by Leigh Riker
“Not very comfortable,” Grey muttered, “for either of you.”
“She was a restless sleeper, too. She had quite a kick,” Shadow said. “Anyway, I ended up suggesting to Hilga that we try to find an apartment for all three of us. Splitting rent, we might have even been able to find something in a nice neighborhood with a good school nearby. Though Hilga’s finances weren’t much of an improvement over mine.”
“So, what happened?”
“One night, Hilga knocked at my door. I was still hopeful that maybe we would work things out.”
“From your tone, I take it you didn’t.”
“As soon as she walked in, I could tell something was wrong. Her hands were knotted together, and she told me her son and his wife had invited her to live with them.” Shadow swallowed. “She would have her own room and bath in Utica, and be with her grandchildren. How could I compete with that? With family? She’d had some health problems, too. She would rely on her son and his wife. ‘No matter how good friends are,’ she said, ‘they eventually turn away. They have to think of themselves.’” She paused. “Hilga told me I needed to think of Ava. It wasn’t a criticism—and I knew how much she loved her—but I was heartbroken.”
“That must have been hard,” Grey said.
“That was the only time I thought of calling my mother—when Hilga left. I wanted to find out if she, at least, had changed her mind about me, about Ava. I wanted to beg. But my father was still there, probably sitting in his recliner watching reruns. I couldn’t ask for their help.”
“You could have called me then, Shadow.”
“That didn’t seem possible, either. Not with Jared still between us. But Hilga’s comment about family stuck with me. That’s when I turned to Jenna. If she were willing to help with Ava, even for a little while, I could get on my feet. Ava loved her occasional visits with her, and if Jenna’s husband would agree, Ava could begin first grade, not in a good school but a great one. I took a deep breath. And dialed their number.”
Without a word, Grey walked toward her and took her in his arms. “You had a rougher time than I might have imagined. That was my fault, too, Shadow. I should have been there. I should have known, somehow.”
“I don’t blame you, Grey.”
“Not for that,” he said, but he drew her closer.
Shadow’s head dropped like a wilted flower onto his shoulder as if she couldn’t hold herself upright any longer. She couldn’t move. All the years of being alone, of caring for Ava without him, seemed to condense into this moment, Grey’s lips on her hair. He brushed it aside, his other hand on her shoulder, then slowly, sweetly, he kissed his way down her cheek to the line of her jaw and then to the corner of her mouth.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You shouldn’t have had full responsibility for Ava—struggled like that—but you did a great job, Shadow. She’s a wonderful little girl. And somehow, we’ll make this work. For her,” he murmured. “And for us.”
Shadow wanted to make it work, too. But there was still Jared. And, in that moment, she hoped Grey did find proof that he was not to blame. That he could somehow prove his innocence. Then, in the next instant, she stopped thinking at all.
Grey’s mouth took hers, not light and quick this time. He kissed her with the gulf of years between them breached at last, with that intense, soul-reaching passion she had never forgotten. Neither had he, she knew, as she let him take her deeper, then farther still, as if in the joining of their mouths they might find forgiveness. For each other. Find love again.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
GREY WAS LIKE most men. When something troubled him, he took action. A suburban guy might mow the lawn or tinker with his car, but as always, Grey went riding. Tonight, he had a purpose. And he needed to let his thoughts settle about Ava’s first visit to the ranch, his impasse with Shadow earlier and the way he’d kissed her as if his very life hung in the balance. After that, she certainly knew how he still felt about her.
He could only hope she’d soon change her view of him regarding Jared. Clearing his name had become even more important, and not only to prove he was innocent in the shooting. If he was guilty, he’d have nothing to offer her or Ava except a tainted family background. A father who might become a convicted felon. Which would be far worse than losing the ranch. He didn’t want that to happen, either.
He nudged Big Red through the last of the thick brush at the top of the ridge. From below, he heard the familiar, soft lowing of cattle, the shifting of hooves and the far-off munching of rich grass. Dismounting, he tied Red to the nearest tree, then lay down on his belly a few feet away, binoculars in hand.
