He was pretty sure, anyway.
“By the time I change it’ll be close to this guy’s bedtime. No point in coming back over only to leave ten minutes later.”
Her eyes narrowed. Because he was a lousy liar. And nobody knew that better than Dee.
But all she did was grab their bowls and tromp back to the kitchen, one hopeful dog at her heels. “Let me pack some of this up for you, then—”
“You don’t have to—”
“I can’t possibly eat it all, Josh. It’ll just go to waste.”
“Okay.” He swallowed. “Thanks.”
A few painful minutes later she handed him a bag bulging with plastic containers, as well as a cake carrier with most of the cake, before walking him to the back door, rubbing her belly. A gust of frigid air swept in when he opened it; boy and dog streaked off toward the foreman’s house.
“Well. ’Night—”
“All I wanted,” Dee then said in a small, brittle voice, “was to be useful. Helpful. To do something good for somebody else. For you. And Austin. But mainly for you. Because I’m long overdue saying thank you.”
“For...what?”
“Being my friend when we were kids. Because you didn’t have to do that.” Her eyes veered to his, their brown depths bottomless in the half light. “So what’d I do wrong now?”
“Nothing,” he said quietly, looking away.
“You sure?”
“Positive,” he said, screwing his hat back on before walking out into cold night, feeling like crap and not having clue one what to do about it. Because whether his fears were valid or not, the idea of somebody else suffering for them wasn’t sitting well. Wasn’t until later that night, after he’d cleaned more frosting off Austin than there’d been on the cake and gotten him tucked into bed, that he remembered his promise to Zach, to handle the shower.
Standing at the front window looking toward the Big House, Josh sighed, making Thor come up to lick his hand, wanting to make it better. Maybe one of these days, Josh thought as he stroked the dog’s smooth head, life would be easy. Or at least, easier.
But he wasn’t counting on it.
Chapter Five
By the week before Thanksgiving, winter was teasing northern New Mexico with longer and more frequent visits. Cold, white stuff had fallen from the sky more days than it hadn’t, although rarely hard enough to close school. Just enough to turn the countryside into a sparkly winter wonderland and for the ski resort to open early, much to the town’s delight. Since, Deanna remembered, a longer season meant more tourists traipsing through town and subsequently more moola trickling into Whispering Pines’ coffers.
So between the weather and the various worker bees readying the house for sale this was the first chance she’d had to reacquaint herself with the little village she’d called home once upon a time, its shops and little galleries, the quaint town plaza that would shortly wear its holiday finery, every pathway and roof lined with luminarias on Christmas Eve.
She’d have a baby by then, she realized, the thought zinging through her like a jolt of electricity. Although whether or not she and Josh would have mended things between them, she had no idea. A thought that, on top of Gus’s departure a couple of days before, made her very sad. And lonely, truth be told.
Brushing snow off her head and shoulders, Deanna hurried into Annie’s Place, the only eating establishment in town that catered to locals more than touristas. The fare was time-honored and hearty and heartily chile-infested—red, green or that combination of both known in New Mexico as “Christmas”—and as soon as Deanna entered she felt catapulted back in time. The classic diner decor, if you could call it that, hadn’t changed one iota from when she and Josh would come in as kids, for burgers and fries and shakes as thick as cement. Smells were the same, too, mouthwateringly spicy and greasy and perfect, she thought on a smile as she unwrapped herself from her shawl and slid into a booth next to a window facing the plaza.
She recognized the waitress from the memorial, as the blonde apparently did her, her bright blue eyes sympathetic as she set down a glass of water, along with a straw and a menu large enough to shelter a stadium. “I’m Val,” she said with a bright grin, yanking an order pad out of the pocket of the black apron allowing little more than a peek of a boldly striped sweater, tight blue jeans. “Levi’s wife?”
