“Does my heart good to see how your appetite has improved since you got home. You’ve put back on a couple pounds, haven’t you?”
“Five, and that’s plenty.”
“Well, you look good.” She glanced over to Will. “Doesn’t Annie look good, Will?”
“Hmm?” Will said. He glanced back and forth at the two women. “Yeah, everything is looking good. The chicken-fried steak is delicious. Any more of these rolls?”
“On the stove,” Rose said. When Will got up, she shook her head and leaned close to Annie. “Don’t mind him. He’s been chomping at the bit all week. Cranky and irritable. Distracted, too. Can’t figure out what’s going on, but I imagine eventually he’ll tell us.”
Annie doubted he’d confide in her. In fact, in the past week they hadn’t even been in the same room together except once or twice, for brief moments.
Yes, she had been avoiding Will.
Or maybe it was the other way around. Was he avoiding her?
Certainly she didn’t have the experience to know how a woman acted after a life-altering kiss by the man she was in love with. Was nonchalance the appropriate response? Annie sighed.
Either way, she ached for him. He’d endured a staggering week at the ranch, every moment filled with a new problem. First one of the tractors broke down out in the north forty and had to be towed to town, then a double booking—Margaret’s error—had to be sorted out.
So if Will seemed a bit preoccupied this week, she understood.
Annie wasn’t sleeping well herself. She lay awake at night worried about Margaret’s threats and the future of the ranch. Will was on precarious ground his first season, and Annie refused to be the straw that would make Will’s dream come tumbling down.
“Did you see that announcement in the paper?” Rose asked.
“What announcement?” Annie asked.
“Lulu Parson’s wedding. She and Howard Reynolds are getting married at the end of the month.”
“That was quick,” Will said, cutting the last of his meat.
“At her age I don’t suppose she has any time to waste,” Rose said.
“I think it’s sweet. I hope we’re invited to the wedding,” Annie said.
“Me, too, so long as we don’t do yoga at the reception.” Rose laughed.
“Speaking of the end of the month,” Annie said, her voice squeaky and off-key. She picked up her tea and took a long swallow, then cleared her throat.
Rose raised her brows.
Will finished chewing and swallowed, eyes on Annie. “Why am I pretty sure you’re fixing to spoil my appetite?”
Ignoring him, she continued. “I’ve made a few decisions and I want to share them with you all.”
Annie took a deep breath, praying for strength. “I’ve decided to accept the short-term medical mission position outside of Mexico City.”
Will dropped his fork. “You agreed to stay and help with the ranch less than a week ago.” He pinned her with his gaze, and the pretty speech she’d planned left her.
“I’m sorry, Will, but I think it’s for the best. And it’s two weeks away.”
“Best for who?” he stated, his intense gaze never leaving her.
If only she could read what was going on in his head, but his expression remained hooded.
“I decided this was too good an opportunity to pass up. And it’s just a short trip.”
“Define ‘short trip,’” he said.
“A one-year commitment with the option to stay longer,” Annie said slowly.
“There’s a flaw in your math. Two weeks is a short trip. Not a year,” he said.
A knock at the front screen door interrupted them. “Anybody home?”
Annie jumped up, grateful for Ryan’s appearance. “Come on in. We’re in here.”
Ryan Jones stuck his head out from around the corner and shot Will an evil grin.
“And what are you doing here? Every time I look up I see your ugly mug.”
“Watch it, Sullivan. I’m giving serious thought to raising my rates. You haven’t gotten my consultation bill on Okie’s delivery yet. I ought to double it since I’ve had to put up with your rotten attitude all week.” Ryan removed his hat. “And since you asked so nicely, Annie invited me for pie.”
Will glared as Ryan smiled at Annie.
“Glad you could stop by, Ryan,” Rose said, sounding for once glad to see the vet. She pulled out the chair between her and Will and set another plate on the table. “Don’t listen to Will. He’s got a burr in his Wranglers tonight. Some folks don’t appreciate what’s in front of them as much as others.”
“Isn’t that the truth, Ms. O’Shea?” Ryan responded, sitting down.
“What are you talking about?” Will asked, glancing at Rose and Ryan, confusion on his face.
“Did you want peach or blackberry? Take your pick,” Rose said.
“Could I have both?” Ryan asked. “No way to choose between two such delicious offerings.” He winked at Annie, who held back a laugh.
“Oh, what a load of cow pies,” Will said, shaking his head.
“A smart man,” Rose said. “He knows how to keep the peace.”
“If he’s so smart, how come he isn’t telling Annie not to go off to Mexico?”
“You decided on Mexico?” Ryan leaned his chair back and looked to Annie.
Annie nodded as she placed clean glasses and a jug of milk on the table. Their eyes connected and Ryan gave her a sad smile of understanding.
“You have to do what your heart tells you. I understand that,” Ryan said.
Will headed for the barn, feeling tied up in knots and not understanding why. Everything seemed to be coming at him at once, and he flat out did not have the time or the energy needed to sort it all out.
In one short week his orderly life had spiraled out of control and he felt powerless. First Margaret. Now Annie.
