by Helen Lacey
Scarlett laughed loudly “One thing my brother isn’t, and that’s modest.”
“Hey,” Cole said from the doorway, his lean frame leaning against the jamb, arms crossed, looking like the most gorgeous thing on two legs in worn jeans and a white shirt. “Stop ruining my reputation, sis.”
Then there were several minutes of sibling badgering and insults that were said with such affection that Ash couldn’t help but smile and envy the camaraderie he had with his sisters. They clearly all adored one another and it pleased her knowing that Maisy was part of such a loyal, loving family.
Later, once dessert and coffee was done and Micah and Tahlia had gone to bed, Jaye insisted on showing Cole’s father his cart and all the males headed to the barn. His sisters and Nancy remained in the living room, looking over all the pictures on the mantel that depicted so many of the kids that had come and gone over the years, while Ash stayed on the front porch with Zara.
“It’s such a peaceful place,” the older woman commented. “Cole says you’ve lived here all your life?”
“Yes,” Ash replied and wrapped her hands around the banister. “It’s very special to me.”
“I can see why,” Zara replied. “I can also see why my son has become so attached to it.”
She stilled. “Has he?”
His mother came to stand beside her. “I think so. And he doesn’t get attached to things easily.”
Ash suspected they weren’t really talking about the ranch. “Mrs. Quartermaine, I’m not sure what you—”
“He’s always been too devilishly handsome for his own good,” she said and smiled. “And charming. And smart about things. Like women. Except for that viper he married. I never understood why he got involved with Valerie.”
“Perhaps he thought it was time he settled down,” Ash offered as heat rose up her neck. She really didn’t want to have a conversation about his ex-wife with his mother. “You know, after the accident. Sometimes when a person is faced with their own mortality, it can make them think about the future.”
“Cole talked to you about that?” Zara’s expression softened. “I see. Well, he obviously trusts you. And you’ve done such a marvelous job with my granddaughter, I’m not sure we could ever repay you.”
“Seeing Maisy happy, seeing her and Cole getting along—that’s all the payment I need.”
Zara patted her arm. “My granddaughter is lucky to have you in her life. So is my son.”
Later, once the Quartermaines had returned to town and everyone else had turned in for the night, Ash sat by the window in her bedroom, looking out into the darkness, and she thought about Zara’s words. Because she wasn’t in Cole’s life. She was on the edge. And only temporarily. He would be leaving soon and going back to his real life. And as she climbed into bed and turned off the light, Ash was stunned to realize how wretchedly unhappy that made her feel.
When she dragged herself out of bed the following morning it was past seven o’clock. She was tired and grumpy and since she’d spent most of the night awake and staring at the ceiling, she figured she needed another few hours’ sleep to be fully functional. She knew Jaye would be jumping out of his skin over the race and when she reached the kitchen for a much-needed cup of coffee, he was already at the counter, shoveling cereal into his mouth under Nancy’s watchful eye.
“Grandma said I gotta eat before I race,” he said, wiping away some milk off his chin.
“She’s right,” Ash said and winked at her mother. “What time are you heading off this morning?”
“The race starts at eleven, but we gotta be there by ten o’clock to sign in,” he said, his face beaming. “First we gotta make sure the cart is ready. Uncle Ted is coming, too, but Cole is driving us there, ’cuz he has to strap my cart down in the back of the truck. And Grandma is bringing Tahlia and Micah later. And I think Maisy is going with her grandparents.”
It looked as though everyone had a plan for the day. The spring fair was an annual event and brought families and friends together from around the county. Ash had volunteered to help on one of the craft stalls for a couple of hours, but promised her son they would spend time together and that she would be there for the big race. It occurred to her, as he finished his breakfast and pulled on a sweater and cap, that he was more interested in getting the day started with Cole than hanging out with her. And she hated that it irked her. Jaye was growing up...and fast. He didn’t need her like he once had. And today, as he raced out the door as quickly as his brace would allow, he clearly didn’t need her at all.
Cole emerged through the back door about ten minutes later, informing her that he and Uncle Ted and Jaye were leaving. He looked so damned good she had to bite back a surge of resentment.
“So, I’ll see you in a couple of hours?” he asked, hovering in the doorway.
She finished her coffee and managed a tight, forced smile. “Sure. Have fun.”
He frowned, clearly picking up on her mood. “Everything okay?”
“Just fine,” she replied stiffly. “I’ll see you soon.”
He lingered for a moment and looked as though he intended to say something. But he didn’t, and once he disappeared, Ash let out a long breath, irritated and confused by her feelings.
“Are you two sleeping together?”
Her mother’s voice got her attention immediately. She looked at Nancy, saw that her mother was regarding her with both brows raised curiously, and scowled. “Of course not.”
“Well, maybe you should be,” her mother said bluntly. “A few hours between the sheets with him might be exactly what you need to stop looking so...tense.”
“Mom!” she admonished, mortified. “Really. What a thing to say.”
“Oh, stop being such a prude, darling,” Nancy said and chuckled as she waved a dismissive hand. “You’ve got eyes. And so have I,” she said, brows up. “I’ve noticed the way he looks at you. And the way you look at him. Do something crazy for once in your life.”
