“Are you talking about survivor guilt?” Tessa shrugged. “Don’t people often feel guilty when they’re alive and someone they love isn’t?”
A bleak look crossed Clay’s face and there was a flash of pain in his dark eyes. “Not just someone you love. You can feel that way about somebody you barely knew.”
Suddenly tired, Tessa leaned against the door frame. “I didn’t mean you, Clay.”
“I know, but I do feel guilty. I was in charge, I should have been able to save her. Somehow. I’ve gone over that day a thousand times in my head, trying to think if there was anything I could have done differently.”
The admission was startling. Not because he felt that way, but because he’d said it out loud. “Well, stop it,” she ordered. “You aren’t a superhero.”
He looked startled. “I’m not claiming to be, but you said you were angry about what happened. It’s logical to think you’re angry at me.”
Tessa shifted restlessly. “Maybe in the beginning, but I never wanted to heap guilt on your head, especially for something that wasn’t your fault. As stupidly illogical as it sounds, I’m mostly angry at Renee for coming up here in the first place. She loved studying in a library, not whitewater rafting. And if she had to come, why didn’t she ask me to go with her?”
Clay shook his head. “She wasn’t your responsibility. You’re an outgoing woman who loves to try new things. Renee seemed far more introverted, so even if she wasn’t competing with you romantically, maybe she felt the need to prove something you didn’t even know about.”
Was he right? Tessa felt a renewed stab of sorrow. She’d never felt the need to compete with her sister, especially since they were so different, but when they were kids, Renee had often tried to turn things into a contest between them.
“Renee was more successful professionally,” Tessa said slowly. “I was working for our parents, while she’d gotten a promotion to associate professor at a private college. A publisher wanted a second book from her because the first one had sold so well. She was really going places.”
“But were you happier?”
Tessa swallowed. “Maybe. I don’t know. How do you measure happiness? I enjoy my life and what I do. It has purpose. I have stress and concerns about the future like most people, but I was happy, and I thought Renee was happy, too. She talked all the time about what she was doing and her plans. It could be hard to get a word in edgewise.”
Molly nosed her way around Clay’s leg. Tessa crouched and gave her a hug, needing the contact with a warm, loving creature. She didn’t know why, but she wished more than anything that she could just sit for an hour with Clay’s arms around her.
She gave another hug to Molly and straightened. “Come in, I want to show you a selfie that Renee sent us a few weeks before the accident.”
Tessa got the phone from her room and accessed the photo of Renee that she kept on her SUV’s sun visor.
* * *
CLAY GAZED AT the picture of Tessa’s sister, memories crowding forward.
“This is how Renee seemed the day of the accident. A little nervous, but determined. I’ve had hundreds of conversations with guests saying they want to challenge themselves. That’s one of the reasons people take these trips. Renee and I spoke before we left and I didn’t see any hint that she had doubts about going on the raft.”
He returned the phone to Tessa and their fingers brushed, sending a warm pulse to his gut—partly from desire, and partly something more. The something more bothered him the most. He had too many responsibilities to consider a relationship, and Tessa was out of bounds, regardless. She was temporary, complicated and had too many reasons not to have confidence in him, despite what she’d said about her sister’s accident.
And yet he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
“I shouldn’t be here,” he said, needing to get out of the bunkhouse. “I’ll ask someone else to go along as support on the trip today. The guests will understand.”
“No, I’d prefer doing it. Tell me about the hike.”
He measured the certainty in her eyes. “It’s an easy one. About three hours of gentle walking this afternoon, and back tomorrow by the middle of the day, with pack animals leaving ahead of us, carrying supplies and belongings. This is one of the few overnight trips where children as young as eight are allowed, so it isn’t strenuous. Daypacks are usual for snacks and beverages and I carry the usual safety items, such as bear spray and a first-aid kit.”
“I’ll get my gear ready. Do you want me to go with the wrangler and pack animals, or hike with the group?”
“Hike with the group. Bring your gear to the staging area at noon. Because of being on the search-and-rescue effort this week, I planned to have someone else lead the outing, then changed my mind. This is one of my favorite trips because we introduce younger kids to the idea of backpacking without it being too difficult for them. I’ll see you later.”
Clay dropped the newspaper on a side table and hurried out.
Before Tessa’s arrival, he’d never gone into the women’s bunkhouse when it was occupied unless repairs were needed. She kept upending his best intentions. He had to remember to call from now on. And when necessary, arrange to meet at a neutral location, like the staging barn or the office.
It would have been smarter to send Tessa with one of the wranglers to deliver supplies and set up camp, but he’d foolishly turned down the option. Self-preservation should have sent him running for the hills the minute she’d kissed him. It wasn’t the kiss itself—he’d kissed his share of women—it was the way he hadn’t wanted it to stop that worried him.
Forever wasn’t a word Clay used in connection with women, yet Tessa kept sending his thoughts there.
When he got to the yard shared by the ranch houses, he unlocked the gate to let Molly inside. She seemed to miss spending more time with him and he regretted the need to leave her with Aunt Emma and Derry. Still, she understood her role as his nephew’s protector.
