CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“I THOUGHT YOU weren’t much of a stargazer.”
Tess barely caught the glass of Scotch that went airborne as she jumped out of her skin. “Samantha! Oh, my gosh, you scared me!”
Her friend plunked herself down in one of the Adirondack chairs that surrounded the small fire Tess had made in her fire pit. “Jack had a meeting in town and I came with him. I called you but you didn’t answer.”
“My phone’s inside.”
“So you could sit out here and drink alone? Tess, you always have your phone. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know... Maybe the stars are growing on me.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m always okay, Sam. Don’t you worry about me.” She’d been sitting out here thinking about all the lies and stories she’d told for years, to her friends, colleagues, everyone. The weight of them was oppressive. Here was her best friend, who had no idea that Tess had been abused by her parents, raised in foster homes and had a baby at sixteen.
And then there was the fictional backstory she’d created. Not purposely... It had just happened over time, as a result of those casual questions friends and colleagues ask each other all the time. Questions that Tess never wanted to answer truthfully because the truth was so depressing.
So when people asked where her parents lived, she’d started saying “New England” instead of “I don’t know.” When someone asked what her childhood was like she answered “great” and “fun.” And from that false foundation, a rickety house of other, lies were built up. Fictional schools, family vacations, pets and, just the other night, Halloween traditions.
She’d never meant to lie, but what choice did she have when most people really didn’t want to hear the sordid truth? And she didn’t want to see the look in their eyes when they did.
“Seriously, ever since you got here, you’ve been distant. Different.”
Tess sighed. “I guess there’s something about this part of the world that makes you think, you know?”
“What have you been thinking about?”
Tess took another sip of her Scotch and for one, brief moment, contemplated telling Samantha everything. But their friendship was already on shaky ground—if she revealed her lies it might totally fall apart. “Do you ever wish you were different than you are? I mean, if I could change myself right now, I might.”
“You’re perfect!” Samantha protested. “You’re Tess. I wouldn’t want you to be anyone else. What would you want to change?”
“I’d want to be braver. More willing to take a risk.” She stared at the blue center of the flames. “I feel like everyone is evolving, but I’m still exactly the same. First you moved away, and now Jenna is busy with Sandro and her ballroom. I think I’m stuck.”
“You could get unstuck.”
Tess sighed again. “It’s not that simple.”
“Maybe the right person will get you unstuck.”
Tess immediately thought of Slaid and doubted Samantha’s theory. He was the one making her feel the most stuck. “I don’t know. I think I’m just incapable of relationships. I’ve kept people at a distance for so long that now, when I might want to let them get closer, I don’t even know how to do it.”
Samantha watched her for a moment. “Do you want some advice?”
“Sure.”
“Stop running away.”
“I don’t run!” Tess protested. “I’m always up for a challenge.”
“You are professionally, sure. But in your personal life? When you get uncomfortable, you disappear.”
And then Tess understood. “You’re talking about us. Because we haven’t seen each other as much as we thought we would when I first got here.”
“Partly, yeah,” Samantha answered softly.
“It’s hard. You’re my best friend, but we’re disagreeing over the windmills.”
“It’s more than the windmills,” Samantha said. “It feels as though you might be uncomfortable with me because I’m having a baby.”
Tess realized maybe she wasn’t quite as good of an actress as she liked to think. “No, of course not!” she said. “It’s just that you and Jack, well, you’re such a couple. And in the city I spend a lot of time with Jenna and Sandro, and they’re so happy and in love. I think I’m spending too much time with couples. Maybe I’m jealous.”
“But we don’t care if you’re a part of a couple or not. We just want to spend time with you.”
“I’ll make more of an effort,” Tess promised. “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt your feelings.”
“You’re really not upset about the baby?”
How could she possible answer with complete honesty? No way would she spoil Samantha’s joy with her past mistakes. “Well, sometimes I worry that things will change even more. But logically I know it will be fine.”
“I can understand,” Samantha said. “But please let me know what I can do to help. I miss my friend, Tess.”
The hurt behind Samantha’s words made Tess’s heart ache. Samantha was an incredible friend—kind, funny, loyal and so good to her. They’d started off their careers together, helped each other, coached each other.
And now that friendship was in trouble. Samantha would never come here to talk like this if she wasn’t really upset.
Tess stared at the flames, watching sparks pop off the dry wood. She was worse than stuck. She was so mired in the pain of her past that it was threatening the few friendships she’d managed to develop. All the independence she’d needed to survive, all the fear and shame made her push people away. Suddenly, getting unstuck didn’t seem like something Tess might do, but rather something she had to do. She wanted her friends. She wanted to be able to be a good godmother. She wanted Slaid.
She took a sip of Scotch for courage. “You’re right, I do run away. And I don’t want to anymore.”
“I’d love that,” Samantha said, and even in the dim light Tess saw her wide smile. “I’m happy to help in any way I can.”
“I think it’s something I have to work out.” She’d find a way. She’d been through a lot in her past, but she didn’t want to let it dictate what she could or couldn’t do now. She didn’t want to be on the run from it anymore.
Samantha yawned.
