The moon had slid out from behind a cloud and he could see her, almost clear as day as they bobbed in the water together. She looked surprised. Stunned as he was. Even if he could remember the last woman he’d kissed, which he couldn’t right now, this one ejected all others from his memory.
She tensed up in his arms and backed away from him.
“Oh!” she breathed.
Kicking backward, she did a small spin in the water, as if she’d lost her direction back to shore.
“I shouldn’t have done that. See what a couple of beers will do?” She started toward the rocks.
He stopped her, pulling her toward him, wrapping his arms around her. “Liv, wait.”
She shook her head. “I can’t even apology-kiss you without screwing it up.”
“You didn’t screw anything up.”
“Of course it screws everything up. For so many reasons. Not the least of which is I wouldn’t want to hurt you. Of all people.”
“Hurt me? How? I liked it.”
“Because I can’t... I won’t...” She swallowed hard, treading in place. “Why’d you come back here, Jake? Was it just to keep the promise?”
He frowned. That felt like a trick question. “Tonight? Yeah. Why’d you come looking for me at Grey’s? You could’ve just let it go. Just left it alone.”
“What? No, never. I wanted to see you.” Her hands were on his shoulders. “I guess I thought, stupidly, we could pick up where we left off. As best friends. But we’re not kids anymore. This... what just happened—”
“Happened because we both wanted it to,” he finished. “At least, I did. And it felt like you did, too.”
She clearly couldn’t deny it either. “I did like it. But, Jake, the promise we made—to be each other’s fallback person—to marry each other if we were still single? It was silly and naïve and—”
“We were kids. We had no idea what was waiting for us out there. But none of that matters now. Life... it’s complicated. But what just happened? That’s simple.”
She shoved her hair off her face. “No. No. Kissing is a gateway drug. Seriously, I’ve sworn off men.”
“Men, in general or me specifically?”
Her thumbs were absently rubbing back and forth against his skin. Maybe she’d forgotten she was touching him. Maybe she was too busy thinking up reasons why they shouldn’t take this any further. But to him, it just said she was as confused as he was right now.
She looked away, sliding her hand across the moon’s reflection on the water. “Meaning—I-I’m never going to marry again.”
He stared at her for a long heartbeat, but getting past the wall she’d constructed around herself was like digging in sand. The more he uncovered, the more she disappeared.
“Look, I get it. You’ve been hurt. That bastard turned you inside out. You’ve had a rough patch. But that won’t last forever.”
“You really... you don’t know me anymore. Can’t we just be friends like we were? It was so much easier then.”
“Is that really how you remember it?”
“You don’t?”
What he remembered were a hundred sleepless nights thinking about her. Wanting her. Certain he’d screw it all up. And in the end, he had, by default.
“Okay, so lemme just get this straight. You’ve given up on men, banned marriage, and you don’t want me to kiss you anymore.”
She blinked. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
Same Olivia. Confounding as ever. “And who said anything about marriage? I was just hoping you’d give me a hand with my uncle, Deke. I’ve gotta go up and see him tomorrow. You know, he’s old and not very steady anymore.” A white lie, but a harmless one.
“Deke. You mean the eccentric one who never comes down off the mountain?”
“That’s the one. I could use some company on the ride up.”
She ducked her mouth under the water for a moment, considering, then said, “Tomorrow? Hmm. I’ll have to check my schedule. As friends?”
He gave her a non-committal shrug as Monday whined from the riverbank and lapped at the water’s edge.
She smiled in the dark. “Okay. But first I need your help. With a horse. My place? Eight a.m.? Unless you’re too busy.”
“Not too busy. But can we talk about this more later? I’ve lost all feeling in my toes.”
She laughed and ducked underwater, swimming toward shore. They’d drifted a ways down from where they started.
When Olivia surfaced, she turned back to him and taunted, “All that desert time’s made you a little thin-blooded, hasn’t it, Lassen?”
Maybe it had. But mostly, all that desert time had shown him what was really important and, maybe even more, what he wanted out of this life.
And she was climbing onto a rock three feet away.
She might have been his best friend once, but they’d been kids. And he hadn’t survived a war and all the losses that came with it to give up on her as easily as she thought he would.
Hoo-ah!
Chapter Three
“What’s Jake like now?” Olivia’s mother, Jaycee Canaday, handed Olivia a cup of coffee and joined her on the porch settee at the front of the sprawling log cabin style ranch house as the sun was coming up the next morning. The swing creaked as they set it in motion.
Olivia rolled her eyes. “How did you hear already? Did Eve call you the minute she dropped me off at Grey’s?”
“Of course, she did. Like a good daughter.” A smile played on Jaycee mouth. Her long, once dark hair was salt and pepper grey now, and at fifty, the few lines that had appeared around her eyes and mouth only made her seem more attractive, not less. She hoped, someday, she’d look half as good as her mom did when she reached her age.
“Is he as you remember him?”
“He’s almost nothing like the Jake I used to know.” Not the way his strong arms fit around her, or the way he’d kissed her and they’d fallen under water together until they’d both nearly run out of air, or his way of saying things that made her question everything she knew about herself. “He’s a man now, not the boy who left. Taller, bigger... and... so handsome, in a very... ex-soldier-y kind of way.”