As he swept the area, a sudden movement caught his attention. Over the milling sounds of the herd, a dark shape appeared and another horse ambled through the cows and calves to the fence line. There, the man in the saddle climbed off the horse—which looked oddly familiar, even in the dark—and snipped the wire. Not in the same spot as before, but close.
Grey swore under his breath. He hadn’t lost any more cattle—yet—but he also hadn’t recovered the others. Now, clearly, he was about to lose more. In his mind he was already doing the new calculations. If he didn’t put an end to the rustling—no real thanks to Finn, thus far—and never mind any necessary loans Grey needed, the ranch would be even deeper in the red, for sure.
Like Shadow in Kansas City years ago, Grey had barely managed to pay most of the bills last month, and he was in danger of just hanging on until he couldn’t any longer. When his father and stepmother came for Logan and Blossom’s wedding, Grey would have to admit he’d failed.
And what about Ava? The ranch should be hers to inherit one day—assuming Wilson Cattle still existed.
The guy was through the fence now. Grey jumped to his feet. Catching Red’s bridle, he untied the horse from the tree, swung up into the saddle and cantered down the hill. There wasn’t a stock trailer or a white truck in sight, but someone, he saw, was ready for the others.
In a flash Grey recognized him, as well as the horse he rode. All along, had this been not only personal but an inside job?
Grey didn’t call to him until he’d reached the bottom of the hill. Then his voice rang out. “Cody!”
He rode up to the fence, reined Red to a halt and leaned over the pommel. The ranch hand’s gaze flew to his.
“Hey, boss.” Even in the dark Grey could see his startled expression, but Cody could be brazen as well as careless, and he made an attempt at an alibi. “Where’d you come from? I was on my way back to the barn when I noticed this piece of broken fence here. Stopped to mend it till tomorrow when I’ll do the job proper-like.”
“I just watched you cut this fence. Why?”
Grey knew—he was obviously one of the rustlers—but he wanted to hear Cody say it, to confirm his own sense of betrayal. Cody’s head jerked around, and he scanned the road. He had run out of words.
His jaw tight, Grey said, “I’ve treated you like a kid brother. Put up with your less-than-stellar skills on the job. I’ve forgiven your lapses in feeding horses, fixing this fence how many times...and this is how you repay me? Stealing the source of my livelihood? And yours,” he added, “although I guess this might be more lucrative.” In the distance, Grey heard the roar of an engine. Within minutes, what he imagined must be the borrowed truck and trailer would be here again.
Cody hung his head, perhaps hoping Grey would take pity on him.
“Don’t move. For starters, you’re fired.”
He had his rifle out of the scabbard on his saddle and pulled his cell phone from his shirt pocket to call Finn. Suddenly, Cody ducked under the fence where Grey and his horse had penned him in, then broke and ran. Grey had underestimated him again. Grey shouted after him but Cody grabbed Nugget’s reins and was on the horse before Grey could move.
In the few second
s it took to kick Red into a gallop, Cody was already far ahead of him. Grey had never seen the horse run that fast. She was normally bomb proof and easygoing, and she’d taken good care of Ava that afternoon, as horses tended to do with kids, but—he saw now—she hadn’t been spurred in the sides by Cody’s metal rowels that glinted in the night.
Grey cursed again, this time aloud. In minutes he’d exhausted his already tired horse and lost Cody over the hill, but he wasn’t running straight for the barn as Grey expected. First a cattle rustler and now a horse thief. He had no doubt the other men with the stock trailer would pick him up at some prearranged meeting point in case things went wrong. Which they definitely had.
Still, Grey was glad to have a lead on his missing cattle, if not in the mystery of Jared Moran’s death.
* * *
AVA’S MOTHER WAS trying to tuck her in for the night, but she wasn’t sleepy. She was excited after their visit to Wilson Cattle and her first horseback ride—not to mention the fact that she’d learned Grey was her father. For the first time since Ava had come to the house, she almost felt as if she belonged here. She’d rather live at the ranch, though. Maybe there she’d have a bigger room.
