by Susan Fox
He hurried to the lodge at the crack of dawn, wanting to make a call before the others began to assemble.
“Evan,” Cynthia answered. “Are you at the airport, darling? Good God, it must be the middle of the night there.”
“There’s been a small setback. I’m going to have to stay another day.”
“What’s wrong? Is your old friend still holding out on you?” Did he detect an edge to her voice when she said “old friend”? Was Cynthia’s patience wearing thin?
“Well . . . Actually, we have talked a bit about her plans. I had dinner at her place last night and—”
“Sounds cozy.” Now the edge was sharp enough to cut glass.
“It’s not what you’re thinking. She lives with her parents. They’re old friends, too.”
“She’s still with her parents? A grown woman? How quaint.”
He frowned. “Her father had a stroke and she helps run the family ranch. And her parents help with her daughter, which is a far better arrangement than some anonymous after-school care facility.”
Cynthia didn’t reply for a moment, and Evan realized his comment could be taken as a criticism of her preferred method of child rearing. It was a discussion they needed to have, but in person. He stifled a groan. Now he had two women mad at him.
“Daughter?” Cynthia sounded more pleased, probably figuring he wouldn’t be interested in a woman with a child. “You didn’t mention she had a child. Where’s the father?”
“They split up, though they’re still friends.”
“Hmm. So you had dinner with the family at the ranch. . . .”
“Yes, though Robin, the daughter, wasn’t there. I’ll meet her today.” That was another benefit to staying—assuming by then he’d made up enough with Jess that she’d introduce him to the girl.
“Another meal with the family?” she asked grimly.
“No, it’s one of the Crazy Horse activities. Jess and her daughter are putting on a cowgirl display. Roping and barrel racing. It should be fun. And this morning, since I’m staying, I’ll go on the breakfast ride.”
“Breakfast ride? And will that be fun, too?” Her voice had lost some of its grimness and she sounded genuinely curious.
“Yeah, actually I’m kind of glad I’m staying for it,” he confessed. “The guests are interesting people, and the scenery is terrific. Jess assigned me this funny-looking strawberry roan called Rusty, and he’s turned out to be great. I’ve even learned to saddle and bridle and groom him. Lord, Cynthia, you ought to see me wield a hoof pick.”
“Hoof pick,” she echoed disbelievingly.
“Yeah, it’s a curved metal tool for cleaning the gunk out of a horse’s hooves. To prevent infection.” Suddenly self-conscious, he gave a strained laugh. “I’m boring you.”
“Actually, it’s very educational. But Evan, you still haven’t said why you’re staying another day. I gather it’s not just so you can participate in this breakfast ride, and see the cowgirls barrel race.”
“Oh, I omitted the important part. I told Jess that Gianni had sent me, and she told me to get lost.”
There was a lengthy silence, then, “You broke your promise to Gianni. And, because Jess told you to get lost, you decided you have to stay.”
He realized that their last couple of calls had been so rushed he hadn’t filled her in on the latest development. “No, I cleared it with Gianni first. I told him that I was uncomfortable deceiving an old friend, and that I could make a better assessment if I was honest with Jess so she and I could discuss her plans openly.”
“Discuss her plans openly? After she told you to get lost?”
That was an excellent point. “Guess I’ll find out. In the old days, she didn’t hold a grudge. She reacted quickly, emotionally, then she’d get over it.”
“Hmm. So the bottom line is, you’re planning to fly home tomorrow?”
“Yes, definitely.” Or at least hopefully.
“I see.”
“The flight won’t arrive in time for dinner, though. Sorry.”
“Take however long you need.” Her voice held no inflection.
“I said I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Call me when you get in.” And she hung up. No good-bye. And he realized that, since she’d first greeted him, she hadn’t called him “darling” again.
Things would be fine once he got home, he told himself. He’d make her understand. But his first task was to get through to Jess.
