by Thomas, Jodi
“I’ve been busy since Austin was shot.” Ronny knew she didn’t have to tell him everything going on in her life, but she felt she owed him an explanation. “I’m sorry to have put you out. I planned to call you this morning.” She didn’t add that she hadn’t because she’d left her phone in her cabin last night.
“No trouble. I enjoyed the walk. I thought you might be busy helping. I heard about the accident from Dr. Addison when she and her husband, Tinch, came to breakfast this morning, and from your mother an hour later when she came by to see if Martha Q had heard about Hawk. The accounts were radically different.”
“I can imagine, but, Mr. Carleon, you don’t have to worry about me. Austin killed the hogs and Kieran told me the farmer set up traps to catch any more who come near. After hunting with guns, he said his sons will be checking traps from now on.”
“I wasn’t worried about you, dear. Any more than I always do, that is. I came out to tell you that Ivan, Marty’s hiking buddy, is getting married next weekend. Ross, remember him, the pilot who came up to help when we moved Marty from the hospital in Oklahoma to your little duplex?”
“I remember.”
“Well, Ross called me and said he’d stop by and pick up the two of us and we’d all fly down to the wedding. It’s going to be a real Texas shindig. Boots, hats, and two-stepping. I thought you might like to go. It’d only be for a few nights, then we’d fly back.”
“I think I would. I remember the three men. All adventurous like Marty must have been before the accident. They were with him when he fell. They got him off the mountain. Right?”
Mr. Carleon nodded. “From what I hear, Doc has traded his wild ways for volunteering with one of those organizations that goes into places where people never get to see a doctor. Ross still flies, but he spends most of his time writing books about where to find the adventure in life. Last I heard he was a consultant for some TV show called Try Not to Be Eaten Alive before Dawn. Of course, Ivan will settle down once he’s married. Ross told me when he called that the bride said she wasn’t going anywhere that didn’t have an indoor pool for her honeymoon.”
Ronny laughed. “It will be worth the flight to see what kind of woman would marry any one of them. Marty used to tell me all about the wild places they went to. He said they hiked the Pecos Wilderness once for a week without bathing. When they finished, they drove to the nearest town and not a single restaurant would let them in until they rented a room and showered.”
They talked like old friends as the morning turned into afternoon. If he noticed her wrinkled clothes, he didn’t see it as important enough to mention. Mr. Carleon was like that. He saw only the good in people he liked. People he didn’t like, he didn’t see at all.
Ronny told him she’d like to stay longer at the little cabin she called Walden, and he said he’d take the New York apartment off hold.
“I’d like to go back to work. Not at the post office, of course, but maybe open my own accounting business or even a bakery. I think it’s time I stepped back into life.” The words came out far easier than she thought they might.
He smiled, spreading wrinkles across his lean face. “I think that’s wonderful, but you know, miss, you don’t have to work. You have enough to—”
“Mr. Carleon, I think you’ve done a wonderful job of taking care of me, but I’d like to work before the money Marty willed me runs out.”
“It won’t,” he said simply. “You have over a million in accounts that pay you roughly eight thousand a month without touching the principal. You also have a stock account that’s been building. Your current draw on your bank account, per month, including rent, is about two thousand. At that rate, you’ll never run out.”
She leaned back and thought about what he’d just said. “Does anyone know about the money?”
“No one in Harmony. I set it up through a bank in Dallas. You can take over running it any day you like, miss, or I’ll manage it for you until you’re ready.”
“You like doing it?”
“I do. It gives me something to do. Life wouldn’t be near as pleasant if I didn’t get to walk to my office every morning and keep all accounts up to date. Makes me feel useful.”
Ronny grinned. “Then please continue, Mr. Carleon. And, please understand that I want to feel useful too. I just don’t know how, yet. As for the money, I’d like you to donate a hundred thousand to the fire department. Marty always worried about Harmony not having the best equipment.”
“I’ll do that. And don’t worry, miss, you’ll find your way. Maybe that wounded captain next door will help you out.”
Smiling, she asked, “You don’t mind that I’m seeing him?”
“I’m happy for you both. I ran a check on him before I rented the cabin. He’s a good man fighting his way back from terrible times, I think. Marty used to tell me that just looking at you made him feel better, and I didn’t miss the way Captain Hawk stared at you. I think he feels the same.”
“We’re not . . .” She had no idea how to finish the sentence.
“I’m not asking,” Mr. Carleon added. “One question before you get the ATV out and drive me back up to my car. Do you want me to buy this place for you?”
“It’s for sale?”
“I can get it for a good price if you want to live out here. We could have a real road put in and rebuild the dock. Even enlarge the cabin fairly easily.”
Ronny hugged her knees. “Leave the road as it is, but rebuild the dock. I think I’ve found my first real home. As for adding on, I think it’s just about perfect just the size it is.” She almost added that she wouldn’t be sleeping there, but that seemed too big a step to tell anyone yet, even herself.
“I’ll get to work on it as soon as we get back from the wedding.” Mr. Carleon stood. “Oh, I almost forgot, congratulate Dusti Delaney for me.”
