by Brenda Mott
He’d just begun to study the freckles sprinkled across her nose when she turned and caught him staring. Quickly, he averted his gaze and focused once more on his breakfast. He said the first thing that came to mind. “So, what are you doing out and about so early?”
“I got a call from Joy Isley this morning. She had some stray horses wander onto her place.” Tess described the geldings. “Any idea who they might belong to?”
Wade shrugged. “Beats me. A lot of folks have bays and sorrels. Why don’t you ask your dad?”
“I intend to, and Doc Baker, as well. I just thought you might know.” She took a drink from the glass of water the waitress had set in front of her. “But, of course, I forgot that horses are simply working animals to you. I doubt you’d ever see the individuality in one.”
Wade sipped his milk, giving himself a minute to do the mental ten-count thing. It was too early in the morning to be arguing with a redheaded woman who was suddenly doing funny things to his stomach and his head. “Now, there’s where you’d be wrong,” he said, setting his glass back on the table.
“Oh?”
“That’s right, Miss Smarty-Pants horse rescuer. I’ve owned plenty of horses with what I’d say was individual personality in my time.”
“Really?” Fighting a smile, Tess braced her elbows on the table and leaned her chin on laced fingers. “Tell me about them.”
“Let’s see.” He poured more maple syrup over his pancakes, which seemed to suck the stuff up like sponges. “There was Winchester…”
“No, Dad, tell her about Ace.” Jason smiled broadly at Tess. “He saved Dad’s life.”
“No kidding?” Tess drew back, looking impressed.
Wade felt his face warm. He didn’t like to think about that day he’d fallen through the ice. He’d been a dumb kid, not listening to his dad.
He eyed the empty place in front of Tess. “Don’t you want to get some pancakes?”
“In a minute. First I want to hear about your hero horse.” She waved her hand in a hurry-up gesture. “Go ahead.”
Wade told her about Ace, the six-year-old black gelding that had been his father’s best working ranch horse. One winter, when Wade was ten, he’d decided to try his hand at ice fishing. There was a huge pond, almost lake size, in one of the pastures not far from the house. Fed by the river, it was a great place to catch trout, and Wade had decided his dad’s warnings of the dangers of thin ice were not warranted.
A freak warming trend in January had left the ground thawing, the ice beginning to melt. But he’d been certain it was thick enough to hold him, and had sneaked away while his dad was busy splitting firewood. As he used a saw to cut a hole in the ice, it cracked around him, and he fell through into the frigid water.
Ace was one of the horses on pasture in the enclosure around the pond. When Tom Darland looked up from his task to see his best horse running in circles, snorting, eyes fixed on the pond, he’d known something was amiss. Tom trusted the gelding’s sharp senses.
“Dad ducked through the fence and spotted me before he was halfway across the pasture. He yelled for a ranch hand who happened to be riding in from mending fence.” Wade glanced at Tess and saw her deep green eyes focused on him raptly.
He nearly forgot where he was in his story.
“Tell her about the rope,” Jason encouraged.
“My dad’s quite a hand with a lariat,” Wade went on. “Which was lucky for me. He grabbed that cowboy’s rope and ran for the pond. Threw a loop around me and hauled me in. I was dang near froze to death.”
“Dad didn’t get a spanking, though,” Macy added. “Even though Grandma Darland thought he ought to. Grandpa said being half-frozen was punishment enough.”
“But he never tried to ice fish again,” Jason finished. “And Ace became the hero of the Bar D.”
“Wow.” Tess sat up straight in her chair and eyed him. “Who would’ve known? So you cowboys don’t always think of ranch horses as just working animals, right?” She held his gaze, eyes full of feigned innocence.
Wade shifted in his chair. “Well. Mostly we do. But Ace was special.”
“Whatever happened to him?”
“Uh—he’s still around.”
“You mean you didn’t take him to the sale barn?”
“No. He wasn’t my horse to sell.”
“And your dad didn’t take him, either?”
He could see the corners of her mouth begin to quirk with amusement, and from the way her eyes sparkled, he could tell she was trying her best not to break out in a full-fledged grin.