“I know, I remember. Although I didn’t realize you worked here—”
“Only the lunch rush these days. Although today’s crazy slow, for some reason.” Still smiling, Val nodded toward the menu. “You need a minute?”
“Actually, no,” Deanna said, handing back the menu. “Green chili cheeseburger, well done. Double order of fries, chocolate shake.”
Humor danced in Val’s eyes. “Anything else?”
“As if I’ll ever be able to eat all of that,” Deanna said, and Val released the chuckle she’d clearly been holding in.
She called out the order to the bald black dude behind the counter, then turned back to Deanna. “Josh told us, about you being grounded here. I’m so sorry. About everything. I know what it’s like, when life throws you for a loop.”
Deanna imagined she did, since Val’s first husband had died while deployed to Afghanistan, leaving her a widow with two small children. Definitely put her own situation in perspective. But all she said was, “Thanks. I didn’t really know Tomas,” she said gently. “But Levi’s a good guy. Crazy as a loon, but good.”
Val chuckled. “True on both counts. My girls and I are very blessed—”
“And it’s about time you dragged your skinny butt in here!” Annie called out, sweeping across the restaurant to haul Deanna out of the booth and against her skinny chest, only to then gift her with the Annie Stink Eye underneath a messy updo that was grayer than Deanna remembered. “What? You think you’re too good for us now?”
“Not hardly,” Deanna said, laughing. “But I’ve been insanely busy, getting the house ready to sell. It’s taking a lot more time than Josh and I had expected.”
It was fleeting, granted, but the disapproval that flashed across both women’s faces made her immediately regret mentioning an obviously sore subject. Even though they had to see that without her father, the Vista was only a ranch. A place. A thing. Then again, she knew that tradition was often what held little rural communities like this together, that what some people might call progress others saw as a threat. But then, as if reading her thoughts, the older woman took Deanna’s hands in hers, her freckled skin so pale as to be almost translucent.
“Change is never easy,” she said softly as Val left to tend to her other customers. “But I know you and Josh will do what’s best. Well. That husband of mine’ll have your food ready in a jiffy. It’s so good to see you, Dee.” She gave Deanna’s hands a quick squeeze. “You’ve been missed.”
Missed? Deanna thought as she wedged herself and her little passenger back in the booth. Since she’d never felt much like a real part of the community as a kid, she somehow doubted it. She did wonder, though, why she’d never really felt connected to the place her father had obviously loved with his whole heart and soul. What made her feel so itchy now, fighting that same trapped feeling that had plagued her adolescence?
And yet—her gaze drifted out the window, toward the little square where a half-dozen toddlers, under the watchful eye of their caregivers, were having a ball in a small playground that hadn’t been there before—her life back east this past little while hadn’t exactly been all that, either, had it? Obviously not, if she’d been so quick to grab at a Something More that turned out to be nothing at all.
As her other customers headed out, Val brought Deanna her order. Along with, apparently, a side order of conflicted, since the waitress seemed hesitant to leave after setting down Deanna’s food. Grasping her burger, Deanna looked up at Josh’s sister-in-law
.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, not at all. It’s just...well, I was wondering if you’d like company. Except then I thought if I asked and you didn’t, then you might feel obligated to say yes, just to be polite. And how awkward would that be?”
“I’d love company,” Deanna said, smiling. “And no, I’m not just saying that to be polite.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. The funny thing is,” she said as Val slid into the booth across from her, “I used to think I was a loner. Probably because I was an only child so I was used to it—”
“Yeah? Me, too. And please, dig in. Before the fries get cold.”
Deanna took a bite of her burger, savoring the exquisite little explosions of green chile bliss on her tongue. “But there’s a difference between needing alone time and feeling cut off from the world.”
“You talking about then? Or now?”
Heh. She’d set herself up for that one, hadn’t she? Never mind how gently Val had asked the question. Angry with herself for coming perilously close to dumping on someone she didn’t even know, for godssake, Deanna stabbed her fry into that puddle of ketchup, hot tears pricking at her eyes.