“For what?”
He smiled. “She won the poker game last night. I would have thought you’d have heard the party from here.”
Ronny shrugged. “I guess I was asleep.” Turning away, she smiled to herself and rushed down the steps, suddenly in a hurry to get back and tell Austin the news from the poker game.
Mr. Carleon talked as they drove toward Rainbow Lane. He was settling into Harmony as well, even thinking about buying the house next to the bed-and-breakfast. “Mrs. Biggs, Martha Q’s cook, assures me I can still come over for meals. If I had a house I could finally get my things out of storage. They’ve been there so long I’m afraid they’ll all have to be insured as antiques.”
When he said good-bye he gave her one of his rare, polite hugs and hurried off to his car. She had no doubt he was already making his next to-do list in his head.
Ronny also planned all she’d do to fix the place up as she drove back down to the lake. Her own place. Her own home. It sounded like a dream come true. She’d enlarge the kitchen and maybe build an office space by the front window so she could work and look out on the lake. As long as she could get reliable Internet she could work from the cabin and only go into town when she wanted to.
When she walked back over to Hawk House, Austin wasn’t on the porch where she’d left him a few hours before. Their half-eaten lunch was still there. He wasn’t in his three rooms, but his jacket rested on the railing at the bottom of the stairs.
Ronny began to climb. The second floor. No one. All the bedrooms were empty, almost as though no one had ever lived in them. The third floor had only one room. If he’d gone up another flight, it had to have been torture on one leg.
When she stepped into the third floor’s only room, she saw what must be his space. Equipment sat around. Special backpacks designed with oxygen masks. Books and manuals were also scattered on the floor, some with pages blowing in the breeze. When he’d said he lived in only a few rooms of the house, she hadn’t thought that they would be the kitchen and third floor.
&n
bsp; Only this room didn’t look like a home, even a vacation one. It looked more like a barracks, or a lair for a warrior about to leave again to fight. Nothing about the room reminded her of the man, or even the boy who’d stayed here once. She got the feeling that if Austin never returned, nothing personal would need to be boxed and sent to him.
A shadow moved past the window. Someone had to be walking around outside on the widow’s walk, and no one was here but Austin.
Ronny stepped out one of the long windows and saw him standing, looking out toward the lake. It wasn’t safe here. The railing was little more than knee high. If he tripped, he’d fall two floors.
“Austin,” she said softly. “You all right?”
“You left.” He didn’t look at her. “That man came up and you walked off without saying a word to me.”
She moved a few feet toward him. “I’ve mentioned Mr. Carleon. He wouldn’t have come if he hadn’t needed to talk to me.” She wasn’t sure she liked this Austin. He was right, she hadn’t said good-bye. She hadn’t thought she’d be gone more than a few minutes, but still it didn’t seem something to get angry about.
The man before her seemed angry and brooding.
“Are you mad at me?” If he was, over something so small, logic told her to run. This man who put down no roots, who left his mark on nowhere he’d been, would probably never be what she needed.
Deep down inside, Ronny admitted exactly what she needed and never had. She needed a forever man. Not a man who set her blood on fire, but a man who’d be there when she needed him. Who’d sleep with her every night. Who’d hold her when she was happy and sad. Who would never, ever yell at her.
Austin might not be that kind of man. He might never be. People change, but could he change that much?
He touched his leg as if rubbing away pain. “Of course I’m not mad. I was worried when I heard an engine fire up. Thought you might be taking the old guy back across the lake. I thought I could see you if I came up here, but it must have been the ATV you started because your boat never moved out on the water.”
“You were worried about me?” Worry she could accept. Anger she couldn’t.
“No. I’m sure you can take care of yourself. I just . . . Hell, can we drop this whole conversation?” He moved toward her, balancing every other step with his hand on the roofline.
“Sure, I don’t understand it anyway.” She guessed between the two of them they barely had the skills to communicate with guppies, much less another human.
“If you hear another engine, it’s me. This Thursday I’m flying off to attend a wedding and I don’t think I’ll be back for three or four days.”
“Have a good time.” He didn’t sound like he cared one way or the other. “I’ll be fine here. I don’t really need any watching after, and you’ve left enough food for months in my refrigerator.”
Suddenly Austin was back to being a stranger. After he’d held her so tenderly last night and kissed her so passionately a few times before, now she felt like she didn’t even know him.
In silence he moved slowly back down the stairs. He didn’t seem to know what to say any more than she did.
Ronny cleaned up the picnic they’d had on the porch. When she came back in, he was reading.
“You want to play some cards?”
“No,” he answered.
“TV?”
“No. Thanks for bringing the food. I’ll be fine.”
She could walk away. She didn’t need moody. They were both people who liked solitude; wishing something more had happened between them was crazy. She should just walk away and drop off food tonight on the doorstep.
But something that Mr. Carleon had said stopped her. Austin Hawk was a good man fighting his way back from terrible times. His words had made him an easy man to walk away from, but he’d be a hard man to forget.