Busted. “No, actually, he didn’t.”
“’Course not.” Jason turned to Tess. “Grandpa sold off most of the Bar D, but he still has Ace. He’s twenty-nine years old now. The horse, not Grandpa.” He grinned.
Tess laughed. “I’m impressed.” She scooted her chair back. “Let me get some of those pancakes, then you can tell me about Winchester.”
A SHORT WHILE LATER, Macy and Jason headed out the door to walk to school with their friends who lived in town. Ferguson Riverside, which went from kindergarten to grade eight, was only a mile from the café, and Thursday was the one day Macy and Jason didn’t have to ride the bus.
Wade knew he should leave, too, and get to his chores. But as he and Tess settled into talking about various horses and other things he’d begun to enjoy his conversation with her. He discovered that she’d agreed to take on Macy’s 4-H group because it was a “horse only” club. None of the kids in the group raised meat animals, such as sheep, steers or hogs. Before Wade could have a chance to let that comment rile him, the conversation led to one that had him even more up in arms.
“I’ve been thinking about something,” Tess said. She pushed her empty plate away and cupped her glass of orange juice. “If you’re unable to buy Tess a new barrel-racing horse right now, why not look into adopting one from the sanctuary? The fee is minimal.”
Wade bristled. Who was she to determine what he could and couldn’t afford to buy? That her statement was true didn’t make him feel any better.
“Who says I can’t buy one?”
Tess raised her eyebrows. “Then you were trying to get Macy to sell Amber only because you don’t want an old horse around anymore?”
He scowled at her and opened his mouth to explain it all again, then shook his head. “I told you before—it’s none of your concern.”
She held up a hand in surrender. “Okay. You’re right. I didn’t mean to be nosy. It’s just that all my rescue cases aren’t necessarily crippled and old. I frequently get an animal that’s suffered from malnutrition or abandonment, nothing else. As a matter of fact, my own mare was a rescue animal. I’d be happy to adopt a horse out to Macy the next time I run across one that might be suitable for 4-H.” She frowned back at him. “That’s all I meant, Wade, so you can just tamp down your male pride and smooth your feathers. There’s no reason to be so pigheaded.”
He let out a huff of air, then scooted his chair away from the table. “I’m hardly the one who’s pigheaded, Tess. Look, it was nice having breakfast with you, but I’ve got work to do.” He scooped up the check for his and the kids’ meals, then reached for the one the waitress had laid near Tess’s elbow. Before she could protest, he held up one hand. “I’ve got it.” He touched the brim of his hat. “See ya around.”
“Thanks,” Tess said dryly.
Ignoring her, he walked to the cash register to pay. He did his best not to look back at her over his shoulder. For a whole minute.
Unable to resist, Wade cast a casual glance toward their table. Tess hadn’t wasted any time in leaving. The cowbell clanged as she closed the door behind her. But not before he saw her watching him, as well. Quickly, he averted his gaze, paid the tab and strode outside. He’d parked on the street near Audrey’s. In the parking lot, Tess sat behind the wheel of her Dodge truck.
He expected to hear the engine crank over. Instead, the small ticking of a bad starter reached his ears.
Tess’s lips moved as she mumbled in frustration and gave the Ram another shot. Nothing.
Wade walked toward her, telling himself he couldn’t very well drive off and leave her stranded. “Engine trouble?” he asked, leaning his elbows on the door frame above her open window.
She glared at him. “Nope. I just like the view here.” Then she rolled her eyes in a good-natured way. “I think it’s the starter.”
“Can I give you a lift? I was going over to your dad’s feed store, anyway.”
“Actually, that’s not where I was going. At least, not right now.”
“Yeah?”
She hesitated, looking uncomfortable. He wondered briefly if she’d been on her way to see a man. The thought that she had someone in her life hadn’t occurred to him for some reason, which was stupid. Just because he had no social life didn’t mean she wouldn’t.
“I understand,” he said.
She gave him a puzzled frown.
“Hey, if you’ve got someone to meet, it’s okay by me.” He blurted out the words like a high-school boy, then immediately felt foolish. What was he doing? “That is—”
She cut him off. “I’m not exactly meeting someone.” Again, she hesitated. “I thought I’d stop and see my mother before I headed home.”
