by R. C. Ryan
She shook her head. “I think I’ll go upstairs.”
“Okay.”
She watched as Jake led the way to the barn, with Cory following.
As she stepped from the mudroom to the kitchen, she was relieved to find it empty. She wasn’t in the mood for conversation. In fact, today’s events had left her in a strange, thoughtful mood.
She’d begun the day with a mixture of sadness and anger, both directed toward her father. Sadness at his dying, and anger at him for letting her down. In her mind he’d failed her as a father and the fierce protector she’d thought him to be.
The things she’d learned from Flora only added to her pain. If he was the kind, considerate neighbor Flora had described, how could he have been so unconcerned about his own daughter? It didn’t make any sense.
In her room she tossed the manila envelope on the desk without giving it another look. She wasn’t ready to tackle her father’s will yet. She would save it for another time.
She kicked off her high heels and stripped away the business suit and silk shirt, replacing them with boxer shorts and a clingy tank top. Barefoot, she opened the closet door and began methodically hanging her clothes.
Spying the unmarked cardboard box from her father’s closet, she picked it up and carried it across the room. Ignoring the desktop, she set it down in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows and their view of the sun setting over the distant Tetons.
She turned on all the lights in the room before sitting cross-legged in front of the box. She pried off the top and peered inside.
It was filled to the brim with envelopes.
Picking up the first, she was surprised to note that it was addressed to her in her father’s scrawl.
How was that possible? She’d never seen it before. The envelope was still sealed. She knew she’d never received a letter from her father. And then she saw, in her mother’s distinct script, the words Return to sender.
Meg read the date it had been mailed. 2005.
She began sifting through the rest, noting the dates. The deeper she dug into the pile, the earlier the dates, until she found the oldest ones dated the same year that she’d left Wyoming for Washington, D.C.
She tore open the oldest envelope and hungrily began to read the letter inside, addressed to My Dear Darling Little Meggy:
Now that you’re no longer here, all the light has gone out of my world. I can’t stand to do any of the things we used to do together. They just aren’t fun anymore. I’ll be counting the hours until you come back to visit…
Meg’s eyes filled and the words became a blur. The more she read, the more her eyes swam until she could no longer blink away the tears.
She hurried to the bathroom to fetch a box of tissues. Then, while she alternately wiped her eyes and tore open letter after letter, she sat on the floor and read a father’s heart-wrenching outpourings of love for the daughter he’d been denied.
Cory wrapped his arms around Shadow’s neck and buried his face in the colt’s soft, silky mane while Jake examined the wound.
The boy’s words were muffled. “You think he’s healing?”
“Yep. Healing nicely. The antibiotic is doing the job.”
“That’s good.” Cory looked over as Jake got to his feet. “Think I could spend the night out here again?”
“I don’t see why not. As long as you keep your cell phone handy.” Jake nodded toward the sleeping bag hanging over the side of the stall. “Need any help with that?”
“Naw. I can handle it.”
“Okay then.” Jake stepped from the stall and moved to the spot where a very pregnant golden Lab lay watching him.
He bent down and did a quick examination before running his hand over her head. “Those pups will be here soon, Honey. Very soon now.”
The Lab licked his hand, causing him to smile. “I know. The calm before the storm. Hang tough, Honey.”
At the door of the barn he turned to see Cory spreading his sleeping bag in Shadow’s stall. “’Night, Cory.”
“Yeah. ’Night.”
Outside, Jake latched the barn door. Before making his way to the house he plucked his cell phone from his pocket and called the bunkhouse to ask one of the wranglers, who would be making rounds of the outbuildings after dark, to keep an eye on Cory in the barn.
Satisfied that the boy would be safe, he turned toward the house. Seeing most of the windows dark in the upper rooms, he knew that the family had already retired for the night.
Time for him to do the same. It had been a strange day. But an enlightening one.
Like the rest of the folks in Paintbrush, he and his family had always thought of Porter Stanford as nothing more than a brash, unprincipled hothead. Flora’s revelations had caught him by complete surprise. But that was nothing compared with Meg’s reaction.
He’d seen the disbelief in her eyes, and the gradual pleasure as Flora had told them of Porter’s kindness to strangers. Jake sincerely hoped it helped ease some of the pain he’d seen in her eyes after leaving the cemetery, and later, the anger after leaving Kirby Bolton’s office. It could certainly go a long way toward softening her attitude about her father.
If he’d found the day strange, how much more emotional had it been for Meg and Cory? Though the boy and the woman had found ways of keeping their emotions under tight control, a day like this would be a staggering overload of highs and lows for anyone.
He was pretty certain the boy would sleep for hours after the emotional day he’d put in.
As Jake walked silently along the upper hallway he was surprised to see the light filtering out from beneath Meg’s door, signaling that she was still awake. He was about to walk on when he heard a sound that had him stopping in his tracks.
He backed up and listened outside her door.
Sobs. Unmistakable, hard, gut-wrenching sobs were coming from within Meg’s bedroom.
Though her grief was none of his business, he couldn’t simply walk away. Not when she was so alone and in obvious pain.
“Hey now.” Jake pushed open the door and stepped into the room.