He blamed himself for what happened with Margaret. He should have set Ed and Margaret straight long ago. Rose was right. They had stepped over the line, and somehow gotten the idea they were running his life and Sullivan Ranch.
Things had been so crazy there hadn’t been a minute to sort out the other night with Annie.
What got into him that night? For the first time in a very long time, he was just a normal guy out with a girl. Not a man with Huntington’s hanging over him. And like an ordinary guy, he gave in to what his heart told him.
What had his heart said that night?
It didn’t matter. He would not allow himself to even explore his feelings for Annie. To go there would be disaster.
Annie above all others deserved better. She deserved a whole man and a home with children.
Not a fifty-fifty man.
The more he thought, the more confused he became. Right or not, Margaret’s words had hit home.
His world had changed in the six short weeks since Annie returned. He wasn’t worried about the ranch, but he wouldn’t do anything to slander Annie’s reputation.
’Course now Annie had taken everything out of his hands by deciding to leave. He couldn’t help but wonder at the timing. Had she made a prayerful decision, or was she running on impulse again? Had Margaret spoken to Annie, too?
“What’s the story, Sullivan?”
Ryan stood next to him at Okie’s stall, arms folded over the gate. Will hadn’t even heard him come into the barn.
“Don’t mess with me, Doc.”
“You need some messing with.” As he spoke Okie came over, recognizing the vet. Ryan pulled a small apple from his pocket and held it in his extended palm for the mare.
Apparently his horse had traded allegiance, too.
“Relax,” Ryan said. “Ms. O’Shea sent me out here. Figured you need a little mano-y-mano.”
“Rose said that?”
“Yep.”
Will burst out laughing, the tension eased by Ryan’s words. “You have no idea what it’s like living in a hormone-dominated house.”
“Yeah, you’re breaking my heart. The only thing fighting for domination at my house are a Siamese and a German shepherd.”
“Don’t I hear your mother calling you?”
Ryan chuckled. “You decide if you’re keeping the filly?”
Will’s gaze took in the small, chocolate-brown horse with the spindle legs standing next to her mother. Her sleek coat was the exact same color as Annie’s hair. The big, dark eyes the same color as Annie’s eyes. “She stays.”
“Annie-O, huh?”
Will nodded.
“So tell me again, why it is you’re giving Annie a hard time?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m giving her a hard time because she belongs here. Plain and simple. Sullivan Ranch is her home.”
“That’s not how she sees the situation. She’d like a home of her own.”
Ryan turned and stood with his back against the gate to look Will up and down, apparently not particularly liking what he saw.
“What the hay are you talking about?” Will asked. “I just said this is her home.”
“That’s not how she sees it.”
A good day was when everything went just the way he planned. A bad day was when things were out of his control. Yesterday had been one lousy day.
Will shook his head as he moved down the stairs with heavy steps and headed to the kitchen. A small lamp was on in the living room, bathing the room in an amber glow. He glanced at the clock on the mantel. Only 3:00 a.m., and here he was awake again. You’d think he’d have been exhausted after all the riding he did yesterday afternoon.
After Annie’s announcement he couldn’t face going back to the house, and he had taken one of the horses out and rode until they both were tired. By then it was nearly nightfall.
Confusion had left little room for anything such as sleep last night.
The kitchen light was on, and he was surprised to see Rose at the table, her Bible and a cup of tea in front of her. She wore her robe and fuzzy slippers.
“Morning, Will. Couldn’t sleep either?”
“No, a lot on my mind.”
“I imagine.”
“Where’s your walker?” he asked, dodging her last words.
“I’ve been set free by the therapist,” she said.
“Good for you. I’m proud of how hard you’ve worked these weeks, Rose.”
“Couldn’t have done it without Annie. Her being here when I fell made all the difference.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Timing is everything, Will. Remember that.”
Will stared at her, his head cocked. Where did that come from? And why did it seem like everyone was talking in double entendres these days?
He was having a hard time keeping up. For now he chose to stay in the dark. So again he evaded her words, instead taking a peach from the bowl on the table. He rubbed his thumb over the soft, ripe fruit and bit in. The sweet flavor burst in his mouth.
“Having a good yield this year,” he commented, reaching for a napkin. “If I bring a few more bushels up from the orchard, will you have time to work on them?”
“Ellen is coming by to help me this weekend. Between us, and with Annie’s help, we’ll get them canned and frozen. Thinking about jam, too.”
“Love your jam.”
“Thank you. Maybe you could run a few bushels by the parsonage?”
“I’ll do that,” he said.
“You’re a good boy, Will,” Rose said.
“Ma’am?”
“I said you’re a good boy. Always have been. Pigheaded, and stubborn like your daddy. But a good heart.”
“Uh, thank you.” Rose was acting a little strange this morning. He gave her the benefit of the doubt, knowing sometimes she got sentimental for no reason. “Mind if I fix a bowl of cereal? I don’t want to disturb you,” he asked.
“Oh, you aren’t disturbing me. In fact, I imagine you and I are way overdue for a little chat. Seems like a good time, since we’re both awake.”
“Rose, can I be honest here?”