“I don’t do crazy,” she reminded her parent. “I’m too sensible.”
“Too scared, more like.” Nancy hugged her briefly. “Don’t forget to live a little amid all that good sense.”
The problem was, she knew what living a little meant. It meant feeling. It meant being seen. Being vulnerable. And the very idea of that petrified her through to her bones.
* * *
“Tell me,” Nicola said to her a couple of hours later. “Why did we volunteer for this again?”
The small pedestal umbrella offered very little shade from the sun and Ash knew she’d made a mistake wearing the short green dress with narrow straps and a belted waist. Her shoulders were bare and already tinged pink from the midmorning sun. Nicola, with her olive skin and Italian heritage, didn’t have to worry about burning as quickly, but even she was looking a little flushed.
“Because we care about our community and we were needed to help sell these crafts,” she replied, sorting through the array of knitted teapot warmers and crocheted tea towels on the long table.
Nicola wrinkled her nose. “I’m so bored.”
“Me, too,” Ash admitted, waving a greeting to a few people she knew who wandered past. “But it’s for charity.”
“I’m obviously a bad person,” her friend said and laughed. “Because I’m not feeling all that charitable right now. I’ve got so much work to do at the restaurant. And Marco and Johnny have been—”
“Do you think sex really relieves tension?” Ash asked and laughed, cutting off Nicola’s complaining. “Or is it just a myth?”
Nicola stared at her. “You’re asking me that? Me, who hasn’t been on a real date in over a year.” She shrugged and then chuckled. “I’ve almost forgotten what a date is. And sex.”
Ash grinned. “You do know that Kieran is coming back to town for Kayla and Liam�
��s wedding next month?”
Kieran O’Sullivan was Nicola’s high-school boyfriend. The relationship had ended a long time ago—and ended badly—but Ash liked Kieran. He was her favorite O’Sullivan. They’d gone to school together and now he was a doctor in Sioux Falls. But with her friend Kayla and husband, Liam, renewing their wedding vows in a month, she knew he’d be there to stand in as best man for his brother. And she suspected Nicola was not entirely over her high-school sweetheart.
Nicola waved a dismissive hand. “Ancient history. I approve of Cole, by the way,” she said and grinned as she changed the subject. “He’s kind of the whole package—handsome, rich, funny...great with kids.”
Ash ground her teeth together. Yes, he was perfect. She’d spoken to him several times that morning, each time with her über-excited son at his side. The patience and kindness he showed toward Jaye, toward everyone, made her fall for him more and more. She didn’t like how it made her feel. Angry at herself, for starters. And she experienced a budding resentment toward him she would never have imagined she was capable of feeling. It lingered on the edge of her consciousness, drifting in and out each time he brought Jaye to visit her at the craft stand. Micah and Tahlia spent some time with him, too, and Maisy was coming and going with her family in tow. Except for Ian, who’d decided to find a shady spot under a tree and hang out with Uncle Ted.
“There’s nothing going on between us,” she stated, retidying the tidy piles on the table.
“Not yet,” Nicola teased.
“He’s leaving in a week,” she reminded her friend.
“Seven long days and nights...”
Ash ignored the other woman’s words, checked her watch, saw that it was close to eleven. “I have to go,” she said and moved around the table. “Jaye’s race starts soon.”
Nicola waved a hand. “Wish him good luck from me.”
Ash nodded and headed off to the other side of the fair. There were rows of stalls selling everything from jams to leather goods, face painting for the kids, pony rides and a huge inflated castle. There was wood chopping and a tractor pull and later that evening there would be a rodeo and fireworks display. Ash stopped to speak with a couple of officers on duty and then made her way past the rodeo grounds and to the grassy hill beyond that was teeming with people—race competitors, officials and supporters. Aside from the rodeo, the soapbox races were a major draw to the fair. Each race was age-appropriate and there were up to six competitors in each race to avoid congestion and maintain safety standards. Ash had to maneuver through the crowds to find the starting line, and her son.
When she did her heart almost burst inside her ribs. He was standing by his cart, chest puffed out, both Cole and Uncle Ted at his side. Ash approached and moved up behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders.
“Mom!” he said and turned, his face beaming proudly. “What do you think?”
She looked at the cart and smiled. It was meticulously put together, like a miniature race car, decorated in bright colors and pictures she knew were significant to her son. A child’s drawing of the ranch house, the dogs playing in the yard, a police badge on the front and kids’ smiling faces, one for every child that had come through their life over the years.
Pride washed over her and she marveled at the human being she had created. Her son was special, without a doubt. Ash looked at Cole, saw that he was watching her and managed a tight, wrenching smile.
“It looks amazing,” she said. “You did a great job.”
“Cole did most of the work,” Jaye admitted and Ash’s heart rolled over when Cole ruffled her son’s hair affectionately. “But I did the decorating.”
“It was a joint effort,” Cole said and checked his watch. “You’re up in two minutes, kiddo, better get your safety helmet on and climb in.”