Seeing Meg on the floor, surrounded by so much paper, stunned him into silence. This wasn’t at all what he’d expected to see. He’d imagined her lying facedown on her bed, or maybe pounding a fist on the wall.
When he found his voice, he waved a hand. “What’s all this?”
“Letters.” The word was little more than a strangled whisper.
“Whose letters?”
“Mine.” She started weeping again. “From…” Her lips quivered. “…my father.”
“I thought you never heard from him.”
“I didn’t.” She wadded a tissue in her hand and pressed it to her eyes. “Thanks to my mother.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Look.” She held up a fistful of envelopes.
Jake studied the handwriting, and then the very neat script directing them to be returned. He then stared pointedly at the box. “How long did this go on?”
“Apparently all the years I’ve been away. The early letters told me how much…” She had to stop and swallow before she could say, “…how much he loved and missed me.” Tears streamed from her eyes to run in rivers down her cheeks. “Oh, Jake. He never abandoned me. And he never gave up the hope that I’d come back. And I…broke his heart.”
“Shhh.” He dropped to his knees beside her and gathered her into his arms.
She crumpled against him, sobbing openly against his chest, until his shirt was soaked with her tears.
“How could she…?” The words were muffled against his chest. “How could a mother be so cruel?”
He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “You said she was angry. Hell hath no fury.”
“But this was wrong. So wrong.”
“Yes, it was. But now, finally, you know.”
“When it’s too late.” She pushed away from him, her eyes blazing. “He’s gone, Jake. My father’s gone, and I can’t ever g
et those years back. I can never get that love back.”
As the finality of it struck her, the anger rose up, threatening to choke her. “How I hate her for what she did. Because of her, I never really got to know my own father.”
“Hey now.” Jake reached out a hand to her but she drew back, her eyes flaring with white-hot fury.
He kept his tone low and even. “Maybe she thought you were too young and she would spare you from being a pawn in an ugly tug-of-war.”
“Too young? What right did she have to make my decisions for me? Did she think a kid had no rights? I’ll never forgive her for this, Jake. Never.”
She got to her feet and began to pace, the anger that was seething inside her propelling her to move. “I had the right to know my own father. To spend time with him. To laugh with him. To fight with him if I wanted to. To make my own decision about where I wanted to live. And because of her selfishness, I was denied a life that she knew I wanted more than anything. A life here in Wyoming with my father. And now…” She paused, looked out at the darkened outline of the mountains. “…now he’s gone and I can never get him back. I can never get back that life I wanted.”
Her own words had her eyes filling again. The tears ran down her cheeks, and this time she didn’t bother to wipe them away.
Jake stood by feeling helpless. It was obvious that she was exhausted. And so grief-stricken there was nothing he could possibly say that would give her comfort.
When her tears turned to hard, choking sobs, she flung herself into his arms. “Oh, Jake.”
He gathered her close and held her until the tears had run their course, then handed her his handkerchief.
After wiping her eyes she handed it back to him. Then, without a word, she wrapped her arms around his waist and touched her cheek to his. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Just…” She shrugged. “For listening. For being here. Today has been such an overload. The man I wanted to hate has turned into somebody I don’t even know. He sounds…broken. The woman I trusted has turned into someone who betrayed me. I’m so—” she gave another shrug of trembling shoulders “—lost. I can’t believe any of this. Today, I’ve learned so much about my father. All the truths as I’ve known them for most of my life have been turned on their heads. All of a sudden, I don’t know what or who to believe anymore.”
He took a step back and gently touched her face. “Give yourself some time, Meg. Don’t rush to judge either of your parents.”
When she opened her mouth to protest he pressed a finger to her lips. “Look, you said yourself you’re on overload. You’ve buried your father, and now in a sense you’ve resurrected him.”
He saw her eyes go wide with understanding. “I have resurrected him, haven’t I? I’ve learned so many new things about him today, thanks to Flora, and now, to all these letters. Thank heaven he saved them, or I’d have never known.”
“Exactly. So take things a day at a time until you’ve given yourself the chance to sort it all out.”
She dragged in a deep breath and lifted shining eyes to his. “When did you get so smart, Dr. Conway?”
He gave her one of those rogue smiles. “Aw, shucks, ma’am. Part of my job as a local vet is to dispense wisdom along with all those miracle drugs.”
She went very still. “What about aid and comfort?”
He was aware of the subtle change in her and fought to keep things light. “It comes with the territory.”
“That’s good to know.” She caressed his cheek. “I’m in need of your aid and comfort right now, Jake.”
There was no mistaking her meaning. She’d made herself perfectly clear. If her words weren’t enough, the look in her eyes, all soft and inviting, spoke volumes.
He absorbed the quick sexual jolt and kept his eyes steady on hers. “I’m all about aid and comfort, ma’am. But right now, you might want to think about getting some sleep. After the day you put in, you have to be exhausted.”
“Just the opposite.” Her hand curved around the back of his head, drawing him fractionally closer. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alert, more alive. Right now, right this minute, I’m feeling like…like I’m electrically charged.”
“Yeah.” His heart jolted. “I know that feeling.”