Somewhere inside this hard man was the man who’d held her close all night. The man who worried about her. The man who cared.
Ronny walked to his chair and sat down on the arm. “Then there is only one thing to do,” she said as she leaned over and kissed him hard on the mouth. When he didn’t move, she cupped his face and kissed him again.
For a second, he didn’t react, and then he pulled her onto his good leg and crushed her against him.
She’d found the one thing he wanted to do. His kiss was full-out, no-holds-barred passion.
Exactly what she wanted. If what they had together was going to end, she wanted to end with a memory she could carry always.
They needed to concentrate on communicating in other ways besides talking. She dug her fingers into his hair and held on tight as his hands slid over her back and hips, pressing her to him as he leaned back in the recliner with her on top of him.
Several minutes passed before he broke the kiss and smiled at her. “You finally figured out what I wanted.”
She leaned against his shoulder. “What was that?”
“You attacking me. No matter how I fight to keep from touching you, I always surrender when you come to me.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me you wanted to kiss me?”
He shook his head. “I guess I didn’t know how. To tell you the truth, I’m surprised you even like me enough to speak to me.” He kissed the top of her head. “When you press against me, it blows my mind, but I want you to know, you’re welcome any time.”
“Again,” she said, straightening as she lowered her mouth to his. With her mouth brushing his, she whispered, “Why don’t we put off talking until we get tired of doing this.”
“That’s not happening, pretty lady.”
As evening cooled the air, they learned that as long as they were touching they had no problem communicating.
Chapter 33
TRUMAN FARM
REAGAN SPENT THE DAYS AFTER THE POKER GAME GETTING her orchard back in order. She moved between the apple trees and back and forth from the house to the barn with Utah strapped in front of her. As always, she found her peace in the orchard. Trumans held to their land, Uncle Jeremiah had always told her.
With Noah gone, she felt the land was all she had left to hold on to. The apple business had been good to her over the past few years. With planning, she’d always have the farm and the trees. As long as she had a home, she could weather any storm and she could take care of Utah if she needed to.
Thanks to the Internet, she’d bought everything for him. In only a few weeks he’d grown to the point that nothing Maria had brought that first day fit. He needed clothes and furniture, swings and bouncy chairs, toys. She needed books and bottles and special soap. The list seemed endless.
Maria called often and dropped by to help, but Reagan rarely left the baby with her. She set up a crib for his naps in her office and worked around his schedule.
Everyone said she was getting thin, working too hard. She couldn’t tell those who cared about her that the baby and the work were saving her. Helping her to be too busy to realize that her heart had broken. Several times a day she thought of Noah, and just the knowledge that she couldn’t call him stabbed at her heart.
Now and then someone would mention that Noah was still in town. He was living out at his run-down ranch, cleaning up the place. It wasn’t far from her farm. She could have easily driven over to see what work he’d done. But there was no reason to go past his ranch. Noah was out of her life. This was the way she wanted it. The way it had to be for her to survive.
Reagan told herself she didn’t care, but some nights she’d look in his direction and think she could almost see a light shining from his old place. The McAllen ranch had the best sunsets, her uncle said once. She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever see it again from his ranch.
On the second Sunday after he’d left, the old pickup he’d driven when they were in high school turned off Lone Oak Road and headed in her direction.
Reagan watched him coming from the second-story window, and for a moment she felt like she’d stepped back in time. He was a skinny kid again and she was a runaway trying to fit in. Noah was coming over to pick her up so they could drive over to some little rodeo, eat dinner from a taco truck parked out by the arena, and hope he won enough money to buy malts for the ride home.
Only that was years ago and nothing was the same now except the old truck kicking up dust on her drive.
The cowboy who stepped out was Harmony’s Noah, her Noah. Not the rodeo star with a spotless white hat and hand-tooled leather boots. Not the man living life high and wild. But just Noah in jeans and a shirt that looked well worn. She couldn’t help but think he still looked like a western hero stepping out of an old dime novel.
He stood by his truck for a while, as if expecting shots to be fired from her porch. He’d told her once that he’d grow up to be good looking, and he had. Tall and lean with a smile that used to light up her world.
Finally, she walked out on the porch and waited to see what he planned to say.
He sauntered up slowly, like a man unsure of his direction. He was tanned darker by the sun than she’d seen him in a long time. His hair was a bit too long. His boots scuffed and worn. Noah, the guy who’d done ninety percent of the talking since they’d met, didn’t say a word. He just stood there in front of her as if waiting for another blow to knock him down.
“Your spark plugs need changing,” she said calmly. “I could hear the engine missing even when you turned off Lone Oak Road.”
He offered a sad smile. “Your uncle told me that one of the first times I came by. He thought you were too young to go with me.”
“I was.” She remembered how frightened she’d been that he might turn into a monster after dark. “But he didn’t try to stop me, just fixed your truck so we’d be able to make it home.”
Memories drifted around her. Her uncle complained about Noah for a year, but he never failed to tell her to “feed the boy” or “tell the kid to make sure he gets you back on time.”