“I see.” Jaycee said, her eyes saying much more.
“But don’t get all excited. Nothing’s going to come of it.”
Jaycee sipped her coffee and tucked her feet under her. “Why’s that?”
Olivia’s lips still tingled with the memory of that river kiss. “We’re just friends. Old friends.”
“Sometimes, old friends make the best lovers. Just look at Reed and me.”
Her stepfather, Reed Canaday, had been a widower with two young daughters and a very successful career as a civil attorney when he and Jaycee met. After divorcing Olivia’s father, Landon—who had, emotionally at least, left them long before that—when Olivia was eight, Jaycee was hired by Reed Canaday as a legal secretary, despite her lack of training. She’d scrambled hard to catch up, but it took only three years before the budding office friendship between them turned into the amazing romance that had now lasted over eighteen years.
“You’re the exception to the rule, Mom. Believe me, happily-ever-after is nothing but a myth for most of us.”
Jaycee tucked her arm around her daughter. “My darling girl, if you gauge the rest of your life by your marriage to Kyle, or mine to your father, then you’ll be setting the bar too low.”
Was she? Despite Landon Stembridge’s problems, his alcoholism, his spotty career as a cowboy and bronc rider, Jaycee had never badmouthed him to Olivia. Nor would she now.
But Olivia had always taken her father’s alcoholism personally. As a rejection. As if she wasn’t worth the trouble of loving. Never mind that Jaycee had loved her like crazy or that Reed had treated her like his own, adopting her after her father’s death.
Becoming a Canaday should have mended what was torn inside her but it hadn’t. Not really. If Jaycee had a psychologist handy, they would probably point out th
at Olivia had never stopped loving her dad, despite his problems and, as a result, had always been a fixer. She had, after all, married Kyle, a man ten years older than her, who had more than his share of issues that needed repair. But if the past twelve years had taught her nothing else, it was that any fixing she required must be done by her and her alone.
Apparently, she was still a work in progress.
“I’m trying not to set the bar at all,” she said. “I’m not ready. Maybe I’ll never be.”
“Like you’re not ready to get back on a horse again after the accident?”
Olivia slid a dark look at her mother.
Jaycee sipped her coffee. “What’s stopping you? What are you waiting for Olivia?”
And she knew Jaycee wasn’t just talking about the horse. What was she waiting for? A horse that denied its nature? A man without issues, who didn’t demand a commitment? Kyle had been like a magician who could appear one way to the world, yet be someone entirely different with her. In the beginning, his mood swings, his anger, would catch her by surprise, and she would blame herself. It was her clumsiness, or she didn’t look the way he’d expected, or perform the way he wanted her to. She’d often thought if she could just get it right, all of his anger and wanting to control her would go away. But eventually—too late, really—she’d realized nothing would make things right between them. More importantly, nothing could be fixed by staying.
And here she was. Free at last.
And not free at all.
Olivia stared out over the Canaday land. Thirty acres. A gentleman’s ranch in the shadow of the Absarokas. The hay pastures, alongside the ones where horses grazed, were tall, nearly ready for mowing. The yard was a riot of color, with its banks of roses and green lawn. She loved her mother’s garden even though she, herself, had a brown thumb, which seemed true of her love life, as well.
“I suppose,” she said, “it’s clear to all of you that I have terrible judgment when it comes to men.”
“Olivia, we all make mistakes,” Jaycee reminded her.
“No. I can’t read them until it’s too late, until I’ve allowed myself to be bamboozled. I’m just not cut out for marriage.”
Jaycee sighed. “Instead of doubting yourself, why not tell yourself you’ll make a great choice next time? See how that goes?”
Olivia grinned at her mom and patted her hand. “Gee whiz, Mom, I wish I’d thought of that.”
Jaycee laughed. “Okay, maybe it’s oversimplifying things. But maybe not. I just think if you keep looking behind you, you might miss what’s right in front of you.”
Jake was right in front of her. Like a giant, flashing road sign—Danger Ahead! Because, she already sensed—no, knew—there were problems, possibly some PTSD, if what she’d witnessed at the bar was any example. He’d spent twelve years at war, for heaven’s sake, who wouldn’t have issues? The old her would have been drawn like a magnet to a man with issues. But the new her knew better. Falling for Jake Lassen might be like walking directly onto the tracks as a train was coming.
Then again... it was Jake.
“At any rate, you can’t hide out here for the rest of your life either. You have to find yourself. Become yourself again.”
Olivia jerked a look at her mom. “Is this just your gentle way of saying you’re kicking me out?”
Jaycee shook her head. “No. We love having you here, safe, under our roof and away from... him. I missed you more than you can imagine. But just remember. It’s a landing spot, not a hiding place.”
Jaycee got up to go inside, but stopped and turned back to Olivia. “Oh, and you got another letter from New York.” She paused. “What does he want from you?”
Olivia slid her eyes shut. “I don’t care. Please just send it back. I don’t want to see it.”