He lowered his head at the same moment that she lifted hers. Their mouths met in a kiss so hot, so hungry, it caught them both by surprise.
Sparks flew between them, causing even the air in the room to feel superheated.
His hands were in her hair as he backed her against the wall and kissed her long and slow and deep.
With their bodies pressed firmly, their mouths hungry and demanding, the kiss spun on and on. Their sighs turned into little moans of pleasure. Their breathing became labored. Their greedy hands and mouths moved on one another, avid, eager. Taking. Giving.
Dazed, and almost blind with need, their bodies straining and grinding in open invitation, they edged closer to the bed, eager to feed the hunger that was driving them, just as Meg’s door was unceremoniously thrown open and a voice jittery with nerves called, “Jake.”
Two heads came up sharply. Two figures, still wrapped around one another, froze at the sight of Cory standing in the doorway, so out of breath he could barely get the words out over his heaving chest.
“Jake. Hurry. Something’s wrong with Honey.”
“Wrong?” Jake continued holding onto Meg’s shoulders, afraid to let go for fear of stumbling like a drunk.
“She’s making weird noises and panting really hard. I think maybe she’s dying. You’ve got to come, Jake.”
Jake sucked in a long, deep breath, struggling to clear his befuddled mind. Very carefully he lowered his arms to his sides and took a step away from Meg, who was staring at Cory as though he were completely addled.
Despite his frustration at this turn of events, Jake managed a weak smile as the light dawned.
“It’s okay, Cory. Honey’s not dying. Looks like her time has finally come. She’s about to have her puppies.” He closed a hand over Meg’s shoulder and squeezed, feeling all the tension that was still spiraling through her. “You’ll never know how sorry I am, but it looks like I’m needed in the barn.”
With a last, lingering look at her pouting lips, he turned and followed the boy from the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Chapter Sixteen
I went to your room first,” Cory said with a hint of accusation. “When I didn’t find you there, I got really scared. I thought maybe you were off to someone’s ranch because of an emergency. You know. To doctor somebody else’s animals. Then I heard your voice in Meg’s room.”
How much had the kid seen? And how much did he understand? Jake struggled to remember how much he’d known when he was seven. Not a whole lot, especially when it came to men and women.
“Yeah. Sorry.” And he meant it. But not the way it sounded. Even now, racing toward the barn, Jake’s heart was still back there with Meg. He was damned sorry about the timing of this emergency.
She’d been amazing.
They’d come so close. A step away from paradise.
He shook off his frustration. No sense mourning his loss now. Reality had reared its head, and he had no choice but to deal with it.
“I think you’re wrong about Honey.” Cory’s legs were pumping as he sprinted toward the barn, with Jake lengthening his strides to keep up. “She was panting really, really hard. Like she was getting ready to climb out of her pen and take off running as far as she could. I latched the door so she couldn’t get loose.”
“That was smart. But trust me.” Jake reached around the boy to pull open the barn door and throw on a series of overhead lights. “The sounds you heard are all normal when a mother is about to give birth.”
As they raced toward the dog’s pen they were greeted by a chorus of faint squeaks and tiny yips.
Honey lay contentedly licking six small bundles of pale fluff that were stumbling blindly a
round her.
At the sight of them, Cory stopped dead in his tracks.
Beside him, Jake bent down to run his hand along the new mother’s head and across her back. “Well, just look at what you’ve done. All by yourself, without a bit of help.”
At the sound of his voice Honey looked up at him before returning her attention to her babies.
Meg charged headlong into the barn, still buttoning the plaid shirt over her tank top; she hadn’t bothered to tuck it into the denims she’d pulled on over her boxers.
Seeing Cory and Jake kneeling on either side of the dog’s pen, she came to a halt and dropped to her knees beside Cory. Then all she could do was stare in delight and absolute amazement at the sight of Honey and her pups. “Oh, look at them,” she cooed.
Caught up in the moment, she hugged Cory fiercely, saying against his cheek, “Oh, aren’t they just the sweetest things?”
The boy turned startled eyes to her. At once she lowered her arm, allowing him to draw away.
“How about their proud mama?” Jake was watching Meg and Cory while petting Honey’s head. “Six babies, all born in record time, and all of them perfect.”
As Honey continued licking her newborns, they were finding their way to her side, where they hungrily began feasting.
One tiny pup seemed stymied by a small dip in the blanket beneath them. Each time he tried to climb over the gap, he flopped onto his back. After wriggling around and around, he righted himself and struggled to climb over it again, only to flip backward yet again.
His antics had the three of them laughing until Jake took pity on the poor little thing, lifting him up and placing him beside his mother.
Honey licked the puppy before closing her eyes and stretching out, allowing all six puppies to nurse.
Jake pulled out his cell phone and snapped several pictures. With a glance at Meg and Cory he explained, “I think Randy deserves a chance to see what he’s missing.”
“When will he be home?” Cory asked.
“Not for another week. By then, these babies will be running their poor mama ragged,” Jake said with a laugh.
A minute later he heard the beep signaling a text, and read aloud the message from Randy Morton: “‘Good for Honey. What a trooper. Wish I could be there. Thanks for standing in for me.’”