Katie couldn’t agree. She’d met Wyatt a few times over the years, and he was a brilliant young man. Intelligent, sensitive. Aaron wouldn’t understand or appreciate any of those traits.
“You’re never going to let the past go, are you?” Suzanne asked. “Despite all the years, you’re still as much in love with Gloria as you were the day she died.”
“Suzanne, it’s not like that,” Aaron said.
She went on without missing a beat. “I can’t compete with a ghost. I thought we could work this out, but now I’m not so sure. I’m tired, Aaron. I’m tired of fighting with you, of always being the outsider. And I’m tired of being second best.”
“Susie, you don’t mean that.”
“I do. More than I’ve ever meant anything.”
Katie straightened and turned away. She didn’t want to listen anymore. Whatever problems Suzanne and Aaron had weren’t her business. She shouldn’t have eavesdropped in the first place.
She walked to the kitchen, where she left a note for her stepmother, telling Suzanne where she and Shane were staying. She wrote down the Darby phone number, in case of an emergency. Then she headed for the back door and her waiting vehicle.
But before she left, she glanced around the kitchen she’d grown up in. Over the years, Suzanne had made it her own. Her copper pots hung above the large stove. The wallpaper had been replaced about six years before. Somehow she’d forged a family from a collection of kids that by all rights should have hated each other.
Suzanne had never played favorites, not with her own two, Aaron’s four or the two children they’d had together. She’d always treated the kids fairly. Of all eight siblings only Josie, Katie’s younger sister, had not gotten along with Aaron’s second wife.
“Quite an accomplishment,” Katie said softly. She hoped her father knew what a treasure he had in Suzanne and that he wouldn’t let his pride stand in the way of saving his marriage. She tried not to think about the fact that being right was more important than anything with her father, then she left the house.
Chapter Eight
B y two that afternoon Katie had unpacked for both herself and her son. Shane had returned from his riding lesson with Jack and was watching a movie. Katie prowled restlessly through the large house. She felt jumpy and out of place. Too much had happened in too short a period of time. Between her new job, trying to settle on the Fitzgerald ranch, watching the relationship between her son and her father disintegrate and then having to move out—she felt broadsided. She needed a break, she thought. A brief escape from the circumstances of her life. She thought about driving out to check on the construction of her new house, but the idea wasn’t enticing. She wanted to do something more physical.
She walked into the family room. Shane relaxed against Jack’s mother, his head resting trustingly on the older woman’s arm. They were each holding a bowl of popcorn and seemed engrossed in the adventures of a cartoon Hercules.
Hattie saw her and smiled. Shane hit the pause button on the VCR remote.
“Hi, Mom. Wanna watch?”
“I don’t think so,” Katie said, hovering by the doorway.
“What is it, dear?” Hattie asked. “Having trouble settling in?”
“I guess.” Katie shifted her weight, then shoved her hands into her pockets. “Everything is great. I really appreciate all that you’re doing for us. But I just can’t seem to relax. I think I’ve been inside too much or something. Would you mind if I went for a ride?”
“Not at all. The exercise will do you good. There’s a gray and white gelding in the stable. His name is Socks, and he’s a wonderful animal. Gentle and forgiving of rusty skills, but with plenty of stamina. He’ll take you wherever you want to go.”
“Thank you,” Katie said. She looked at her son. “Are you going to be all right here if I’m gone for a little while?”
He pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Mom, I’m not a baby. I like Hattie. It’s fine. After the movie I’m gonna work on the Web site for my school project. Hattie says she wants to watch.”
“Sounds nice.”
Katie wanted to question him further to try to find out how much Aaron’s outburst had hurt him. But this wasn’t the time. If Shane was feeling relaxed and comfortable in his new surroundings, she was grateful. She would talk with him about the rest of it later.
She waved to them both and walked out of the room. On her way to the stable she couldn’t help remembering the sight of her son curled up on the sofa, terrified of his grandfather. Her heart ached at the memory. By contrast he found comfort with Hattie and Jack. Why did her father have to be so damn difficult?
She drew in a deep breath and sighed. There were no magic answers to Aaron’s temperament. For now Shane was safe, and that was all that mattered.
Twenty minutes later she and the gray gelding cantered away from the barn. Katie felt her tensions and restlessness ease with each ground-eating stride of her mount. As Hattie had promised, Socks was forgiving of her awkward seat and slightly heavy hands.
She inhaled the sweet scent of the afternoon air. The sun warmed her back as a slight breeze blew her short hair away from her face. For the first time that day, she smiled. Maybe everything was going to be all right, after all.
Socks headed for a grove of trees, then circled them. Katie glanced around and realized that she was going to have to keep track of where they were going. This wasn’t Fitzgerald land, so she didn’t know her way. Getting lost wouldn’t be very smart.
She reined in Socks and studied the sun, then glanced back the way they’d come. She figured the Darby-Fitzgerald property line was northwest of her present position. If she found that, she could ride the fence and know where she was going. “Better than getting lost,” she murmured, then urged her horse forward.
