The deluxe package included a private flight with a picnic lunch of bread, cheese, fruit and champagne. Neither of them had eaten much for lunch. After paying for the package by credit card, she turned to find Rafe staring at the balloons, as if half expecting them to fall over.
“You pick,” she said, indicating the balloons. Four equally striking ones stood waiting for customers.
His grin told her he was starting to warm up to the idea. “This is a hijacking, you know that, don’t you?”
“Absolutely.” She threaded her arm playfully into his. “Everyone needs to be hijacked now and then, just to keep things in perspective.”
He shook his head. “Perspective, huh? I kinda like the perspective from down here on the ground.”
“Chicken,” she taunted. “Bwawk-bwaawk-bwaaawk—”
Rafe’s eyes darkened at the challenge. “Chicken, huh?”
She tucked her hands under her armpits and flapped them, backing toward the balloons. “Bwaaawk-bwaaawk—”
“Oh, you’re gonna regret that, Jamison,” he warned starting toward her.
“Bwaaawk! Bwawk!!” Shrieking with laughter, she hobbled toward the balloons. He chased her down and wrestled her into his arms until she was completely helpless and flat up against him.
Their laughter faded slowly as Rafe’s gaze traveled over her face with a smile like she hadn’t seen on him in years. “Okay,” he said, his mouth only inches away from hers. “I pick the cardinal.”
She glanced up at the bird-shaped balloon behind them. “Good choice, cowboy. Any particular reason?”
“Yeah,” he murmured. “You look great in red.”
It was so much more than she’d expected. The exhilarating feeling of floating, unfettered by the confinement of a plane. They stood together, staring over the precipice of the rich woven basket that held them, listening to the intermittent hiss of the flame burner as they lifted into the sky. The air was cool and smelled sharply of the pines that lined the hillsides below.
The earth seemed to slip away as they rose steadily upward. Like a patchwork of green and brown and lavender, the landscape spread out below them, but everything lost its distinctness. It all seemed to flow together—the rocks, the grass, the hills—as if no one thing were more important than the rest.
A red-tailed hawk sailed near them in lazy circles against the impossibly blue sky. As the pilot quieted the flame burner, she and Rafe watched the majestic bird in awed silence.
They floated to the east, tumbling past the Durango and Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad, where the steel tracks etched a path across the foothills and disappeared into the mountains.
Rafe pointed east to the sprawling range tucked under the San Juans. “There’s my place.” His words were low and filled with pride, yet tinged by sadness. They both knew how perilously close he was to losing it.
“It’s so beautiful, Rafe. I can see why you love it here.” She threaded her fingers through his and, to her surprise, he allowed her touch. “It’ll work out. You’ll see.”
“You have more faith than I do,” he said, surveying his cattle, which dotted the landscape below.
“How’s it going with Red-Eye?” she asked, broaching the forbidden topic.
Surprised, he grinned and rolled a stiff shoulder. “I’m wearin’ him down. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
She didn’t want to think about what riding in the rodeo might do to him, or how a serious injury could steal him away for good this time. Perhaps she was just being overprotective. He was a grown man, after all. He knew what he wanted. But it was about more than the two of them now. Evan needed a father. More than that, he needed Rafe.
For a long time, they stood gazing at the world below from a hawk’s vantage point. A companionable silence stretched between them. What they were sharing required no words.
“Hey, folks—” the pilot called from behind them. As one, they turned toward him, hands still linked, lazy smiles still lingering on their mouths. The pilot snapped a Polaroid of them against the backdrop of the cobalt sky, then handed it to them. “A little memento of the afternoon.”
Together, Rafe and Carly watched as the photo swam into focus on the film. When it did, what they saw sent a ripple of awareness through them both. For there, unburdened for that millisecond by the future or the past or the gnawing reality that awaited them back on the ground, they looked... happy.
With his head tucked under the truck’s hood, Gus stood fiddling with Rafe’s starter, alternately revving the engine and cursing under his breath. Carly walked toward the truck, enjoying the feel of the morning sun as she composed her thoughts.