She eyed the bedcovers then glanced at the Hello Kitty decals on the walls. She looked at the desk that matched her bed and bureau. And had to smile.
“This was quite the day, wasn’t it?” her mother asked. She had a strange look on her face. “I mean, with meeting your dad, and—”
“Know something?” Ava cut in. “I used to imagine Tim McGraw was my dad. I liked that idea—because he looks like a cowboy.” She picked Stormy up off the blanket. He smelled like dust, which Ava thought was a great smell. She had to agree with Grey...her father. Maybe the adults thought she’d freak out when they told her, and at first Ava hadn’t known how to feel, but this was really cool. Amazing, in fact. “Grey is, like, the most cowboy guy I could think of, even better than Tim McGraw because he’s real and he’s here. Do you remember when I was little and I loved that one book?”
Her mom smiled. “Janie Wants to Be a Cowgirl. Yes, I remember that very well. We probably read it a thousand times—and always more than once at night before you’d go to bed. You couldn’t sleep without Janie,” she said, “Or Stormy.”
Ava wrinkled her nose. “Even after I learned to read, I liked to have you read it to me. I loved Janie! She had pink boots.”
Her mother drew her close, and Ava let her. After today, she felt okay to talk again about things they’d done together. She hoped they’d do even more things with Grey Wilson. She snuggled against her mom, inhaling the scent of shampoo and a lingering trace of the same dust from the ranch yard. Grey—Dad—had said she would like all the other smells there one day, too. They were related.
“You were the most affectionate little girl I’ve ever known,” her mom said. “My sisters never wanted to cuddle when they were small. I loved reading to you.”
“I could read to you now.”
“Yes, you could,” she agreed, then her expression got serious. “Are you okay with this? Your dad and I would have told you in a more...well, better, way, but we couldn’t think how. Except to say it.”
“I’m okay,” Ava said. “You guys did fine.” She nestled closer, leaning her head against her mother’s shoulder.
“Do you know how many times, since that early morning in the hospital when I first held you in my arms, I’ve tiptoed into your bedroom to watch you sleep?” Her voice sounded thick, and Ava felt her mother swallow. “In our apartment, then Aunt Jenna’s house and now here? I always say a little prayer, Ava, because you’re such a blessing to me. I love you so much, sweetie.” And Ava’s whole being seemed to settle into the bed, into this house, where her mother wanted her to live.
“I was mad at you for a while, but I love you too, Mom.” She sat back. “Can we ask Kaitlyn to come visit sometime?” Maybe she could go with Ava one day to camp and together they could talk to those other girls, try to make friends. She hadn’t tried at all before.
“Of course we can. She can stay over and we’ll make pizza. We’ll watch movies all night—and maybe we’ll even read about Janie again. For old times’ sake.”
Ava giggled. “Kaitlyn would laugh at me. She thinks Stormy is a little kid’s toy. She doesn’t know he was my very first horse.” She grinned to show she knew that was just pretend. “Grandma even picked him out for me. I like her.”
Ava’s lids were drooping. In a nightly ritual that had been theirs ever since she could remember, and that Ava had refused like a brat until tonight in this house, her mother kissed the top of her head, then each cheek in turn and, finally, planted a light peck on her lips. As she tucked Stormy beside Ava, she said, “Time to sleep, baby. ’Night.”
But Ava opened her eyes again, and she looked around the pink and white and black room. “You did this for me. Didn’t you?”
Her mom sent her a rueful smile. “I tried, yes.”
“It’s okay. Can we paint it, though, before Kaitlyn comes here?”
“That’s a deal.”
Holding Stormy, Ava relaxed into her pillows, warm and cozy under her blankets. She had a whole new life to dream about.
And Tim McGraw wasn’t in it.
* * *
AMAZED AT THE sweet moments they had shared, Shadow left Ava’s room. As she tiptoed down the hall, she heard the front door open. All thought of the afternoon, of Ava learning Grey was her father, Shadow’s conversation with him to explain her past struggles, even their kisses, flew out of her head as she hurried to greet her mother.