Outside the window, the sky was beginning to lighten, and he heard voices as other guests approached the lodge. They all collected blueberry muffins and cardboard cups of coffee, then, eating and drinking as they went, trooped down to the barn. The guests, so clean and pressed on Monday morning, so antsy and on their best behavior, were now disheveled and casual. His own clothes were clean, but he hadn’t bothered to use the iron in his cabin. Others had stained jeans, sunburned noses, and hair combed any which way, often topped by a cowboy hat. Ponytails had become popular among those—including Aaron—with hair long enough to tie back.
As he approached the barnyard, he looked around for the only ponytail that interested him. When Jess emerged from the barn, his heart thumped with pleasure and anxiety. He hurried over and urged her back inside.
“You’re here!” Her face, tired-looking around the eyes, showed amazement and . . . was that pleasure? Whatever the expression, it was quickly replaced by a scowl. “I thought you’d be on your way home.”
“I couldn’t go. Not until we cleared the air.”
“I’ve been up half the night—” she began.
“Me, too,” he broke in. “Jess, I’m really sorry. I never wanted to deceive you, and I feel rotten. We’re friends. We shouldn’t keep secrets.”
Her face went still, almost guarded. “It hurt. I felt betrayed.” She spoke slowly, as if she was choosing her words carefully. “But I know that people keep secrets sometimes, thinking there’s a good reason.”
Relieved that she could understand this, he pled his case. “Gianni put me in an untenable position. He’s my client and he’s paying for this trip. He didn’t want me to tell you because—”
He broke off as Aaron and Sylvia came into the barn and said good morning. When they had gathered their tack and gone out, he began again. “This isn’t a typical investment.” For the first time, he truly understood what Gianni meant. “What you said last night is true. Gianni and Elena would likely make more money from some other investment. He’s savvy enough to know that. But those investments are impersonal. This one would be personal, fun; they’d have a place to visit where they could see the horses. They’d feel a part of the whole thing.”
He was speaking quickly, putting it all together. “That’s why Gianni told me I had to come in person, soak up the ambiance. He wanted me to understand everything this investment represents to him, not just a bunch of figures on paper.”
“That doesn’t explain why you couldn’t be up front with me,” she said implacably.
“The boot camp would depend so much on you. How you are with people, with horses. Your vision and your personality are key to success. Gianni wanted me to see you being natural, not trying to impress me.”
She gave a wry laugh. “Guess you got what you came for then. I sure didn’t do much to impress you.”
More people were coming into the barn, picking up saddles and bridles. He lowered his voice. “That’s not true. I’m very impressed. By you.” Impressed, attracted, and confused. “As for your camp, we need to talk some more about that, to see if it’s really feasible.” At the moment, he didn’t think it was, but with some hard work she might develop a realistic business plan. If she wanted this badly enough, and didn’t merely enjoy playing with a new dream, he could help her get organized.
“You’re impressed by me?”
“Yes, Jess. And I want to be your friend.” Though his feelings for her made him uncomfortable, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her a second time. “Can you forg
ive me? I never wanted to hurt you.”
“I want to believe that.”
He could see that in her expressive chocolate eyes. “Come on, Jess.” Trading on old knowledge, he said, “You know you’re rotten at holding a grudge.”
She gave a small, rather sad, grin. “We know each other too well. Even after all these years.”
“Some things don’t change.”
She ducked her head, then lifted it again, and he saw she was no longer smiling. “And some do. We’re different people now. You’ve made your success, and I’ve yet to make mine. I don’t think Gianni Vitale is the right route for me.”
“He still might be if you put some more work into your proposal. Last night, I said I was willing to help you. I mean that.”
She tilted her head higher. “Evan, I do have some pride. I don’t want your help.” She turned and walked across the barn toward the open door.
“Jess?”
She froze in the doorway, then after a moment looked over her shoulder at him.
“Can we still be friends?” He held her gaze, letting his eyes tell her how much that meant to him.
Her lips quivered, then she said quietly, “I guess time will tell,” and headed out into the barnyard.