Rafe and Evan had left an hour ago on horseback, with a pair of fishing poles tied to their saddles. Rafe knew as well as Carly that their time was growing short. He had needed an excuse to spend time with Evan, and she had welcomed it. She had something to do this morning, and she needed time alone to do it.
“Hi, Gus,” she called. Gus straightened in surprise, and whacked his head on the truck’s hood.
“Ow!” he grumbled, rubbing the spot with his hand. He frowned at the offending metal. “Confound it!”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, reaching the truck and handing him the glass of lemonade she’d made for him. “You okay?”
“I’d be more okay if I could make this danged starter work the way it’s supposed to. I guess it’s gonna need a new one.”
As she offered him the lemonade, his gaze traveled over the smart-looking navy business suit she’d put on this morning. Wariness crept into his eyes. “Goin’ someplace?”
“If I can beg a favor,” she said hopefully. “I need wheels.”
“Sure. I got my car. Gotta go to the parts store, anyway. Where to?”
“Not too far. But...” She hesitated.
“But what?” Gus asked with a curious frown.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to keep my destination a secret for now.” She bit her lower lip. “I don’t want Rafe to know until—”
“Until—?” He rubbed his stubbled chin and narrowed his eyes.
“Later.”
“Why do I get the feelin’ you’re up to somethin’?”
“Probably because...I am?” she suggested with a guilty lift of her eyebrows.
“Oh-oh.”
“I know, I know.” She squeezed her eyes shut. She’d agonized over this for days now, and with her decision made, she had to go through with it before she lost her nerve. “Promise me, Gus?”
Gus sighed with resignation. “Why don’t you tell me what you’ve got in mind while I get my keys?”
Gus was quiet when she’d finished. Thoughtful. He heaved a long sigh and shook his head. “You’re sure you wanna do this? We both know how he’s gonna react.”
“I know.” And it wasn’t going to be pretty.
“Not that I’m tryin’ to talk you out of it, mind you...” Gus said, visibly torn.
“I know. And it’s too late, anyway. I’ve made up my mind. I’ve gone over all the pros and cons. I know what I’m doing. But I owe him, Gus, and more importantly, I love him. And, frankly, I can’t think of a better reason than that.”
Gus swallowed visibly, emotion swimming in his eyes. “Neither can I, missy,” he said flatly. “Neither can I.”
Rafe held Evan’s wrist in one hand and Evan’s fingers on the thick fly line in the other, sweeping the rod forward and back, forward and back, in the three-stroke rhythm of fly fishing. In one easy motion, they pitched the line forward, and Rafe whispered, “Now!”
Evan released the line and watched it sail out over the wide creek pool. The fly landed with a satisfying pop on the water. A smile lit his eyes. “I did it!”
“You sure did, pard,” Rafe told him, standing back proudly. “That was exactly it. Timing was perfect.”
Evan grinned, wide-eyed with pride, and watched his fly drift lazily downstream. “Think we’ll catch anything?”
“This is a
good pool,” Rafe told him, sending his own line sailing over the water. “I rarely walk away empty-handed. But you’ve got to be prepared. Sometimes the fish just aren’t in the mood to get caught. That’s it, now reel it in and send it out over the water again. You don’t want things getting stagnant.”
“What’s stagnant?” Evan asked, spinning his line in.
Rafe stared out over the water. My life before you came, he thought. But he said, “It’s when things get too quiet, and the water’s too still. Trout like their breakfast moving.”
Evan giggled. “Rafe?”
“Hmm?”
“This is better than ocean fishing.”
“Yeah? I’ve never been ocean fishing,” he said.
Evan tilted his head in thought. “It’s kinda...stagnant.”
Rafe grinned and reached out to ruffle his hair. Macky, who was lying beside Evan, leaped up to chase after a passing butterfly. Evan giggled and watched him disappear into a thicket of bushes.
“Hey,” Rafe said, “you hungry? Your mom packed us some sandwiches...candy bars...apples...”
Evan sent his line sailing halfway as far as Rafe’s. “Nah. I wanna catch a fish. Hey, Rafe?”
“Yeah?”
