Home on the Range

by Susan Fox

  When visiting hours ended, Jess walked out with Dave.

  “It’s really all right?” he asked. “With Evan?”

  “I think so. He doesn’t want to mess things up.”

  “He doesn’t want a mess himself, you mean.”

  “Maybe. But I honestly think he’s concerned about Robin’s best interests.”

  They had left the hospital and were walking toward her truck. “Jessie-girl, are you still in love with him?” His tone was sympathetic.

  Her shoulders sagged. “I guess. Seems to be my fate.”

  He put an arm around her. “Poor kid.”

  “It’s not that bad. At least now we’re friends.” Her words sounded hollow to her ears, and she guessed, from the way Dave squeezed her tight, he heard them the same way.

  “If you want to talk about it . . .”

  He was such a sweet man. “Thanks, Dave. I’d rather talk about my good news, though. I didn’t want Rob getting overexcited, but I’m busting to tell someone.” She filled him in on what she and Gianni were planning.

  Though he scowled at the idea of working with Evan, he gave her a big hug and kiss. “I’m so happy for you. And happy that I can help.”

  She drove home slowly, barely able to keep her eyes open. Once there, she forced down a few bites of dinner, not even knowing what she was eating. Then she ran a hot bath and climbed in, only to wake an hour later in cold water. Chilled despite the summer warmth coming through her bedroom window, she pulled on a pair of winter flannel pajamas.

  Last night it had been a cowboy hat and a naked body; tonight it was flannel jammies.

  Last night it had been Evan. She closed her eyes on that memory, hoping it would follow her into her dreams.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Evan woke on Saturday with a hangover for the first time in his life. The final dinner had indeed been a banquet, and the guests went through bottles and bottles of champagne and wine. He hadn’t bothered to say no when people offered to refill his glass.

  He’d been in a weird mood. Sometimes he felt a quiet pleasure at the week’s accomplishments and the new direction he planned to take in his life. Other times, he was depressed. He tried to drown his gloom with wine and not think about Robin, and an e-mail relationship with Jess.

  When he made it into the lodge on Saturday morning, his stomach churned at the smell of bacon and sausages. Kathy handed him a glass of a brown concoction. “Drain it,” she ordered, “before you talk to me.”

  A hangover cure? It tasted foul, but at least his stomach didn’t rebel.

  “I never drink too much,” he grumbled, annoyed at himself.

  “You’re not the only one who overdid it. You’ll feel better in a few minutes.”

  Her words were prophetic. In ten minutes, he was chowing down with the rest of the guests, blithely shoving slices of crisp-skinned sausage into his mouth.

  Last night, the talk had all been about the Crazy Horse holiday. Today, there was a distinct change in tone. Even in appearance. Hair that had gone uncombed was now carefully styled. Jeans had been replaced with traveling clothes. Conversation focused on flights and what was waiting back home. Work that would have piled up. Business issues that might or might not have been resolved.

  Evan thought of the pages of material Angelica had sent that he needed to go through on the plane. She’d sent only the most urgent stuff. There would be heaps of mail and hundreds of e-mails to deal with.

  Oh well, he had lunch with Gianni and Elena to look forward to tomorrow. They could swap Crazy Horse stories, talk about Jess, brainstorm ideas for the boot camp.

  And on Monday he’d make Angelica giggle when he described his first day on a horse. He had the photograph she’d requested, of him up on Rusty’s back.

  He was taking home several photos, including some with Jess in them. And two of Jess and Robin riding together. He now had three pictures of the daughter he’d never met.

  After breakfast, people lingered near the front door of the lodge. The Crazy Horse van was making two trips to Williams Lake, one for the morning flights and one for flights later in the day. Evan had left it so late to book, the only flight he’d managed to get was at four o’clock. He said his good-byes to those who were departing before him, and for the first time, business cards came out.

  “Don’t forget to send us news,” Kathy reminded them, “so we can put it in our quarterly newsletter.”

  When people still seemed predisposed to linger, Will said, “We’re leaving in half an hour, folks. If you haven’t finished packing, get a move on.”