They came to the fence line in less than a mile. Katie followed it north. Her mind drifted from topic to topic, and it wasn’t until they crested a rise that she realized where she’d subconsciously been leading her horse.
Below lay a small, shallow valley. There weren’t any cattle around. This time of year, they didn’t use this pasture. A line shack—a single-room structure with the most basic of supplies—stood sheltered by several trees. A single horse waited patiently out front.
Katie stared at the building. She hadn’t seen it in eleven years, yet nothing had changed. The building was just as plain and weatherworn. The trees didn’t seem any taller. She stared at the horse—even that was familiar. How many times had she ridden up and seen an animal hobbled by the front door?
All those years ago, only one person would have been waiting for her inside that small building. Today she had no reason to expect him to be there, and yet she was sure he was. Whatever powers had drawn her here this day must have also drawn him. The past had a wisdom all its own.
Memories flooded her brain, and she didn’t have power against their current. She leaned over and stroked Socks’s neck. The gelding snorted softly. She remembered the first time she’d crested this particular rise and seen the shack. It had been summer, and she’d been all of thirteen.
July fifth, she thought, losing herself in what had been all those years ago. She remembered the date because the Fourth of July had been awful. The family picnic had dissolved into fights and hurt feelings. Katie had been missing her mother. Gloria Fitzgerald had been gone less than two years, and while Katie really liked her new stepmother, Suzanne wasn’t Mom. Then there were the other problems in Katie’s life. Thirteen was not a great age. She wasn’t old enough to do anything fun, but she was too old to play with the little kids. She’d felt restless and confused by hormones and emotions. Worse, at breakfast that morning, her father had announced that Suzanne was pregnant.
Katie knew enough about sex to know how her stepmother got pregnant. And the thought of her father doing that with anyone had been enough to make her skin crawl. Parents were supposed to be, well, parents.
Then Katie had stumbled across the line shack. She�
�d gone to investigate, reasonably confident that she was trespassing on Darby land, but thrilled by the adventure, however small. She’d gone inside and had found someone had fixed up the place. There were fresh blankets on the cot and a comfortable chair by the window that was perfect for reading. Then there were the books. Dozens and dozens of wonderful books. Mysteries and biographies and travel stories. She’d found a couple of tins of cookies and a few magazines showing nearly naked women. Katie had helped herself to the former and been shocked by the latter.
For nearly two weeks she’d found her way to the shack in the afternoon, when her chores were done and no one cared where she went. She’d read and dreamed and started a journal. Then one afternoon the door had jerked opened and a tall, gangly shadow had demanded to know what the hell she was doing in his line shack.
Katie smiled as she remembered her surprise. It had taken her several seconds to recognize the fourteen-year-old boy in front of her.
“Jack?” Her heart had pounded so fast, she was afraid it was going to fly right out of her check.
Katie had worshiped Jack from afar ever since he’d taught her to ride a bike three years before. She daydreamed about them meeting and had planned dozens of clever things to say to him. At that moment she couldn’t think of a single one.
She’d scrambled to her feet. “Jack, it’s Katie.”
“I know who you are.”
His gruff words had not been the welcome she’d wanted. “I thought—” She motioned to the shack. “I found this a few weeks back. I’ve been spending my afternoons here.”
“Why?”
She’d stared at him, but hadn’t been able to tell what he was thinking. “Why are you mad at me? I didn’t hurt anything.”
His gaze flew to the tattered manila envelope that held the magazines of the almost-naked women. Katie blushed. When he remained silent and staring, she’d felt defeated.
“I just needed a place to go,” she said, carefully closing the book she’d been reading. “I didn’t think anyone would care that I’d been here. I’m sorry for trespassing.”
She’d walked toward the door, intent on leaving. But he hadn’t stepped out of her way. She raised her chin and glared. “I can’t get out with you standing there.”
“Did you know this was my place?” he asked.
She bit her lower lip. “I guessed it was. I didn’t know who else would be using it. But after you taught me to ride a bike and stuff, I didn’t think you’d mind me being here, too.”
He took a half step toward her and moved out of the shadows. She’d seen Jack at school, but she hadn’t been this close to him in three years. He was tall—much taller than her. While she was still more girl than woman, he’d made progress toward becoming a man. He had broad shoulders and long legs. He was still bony, but she could see the promise of his future in the skinny adolescent in front of her.
An odd kind of tension filled her chest. “I, ah, guess I never thanked you for that,” she mumbled. “Helping me learn to ride a bike, I mean. And I’m sorry about what happened after. I always wanted to tell you that but I knew my dad would kill me if he caught me talking to you again.”
“What about now? Isn’t he gonna be mad to find out you’re here?”
She shrugged. “I’m leaving and I don’t guess he’s gonna figure out I was here before.”
Jack studied her face. She knew she wasn’t very pretty—not like her sister Josie. She had freckles and she burned more than she tanned and she was short.
He held up a bag. “I have sandwiches,” he said gruffly. “You want one?”