“Sorry.”
“For what?”
Unable to speak—let alone eat—Deanna shook her head.
“Hey.” Val stretched across the table to clamp a warm hand around Deanna’s wrist, her eyes full of Don’t mess. “You’re pregnant and your daddy just passed and you’re stuck someplace I’m guessing you don’t really want to be. I’m also guessing you have no idea what comes next. So you clearly need to talk to somebody.” She leaned back again, crossing her arms over her stomach. “And right now that somebody’s me.”
“But—”
“Oh, hell, honey—why’d you think I came over here?”
Fighting a smile and tears, both, Deanna grabbed her napkin and blew her nose. “Because you’re nosy?”
At that, the blonde belted out a laugh far too loud for somebody that tiny. “I’d be lying if I said no. But like I said, I’ve also been where you are. Not exactly the same circumstances, but feeling like your whole world’s just imploded? Hell, yeah. And I was pretty cut off, too, as a kid. Again, different reasons. Still. I know what it’s like, needing to talk to somebody before your brain melts. For me it was Annie,” she said, nodding over her shoulder at the older woman, chatting with a slightly grizzled-looking, bearded man at the counter. “In fact, if it hadn’t been for her I doubt I would’ve survived my teen years. Before I met Tommy, anyway. And of course now poor Levi gets the brunt of my emotional upchucking—” smiling a little, Deanna finally stuffed that fry in her mouth “—but it rolls right off his back. Then again, that’s how the Talbots are. All of ’em. Listeners. Real good ones, too.”
Deanna tried the shake, but it needed to melt a little before she could actually drink it. “True. In fact, I used to bend poor Josh’s ear something awful when we were kids.”
“So Levi said. And now?”
Blowing a short laugh through her nose, Deanna poked a crisp fry in the blonde’s direction. “And now we come to the real reason for this little chat,” she said, which got another brief chuckle.
“What I said, about knowing how you feel? Meant every word of it. But, you’re right, Levi’s also concerned about Josh. It’s a twin thing, apparently.”
“No, it’s a Talbot thing.”
“That, too.”
Deanna’s own smile faded as she sighed. “I know Josh doesn’t really want to sell the Vista. And I completely understand why. So now I get to add guilt to all the other crap in my head.”
A moment passed before Val got up to get herself a cup of coffee from behind the counter, then brought it back, stirring in enough cream and sugar to turn it into basically hot ice cream. “Actually Josh hasn’t said much to Levi about it, although we can guess how he feels. But to be honest, I’m of two minds about all of this. On the one hand, heck, he’s never lived anyplace else. So of course he’s attached to the Vista. On the other...”
Val sipped her coffee, then squinted out the window, cradling the stoneware mug in her hands before facing Deanna again. “It wouldn’t be a bad thing, either, for him to start over somewhere that would be completely his from the get-go. Make his own name from his own operation, rather than continuing to live in your father’s shadow. Although this is strictly between you and me, since it’s not exactly a popular opinion.”
“Pretty much what I said to him, actually. But why are you telling me this?”
After another sip, Val set down the mug, staring at it for a long moment before lifting her eyes again. “Because I think this is fixing to blow up in everybody’s face, and since my husband is part of that ‘everybody’ I’d like it all to work out without too many hurt feelings.”
“In other words, they all think I’m the bad guy for wanting to sell.”
“Didn’t say that—”
“Didn’t have to.” Deanna pushed out a sigh. “I can’t afford to hang on to some place where I’m not even going to live. As wobbly as my life might feel right now, I know I can rebuild it. There, not here. Because I simply can’t see...” Her gaze returning to the square, with all those little kids running around and laughing, she huffed out another, much more aggravated breath. “I almost wish Dad had left it all to Josh.”
“No, you don’t,” Val said, so sharply Deanna looked back at her. “Your first duty is to that child. If selling the ranch means ensuring her future, then nothing else matters. Being a single mom is hard. I should know. And what anybody else thinks...tough.”