Evan sighed, but tried to be optimistic. Horses and open country would sweeten her mood. She’d think through what he said and find it in her heart to forgive him.
He went through the now-familiar steps of getting Rusty ready, then swung into line behind Sandy. Early morning light stretched pale fingers through the treetops as they started out.
After half an hour, the horses emerged from the woods and clustered around Jess, who’d stopped Knight. She sat tall and straight in the saddle, her body flexing as Knight shifted restlessly from foot to foot. Behind her, green hills rolled into the distance, kissed by the morning sun. He froze the picture in his mind, to hold on to when he was back in the city.
She swept her arm toward the hills. “This is perfect for galloping, but I’ll guess not all of you are comfortable with belting off into the wide open spaces.”
“What if Mickey runs away?” Joan asked anxiously.
Damn, Evan thought. He wanted to gallop Rusty down the middle of those gentle hills and feel the wind rush past them.
“We’re going to split into two groups,” Jess said.
“Madisun’s will skirt the meadows and take a lovely trail through an aspen grove. You’ll do some trotting and a couple of nice long canters, but in line along a trail just like we’ve been doing all week. If you’re good, Madisun will let you dismount and pick berries. There’s absolutely no flavor in the world like sun-warmed wild strawberries.”
“That’s for me,” Joan said, and a few others agreed.
“And your group, Jess?” Aaron asked eagerly.
“We’ll gallop across the meadows. You won’t have to ride single file, but stay away from the area over there.” She waved an arm to the left. “There are gopher holes.”
She studied the guests from under the brim of her Resistol hat, her gaze pinning one, then the next. “No racing. No passing me. Hold on to the horn if you want, but always keep a firm grip on the reins. If your horse is going faster than you’re comfortable with, pull back on the reins, shift your weight back in the saddle, and say ‘whoa.’ The horse will obey.
“If you feel at all scared of galloping, don’t do it. This isn’t a competition. It’s about having fun and being safe. Not about getting the shazam scared out of you.”
The guests chuckled, but Jess didn’t. “Understand?” she asked, and waited until she’d gotten nods from everyone.
“Okay.” Her smile flashed white against her tanned skin. “Madisun, gather your group. We’ll wait until you head out.”
Evan didn’t feel scared. Excited, yes, and a touch nervous, but definitely not scared. He was going with Jess’s group. So, he found out, were Thérèse, George, Sandy, and Aaron.
Jess studied Evan for a moment, then grinned. “Why am I not surprised, city boy?”
In that moment he sensed she was on the road to forgiving him. With a huge sense of relief, he grinned back.
She gave a few final words of instruction, then aimed Knight up the meadow and took off like an arrow out of a bow. The five who’d been left behind gaped at each other, then Evan touched his heels to Rusty’s sides and soon they were flying in her wake.
By now he knew Rusty’s gait. They were going faster than ever before, but he realized there was nothing to fear. He heard someone whoop and glanced to his right, where Aaron was belting along, ponytail flying just like Rambler’s tail, smile wide enough to split his face. Evan laughed with sheer joy, and soon all five of Jess’s charges were whooping and hollering.
She grinned over her shoulder. Her hat had come off and bounced on her shoulders, and tendrils of chestnut hair whipped free from her ponytail. Evan urged Rusty on, coming up beside Knight. “This is great!” he shouted into the wind. And the very best part was sharing this with her and seeing the pleasure on her pretty face.
“Told you so!” she yelled back. Then she glanced down at his hands and whooped. “Look, Ma, no hands!”
He hadn’t even thought to grab the horn. Instead his posture mirrored hers, one hand holding both reins, the other resting on a thigh. His body had learned to synchronize with Rusty’s rhythm and he didn’t need the horn for balance.
When Jess slowed Knight, the others pulled up abreast. Evan, still beside her, said quietly, “I should have tried this years ago. I missed so much.”
“You might’ve done it if I hadn’t made you believe you were a klutz.”
“I didn’t have to believe you. Let’s let bygones be bygones.” All of them.
