by Ali Olson
At last, a great weight disappeared from Jack’s shoulders. After years of wondering, at least he knew the answers to all his unanswered questions. Now there still seemed to be one question left: Where did he go from there?
* * *
AMY SAT ON the tailgate, chilled by the early-morning breeze and by her own thoughts. She waited for him to say something that would give her a clue as to what he was thinking. If he despised her cowardice, wanted nothing to do with her, she deserved it. She wouldn’t run from it anymore. She patted the mare’s soft muzzle absentmindedly, waiting.
Finally, he spoke. “We should get your horse back to the barn,” he said, hopping off the tailgate and holding out his hand to her. “How about we walk there? I can come back for the truck.”
She was speechless for a moment. The unexpected friendliness, the opening of a door she thought long closed, surprised her. When she took his hand, however, its warmth and steadiness rushed through her, and the spark of recognition and comfort that flowed through the link made her smile. Her hand felt right nestled in his, like they had never been apart.
“Your hands are freezing,” Jack commented, pressing hers in both of his.
She was warmed by more than his palms as he helped her stand, and their fingers lingered together for an extra moment before he let go to close his tailgate and pull his keys from the ignition.
They began walking side by side toward her parents’ ranch along the road, the mare walking along behind them and occasionally batting Amy with her nose, as if anxious to move faster. Amy, though, wasn’t in any rush to finish the half mile or so walk. She didn’t want this intimate moment to be over too quickly.
“I can’t believe you still have that old truck,” she told Jack, glancing back at the vehicle parked beside the field. “After all the times it broke down in high school, I never would have imagined it would last so long.”
“I had to put a lot of work into it over the years, and it still has a few quirks,” Jack said, giving her a sidelong smile that went straight to her heart, “but I’ve loved it since I was a teenager. I could never just give up on it.”
Amy blushed, feeling the words resonate through her, sure he was talking about more than just the truck.
But no. Even if they did, the facts of the situation had not changed. She still couldn’t have children, and he still deserved the chance to find a woman who could give him the family he’d always wanted.
He had the chance, and it seems he never took it, she thought to herself. She couldn’t stop the heat from blossoming in her chest. It turned to ice as she put back up the walls she’d built around her heart in the past few days. She knew now better than ever that she couldn’t let herself get carried away with a man. Even if it was Jack.
He stopped walking and turned toward her, and she did the same. Suddenly, she felt as if he was much too close, and at the same time too far away, and she longed to move closer. To touch his lips with hers. She took a step back.
She was sure the feel of their lips, their bodies, together would also be on the list of things that hadn’t changed, and it scared her.
“Will you go out with me tonight?” he asked, his voice low and deep.
The word yes was on her tongue, but Amy balked. She couldn’t let them fall right back into the relationship she’d run away from, could she? What about all that had happened since? Would there just be too much between them? And she had no idea who he was now. He could be every bit as despicable as Armand, the person she least wanted to think about.
Jack seemed to realize her indecision, because he turned and started walking toward her house again. After a moment, she pulled herself out of her shock and hustled to catch up with him. When he spoke, he sounded lighthearted, confident. Exactly the Jack she knew from high school. “How about this—we go out tonight just to get to know each other. We start fresh. No expectations. No baggage. No past. Just us, two twentysomethings who met while I was out for a drive and you were going for a ride on your horse.”
She had to smile at his antics. “No past? So you saw a random woman riding a horse in the middle of nowhere and stopped to ask her out?”
His eyes danced with laughter. “When you put it like that, it doesn’t sound so great. How about I was driving along when I saw a beautiful woman and a beautiful horse, and I felt compelled to speak to her. The woman, not the horse.”
Amy wasn’t sure if she was amused or panicked. For a moment he sounded just like Armand. Charming, flattering...but this was Jack. He was being sincere.
Wasn’t he?
They grew quiet and walked a little longer, until her childhood home appeared down the street.
“So I’ll pick you up tonight at seven?” he said, his voice serious as he turned toward her again.
Amy nodded, though a large part of her yelled that it was too much, too soon. Jack’s face lit with a smile, and he turned his attention back to the house that loomed before them. She was glad he wasn’t looking at her any longer, so he wouldn’t see just how torn and confused she was.
She tried to tell herself she was being stupid, worrying over nothing. She’d known Jack almost as long as she’d been alive. Armand was—well, he was a blip on the radar of her life, not worth thinking about. So she would just stop.
The likelihood of that was so far-fetched that Amy couldn’t stop a snort from escaping.
“What’re you thinking about over there?” Jack asked, the gleam in his eye making him so devilishly handsome she wasn’t sure if she wanted to kiss him or run away.
“That wasn’t me, that was the horse,” she said, turning away so he wouldn’t see the flow of emotions she couldn’t control.
He snorted skeptically in response, and she felt the tension inside her break as a laugh broke from her throat. She’d forgotten how easily he could make her laugh, regardless of her mood. She had missed that.