Wanda smiled. “A good day, over-all.” She gestured at several boxes she’d left in the front hall. “The last of your things from my house. Most of them are just old school papers and such.”
Just when Shadow thought she was asleep, Ava called out, “Good-night, Grandma.”
“Good-night, Ava. Sweet dreams.”
Shadow blinked. The two hadn’t exactly become the best of friends, but Ava seemed to be riding high on her first visit to Wilson Cattle. To her father. After all, a dream of hers had come true—never mind Shadow’s doubts about her relationship with Grey—and even Shadow’s mother seemed upbeat tonight.
“I had the boxes in the car all day. I would have come sooner, but I stayed for dinner at Bertie’s house. Jack can really cook.” Her mother’s cheeks looked strangely pink. “And would you believe, that child has actually taken to me a bit?”
“And you’ve taken to her,” Shadow pointed out. Somehow, she’d missed that transition, but the few times she’d asked her mother to babysit, including the weekend she’d gone to Kansas City, had obviously been positive for both of them. “I’m glad you’re through blaming her for being Grey’s child.”
“I never blamed her.” She glanced at Shadow. “I blame him. Where does that leave you?”
Shadow shook her head. “I took Ava to the ranch today. Grey and I agreed beforehand that we should tell her he’s her father, but I should have guessed. She and Grey bonded over horses. As you must have heard in her voice, she’s excited. I wonder if she’ll be able to sleep at all.” Shadow smiled sadly. “Ava already loves that ranch, the very place that represents everything painful to me.” She didn’t have to tell her mother it was the place where her father had failed their family, where her brother had died, possibly at Grey’s hand, and where she’d suffered heartbreak.
She gestured at the house she’d saved and worked so hard for. “I’m worried Ava will want to live at Wilson Cattle.”
“She hardly knows him, Shadow.”
“But she will. I can hardly keep them from getting to know each other—and I wouldn’t.” She rubbed a stubborn knot of tension between her brows. “I hope we’ll take things slow. And I have to get through Blossom and Logan’s wedding—and the rehearsal dinner before that. Then I guess Grey
and I will have to come up with a solid plan.”
Her mother searched through her bag for her car keys. When she looked up at Shadow, it seemed clear she wanted to change the subject. “Now that I have a paycheck, I’ll be able to afford a new dress. That,” she said, “and some other nice things I’ve never had. I may even get a cell phone.”
“I’m glad you like your job, Mama.”
That was one worry off her mind.
Her mother’s unmistakable infatuation with Jack might well be another.
* * *
JENNA HAD MADE enough mistakes in her life, the biggest one being David Collier, as it turned out, and their confrontation in his office days ago was still on her mind. Thankfully, her mood had changed from shock and grief about their broken marriage to anger and, most recently, to acceptance, to a growing interest in her future without him. Her talk with Shadow had helped.
For David, she’d given up her college education. Marrying a handsome, charming lawyer on his way up at the firm, buying the house in Shawnee Mission, spending all that effort and money to overcome her infertility had seemed the wisest course at the time, her way out of the poverty in which she and Shadow had grown up.
But she’d been wrong.
With Shadow beside her today, she parked her SUV in front of an apartment complex on the outskirts of Barren. The reality of what was happening had finally penetrated the fog in which she’d been living ever since David announced he was moving to Salt Lake City. Her visit to his office still surprised her; it had been like cleaning out the attic of her mind.
She and David had agreed that the house she had loved, the house that had taken her from her parents’ farm to an upscale neighborhood, would go on the market tomorrow. Jenna would have to watch strangers drift through the rooms she had decorated, hear their criticisms of her taste. Maybe, as her Realtor strongly advised, she should leave during the showings.
“Let’s do this,” she said to Shadow, who went with her up the walk to the new, two-story apartment building with neat hedges and flowers in front. Honestly, she had to admire her sister. Shadow had never waited for a man to come home late for dinner or not at all, never begged for the family Jenna wished for. Even in difficult times, Shadow had made her own way. Now, so would she.