  Guests hurried away, but Evan followed Kathy when she returned to the kitchen. “Got any of those horse treats left?”

  “Heading down to say good-bye to Rusty?”

  “And the others. Treats all around, if you please.”

  “Coming up.”

  He took an apple from the always stocked bowl while she assembled a plastic bag full of the round balls.

  She handed him the treats. “Here you go, horse lover.”

  He pondered the label as he walked down the hill to the fenced pasture. Never in a million years would he have considered himself a horse lover.

  Mickey and Raindance, the appaloosa Madisun rode, grazed near the fence, but he didn’t see Rusty. Mickey whickered as Evan went through the gate, a couple more horses emerged from the trees, and then Rusty trotted toward him.

  Soon he was surrounded by horses and he fed every one, handing out treats until the bag was empty. He stuffed it in his pocket and stroked noses, patted necks. Gradually the horses drifted away until it was just him and Rusty, who showed no inclination to leave.

  The horse put his head down, puffed air on Evan’s boots, then lifted his head again and gently butted Evan’s chest. Evan stroked his neck and fingercombed his coarse mane. The horse’s skin was warm in the sunshine, and so were Evan’s shoulders and the top of his head—bare today rather than topped with the cowboy hat he’d grown used to. The air smelled of clover and, more mildly, horseflesh. Just when, in the past two weeks, had the odor of horse become appealing? He breathed deeply, wishing he could hold this scent in his lungs to take back home with him.

  NYC. Exhaust fumes and imported cigars. The hustle-bustle of life in the fast lane. He loved New York. And yet . . . it was so peaceful standing here doing nothing but pat a horse.

  He remembered how restless he’d felt his first few days here. “You’ve taught me a lot,” he murmured to Rusty. “You and Jess.”

  The horse’s ear twitched.

  “I’ve learned how to relax, but I’ve also got a new sense of direction.”

  Rusty snorted gently.

  “You’re a good boy. Even if you did stomp on my foot the first day.” He smiled at the memory, and the recollection of Rusty blowing apple froth on him and Jess howling with laughter. He took the apple from his other pocket and held it out on his palm. “No tricks today,” he warned.

  It was only the second time he’d offered the horse an apple. Rusty took it neatly and politely.

  Every time he ate an apple, Evan would remember Rusty showering him with applesauce. He’d also remember apple pie cooked by Miriam Bly and shared around a kitchen table where people treated him like family.

  Warmth, affection. Fun.

  Jess, in her forthright way, had said it didn’t sound like he had much fun in New York. She was right. Yes, he dined with lovely women, went to parties, had drinks at clubs, and went to the theatre, but he’d had more out-and-out fun in these two weeks than in all the years in New York. He’d definitely have to make some changes when he got back.

  Back. Home. Manhattan. Traffic fumes, honking horns, designer food.

  Damn, he should be concentrating on the good things. The things he loved. A doppio and the New York Times all by himself in the morning. Wheeling and dealing across continents and time zones.

  Yes, he loved those things, but now he found himself thinking of Kathy’s hot chocolate and Miriam’s plain
Colombian coffee. Of helping Madisun and Jess achieve their dreams, and helping Wade and Miriam create a bit more financial security. Maybe even helping Brooke deal with the financial matters she found intimidating. Perhaps actually getting to know and like his mother.

  But mostly, he thought of Jess. Of her infectious laugh, her soulful brown eyes. Of her naked on top of him, with a sexy sparkle in her eye and a cowboy hat on her head.

  Rusty head-butted him and he resumed stroking the horse’s neck.

  He’d felt more love and passion with Jess than with any woman he had ever met. Or could ever imagine meeting.

  “I love her.” He spoke the words aloud, realizing as he said them that he really meant them. Meant them not just in a friendly fashion, but in the way Jess had talked about. That once-in-a-lifetime way.

  “My God, I’ve been a fool.”

  Rusty regarded him curiously. The horse’s head went up and down once.

  Evan laughed. “Yeah, you agree. Jesus . . .”