They arrived at the house, and even though the mare was pulling Amy toward the barn, she couldn’t pull herself away from Jack, as if something magnetic about him forced her to stay close to him now that she’d found him again.
He looked in her eyes again, making her stomach drop somewhere near her toes. “Seven, right?” he asked.
The note of insecurity in his voice sent a pang through her heart. It reminded her again of how much she must have hurt him. She nodded. “Seven.”
He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers, sending a shock wave of hormones rushing through her body. Her mind recoiled at the feeling, and she almost called the date off right then and there. The idea of being vulnerable again so soon, even with Jack, made her more than nervous.
Jack seemed to realize he’d crossed the line. He tilted his hat and said, “I don’t normally kiss ladies I just met. I assure you, I’ll be a perfect gentleman on our date.”
He turned back toward the road and began walking away, but she wasn’t ready for him to disappear. Not quite yet.
“You haven’t even asked my name,” she called to him, desperate to see his face again for a few more seconds.
He looked at her with a smile and bowed. “Where are my manners? Name’s Jack, miss. And you are...?” he asked.
God, he was so cute she could hardly speak. “Amelia. Friends call me Amy.”
“Amelia,” he repeated, as if tasting the word, and she felt such an overwhelming urge to kiss him she was glad he was already several feet away.
Reluctantly, she started toward the barn, following the horse’s insistent pull. Before she could get too far, though, she realized something. “This is all I have to wear for a date,” she said to his retreating figure, raising her voice so he would hear and gesturing toward her jeans and old T-shirt. “I’ve been living out of a backpack in the African desert for the past year.”
He just smiled at her again. “Sounds like you’ll have some mighty interesting stories to tell m
e at dinner, miss. You can just wear that,” he said, eyeing her carefully. “I like the cowgirl look.”
Before she could say anything in response, Jack had chuckled and waved. “See you at seven,” he called as he turned away a final time.
Once he was gone, she spun toward the barn and practically ran the rest of the way, making the horse move quickly to keep up. Even so, Amy was unable to outrun her thoughts.
What was the matter with her? Jack was not Armand. He wasn’t the type of guy to seduce her and manipulate her into falling for him. He wasn’t a selfish liar. He was Jack.
Still, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from panicking every time he said something sweet or she felt desire rise up.
She knew she was still hurting from what she’d been through, and that it was far too soon to go on a date with Jack. She knew she should’ve said no. But it was too late now, and a part of her wanted so badly to be with him again, to feel his arms around her. To be safe and secure.
She was going on a date. That was all there was to it. They would talk and eat and get to know each other again. And maybe, maybe she would be able to convince herself that everything that had happened in Morocco was in the past.
As she brushed down the mare, Amy went over the morning’s events once more in her head. Jack was just as attractive as always, that was for sure, but in high school he’d seemed a little more...happy-go-lucky, she supposed. He had always seemed happy, as if life smiled upon him. There was something careworn about him now.
She fervently hoped that she wasn’t the one to change that about him.
She shook her head at the irony of that thought, since it was just that part of his nature that had been one of the reasons she had run instead of talking to him. She’d been worried he would convince her that the doctors were wrong and they could have exactly the life they’d planned because it was the life he wanted, dammit, and everything always worked out the way he wanted.
And she had known all those years ago that if she talked to him she would cave, give in to the hope even when she knew the odds, and it had made her a coward.
But now—
“I saw Jack Stuart walking you home,” Pop said from behind Amy, startling her out of her thoughts.
He came up beside her and pet the horse she was grooming, but said nothing else. Just waited.
Amy nodded. “He spotted me while I was out riding. We had a good talk.”
Pop said nothing, but she could tell by the slight curve of his mustache that he was pleased. He didn’t meddle in the affairs of his children like Ma, but he cared deeply for their happiness. Impulsively, Amy gave the old man a hug.
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea or not, but I’m going on a date with him tonight. I’ve missed him all these years, but maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe I’m just setting myself up to get hurt, and I don’t want to go through that again—” She stopped, aware she was saying more than she’d meant to.
She hadn’t told anyone about Armand, and frankly she didn’t plan on doing it anytime soon. It was more than humiliating, and she wasn’t ready to relive it.
Luckily, Pop wasn’t the type to pry. He put a hand on Amy’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry,” he said.
She wasn’t sure if he meant not to worry about the date or her past pain or what, but it was fine not knowing. He probably meant all of it. Pop didn’t need many words to be there for his daughter.
Amy turned back to the mare to finish grooming her. “How’s the riding school going?” she asked, ready for a change of topic.
The old man puffed out a stream of air that made his mustache flutter. “Fewer kids every year, seems like. If it weren’t for the rest of the ranch and the few stud horses we have, it wouldn’t be worth the costs. Still, it’s such a part of this place I’d keep it going if it cost me a small fortune. Your ma thinks I’m crazy, but there it is.”
Amy hadn’t heard her father say so many words in one go since the time he’d lectured her on the dangers of peer pressure when she was a teenager. She’d always known her pop was partial to the riding school, and even though she worried about his health, she had to love his loyalty to the horses and the children.