“Will you be waiting for me at the bottom of the hill?” he asked, looking up at the man in front of him as though he was his own private superhero.
“You bet,” Cole replied. “And remember, do it just like you did in practice. Go steady, go straight,” he said and grinned. “Go hard.”
Jaye looked around to the other competitors and Ash saw the slight tremble in his shoulders.
“What if I lose?” he asked, his confidence suddenly seeming to wane. “What if I come last?”
Ash was about to speak when Cole crouched down in front of him and placed the helmet in her son’s hands. “Did I ever tell you about the time I raced and finished last? I’d won a race two weeks earlier and got all cocky and was convinced I’d win again. But I didn’t. I blew it. I made a couple of bad decisions and ended up at the back end of the pack. And it sucked...big-time. But I didn’t let it stop me from getting back on the track.” He patted Jaye’s shoulder. “And you won’t, either. If you give it your best shot today, if you try your very hardest and still lose, then at least you lose with no excuses. And that’s all that competing is about...trying your best.”
Jaye’s spirits seemed to pick up instantly. “Thanks, Cole. I’m gonna do that.”
Cole nodded. “Then you’ve already won, buddy.”
Ash fought the heat clawing at her throat and then hugged her son lovingly. “Good luck.”
She stepped back and watched as Cole helped Jaye into the cart and he took his place alongside the other competitors. Ash snapped several pictures on her cell phone and then headed down to the bottom of the hill, so she could capture the moment her son crossed the finish line. She saw her mother in the bleachers with Micah and Tahlia and waved, then spotted Maisy and the rest of the Quartermaines sitting behind them. It touched her deeply to think how much support her son had in the crowd and as she continued her way down the hill, her eyes were hot and aching. She was the one who usually supported other people’s children—to feel that reciprocated was a little overwhelming.
She found a spot at the bottom of the long hill, safely out of harm’s way and behind a stack of straw bales that had been put into position to deflect any carts that were out of control. There were half a dozen other parents milling around the same area, all positioned in strategic spots for each child who was racing. She noticed that Cole had already made his way down the hill and was waiting at the end of the strip, a lanyard around his neck, indicating that he was Jaye’s support crew. She noticed a couple of people pointing and talking and realized he had been recognized. But it didn’t faze him at all. He was concentrating on Jaye and no one else.
A racing pistol fired, the crowd cheered and Ash’s attention was solely focused on her child as he raced down the hill, his cart bobbing and weaving as he tried to keep it straight and fast. It was over quickly. Too quickly. And when all the carts finally came to a halt at the bottom of the hill she heard laughter and cheers and watched, mesmerized, as Jaye pumped his fists in the air. Cole was by the cart in a microsecond and Jaye was quickly out of the seat, balancing on his brace, his helmet off and his red hair plastered to his head. Just as Ash was about to race forward to congratulate her son, she saw him rush toward Cole. She stilled, unable to move as Cole laughed, lifted Jaye gently under his arms and swung him around.
Exclusion, raw and painful, filled her heart, her limbs and her whole body.
Jaye was laughing. Joyous. Overwhelmed. Happier than she had ever seen him before. When his feet were back on the ground he was still laughing, still pumping his arms in the air in a kind of gangly victory dance, still not noticing that she was barely four feet away.
“Did you see me!” he said to Cole, barely able to contain his excitement. “I came third! Third! How awesome is that.”
Cole patted his back. “You did great. You kept it steady and straight.”
“And fast,” Jaye said with unbridled exuberance. “The third fastest!”
“I’m really proud of you, kid,” Cole said. “You’re the best.”
Jaye looked at Cole a
s though he had just handed him the moon and Ash’s insides ached even more. And in that moment she realized that her child, the child she had carried in her womb, the child she had brought into the world, the child she had nurtured and loved and protected all his life, had just been given something he desperately longed for. Something that made him feel whole and cherished and worthy. Something she had never been able to give him. Could never give him.
A father’s pride.
“Look,” Cole said. “Your mom’s here.”
She met Cole’s gaze, their eyes locking as though by a magnetic force. She tried to smile, tried not to let her feelings of exclusion show, and hugged her son closely, inhaling the scent of his shampoo and loving him so much her insides ached. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything but feel helpless. And then foolishly resentful.
“You were incredible. Amazing,” she said and hugged Jaye tightly.
“I’m gonna get a trophy,” he said, beaming.
She knew how important that was to her son, knew he’d longed for a trophy to put on the mantel that was for something other than a math competition or chess tournament. Something athletic. Something where he wasn’t defined by his leg brace.
Something she’d failed to give her son.
She’d protected him, kept him apart from anything she considered unsafe. Stifling him, she realized. Making him doubt himself, making him believe he had limits, boundaries.
She looked at Cole, saw him watching her with burning intensity, and knew he saw the hurt in her eyes. She muttered something about getting back to the craft stand for a while, but promised to return for the trophy presentation. Then she hugged her son once more before she turned and fled, never feeling more like a failure as a parent than she did in that moment. And she wanted to hate Cole for making her feel that way.
But instead, she could only love him for giving her child what she couldn’t.
Chapter Nine