He nodded, shaken by the admission.
“I remember when I realized I loved your father. It left me speechless. I had no intention of falling in love. Especially at my age.” She laughed, then shook her head.
Falling in love?
Yeah, he had fallen. And he was still falling.
Will swallowed hard, running his hands through his damp hair. He clenched his fists against the emotion that slammed into him.
How had it happened? He’d guarded his heart for so long. Who else but Annie could have snuck past his defenses?
“I’m begging you not to repeat your father’s mistake. You are his son, but I believe you are also wiser with your years, Will.”
“I’m not so sure.” He gripped the mug, feeling unsteady.
The only thing he knew for certain was that he loved Annie and he was confused. “Rose, nothing has changed about Huntington’s. It’s ten years later but there still isn’t a cure. I read about it constantly, hoping something will change. But it’s the same words over and over. Sure, great, I take a test. Fifty percent chance of being negative. What about the other fifty percent? What did I read somewhere? That it still equals one hundred percent Huntington’s.”
“Will, you could die tomorrow. You could die next week. Your days are numbered of the Lord, not of Will Sullivan. Good night. Stop and think about it. We could have lost Annie in Africa.”
He shuddered, knowing she was right and yet unable to let go.
“You’re all backward. You’re figuring each day as a death sentence instead of a gift.”
“Rose, it’s enough for me to carry this burden. I can’t… won’t…give it to Annie.”
“Will, Will, you listen, but your ears are closed. The burden is the Lord’s. Annie has more substance than you and I both. She can handle this.”
He nodded numbly, his strength to argue fading fast.
Rose reached out to touch his arm. “What is faith, Will?”
His glance connected with hers and he wanted so much to be able to see things her way, but he couldn’t get past the pain of his father’s last days and his own fear of tomorrow.
Rose gave him a sweet smile. “You have to let go before you can take the first step.”
He thought he had made peace with the Huntington’s. He thought he was walking with the Lord on this. Wasn’t he?
“Can you at least tell Annie?” she persisted.
Will covered her hand with his and released a breath. “All right. Yes. You’re right. She deserves that much.” He paused and looked Rose in the eye. “But it won’t change anything.”
“We’ll see.” She closed her Bible. “When are you going to tell her?”
“When I have to.”
Rose chuckled. “There you go. Spoken like a true Sullivan.”
Will finished his chores and showered. He ducked his head into Annie’s room. “Annie?” Her bed was made and her trunk was open. Packed but open. A thread of panic ran through him.
She was leaving already? Had he run out of time already?
Will headed Okie out of the yard, into the fields and toward the peach orchards.
Rose was right. Annie at least deserved to know about the Huntington’s. She was a part of their family and it was plain wrong for her to be on the outside.
Good thing she was at the orchard. It was probably the only private spot on the ranch. Lately he felt as if he was surrounded by people. There was noise everywhere he went except the corners of the ranch.
Picking up speed, he nudged the mare into a canter, praying he’d find the right words by the time he reached the orchard.
She’d parked the Jeep under an elm tree in the shade. Will brought Okie to a halt. He pulled the reins into his left hand, dropped the stirrups, and gently vaulted off the horse. Glancing around, he still didn’t see Annie, so he tied the leather reins to the Jeep’s fender.
He walked up and down the rows until finally spotting her denim-clad legs on a ladder in the middle of the last row of peach trees.
“Need some help?” he called.
“What did you have in mind? Eating or picking?”
“Either one.”
She continued to pick the fruit, not stopping to glance down, but placing each ripe peach in a bushel balanced on the top seat of the ladder.
“These peaches are more than ready,” he remarked idly, removing his gloves and reaching up to examine the fuzzy fruit that dangled on the branches. “Going to be busy this week, aren’t we?”
“Lots of pies for you,” she said.
“For me or for Ryan?” he asked.
“You’re jealous Rose’s sharing pies with Ryan?”
“You bet I am.”
Annie laughed and the sound warmed him.
“You want to hand me that bushel?” he asked.
Eyes averted, she stepped down a rung and slid the basket from the top of the ladder. Her hands brushed his as she eased the load to his arms.
He stumbled back, dazed by the simple touch of her hand.
“Careful,” Annie said. “Don’t fall.”
“Too late for that,” he answered. “I’m already a goner.”
She looked at him curiously. “What?”
“Nothing.”
He lifted the bushel of fragrant fruit into the back of the Jeep. There was already a small basket of blackberries loaded. “I see you found the last of the blackberries.”
“Not many.”
“Enough for a couple pies, though, isn’t it?” he said, popping a few of the rich berries into his mouth.
“Unless someone eats them all first.”
Will glanced at her hands. “Are you talking about you or me?”
Red-faced, she tucked her berry-stained hands into her pockets. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Will chuckled. “You’re done picking?”
“For today.”
Folding up the ladder, he arranged it onto the back of the Jeep, securing it with a length of rope. He turned to face her. “So do you mind clearing up something for me?”