“Oh, no, we’ve finally had a heart-to-heart and you’re bored!” Tess was only half joking.
Samantha giggled. “No. I’m so glad we can talk, and I’m not bored at all. Quite the opposite! But I am sleepy. I guess things really are changing. The night is young and all I want to do is go to bed.”
Tess walked Samantha through the house and gave her a hug at the door. “Thanks for coming over here and talking to me. I’ll try to do better.”
“Let’s just trust that no windmill, or baby, is going to ruin our friendship.”
Samantha started up the walk and unlatched the gate, and then she turned. “And it’s none of my business, but if you really do want to let people get closer to you, I know one very handsome mayor who’d really like to do just that.”
Tess blushed like a teenager and was glad her friend couldn’t see it in the dark. “Just because I’m gonna try to be a better friend doesn’t mean you get to matchmake,” she teased.
“Can’t blame me for trying,” Samantha called as she opened the door of her SUV. “You two would be awfully cute together!”
Tess shut her front door and went back outside to put water on the coals. She felt relieved that she and Samantha had talked, but nervous, as well. It was one thing to announce that you were going to change, but it was another thing to actually do so. And she knew that as long as she kept her past hidden away and relied on lies, there would always be walls between her and the people she loved.
She wished she could just put herself out there, tell the world her story and damn the consequences. But she wasn’t like that. She had no idea how to be like that.
She turned off the hose and stepped away from the fire pit’s billowing smoke. At the
edge of the patio, far from the glow of the kitchen window, the stars looked even brighter in the black sky. They unnerved her with their infinite numbers, with their reminder that she was on this spinning planet sailing through space, and pretty much nothing was under her control. But tonight that knowledge was exhilarating, as well. She’d been trying to keep her life under such tight control for so long. Maybe it was time to accept the futility of that, to loosen her grip and just see what happened.
* * *
SLAID LOOKED AROUND the crowded bar. Most people at The High Country were intent on the football game, and usually Slaid would be, as well. But tonight he’d come here to meet Jack because they’d hit a dead end. Every finance company they talked to, every politician they got a meeting with had the same answer for them. No. Either they were in the pockets of the big energy companies who were reluctant to support residential solar panels or they were allied with Renewable Reliance. Slaid had a dream last night that the hills around town were bristling with windmills. He was glad to wake up from it, and just hoped he hadn’t suddenly started having premonitions.
Jack had been fiddling with a bottle cap on the bar. Flipping it over and over with his index finger, deep in thought. Then he spoke. “I’ll pay.”
“You’ll pay?” Slaid echoed. “Jack, we’re talking about tens of thousands of dollars. Possibly hundreds of thousands, depending on the number of folks who can’t afford to cover their costs.”
“It’s worth it,” Jack said quietly. “This area is home and it’s precious. There’s nothing like it. I talked with Samantha last night and she agrees.”
“But what if Tess finds out that you and Samantha are providing the money?”
Jack sighed. “Well, if she does—which she probably will—friendship should go beyond this stuff. She must know deep down that we’re doing the right thing. She’s just focused on winning right now.”
“I don’t know what to say. This is a totally personal question, but how the hell did you make so much money? It can’t be from horse training.”
“I wasn’t always a horse trainer. I worked in finance. And I’ve had a lot of luck with stocks and some other investments.”
“Well, it’s an incredible offer, but I’d hate to drain your bank account. Let’s keep looking for funding but if you’re serious about doing this, we could use your money to get some of the panels ordered and installed sooner rather than later. The public hearing is coming up. We don’t have much time to get this done.” He paused, studying his friend. “If you’re sure.”
“Completely sure. I’ll call my accountant in the morning.” Jack glanced at the clock and drained his beer. “I’d better get going if I want to spend any time with my wife before she falls asleep. If I didn’t know she was pregnant, I’d think she was hibernating.”
“Let me get the tab,” Slaid told him. “It’s the least I can do.” After Jack left, Slaid ordered another beer. He wasn’t ready to head home yet. Devin was with his cousin for the night. After a few days of his son being grumpy and grounded due to the fight at football practice, Slaid was grateful for the night off.
He had to remind himself how far Devin had come from the scared and angry kid he’d adopted. He still had a temper, but it no longer showed itself at random times. There was some relief in knowing that his fight at school a few days ago had at least been provoked. But he had to find a way to help Devin get control over his reactions—he knew things would only get harder over the next few years as more teenage hormones came into play.
He wished he could talk to Tess about it. He had no idea what she’d said to his son. Devin had been closemouthed about it and Slaid hadn’t wanted to pry. But Devin had eventually confessed, a couple days later, that he needed a reprieve from being grounded so he could fix the fence he’d apparently broken. Slaid had been a little miffed that Tess had lied to cover what Devin had done, but he could see why she had. She was letting Devin make it right on his own.
He’d looked for Tess all week but hadn’t seen her. It made him crazy because people around him certainly had. Betty Watkins had provided morning muffins for one of Tess’s video screenings at the library. Slaid deemed it a brilliant move on Tess’s part, as Betty’s baking was famous in the area. Betty had told him that while she didn’t support the windmills, Tess sure was a lovely girl to hang around with.