She nodded.
“I’ve had more ‘little chats’ this week than I think I have had in my entire life. They’re wearing on me. One more thing turns me upside down and I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
Rose smiled serenely. “That so? Then I guess you better make a pot of coffee, too. And make it real strong, son.”
Chapter Seventeen
Will took a shower while the coffee perked, hoping it might prepare him for his chat with Rose. One way or another, for the past ten years he’d known that eventually this day would come.
He sat down across from her, hands warming on the mug of fresh coffee, leaning forward to inhale the bracing aroma.
Rose wasted no time. “You have to tell her.”
While her words brooked no argument, he disagreed, knowing exactly who she referred to.
“With all due respect, Rose, I can’t do that.” He shook his head. Sure it was pride, but he simply could not handle the thought of Annie pitying him. Or worse, what if she decided to stay at the ranch because of the Huntington’s? Deep inside he died a little at that thought.
“I’ve never pushed you. I’ve let you handle this your own way, in your own time. All I’ve done is pray. Pray the good Lord would give you wisdom. I think ten years is plenty long to wait on the Lord, don’t you?”
“Ma’am?” Will didn’t have much to say to that.
Rose continued, obviously not needing an answer. “There are a few things you need to know before you completely shut the door.” She removed her glasses and wiped a trace of moisture from her eyes.
“Rose,” Will said softly. He could not stand for her to be upset.
She closed her eyes for a moment. “Listen. Hear me through.”
He nodded, sighing.
“Your father’s life was a prison of his own making, Will. He refused to allow anyone to know about the Huntington’s. Time and again he refused the very medication which could have at least helped him. He refused to let anyone in, not even you and I. At the end his life was shortened, not expanded, by his stubborn pride.
“Don’t get me wrong. I understand Huntington’s as well as you do. I researched it plenty during those years. There was no test for Huntington’s while your father was alive, but that’s no excuse. I know the final result would have been the same. But things could have been much different day to day, if he would have just bent a little.”
She took a steadying breath. “Pride is a dangerous thing, Will. Because he barely allowed treatment for any of his symptoms, Bill gave in to the disease. He lost hope right from the start.”
There was nothing Will could say to Rose. She was absolutely right.
“You were six when he hired me. At that time the tremors and the memory problems had already begun. Once your momma left him, I fell in love with your daddy for the man he was. Even Huntington’s could never take those memories away from me.” She sipped the coffee he’d poured for her. “Aside from his pride, your father was a kind and generous man with a sense of humor like none other. Except maybe his son.”
Her tender smile pierced Will’s heart and he realized the depth of Rose O’Shea’s love for his father. “Rose, Rose. I had no idea.” He reached out to clasp her hands. “Why didn’t I know? Was I that oblivious back then?”
Rose laughed. “Love isn’t always about hugging and kissing and such. Sometimes it’s simply the pure connection of two souls, two hearts and two minds.”
He paused and considered her words. “I’m sorry, Rose.”
“Don’t be. As I said, I have my memories. Your father loved me. He told me many times. I had the confidence of at least knowing that. But he wouldn’t hear of us getting married. Refused to do that to me, he said. In fact, more than once he told me I should leave.” She paused and stared out the window into the dark morning. “Fortunately, Sullivans don’t have a leg up on the O’Sheas when it comes to stubbornness. I flat out refused to leave
.”
Will gave a half smile. All these years he’d wondered what kept Rose at the ranch. He’d known it was love, known she loved him like a son, but he never suspected she loved his father as well.
Rose O’Shea could have been Rose Sullivan if his father had married her. As he held her hands and looked deep in her eyes, it sank in. While he understood his father’s decision he regretted the loss. He already loved Rose as a mother. She deserved his father’s name.
“I can understand why, Rose. He loved you and he wanted to spare you.”
“Spare me? Will, was I going anywhere? Love doesn’t run when there’s trouble. Love is forever.”
“Rose, my own mother ran.”
“That was her loss,” she answered, refusing, as she always had, to utter a negative thing about his mother. Instead she flipped through her Bible. Her finger slid down the page that she’d turned to, finally stopping. “First Corinthians thirteen—love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.” She closed her Bible. “And love never fails.”
Will hung his head against what he knew she was going to say.
“Don’t do this to Annie. At the very least tell her about the Huntington’s. Don’t you dare let her leave this ranch thinking you never cared enough to tell her the truth. Never cared, period. Because that’s exactly what she believes.”
“Wouldn’t it be best that way? Not to have her hope she can change things?”
“You aren’t going to make her stop loving you.”
“She loves me?” He blinked, afraid to believe the words could be true, terrified of the answer at the same time. “Are you sure?”
“Well, of course, any fool can see that. At least let her know why you won’t return her love.”
“But I do love her.”
Will paused, surprised at what had so naturally slipped from his lips.
“I do love her,” he repeated softly.
Suddenly everything became clear. This was what kept him awake all night.
The inability to deny his love for Annie Harris. Fear of letting her love him back.
Rose smiled. “First time you realized it, huh?”
Home on the Ranch 47 - Tina Radcliffe Page 18