The ranch house seemed unnaturally quiet when Clay went inside and he looked around, seeing it in a different way than ever before. He’d done little with the place—even the furnishings were minimal. His mother teased whenever she came for a visit, saying it had less comfort and personality than a motel room. She was right, but he spent so little time at the house, what was the point of dressing it up?
Tessa, on the other hand, had added little touches to her temporary home that made it warm and inviting, like a plant on the table and a richly colored blanket on the couch with a Southwest-style pattern.
For a brief instant he wondered what her house in Tucson might look like, then banished the thought.
It would be best to stop thinking about her so much...yet he had a dismal conviction that not thinking about Tessa would be impossible.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IN THE MIDDLE of the afternoon, Jillian took a break, climbing to the loft of the barn above the horses. The ring Andrew had given her swung on the chain around her neck, a constant reminder.
Even in the low light, the rosy shade of the gold glinted and she clenched her teeth. Andy had tried to talk to her last night, probably about the ring again, but there had been too many people around for a private conversation.
He was her friend, and real friends could do and say dumb things without ending friendships, so she needed to get over being miffed and forgive him.
Problem was, she wasn’t entirely sure of why she was annoyed. True, it seemed wasteful and meant that Michael’s ring wasn’t being put to a good use. But, in a way, it had been a relief to finally leave the diamond solitaire in her jewelry box, like a door gently closing on the past.
So why did the new ring bother her?
Jillian settled down and leaned against a bale of hay. The loft was quiet because all of the horses were either out grazing in a pasture, or on trips. Yet almost immediately, her p
hone buzzed in her pocket and she sighed; there went her few minutes of peace. She pulled it out and looked at the display before answering.
“Yes, Mom. Is Dad all right?”
“He’s fine. The doctor says he’s doing extremely well, though he won’t be able to dance at the party. So please stop asking that every time I call, it makes me nervous.”
Mittens had followed Jillian up the steps and jumped onto her thighs. The cat settled down and began purring.
“You didn’t see him go sailing off the barn roof. My heart still stops when I remember. What do you need, Mom? I’ll be home in a few hours.”
“I was hoping you’d ask Andrew and Derry to dinner. I just put a large pot roast in the oven and I’m making a pan of apple dumplings. It’s their favorite and if they don’t come, we’ll have leftovers coming out of our ears.”
Jillian rested her head on a post. “Mom—”
“I’m not trying to push the two of you together,” her mother said quickly. “But we often have Andrew and Derry to dinner. How would it look if they stop coming to see us when everyone believes we’re going to be related?”
Jillian ground her teeth, unable to say what she wanted in case one of the wranglers was downstairs and could overhear. Besides, her mother was right.
“Emma may already have a meal planned.”
“I’ll call to invite her and Lee, too. There’s plenty of food and we can talk about the party. It isn’t that long from now. I want to fix my peanut-butter-cup brownies and several other desserts, but Lee will have his own ideas and I don’t want to step on his toes. Speak to Andrew when he gets back. It would make your father feel better to have company.”
Guilt thumped in Jillian. Dad loved being around people and getting involved in community activities. His convalescence had been hard on him. “All right, I’ll talk to Andrew. Bye, Mom.”
She disconnected and looked down. Mittens was flexing her paws, looking extremely satisfied with herself.
“What do you think?” she whispered, rubbing behind the feline’s ears.
A trilling purr sounded.
“Yeah, I know. It isn’t your problem.”
She waited another few minutes, then put Mittens on the floor and went down the steps.
Because of Mallory’s comments about him being away from home overnight, Andrew was only leading day trips, though he preferred doing the longer ones. He was an easygoing guy, except where his son’s well-being was concerned. Jillian was just as determined to protect Derry. She’d even marry Andy for real if it came to that.
For real?
Her stomach swooped and then settled. There wasn’t any need to think about marriage as an option. Andrew had never come close to suggesting a marriage of convenience. His ex-wife didn’t have staying power. Once she realized she couldn’t profit out of the situation, she would go back to wherever she’d come from.
Still, was marrying Andy such a terrible idea? There were worse foundations for marriage than friendship.
Jillian went out to one of the pastures, trying to shake the thought from her head. In order to cover needs at both ranches, she’d moved a number of the weaned fillies and colts from her father’s spread to the Carson Double C, along with a creep feeder. Clay didn’t mind and everyone benefited. Guests enjoyed watching her work with them and the weanlings played and grazed with the elder horses, who not only helped to socialize the youngsters, but seemed enlivened by their youthful antics.
Nearly two hours later she saw a group coming around one of the hills. Andrew was so tall and well-built it was easy to spot him, laughing and talking among the others. He was great with guests—even better than Clay, whose intensity could get in the way of his relating to people. Not that she’d ever say that to him. He wasn’t just her employer, he was almost as good a friend as Andy.
She finished with the last filly. Training at this age was primarily a series of activities such as lifting and inspecting their feet so they learned balance and were accustomed to being handled. Also grooming and leading them around by a soft halter, and making sure they didn’t develop bad habits such as biting or striking out with their hooves.