The mare under Amy’s hand snorted and shook her mane, as if trying to get Amy’s attention back on her where it belonged. Amy smiled. “I like this horse, Pop. What’s her name?”
“Queen Bee.”
Amy chuckled as the animal raised her head regally. The name fit her, certainly.
“Be careful riding her, though. She had a run-in with a snake a while back and spooks easy. I don’t let the riding school kids take her out anymore.”
Amy patted the horse like she was an old friend. “I can handle a skittish horse, Pop.”
* * *
JACK DROVE BACK to his family’s ranch in a state of disbelief. He had prepared himself for an ugly fight, or for no answer at all, but not this. A reconciliation? Maybe not quite, but it was at least a new chance for him and Amy.
He also hadn’t been prepared for all the emotions he would feel when he saw her. He’d tried to be ready, but nothing he could have done would prepare him for the electricity that shot through him at the sight of her. She was as stunning as ever.
There was also a sliver of fear, as if she was going to disappear again before his eyes, as if she had never been real in the first place.
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, full of nervous energy. He didn’t know what he could do to keep himself occupied until that evening, but he’d need to find something or he would go crazy waiting, wondering if it was all real, if she would be there when he arrived at the McNeal house at seven.
Once his truck was parked in front of Stuart Ranch, Jack went immediately toward the barn, veering around the house. Indoors sounded stifling, and he knew it would be infuriating to pace around the living room watching the hand on the clock move with frustrating slowness, which he was sure would happen. Better to get onto a horse and do something under the clear cool sky rather than hole up inside.
As he approached the barn, his brother Tom walked out with a couple of horses on leads. Jack went up to him, seeing an opportunity for distraction. “How can I help?” he asked.
Tom gave him a curious look, as if he sensed something of Jack’s emotions. “I’m setting up for a group of students. They’ll be here in a half hour.”
“Ages?” Jack asked, turning to go to the barn and get whatever else they might need for the riding lessons.
“Under sevens,” Tom answered. “There’ll be about four kids total,” he added before Jack could disappear into the barn.
Jack sighed. He should have expected such low numbers, but it was always a little deflating to be reminded how much it had dwindled. With more than one school in this tiny area, and the drop in population over the past few years, having any students at all was a stroke of luck. His father and Mr. McNeal had started their riding schools years ago when the high demand for lessons meant both schools could prosper. When their father was, if not young, at least spry, they had kids driving in from towns over an hour away. He loved teaching children how to ride, and it showed in the flourishing school he ran.
Without his touch, the school had fallen off to maybe twenty students. If Spring Valley’s population had stayed steady, maybe they would be afloat even without Dad’s magic touch, but as the town dwindled, so did their business.
Now they were at the point that the only reason they’d manage to pay the bills was Jack’s winnings from the rodeo and Tom’s determination to stretch every dollar. If Jack didn’t find a new partner soon, he didn’t think even Tom’s penny-pinching would save them.
Still, the ranch had to run. It was their mom’s home—it was Jack’s future. Tom didn’t want the ranch, never had, but Jack always dreamed of turning it into a rodeo school when he retired with a good chunk of cash from his roping career.
If they could somehow last that long. Something would need to change, but what and how?
Jack pulled himself out of his reverie. It wasn’t helping anything, and he’d gone over it all so many times, but it always led to nothing. Now was the time to work, not think, so he grabbed a couple more of their gentlest horses and brought them out to the paddock where Tom was standing with the others.
They looped the leads over a fence post and both went back for saddles. “Have a good drive?” Tom asked.
Jack could tell Tom wanted to ask what had happened, knew Tom saw a change in him. And even though there was no reason to hide his reunion with Amy, that their date couldn’t possibly be a secret, he still felt a momentary desire to hide it, as if talking about it might make it all go away like a birthday wish or something.
Tom was watching him, though, and he knew he had to come clean. “I went to see Amy. We talked and decided to go out tonight.”
“Like on a date?” Tom asked, sounding a little surprised.
“I guess so,” Jack answered, not ready to clarify more.
He loved his brother, but talking had never been their strong suit, and it seemed strange to open up to him about the real history of his relationship with Amy and what this date could or could not mean. Heck, he wasn’t even really ready to think about all that, let alone talk about it.
Tom seemed to understand, because he didn’t ask anything more, and soon they were guiding little kids around the paddock, each one practicing squeezing their legs to make their horse go and pulling on the reins to stop. The two youngest children, identical twins, could hardly manage enough force to get the horse’s attention, but the docile creatures listened to them with the patience of loving parents.
Jack watched the twins with interest. Zach and Carter, Brock’s soon-to-be sons, had settled into Spring Valley comfortably and seemed more than ready to add Brock to their family. He’d seen the way their faces lit up around Amy’s brother. They loved him and from what Jack had seen, Brock clearly doted on them. Jack had always wanted a family, and it made his heart swell to think that a child didn’t need to be yours biologically in order to be family.