“What would that be?” she asked, suspicion etching her face.
“When are you leaving?”
“I haven’t decided yet. There are two slots open, and it depends on how fast I can get everything tied up.”
“Then why is your trunk packed?”
“I never unpacked it.”
“What? Why not?”
“I knew that Sullivan Ranch was only a stop on the way.”
“On the way to what?”
She shrugged. “Whatever the Lord has planned for me.”
“I see.”
“You didn’t come all the way out here to try to convince me I shouldn’t go to Mexico, did you?”
“Me? Naw.”
“Then maybe you’re here to try to get me to hurry up and leave?”
“Annie, you know better. But I did want to apologize, if you’ll let me.”
She frowned. “Apologize for what?”
“Oh, I’ve got a whole list, if you’ve got a few minutes.”
“You think a whole list is going to take a few minutes?”
“You going somewhere?”
“Eventually,” she said.
Will narrowed his eyes.
“I’ve got some water bottles in the cooler in the front seat. Want one?” she asked.
Taking off his Stetson, he nodded and moved to a grassy spot in the shade. He let his riding gloves drop to the ground.
Tossing a bottle to him, Annie drank from hers, all the while watching him, her expression wary.
“Pull up a chair,” Will said, settling on the grass.
She complied. Legs folded, she leaned back on her hands.
“I need to talk to you about my father.”
Her eyes grew round.
“Annie, I’ve never really explained to you what happened. I’ve never told anyone for that matter. Except Rose.”
“You don’t have to do this, Will.”
“I do.
I’ve already wasted enough time.” He plucked at the grass, wondering where to begin. A hot breeze blew past, ruffling Annie’s hair.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He nodded. “I told you my dad did die of pneumonia, but what I didn’t say is that it was a complication of his disease.”
Annie said nothing, simply waited on him.
Will cleared his throat and unscrewed the cap of the water bottle, taking a long swig. “The other thing I never told you is that my father had Huntington’s chorea, Huntington’s disease. Whatever you want to call it.”
“Dear Lord,” she gasped, sitting up straight. Her gaze remained fixed on him. Confusion and pain moved across her face. But never once what he’d feared most. Pity.
“My grandfather was adopted.” He fiddled with the label on the bottle, peeling the paper as he spoke. “My dad is the first one I know of who has developed the disease. I’ve talked to the doctors and read all the literature. Bottom line never changes.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth. “I, uh, I can count on a fifty-fifty chance of carrying the gene for Huntington’s.”
He paused, collecting his thoughts.
“So that’s why you have a card from a neurologist in the Jeep.”
“You saw that? Well, yeah. Dr. Nolan. He was my father’s doctor, too.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“My mother divorced my dad when he started having symptoms. She couldn’t handle a sick husband. It’s always been safer not to tell anyone.”
“I’m not like your mother.”
“I know. And I’m sorry I never told you.” Relief washed over him.
“Why did you feel the need to carry this by yourself all this time?”
“Rose calls it Sullivan stubbornness.” He shrugged.
“I guess she nailed you, did she?”
A half smile escaped from his lips at her words.
“Haven’t they isolated the gene?” Annie asked.
“Yeah. I can be tested. A test will tell me if I carry the gene. If I do I will develop Huntington’s. When and how severe is a question that no one can answer. Up until now I just haven’t seen the point in looking for trouble.”
“I see.”
“Annie, there’s something else.”
She raised a brow.
He took a deep breath. “About that night.”
A long silence ensued.
“Consider it forgotten.” She turned her head away in a gesture of dismissal. “It was just a kiss.”
“No,” he said, his voice getting louder. “I can’t forget about it. That’s the problem. I wish I could.”
He heard her small gasp and when she turned back toward him, her face was a mixture of stunned surprise at his outburst.
Fact was, even he was a little surprised at his outburst. When she began to blink over and over again he began to worry.
Now it was his turn to ask. “You okay?”
Annie opened her hands and closed them.
“I don’t know what to do about it, Annie.”
“I can see how this might be a real problem for you, Will.” She took a deep breath. “I never meant to be part of anything that would, well, that could threaten the ranch.”
“Who told you that?”
“I overheard Margaret. I wasn’t eavesdropping, I was just there.”
Will gritted his teeth for a moment, angry that Margaret had cause Annie pain. “No. You don’t get it. I don’t want to forget it. That kiss meant something to me. It meant everything to me.”
He stared up through the dense branches of the elm tree searching for the right words. “Look, I wasn’t going to say anything. Rose insisted I tell you.”
“You wouldn’t have?” Eyes sparking, her voice jumped an octave and her cheekbones became splotchy and red with emotion.
Uh-oh. There was no mistaking the signs now.
Mad.
Annie was mad as all get-out.
“No. After what I told you about my dad, you have to see that I have more than a chance of Huntington’s. What kind of thing is that to lay on you?”