  Then he laughed louder. “I love Jess Bly. I’ve loved her since the day I met her, back when we were both seven. But I never realized . . . Oh hell, twenty years.”

  Suddenly, his knees were weak, and he leaned against Rusty for support. He’d thought he didn’t know what love was, but in fact it had been in his heart all along; he’d just been too scared to recognize it.

  He loved Jess the way she loved him.

  He’d loved her for twenty years, and he’d wasted the last ten of them. And he’d been prepared to waste even more. Been willing to toss her love away. All because he’d been stuck in childish patterns formed back when love had been a scary proposition.

  Yes, he was crazy about New York, but he could be crazy about Caribou Crossing, too; he was already more than halfway there. What he knew, finally, was that the true dream in his heart was Jess. Her and her horses and cowboy hats, her grubby fingers and manure-coated boots. Her generosity, her marshmallow heart. Her saucy breasts, her curvy butt, the whole damned package.

  Daughter and all.

  “Robin,” he murmured, for the first time tasting the name slowly and allowing himself to fully envision the girl. He could get to know Robin. Not only could he let himself love Jess, but he could love his own daughter.

  He wouldn’t have to dither around anymore about whether he should have kids, whether he’d be a good father. Robin existed, and he would, with Jess’s help, make her a fine stepfather. Maybe down the road, he and Jess would even have kids of their own. But first, there was Robin.

  The crunch of gravel broke into his thoughts. He turned to see the Crazy Horse van, heading for the airport. On impulse, he raised his arm, flagging Will down.

  “Talk to you later,” he said to Rusty, then vaulted over the fence. “Can I hitch a ride into town?”

  The back door opened and they let him inside. “Last-minute souvenir shopping?” Sandy asked.

  “Something like that.”

  Will drove to the airport first, with all the guests chattering excitedly while Evan nursed his own thoughts. He waited impatiently through another round of farewells at the airport. Perhaps picking up on his mood, Will was quiet as he drove into town and parked at the grocery store.

  “Thanks,” Evan said. “I’ll find my own way back.”

  Then, on legs that trembled, he walked the few blocks to the hospital. He didn’t know what he’d say, just that he needed to finally meet Robin Cousins.

  He got directions from the nurse at the front desk and found Robin’s room. Hoping Dave wasn’t there, he peeked around the door. The girl was alone, propped up on a heap of pillows, watching the TV that was suspended above her bed.

  He forced himself through the doorway before he had time to change his mind.

  She looked up. Big chocolate eyes like Jess’s. “Hi,” she said. “Looking for someone?”

  His daughter. She was his daughter. He had to clear his throat before he could get the words out. “You, actually.”

  “Me? But . . . Oh wait, I saw you at the Crazy Horse last Saturday. Right?” Her voice was strong, her manner confident. She did look a lot like her mother, but her personality made the familiar features into something unique.

  “Yes, I’ve been staying there.”

  She used the remote to click off the TV. “Isn’t it the greatest?”

  “It sure is. And I really enjoyed the show you and your mom put on. You’re a wonderful rider.”

  “I’ve been riding since before I could walk,” she said cockily.

  He chuckled. “Your mom used to say the exact same thing.”

  “She did? You know Mom? Oh wait, you’re the man who came over for dinner last week when I was at Dad’s.”

  “That’s me. I grew up here. With your mom. And your dad.” He forced the last word out.

  “Cool.” Was he imagining it, or did he see himself in the tilt of her jaw? “Where do you live now?”

  “New York City.”

  “Wow! That’s, like, so awesome! I absolutely have to go there one day.”

  He smiled, thinking of showing her and Jess his city. They’d ride horses in Central Park, go to the theatre, explore Greenwich Village, and stop at the Magnolia Bakery for cupcakes. There were things about New York both Jess and Robin would love, just as long as Jess knew they’d be coming home to Caribou Crossing afterward.

  He closed his eyes briefly. Was he being too confident? Jess had said she loved him. She’d asked him to stay. She would be happy, wouldn’t she?

  Or was this a dream she didn’t really want to come true? She might turn him down. He broke out in a cold sweat.