“Can we do this again sometime?”
“You bet.” Rafe regarded his boy standing in the morning sun. Evan’s hair shone, and his freckles seemed to have multiplied in geometric proportion since he arrived. He even looked as if he’d grown. Such a short time. Rafe wondered what he’d look like the next time he saw him, and how much of his life he would have missed by then.
Rafe’s heart gave a twist, and he focused on sending his line back out.
“Mom says we’re leaving soon,” Evan said, trying to sound casual.
Forward, back. Forward, back. “That’s what I hear.”
A long silence stretched between them. Finally, Evan said quietly, “I don’t wanna go. I wanna stay here.”
Rafe’s fly faltered halfway through its cast and plopped sadly into the water. He looked at his son. “I wish you could.”
“Why can’t I? Can’t you and my mom make up?”
If it were only that easy. “We’re not fighting, Evan,” Rafe said, shrugging the tension out of one shoulder.
“Then how come you act so funny with each other?” Evan asked. “Like the way she looks at you when you’re not looking and then looks away really fast. And when you and her get near each other, you try not to bump into her or anything, like you’re scared of touching her. Are you? ’Cause her broken leg isn’t contagious or anything.”
Rafe stifled a laugh and focused on the fly skipping across the water. He attributed his ignorance about the inherent intuitiveness of children to his lack of direct experience with them. But even that couldn’t account for Evan’s handle on the body language that was apparently doing their talking for them.
“When you’re older, maybe you’ll understand this better,” he said carefully, although twenty-some years hadn’t yet earned him insight. “Your mom and I...we...well, we want what’s best for you. And what’s probably best for you is to go to Ohio with your mom, where there are lots of kids and a great school. And your mom said she was going to get you a dog.”
At that moment, Macky came bounding back out of the bushes, tongue lolling with exuberance as he nosed his silky head beneath Evan’s hand for a rub.
“I don’t want another dog,” Evan told Rafe firmly. “I just want Macky.”
Rafe had no answer for that. He watched the boy and the dog, knowing Macky would be just as lost as Evan when the boy left. Rafe tossed his line back out and stared at the sun glinting on the water. “You could take him.”
“What?” Evan’s head swiveled toward Rafe in surprise.
“You could take Macky with you, if you want.”
“But...but he’s your dog.”
Macky’s goofy expression slid expectantly back and forth between the two of them, as if he knew he was being talked about. “He’s crazy about you, Ev. Hardly leaves your side.”
Evan gazed at the water thoughtfully. Finally, he looked back at Rafe. “He’d miss it here, wouldn’t he? If he went, I mean.”
Rafe didn’t reply, just reeled in his line.
Evan looked out over the vast countryside surrounding the stream. “He’s used to running around here with all this space. Chasin’ birds and stuff. He wouldn’t like living in an apartment.” His fingers disappeared in Macky’s thick fur. “No, I have to come visit him, is all.”
Rafe swallowed thickly—around the lump that had formed in his throat. “He’ll be right here waiting for you. So will L We’ll see you again real soon.”
“Promise?” The boy’s eyes entreated him.
“I promise, Evan. I’ll make it happen.”
“Rafe?”
He swallowed thickly. “Yeah?”
His fly drifted downstream, unheeded. “You won’t forget, will you?”
Their eyes met and held over their fly rods. “Never,” Rafe swore. “I’ll never forget, Evan.”
Rafe slid the sizzling pan-fried trout out of the skillet onto Carly’s plate.
“I want you to know,” she said, staring at the perfectly cooked fish, “I’m wildly impressed. I thought you said you couldn’t cook.”
“I can’t. Except trout. When the streams are really running, either you end up with a freezer full of fish, or you learn to make it edible. Or,” he said with a grin at Laurie who was passing the fried potatoes to Jake, “you make trout pâté.”
The boys made retching noises and broke into a fit of giggles.
“I’ll have you know,” Laurie said briskly, “my trout pâté was the sensation of Jefferson Cader’s end-of-the-season party up at Purgatory, just last week.”
Jake leaned over to Evan. “Yeah, but what kind of a sensation was it?”