He stared blankly at her for a moment before what she said registered. Of course. Tess’s mom lived at the County Care Facility. Years ago, he’d heard Raelene Vega was ill, but he’d never paid much attention to town rumors and hadn’t been nosy enough to come right out and ask Lloyd what was wrong with his wife.
“Oh.” He clamped his mouth over the question that now threatened to spill out. It was none of his business. For some reason, though, he suddenly felt compelled to ask.
As if reading his thoughts, Tess spoke. “She has Alzheimer’s. I try to visit her at least twice a week.”
“Oh,” he repeated. “I had no idea. I heard people around town talking about your mom being sick, but I didn’t know…uh…isn’t she a little young to have Alzheimer’s?” He wasn’t really sure how old Rae was. But Lloyd appeared to be about fifty-something, and Raelene would likely be close to his age.
A look of pain crossed Tess’s face, then was gone. “Yes, she is. Mom developed a rare form of the disease when I was a teenager.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He held her gaze, and suddenly, a picture of what Tess’s adolescence must have been like flashed through his mind. A sick mother. A dad on his own. Wade could certainly relate. “I’d be happy to drive you over to see your mom,” he said.
“There’s no need. It’s not that far. I can walk.” She pushed open the door of her pickup and stepped out.
She felt small to his six foot two. The urge to reach down and take the ball cap from her head gripped him as they stood toe to toe. He’d never before seen her hair out of braids. He wondered what it looked like beneath that cap, what it would feel like trailing between his fingers.
Man, those pancakes must’ve weighed down not just his stomach but his mind, as well.
“It’s a good two miles or so,” he argued. “Let me drive you.”
She lifted a shoulder, but he saw the pulse at the base of her throat jump. He wasn’t the only one aware of how close they were standing to each other.
“All right. Thanks.” Tess closed the pickup’s door, leaving the window down. Not many people around town bothered to lock their vehicles.
She walked beside him toward his Ford, and he felt like her date as he held the door for her and gave her a hand up into the four-wheel drive. Her palm felt soft, yet he could detect a row of calluses that told him she worked hard. Her arm was tanned, slender and well formed beneath her tank top, and just a peek of a pale-blue sports bra greeted his view as he let his gaze roam her body.
What would she look like in a pair of Rockies jeans?
Wade shook off the thought. He had to stop it. This was crazy. She was Macy’s 4-H leader, for heaven’s sake.
Letting out a sigh, he moved around to the driver’s side and climbed into the pickup. After firing the engine, he pulled out of the parking lot.
A picture came to mind as he drove toward the County Care Facility. One of Tess as a stubborn child, refusing to eat her hamburger casserole, but gaining points as a good little girl for finishing all her broccoli.
He laughed without fully realizing it.
“What’s so funny?” Tess stared at him, a soft smile on her face. The sort of smile a person has when he or she isn’t sure what the joke is.
Even with her rumpled hair and her tattered ball cap, she was pretty. He found himself picturing her in the Rockies once more.
“Nothing.” He faced forward and concentrated on the road. “Nothing at all.”
THE MINUTE WADE DROVE AWAY toward the County Care Facility, Tess began to wish she hadn’t accepted a ride from him. Would he want to come in with her? Or would he simply be satisfied with dropping her off? She hoped for the latter. Seeing her mother so sick was difficult enough. It wasn’t something she wanted to share with Wade—or anyone else, for that matter. She even found it hard to visit her mom in the company of her own father. The look in his eyes of a haunting, continual loss was usually more than she could bear.
When they pulled up in the CCF parking lot, Tess opened the door before Wade could get any more chivalrous ideas about doing it for her. “Thanks for the ride,” she said, stepping out onto the pavement.
“Do you want me to come in with you?” he offered. “Or wait here for you?”
“Neither. I’ll call Dad to come get me.”
“You sure?” He studied her.
“Uh-huh.” She nodded, feeling a little bad about turning down Wade’s kindness. “Thanks again.” Closing the door, she gave a wave, then quickly turned to head for the building’s front entrance.