Mahoney Horse Ranch was known for both the weanlings and the fully trained young horses they sold. They had a long waiting list. Her dad had considered expanding when the Carson Double C came up for sale, then decided it was best to keep the operation within a more manageable size. But he felt better about having Clay next door, rather than someone he didn’t know. Good neighbors were important, whether you lived in town or out in the country.
Jillian walked toward the barbecue area. The trips didn’t all conclude at the same time, so there were a variety of entertainments that guests could enjoy when they were waiting for the meal. Options included volleyball, horseshoe, croquet and cornhole, where players pitched sixteen-ounce bags of dried corn at a board with a hole. A modified version of cornhole was available for young children, with smaller bags.
Andy was demonstrating the horseshoe toss. He was an expert and the watchers cheered as he threw three ringers in a row.
Jillian clapped, as well, and he looked over at her with a grin. “Hey, everyone, this is the fiancée I’ve been telling you about.”
“I want to see your ring,” a gray-haired woman exclaimed. Jillian obliged by lifting it on the chain for her to see. “How sweet and romantic,” the guest murmured wistfully. “Andrew mentioned it was an antique, but he didn’t say if it was a family heirloom.”
Jillian met Andrew’s gaze over the woman’s head. He looked wary and she shrugged. It felt strange that he was telling clients about their supposed engagement, but he was probably just practicing for when he was around people who knew them both. Neither of them had much talent at putting up a false front.
“No, not an heirloom.” She slipped the ring from the chain and put it on her finger. “But Andy knows I appreciate Victorian jewelry. I’m the head horse wrangler here at Carson Outdoor Adventures and I worry about damaging the setting, so I try not to wear it when I’m working.”
Andrew put his arm around her shoulders, obviously doing his best to look the part of a pleased and proud fiancé. “She told me my choice wasn’t a complete disaster.”
Jillian narrowed her eyes as she looked up at him. “Don’t put words in my mouth. You said that as a question, and I told you it was beautiful.”
His warm blue-gray eyes twinkled at her. “Ah, now I remember. I’m never going to win a fight once we’re married,” he told the group. “She remembers everything too well.”
A round of chuckles sounded.
“Oh, my, a disagreement. I want a picture of you kissing and making up,” the gray-haired woman said, holding up her phone.
Andy bent and kissed Jillian before she could think of an excuse to duck out of the embrace. She expected both of them to start laughing, the way they’d laughed at Lake McDonald while trying to get a picture, but it was different this time.
Tingles spread through her and she leaned into him, her senses suffused with the scents of the grasses and evergreens he’d been hiking through, and the faint tang of his aftershave. Without thinking, she slid her arms around Andy’s waist and felt the hard muscles of his back beneath her fingers.
When she finally collected enough of her wits to wonder what she was doing, Jillian stepped back and broke the contact.
She summoned a smile and looked at the guest who’d wanted a photo. “I hope you got a good one.”
“I did, and I’m totally envious. Enjoy being young and in love—youth is gone so quickly.”
“Now, Karen, we’re more in love than ever,” her husband reminded her. “And I’m a great kisser. Leastways, that’s what you’ve always told me.”
“True,” Karen agreed. “But remember what we were like at their age? Young love is special.”
“So is a marriage that has laste
d fifty years. That’s right, folks,” her husband said, looking proud, “we’re celebrating our golden anniversary next week. My wife was the prettiest June bride who ever lived and still is. We honeymooned in Glacier National Park at the Lake McDonald Lodge. We’re going luxury this time in a deluxe suite. I’ve always wanted my Karen to have the best.”
Jillian was glad when the chorus of good wishes drew attention away from her and Andy. She didn’t dare focus on him until the guests had drifted away to begin playing horseshoes.
“Sorry,” he whispered and she shrugged, not wanting to show how much the kiss had affected her. He seemed so unaffected that she wanted to douse him with a hose or something equally chilling.
Her reaction was probably just because she’d allowed the thought of marrying him to cross her mind. The congratulations they kept receiving from friends weren’t helping, either. Everyone claimed they’d been expecting an announcement like this for years.
“Mom has invited you and Derry to dinner,” she said, determined to be nonchalant. “She’s calling Emma to invite them, too, in order to discuss the party. Pot roast and apple dumplings are on the menu.”
“Uncle Lee doesn’t like to be away from the ranch barbecue Friday through Sunday, in case he’s needed by the kitchen staff, but Derry and I would love to come. Your mom’s apple dumplings are the best.”
“Talk to Emma first. I don’t want to inconvenience her if she already had plans.”
“I’ll do it now.” Andy turned toward the ranch houses and she sighed, knowing she had to go with him to keep up appearances.
The business of being fake engaged was a whole lot more complicated than she could ever have expected it to be.
* * *
THAT EVENING CLAY sat and watched Tessa telling stories to the three children on the overnight trip. She had a sense of whimsy tempered by practicality, and it crossed his mind that she’d be a wonderful mother. Tessa was different from the women he knew socially. The idea of settling down with her was starting to sound less like a loss of freedom, and more like an adventure. Not that she’d shown any romantic interest in his direction; her kiss had been one of exuberance, not desire.
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