“I heard that,” Laurie said, slapping an overly generous portion of potatoes onto Jake’s plate. “Hmm. I guess that means none of you boys wants the crumble-top apple pie I baked specially for tonight, either.”
“Yes, we do!” the three boys chorused.
“Ah,” Laurie said with a satisfied smile. “Then, no dissing the cook.”
“Yeah,” Rafe agreed, sitting down between Carly and Evan. “I second that.” Elbows touching, he and Carly glanced at one another and flickered a smile. She’d seemed nervous as a cat all night, Rafe thought. He supposed it was because of the two first-class airline tickets that had come for her today by express mail. He’d seen them lying on her bed, though she hadn’t mentioned them.
Wide-eyed, Jordan gulped. “I think...I swallowed a bone.”
“A big one?” Laurie asked with concern.
He shook his head, holding his throat. “A little one.”
Tearing off a piece of bread, she handed it to him. “Eat this and—chew more carefully.” When he seemed better, she turned to Carly. “Dad says you two went to town today. Shopping spree?”
Carly flushed deeply, glancing at Rafe, who was suddenly looking at her. “Uh, no. I—We—”
“Had a couple errands,” Gus put in, clearing his throat. He stabbed at his fish and avoided Rafe’s look.
“Errands?” Rafe said to Carly, taking a bite of fish.
She shrugged. “You know...a few cosmetics, a truck starter. That sort of thing.” Her gaze flicked to Gus.
“Got your truck working just fine, Rafe. That old starter was bad as they get.”
“Great,” he said, narrowing his eyes. Something was going on here, but he couldn’t imagine what it was—unless she’d gone to town to make plans for her departure. No big secret there.
“Chicky says hi,” Carly added.
“You went to the feed store?” he asked in astonishment.
Carly let out a nervous laugh. “No! No...I—I didn’t go to the feed store. Why would I go there?” She rolled a look at Gus. “No, I saw her at the, uh,—”
“Pharmacy,” Gus finished. “Buyin’ a bottle of pills.”
Rafe nodded. “Pills.”
“Yes. Uh-huh. Pills.”
Laurie exchanged a sideways look with Rafe and went back to her fish.
“Anyway,” Carly said, clearing her throat, “she told me to tell you the feed you ordered came in. So...I’m telling you.”
“Is somethin’ going on here?” Rafe asked, setting his fork down.
A wildly innocent look flattened Carly’s expression. “Going on?”
“Going on?” Gus echoed with equal fervor.
“Yeah,” Rafe said. “Going on.” By now, they had the boys’ attention too. The three boys were following the conversation as if it were a Ping-Pong ball, back and forth across the table.
“Nothing’s going on.” Carly lifted her water glass high. “Except that I think the fishermen deserve a toast for this incredible meal.” She gestured with her water glass, and everyone else followed suit. “Here’s to fishing partners extraordinaire!”
Evan chinked his glass against Rafe’s with a bittersweet smile that nearly broke his heart. “And many more expeditions to come,” Rafe added quietly.
Laurie glanced at Jordan, who was still cautiously chewing the piece of bread she’d given him. “Jordan, honey, I meant chew the fish carefully, not the bread.”
“Oh,” he said with a sheepish grin, and swallowed.
The phone rang amid the chaos of conversation that buzzed around the table, and Rafe got up to get it.
“Kellard?” said the voice on the other end. “Stivers here.”
Rafe felt his jaw tighten. There was no one who could spoil his appetite faster than Jed Stivers. “Jed, look, I’m just sitting down to dinner. This is a bad time.”
“A bad time? Hell, is there ever a bad time for congratulations?”
He looked at the receiver as if it had gone haywire. “Excuse me?”
Jed made an impatient sound on the other end of the line. “I said I’m callin’ to congratulate you, son! Hellfire, it isn’t every day I get to deal with such a savvy and, I must say, beautiful lady.”
“What beautiful lady?” Rafe asked, swinging his gaze to Carly, who was looking at him as though she’d forgotten how to breathe.
To Love A Cowboy Page 20