a halt inches from her husband. Her eyes ran over him from head to toes, checking for injuries. “Are you all right? I’ve been so worried.”
“Why?” he asked, casually slipping out of his jacket and reaching for a hanger from the closet.
Her mouth fell open. “Because you’re almost five hours late. Because it’s our anniversary. Because the kids and I threw a surprise party for you that you didn’t bother to show up for.”
“Why would you throw a party?” he asked calmly, stepping past her and heading for the stairs.
“Where are you going?”
“To bed. I’m tired.”
She trailed him up the stairs, nearly spee
chless with anger. “Without any kind of an explanation? I don’t think so.”
“I’m tired, Des. And I’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”
“What is wrong with you?” She reached for him but he turned away before she touched him. A sliver of hurt cut through the anger and bewilderment.
“I’ve had a long day and I’d like to go to sleep.” He shrugged out of his shirt, headed for the bathroom to clean up.
“Well, I’ve had an even longer day, and no one’s sleeping until I get some answers.” She got in front of him, held her ground though he tried to sweep past her. “I was calling the hospitals, Jesse.”
She saw a flicker of guilt cross his face—but it was there and gone so fast she wasn’t sure she hadn’t imagined it. “I was worried. I couldn’t imagine that you would voluntarily come home after midnight on our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.”
“Desiree—”
“Talk to me, Jess. Tell me what was so damned important that you couldn’t make it home until after our anniversary was over.”
She looked at him beseechingly, myriad emotions battling for a stronghold inside of her. But until he responded, until she knew why he had avoided coming home, she wouldn’t know which emotion she should let gain control or even if she would have that choice.
He started to speak, his black eyes glittering with things she refused to name. But then he shook his head, turned away, splashed water on his face and through his hair.
She stood to the side and watched him. It was painfully obvious that he wanted her to leave. She started to do just that, but suddenly she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him.
The well-developed muscles of his back rippled with his every movement, as did the ones on his stomach. Desire curled through her, adding one more bewildering emotion to her already heightened senses.
How many men actually had a six-pack at Jesse’s age? It wasn’t natural, wasn’t sane—it certainly wasn’t fair that he could make her want him this much without even trying. She wanted to rage at him until he’d given her an explanation for his bizarre behavior. But part of her was so happy, so grateful, that he was whole and well that she couldn’t help the sudden awareness of him that sprang to life inside of her.