His sister, Mara, had chatted with Tess at the bank for a while, and Devin’s science teacher had mentioned that he’d invited her to visit his classes to discuss alternative energy. Todd, who ran a machine shop in town and a mustang sanctuary on the side, had had a long talk with Tess after one of her video presentations and was flattered that she’d praised how well he’d trained Slaid’s horse Wendy. Jed Watkins had filled him in on Tess’s presentation to the local Cattlemen’s Association—a meeting Slaid hadn’t been able to attend because he’d been home with his grounded son. Seems she’d persuaded them to draft some kind of resolution supporting the compatibility of grazing and wind power, even if they weren’t quite ready to come out and say they actually supported the project. She must have worked some serious magic to make that happen.
It seemed as if everyone in town had spent time with Tess this week. Everyone but him. But ever since he’d seen her with Devin a few days ago, he’d had this flicker of hope. There’d been something between them in that brief moment, an easy intimacy that had him wondering if maybe they had a chance after all.
“Here you go, Slaid.”
He looked up, surprised to see Selma Logan, owner of the bar, setting the pint on the counter in front of him. “Where’s your hired help tonight, Sel?”
“I gave them the night off to make banners for the parade.”
“The holiday parade? Isn’t it a little early?”
“No, this is for the parade the day of the big public hearing. Over the windmills. Hasn’t anyone mentioned it? We were going to put it on the agenda for the council meeting next week. The publicity subcommittee’s been putting it together.”
“I knew they were thinking about a small rally, but a parade?”
“Isn’t it a great idea? And it’s really taking off. We’ve connected with a bunch of hiking and camping groups out in San Francisco and Oakland, and they got in touch with local activists out there. Now they’ve chartered buses to bring people out here to protest the windmills. It’ll be quite a sight!”
“Well, make sure you apply for all the permits. And you’ll need to find somewhere for all these folks to stay. The fairgrounds, maybe? You could set up a campground. Get some portable toilets. Work with the sheriff, too, okay?”
“Yeah, we’ll talk more about it at the meeting. I’d better serve these folks over at the other end.” Selma walked off and Slaid took a big gulp of his beer. A town full of activists would definitely bring in the media. It would be chaos, but what a great idea. The more people, the more publicity. The more publicity, the less chance of the windmills getting built.
Tess would be upset, and he knew he should tell her—give her a warning so she could prepare. Then he remembered the harvest festival. She hadn’t given him any warning when she’d turned it into a pro–wind farm event. Maybe he wasn’t obligated to say anything, but he wanted to. Despite all her insistence that she didn’t need anyone’s help, he felt protective of her. He was caught between wanting to keep her safe from unpleasant surprises and wanting her windmills to fail.
Slaid took another drink and tried to focus on the football game on the TV. Since when did he have to try to focus on football? Truth was, tonight he didn’t want beer and he didn’t want football. He wanted Tess.
He threw his money on the counter and left his beer half-drunk. It took less than ten minutes to walk across town to her house. He thought the night air might clear his head and remind him that she’d sent him packing the last time they’d been together. But it didn’t. If anything, the sharp autumn air, the stars rippling in the black sky made his desire for her more clear, brought all the reasons and ways
that he wanted her into sharp focus.
He saw a light on somewhere in her house, but it was ten o’clock. She might be asleep. Fortunately Slaid was past good manners, past trying to be the nice guy, the polite guy. He was just a guy who wanted Tess, more than he’d ever wanted anything else. He knocked softly on her door.
* * *
THE KNOCK ON her front door was low, but it jolted Tess out of her thoughts. As she pushed herself up from her chair, she realized how stiff she was. She glanced at the clock over the stove, shocked to see that it was almost ten. She’d been staring out the kitchen window for an hour.
The soft knock came again and she walked to the front of the cottage. Glancing through the window she saw Slaid, shoulders hunched under his shearling jacket, collar drawn up against the wind. She opened the door. “Slaid, are you okay? You—”
He didn’t let her finish. Just stepped inside, put his hands on her shoulders and held her while he kissed her. Tangled his fingers in her hair and kissed her harder. Walked forward, forcing her backward, until she hit the wall opposite the front door. He tasted of beer and smelled like fresh air. He didn’t stop kissing her, not to breathe or explain.
She’d stopped them before, but she couldn’t stop this now. Not when she’d been sitting here with her loneliness and regret. She reached her hands up behind his head, fingers slipping easily through his short, silky hair. He was tall and massive and dwarfed her with his big hands that had slid down and were spanning her waist, moving downward to cover her ass and pull her toward him.
She moaned against his mouth and brought her own hands down to yank his shirt from the waist of his jeans, to feel the warmth of his skin. She slid her hands up his sides and over his back, feeling him shudder under her touch.
He broke their kiss and looked down at her, thumbs sliding across her cheekbones, his gray eyes intent on hers. “I know I spend a lot of time apologizing and here I go again. I’m sorry you were so upset about our date last weekend.”
She could only nod. Her vocabulary was limited to adjectives. Gray eyes, full, serious mouth, steel muscles where her hands cradled his biceps.
Convincing the Rancher Page 18