  “Hey, mister, are you okay?”

  He ran a shaky hand over his face and tried to smile. “I’m fine. How about you? I heard about your accident.”

  “I’m okay. Right now it hurts when I move. Well, it hurts even when I don’t move. But I’ll be back up on Concha soon.”

  If Jess did accept him, he’d have years of worrying about this girl. First she’d be the reckless tomboy, then the teenage heartbreaker. “I’m glad you’re going to be okay.”

  “So did you come here to see Mom?”

  “I came because I wanted to meet you.”

  “Cool. Hey, you haven’t told me your name.”

  “It’s Evan Kincaid.”

  “I’m Robin Cousins.” She held out her hand and he reached out, his own hand trembling, and for the first time touched his child. She had a firm grip, and he hated to let go of her small, warm hand. When he did, his palm was tingling and his eyes were damp.

  He had actually fathered this girl.

  From the hospital, he walked back to the center of town. He thought about stopping in to tell Brooke what he was planning, then decided it could wait. They’d have lots of opportunities to talk. He figured the new Brooke would be thrilled to welcome Jess and Robin into the family.

  Besides, he’d already begun resolving things with Brooke.

  It had occurred to him earlier, in Will’s van, that there were some things he needed to do to prove himself worthy of Jess. A few of them, he could already tick off. Like learning to ride, and to appreciate the country she loved. And reconciling with Brooke.

  That left two more things. One was meeting Robin. And the other issue involved one more person who was intrinsic to Jess’s life. And Robin’s.

  He squared his shoulders and walked into the Wild Rose Inn.

  The lobby was a classy version of rustic “cowboy” crossed with gold-miner days, and it worked nicely. Behind the desk, a middle-aged woman stopped clicking away on a computer keyboard and looked up with a welcoming smile.

  “I’m looking for Dave Cousins.”

  “In his office, down that hall, on your left.”

  He followed her instructions and stopped in the open doorway. “Dave?”

  The man looked up from his desk. “Evan,” he said warily.

  Evan squared his shoulders. “When we were kids, you offered me friendship and I was fool enough to turn
you down. Is the offer still open?”

  Dave had one of those faces that reveal emotion. Evan read his mistrust—and fear. The other man rose, walked quickly to the door, and closed it. “This is about Robin.”

  “Yes. And Jess.” He hadn’t been invited to sit, and he didn’t want to. Nor, it seemed, did Dave. The other man stood by the door, arms folded across his chest.

  “I love Jess,” Evan said. “I guess I always have. I think she loves me, too.”

  Dave closed his eyes, and when he opened them again his face had aged a decade. “She always has,” he said softly.

  In that moment, Evan respected him immensely. He knew Dave saw what was coming, yet he didn’t protest or deny.

  “I’m going to move to Caribou Crossing. I want to marry her, if she’ll have me.”

  Dave sucked in a breath and Evan hurried on. “We won’t tell Robin about . . . anything. I’ll be her stepfather. You’ll still be her father.”

  Dave ran a shaky hand over his jaw. “I appreciate that.”

  “You are her father. You raised her, loved her. I just want to be part of her life, too. We can work this out, Dave. It’ll be okay.”

  “Okay,” he echoed in a flat voice.

  Evan winced at his own choice of word. All this man had, since his fiancée died, was Robin and Jess. How could it be “okay” for Evan to interfere with that?

  “I love Jess,” he said again, as justification.

  “Yeah, I see that. And Jessie deserves . . . everything. She’s the best.”

  “I know. I can’t believe I was so stupid I didn’t realize it before.” He gave a nervous laugh. “I’m not even sure she’ll accept. I’ve been such a jerk, she may think I’m not worth the hassle.”

  A corner of Dave’s mouth lifted. “She’s not one to hold a grudge,” he said thoughtfully. “She might make you do some real fancy talking, but I’m guessing she’ll come round to seeing things your way. When are you going to ask her?”

  “I was thinking about tonight. I have this idea. . . .”

  “You always did plan things out in detail.” There was a hint of humor in the other man’s voice.