Deanna was stunned. “You’re really not on their side?”
Val smirked. “I’m on the side of whatever happening that’s best for all concerned. Especially when a baby’s involved. Besides, Josh is a big boy, he’ll figure it out. And get over it. Speaking of whom...he said the renovation’s gotten more involved than you guys had hoped? Something about the home inspection turning up a bunch of problems?”
Still reeling from the idea of having possibly found an ally, Deanna’s mouth pulled tight. A few little tweaks, the designer had said. The vintage look will work to your advantage, she’d said. Some paint, some furniture rearrangements, boom.
Boom was right.
“Lead pipes,” Deanna breathed out. “’Nuff said.”
“Ouch. But the more that gets fixed, the higher price you’ll get. Right?”
“In theory, anyway.”
“So there you go. And again, Josh will deal. Since it’s not like he has any choice.”
Maybe not. However...
Crap. Everything told her not to go where her brain was yanking her like an overeager puppy. But talking about Josh and the house naturally led to her thinking about his bizarre reaction the night of the dinner fiasco, as if he’d come face-to-face with something he hadn’t realized was lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce. Whether Val was the right person to talk to about it, Deanna wasn’t entirely sure, but she was here and seemingly available. As opposed to Josh, who for obvious reasons couldn’t be her go-to person anymore. Not about this, anyway. Or Emily, up to her eyeballs in wedding planning—
“Do you have any idea what happened between Josh and Austin’s mother?”
Val’s brows lifted. “He hasn’t told you?”
“No. Which is weird since he’s all about being honest and open and stuff.”
That got another laugh. “When it suits his purpose, most likely. Like most men. Unfortunately I’m not sure how many blanks I can fill in. I know what Levi told me, but I don’t really know how much Josh shared with him. Or how much of that Levi shared with me.” Val crossed her arms again. “Why? What’s going on with you two? Aside from the house stuff, I mean.”
So Deanna told Val about Josh’s abrupt departure the o
ther night, about how every time she’d offered to watch Austin since then, he’d give her a polite but insistent, “Thanks, but I’ve got it covered.”
Frowning, Val snitched a fry from Deanna’s plate. “Okay...” she said slowly, “after I came back to Whispering Pines with the girls, and Josie immediately latched on to Levi when he started hanging around...” Chewing, she glanced out the window, then back at Deanna. “I might’ve lit into him at one point, so afraid she’d get attached and then he’d decide he’d fulfilled his duty to Tommy—they were best friends, did you know?” Deanna shook her head. “Yeah. Anyway, they enlisted at the same time, and Tommy made Levi promise...” She swallowed. “He made Levi promise to check up on me and the girls if anything happened. Which I didn’t know. So when he showed up, I wasn’t entirely sure what his motive was. And frankly I don’t think Levi did either, at the time. In any case, my daughter had been through enough, losing her daddy. That last thing I wanted was for her to get hurt. Again.”
“So you think Josh feels the same way about Austin.”
“I don’t know for sure. Obviously. But it makes sense, right?”
It did. Especially since the very thought had occurred to Deanna one night when she’d gotten up for the umpteenth time to pee and her defenses were down along with her panties. She did remember, however, letting out a little “Oh...” and the cat meowing back at her in reply, as if to say, Took you long enough, dimwit.
Deanna sighed. Since God knew she understood how it felt to have all the responsibility for another human being dumped in your lap. “Although Austin wouldn’t even remember his mother leaving, would he? Gus said he was still a baby—”
“No,” Val said slowly, snagging another fry when Deanna pushed the plate toward her. “But Josh remembers. Besides, the little guy’s older now...”
The last part of Val’s sentence faded into the roar inside Deanna’s head, where the first part painfully, and persistently, echoed.
The Rancher's Expectant Christmas Page 7