“Let me get this straight. You’re telling me all this because Rose made you?”
“Well, yeah, basically.”
“So if not for Rose, you would have let me go again. Never told me—anything?”
“I wouldn’t have told you because I care for you.”
“Please.”
His head snapped back at her sarcasm. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” she continued. “Tell me, Will, I’m curious. What did the Lord have to say on the subject?”
“Leave the Lord out of this. He and I have an understanding.”
“Oh, I bet you do. You run the show. The Will show.”
Will stared at her. What was going on? He never in a million years expected this turn in the conversation.
“Hold on here, just a minute.” He rolled to his knees and stood. Pacing back and forth, he tried to figure out exactly what had just transpired. He glanced down at where she still sat on the grass.
“Annie, why are you leaving?”
“Because I did overhear your conversation with Margaret, and I won’t do anything to threaten Sullivan Ranch. Besides, it’s time to get on with my life.”
“Margaret was barking up the wrong tree.” He met Annie’s dark eyes, straight on. “Do you have feelings for me?”
“Feelings?” In a heartbeat her lower lip began to tremble and a hot tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
“Awe, what are you doing? Anne E. doesn’t cry.”
“I am not crying.” She swiped at her face with the back of her hand.
Will knelt down in front of her. “I am so lousy at this stuff. Jones never would have made you cry.”
“I don’t love Ryan. I love you, Will.”
“You do?” His heart soared then crash-landed. “That’s what I was afraid of.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “What are we going to do about this situation?”
She sniffed again.
“Now what are you crying for?” he asked, getting more and more nervous by the second.
“I am not crying!”
“Well, you’re looking mighty emotional to me.”
“What do you expect? I tell you I love you and then you ask me what we’re going to do about it, as though it was the worst thing that ever happened to you.”
“No. Trust me, this isn’t nearly close to the worst thing that ever happened to me.”
Annie’s face screwed up in surprise and confusion.
“That’s not what I meant. Ah, Annie,” he sighed, smoothing her mane of dark hair back with his hands. “Only the Lord knows how much I love you.”
She lifted her face to his, hope lighting up her eyes.
Will placed a small kiss on each of her brows.
He leaned closer. When his lips touched hers for a tender kiss, the world rocked in its orbit. Putting her away from him, he took a deep breath. “I suppose if I had the genetic testing, then maybe we could talk about the future.”
Annie sucked in a gulp of air. “Will Sullivan, you just don’t get it, do you?”
“What did I do now?”
This time it was Annie who stood, hands on hips. “My love for you is not based on the results of a test.”
“That’s easy to say, but I saw what happened to my father. I watched my mother walk away.”
“Did you leave him? Did Rose leave?”
“No, of course not.”
“I love you. Think about what that means.”
“No need to get bent out of shape here. I’m only thinking of you.”
“You’re giving me an out.”
“Well, yeah.” He gestured with his hands.
“I don’t want an out. I want unconditional love from you and I want it forever. Those are my only terms. Nonnegotiable.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I don’t want you tested.”
Will stared, u
nable to comprehend. Those were the last words he expected from Annie.
“I’m a nurse, Will. I understand Huntington’s. I understand the implications for the future.”
He eased from his haunches and stood. “Do you understand that it means putting someone I care about through the possible torture of watching me die a little every single day?”
“I understand all of that. I told you once you’re an all-or-nothing guy. Well, maybe you need to realize I’m an all-or-nothing woman. I don’t want to be offered marriage based on any test results. I want you to ask me to marry you because you know that I am God’s best for you—because you love me and can’t live without me. Period.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why?”
“Annie, I can’t offer you marriage when I don’t know what my future holds.”
“Does anyone know what the future holds?”
He paced back and forth across the grass. “You know what I mean.”
“Are you willing to let me go through the torture of dying a little every day because I can’t be with the man I love?”
“Now you’re twisting my words around.”
“Am I?”
Will kicked the ground. “What about children?”
“Children? Oh, for goodness’ sake. What about them? Do you have to have all your i’s dotted now? My love for you is not based on having children.”
“I love you, Annie. It scares me how fast and how hard this love for you has hit me. But marriage? That’s something else.”
Finger pointed, she walked up to him and poked him in the chest. “Will Sullivan. It’s time to admit you’re afraid. Time to admit it and make yourself vulnerable to what God wants for you.”
“That’s not the issue here. I said I’d take the test, didn’t I?”
“This isn’t about having the courage to take a test. It’s about having the faith to give yourself to God. Until you can accept His unconditional love, you won’t be able to accept mine.”
“That’s a bag of nails.”
“Excuse me?”
“Annie—”
“No.” She turned away and crossed her arms over her chest, obviously unwilling to hear more. “As far as I can see I’m right back where I started. In love with a man who doesn’t return my feelings. Mexico is sounding better and better.”
“Forget Mexico.”
She glared at him.
“Annie—”
Home on the Ranch 47 - Tina Radcliffe Page 19