It hadn’t been much of an invitation, but she’d clung to it all the same, accepting the food and sitting cross-legged on the cot while he’d taken the chair. She’d stayed with him that day. For the rest of the summer they’d spent their afternoons together. They’d talked and read books and talked some more. The following summer Jack had given her her first kiss in the line shack. By the time she turned fifteen, they were in love.
Katie shook her head and brought herself back to the present. Loving Jack had been one of the best parts of growing up, she thought. He’d been gentle and kind and supportive. Not to mention gorgeous. There’d been a time when she’d known everything about him. She’d thought they would be together always. Now, eleven years later, he was a stranger. A ghost from her past.
What had happened to change things, she wondered. Time? Distance? Different lives? Did it matter? She should let the past go. Or maybe just lay those ghosts to rest, she thought as she urged her horse forward and headed for the line shack.
Jack stood in the center of the single room. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been here, nor did he know why he’d come today. He had plenty of work waiting for him on the ranch, and stopping at the line shack was just a waste of time.
Still, he’d been drawn by forces he couldn’t explain. Was it knowing that Katie was going to be living at the house? Or was it that being around her had reminded him of the past?
He walked to the unfinished boards he’d nailed up for bookcases. As he touched the dusty spines of the books, he remembered each story. He heard echoes of conversation and laughter. As a teenager, this had been his sanctuary…and hers. Together they’d talked about hopes and dreams for the future. They’d fallen in love while having earnest conversations and gazing into each other’s eyes. On the battered old cot in the corner, he’d lain next to her and learned the feel of her body next to his. He’d discovered curves and scents, touching her through her clothing and once, only once, reaching under her shirt and stroking her bare breasts. They’d kissed and wanted and ached, but they’d never made love. Back then he would have assumed they would be each other’s first time—he would have been wrong.
A creak caught his attention. He turned and saw Katie standing in the doorway of the line shack. She was only a silhouette, but he recognized her shape. He waited, not saying anything. He wasn’t sure if he was pleased to see her or not. When she’d first returned to town he’d been confident that she would never be a part of his life. Now she was living at the ranch and invading his thoughts. He knew the danger of caring about her. How many times was he going to have learn that lesson before he got it right?
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
She laughed. “At least this time you didn’t swear at me.”
He frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“The first time you found me here you wanted to know what the hell I was doing here. So there’s been an improvement. In time you might even be happy to find me here.”
He wanted to tell her that was never going to happen, but he was no longer sure about anything. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?”
She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “The same reason you are. I want to touch the past…maybe for the last time.” She walked around the small room, then moved next to him and, as he’d done, traced the spines of the books.
She wore jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and worn boots. Despite the two-inch heel on the latter, she barely came up to his shoulder. He could easily rest his chin on her head and feel her blond curls tickling his neck. How many times had he done so in the past? Fifty? A hundred? He would walk up behind her and put his arms around her. She would lean into him. She’d been small and feisty, and holding her had felt so damned right.
She looked at him, her blue eyes wide and expressive. “In some ways this feels like just last week or last month. It can’t have been eleven years since I was out here.”
“I don’t get out here much, either.”
“I’m not surprised. What had been an escape for you turned into our place. You wouldn’t have been comfortable here on your own. Too many memories.”
He wanted to protest. She wasn’t right about him. He hadn’t missed her when she’d left. Except he had. He’d missed her so much he hadn’t known how he was going to make it. Emotions battered at the wall around his heart. He shoved them back in
place. No way was Katie going to get to him again.
She picked up a slender volume of poetry and smiled. “You were my best friend. And the best part of my life. You made growing up wonderful.”
He didn’t know what to say. He refused to admit the same, even though it was true.
“I’ve often thought one of the reasons we were drawn together was that we each lost a parent at a vulnerable time in our lives,” she continued as if she hadn’t expected him to comment. “Your dad disappeared, my mom died.” She paused and frowned. “In fact they both happened in June, but a year apart. I never thought about that before.”
He hadn’t, either. For some reason that seemed significant. “We didn’t become friends for another couple of years,” he said. “We were both over it by then.”
“No,” she told him, moving to the cot and taking a seat. He saw that she’d left plenty of room for him, but he didn’t join her.
“I’m still not over my mom’s death,” she said. “I’m not saying I can’t function without her or that I haven’t moved on, but I still miss her. I think of her every Christmas and I always remember her birthday.” She smiled sadly. “I wanted her to see Shane when he was born and to be around to call when life got really scary. Suzanne’s been great and I’m lucky to have had her in my life, but she’ll never be my mother.”
“Yeah, well, I got over my dad running off.” He crossed to the small, cracked window and stared out at the land that had belonged to his family for generations. He didn’t understand women’s desire to poke at the past. Some things were better left buried.
“It sounds good, Jack, but no one believes you. Least of all me. You can’t tell me you don’t still miss him from time to time.”
He turned to face her. She looked at him with the same innocence she’d shown at thirteen. All trusting and open, like a puppy who adored everyone. He reminded himself that she’d been the only one to provide him a safe haven. After his father had left, he’d been ashamed. He’d continued to do well in school and sports just to show the world it didn’t matter, but in his heart he’d felt hollow and small.
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