The nurses greeted her by name as she entered. Molly, her favorite, smiled and fell into step beside her. She spoke in a husky, nearly gruff voice that belied the tender care she bestowed upon her patients. “I was just getting ready to take your mom a little treat,” she said, indicating the tray in her hand. A small bowl of tapioca pudding rested on it. Her mother’s favorite. Or at least, it had been when she could remember things like that. “She wasn’t real happy with her oatmeal this morning.”
Tess managed a smile. “That’s sweet of you, Molly. I’m sure she’ll like that.” She hesitated. “How’s Mom doing today?” Lately, Raelene’s days went from not so good to worse. Tess wondered how much longer her mother could cling to life, existing this way. The black thought made her stomach churn.
“She’s doing pretty good,” Molly said. Her face creased with sympathy. “I admire the way you come see Rae all the time, hon. She may not really be aware of who you are, but…well, it’s nice that you’re here.”
“I could never abandon her,” Tess said. “She’s my mom.”
Molly nodded, her short, salt-and-pepper curls bobbing. “May God bless you for that, my dear.” Together, they entered the room where Raelene sat in a chair near the window.
“Raelene, look who’s here,” Molly said. “It’s Tess.”
Rae’s face lit up, and she smiled. “Yes.”
Tess’s chest gave a little hitch. For the briefest moment, Rae almost looked normal. But Tess knew better. Rae might recognize her briefly, but in the span of a heartbeat, she’d once more have no idea who Tess was. Where was the justice in that? Why did God allow such things to happen to such a good person?
With no more answer to her question now than she’d had eleven years ago, Tess pasted a smile on her face and walked over to stand beside Rae. “Hi, Mama. How are you today?” Rae held the card Tess had given her for Mother’s Day, twisting it in her hands. The edges were bent and one was torn, but it didn’t matter. As long as Raelene got some enjoyment from it. Tess reached to stroke her mother’s hair, which had once been dark and silky but was now gray and brittle.
“I’ve brought you some pudding,” Molly said. “
You want Tess to feed it to you?”
Rae appeared confused. She opened her mouth as though trying to answer. Then she spoke, looking directly at Tess. “Those cows ate my shoes before I brushed my hair.”
“I see,” Tess said, feeling the familiar lump rise in her throat. To know that the sentence made perfect sense to her mom was the hardest. She picked up the pudding and spoon from Molly’s tray.
Molly patted her wrist. “Call me if you need anything, hon.” She left the room, shoes padding softly against the linoleum.
“How about a little pudding, Mama?” Tess scooped a small bite onto the spoon and held it out in offering.
Rae took it, the effort for her to swallow just as great as if she’d been chewing on a chunk of solid food. “I heard you didn’t like your breakfast earlier.”
“Yes.” Rae opened her mouth for another bite of pudding, and Tess knew she’d already forgotten the oatmeal. Rae ate the pudding, then focused on Tess’s face, forehead creased, eyes worried. “I need to put the goats to bed.”
“It’s okay, Mama. They’re already in for the night.”
Rae stared at her. Then suddenly, she slapped the spoon out of Tess’s hand. It bounced against the floor. “No!” She shook her head over and over, arms flailing. The Mother’s Day card fell to her lap, then slid onto the linoleum.
“Mama,” Tess soothed. “It’s all right.” She rose from her chair, knowing she was probably going to have to call for Molly.
“Goats,” Rae insisted, her mind fighting to communicate the words she so desperately needed to speak.
Tess knew she was fixating on a time in the past, when Raelene’s own mother had a herd of Nubians. It had been nine-year-old Rae’s job to make sure they were put up in the barn for the night, safe from coyotes.
Gently, Tess placed her hands on her mother’s shoulders in an effort to still her motions. “The goats are fine, Mama. You did good. You got them in safe for the night.” Eyes burning with unshed tears, she gave her mother a tender squeeze. “I promise.”
Moisture filled the corners of Rae’s eyes, and thankfully, the irritation drained from her like air from a balloon. She slumped briefly in Tess’s arms, then turned to stare out the window, lost once more in her own silent world.