She gave him a crooked smile, indicating she knew exactly what he meant. “Sure. Why not?” In a quick motion, she pulled off the Resistol that hung on her shoulders and handed it over. “Time you got yourself one of these, cowboy, but for now you can borrow mine.”
Evan might never have been a hat guy, but he slid this one on his head with pride, like he’d earned a gold star from his favorite teacher. He was beaming as Jess motioned everyone back into single file, then led them into the woods. A few minutes later, the trees thinned, giving way to a cluster of sweet-scented wild rosebushes, and the riders emerged beside a small lake. It wasn’t Zephyr Lake, but it looked similar enough that it gave him a twinge.
Jess turned in her saddle and waved an arm toward the lake. “See the beaver lodge?”
He gazed at the mess of branches, noting that the small trees in the surrounding area had been cut into stumps with roughly pointed ends, like crudely sharpened pencils. He found himself wondering where the beavers were. What was their lodge like underwater? Were there young ones? He’d never seen a beaver lodge before. Why had he been such a closed-minded kid?
“The tepee!” Thérèse cried, and Evan turned to see where she was pointing. Across the lake, near the shore of a tiny bay, was their sing-along tepee.
If Brooke hadn’t prejudiced him against the country, might he have grown up singing goofy songs, riding a horse, maybe picking wild roses to give to Jess?
“Everyone ready for another gallop?” Jess called, and his negative thoughts whisked away on the breeze Rusty created as they took off. The five horses pelted in single file along a trail by the lake. When they slowed to a trot, then to a walk again, Evan leaned down to stroke Rusty’s neck and murmur words of appreciation. What a fine way to spend a morning.
Jess stopped Knight at the end of the lake and slipped from his back. “Madisun’s group isn’t the only one that’s got wild strawberries.”
Evan slid down and peered at the ground, seeing scraggly tufts of grass, reddish tendrils that snaked out from patches of green leaves, and here and there tiny red berries. He knelt with the others and picked a couple of the red beads, trying not to care how grubby his hands were. When he crushed the berries between his teeth, flavor exploded in his mouth, sweet and intense. With th
e flavor came a memory.
Jess had fed him wild strawberries at Zephyr Lake.
He glanced over to where she was hunkered down, popping berries into her mouth.
And he realized something. He’d always avoided thinking of that night. Whenever his mind had ventured near, he’d been overcome with guilt. But in truth there had been positive aspects. Jess had been his loving friend and she’d shared herself with him on a level no one else had ever done, before or since.
Yes, Evan had felt he was betraying their friendship. Yes, he’d behaved in an utterly despicable fashion. But there had been good things. He should remember them, too, and let Jess know he appreciated the gift she’d given him.
She glanced up and caught him staring at her. “What?”
He realized he was smiling. “It’ll keep.”
She looked puzzled, but shrugged, and said, “Okay,” and went back to the berries.
It didn’t take the six of them long to demolish all the ripe berries in the small patch. They mounted again, and soon were urging the horses along a steep trail that zigzagged up a sizable hill. Jess reminded them to lean forward, taking their weight off the horses’ hindquarters. Evan patted Rusty’s neck as the horse doggedly plodded uphill, head down. “Thanks, pal. I’d never make it up here on my own.”
When they arrived at the top, they found that Madisun’s group had beaten them. Horses grazed contentedly while the guests clustered around a campfire tended by Will. The enticing aromas of bacon and coffee drifted through the fresh morning air.
“Loosen off the cinches,” Jess instructed. “Untie the reins and drop them. The horses won’t go anywhere.”
Evan gave Rusty a farewell pat on the rump before heading over to a rocky outcropping to check out the view. He whistled as he saw the panorama spread beneath him. The wooded land, serene under morning sunshine, was dotted with gleaming lakes, ribbons of road, and the occasional building.
He remembered how, when he’d first arrived in New York City, he’d gone up the Empire State Building and been blown away by the view. This one was so different, but equally spectacular.