Her mother nodded, looking relieved, and slipped into the house.
The sun glimmered like a steel mirror off the river just below the Old Road. Jake tightened his grip on Orca’s steering wheel. Above him, the sky stretched on for miles before jutting into the nearby Copper Mountain, so pretty and stark it made his insides ache. No skies like this back in Maryland, or even Seattle. The only place he’d seen the equal was in the deserts of Afghanistan and Iraq, where the days were either blistering or freezing, and nights were so dark, so full of stars, a man could lose himself in them and almost forget about war.
Almost, but never quite.
He thought about Olivia’s kiss, the deep, sweet slide of her tongue against his. He hadn’t thought about much else since. The softness of her skin against his, the sweet press of her breasts against his chest... even now he felt his blood heat, just remembering it.
He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, seeing her again after all these years. He hadn’t expected her to be the same girl he’d left here in Marietta. But neither had he anticipated that something had her scared. She’d been burned by her marriage, no doubt. But it felt like more.
He hadn’t spent twelve years of his life in a war without learning to recognize what he’d glimpsed in her eyes last night in the river—fear. But of what? Him? He didn’t think so. The possibility of what could happen between them? Maybe. But if he didn’t miss his guess, there was more, much more, than she was telling him. He’d just have to get to the bottom of whatever it was.
They’d crossed a line last night that couldn’t be uncrossed and he intended to spend the next week or two convincing her she was wrong about men in general, but more specifically about—
Jake slammed his foot on the brake!
He jerked a hand out to catch Monday from flying off her seat and fishtailed to a stop a few feet from...
...a red and silver soda can lying in the road.
He blinked hard and swore.
Of course it was just a damned, empty soda can. Lying on a back road in Montana. It was nothing else. But the cold sweat that had broken out on him was accompanied by the familiar chimpanzee using his insides as a punching bag.
Soda cans were a favorite among insurgents to house IED’s on the roads of Kandahar or Kabul. Cans, toys, and baby car seats and... other things he didn’t want to remember.
There were no trip wires here. No grenades with pulled pins inside waiting to take the bottom of the truck he was riding in out. Or missiles trying to knock his chopper out of the sky. He was in Marietta. Safe.
And he wasn’t a soldier anymore.
Monday whined and licked his face. He took her by the neck and hugged her. As was her way, she allowed it and licked his ear. That calmed him, forced the chimpanzee back in its cage.
“Sorry, girl.”
He gripped the steering wheel hard, staring down the road. Things like this still happened to him now and then. Less now than when he’d first come back, since his leg had healed. But if it wasn’t an innocent soda can lying by the side of the road, it was a dream that sucker-punched him in the middle of the night, or an old acquaintance, buying him a drink in a bar.
He pulled back on the road and started driving, but his peace was gone.
When he’d gone five miles or so, he slowed and pulled into the open gates of the Marietta cemetery. He took the familiar drive up the hill to where a huge pine sheltered the stones planted underneath.
He stopped the truck near the markers etched with the names William and Kelly Lassen. He reached behind him and pulled some flowers from the backseat and let Monday out.
His parents’ graves were well-tended because he paid for them to be so, and in a spot that overlooked the river and valley below. He liked to think they would have been pleased with this place. Not that it mattered to them now. They were long gone to somewhere better. But it felt good to come here and talk to them. He couldn’t really say why.
Sometimes his parents came to him in dreams—good dreams—and they’d have long talks about everyday things, as if they had just come down to the kitchen for coffee and settled around his table. Sometimes there was no talk at all, only relief at seeing them again. And t
hen, he’d wake and find them gone.
He placed roses on his mother’s grave, arranged them in the permanent container and stepped back.
“Well,” he said, in a low voice, “I made it back. God knows how, but I figured you two must have been watching over me. I’m sorry I haven’t come here sooner. Had a hard time coming.”
He sat down on the granite bench beside the stones and leaned down, with his elbows on his knees. “I suppose you saw all of it. The crash, everything. Sorry, Mom, for the scare. I did my best to fly us out of that attack, but... I hope you two showed up for them. The boys who came your way.”
He scrubbed a hand across his forehead. Even now, when he closed his eyes, he could hear the whine of the Taliban mortar rip out a chunk of the MH-60 he’d been flying that day. Still feel the terrible shudder of the crippled chopper as it slipped out of his control less than half a click from base. The terror of seeing the ground rush up to meet them still echoed somewhere deep inside him and sometimes woke him at night. Just like Brody and Link’s screams for help did, coming from behind the licking blue and orange flames erupting in the ruined tangle of metal which, only seconds before, had been his chopper—
Jake snapped his eyes open and took a deep breath, forcing the memory away, tucking it into the place he’d resigned it to. And, mostly, it seemed content to stay there. But not here in this place, amongst ghosts.
For a long time, he stared out across the valley, listening to the sound of water rushing over the stones. Monday lay down atop his dad’s grave and stretched out. Jake reached down to scratch her. “You would’ve liked this dog, Dad. Looks like she’s already likes you.”
Above him, a Stellar’s jay peered down at him and ruffled its black and blue feathers. Jake smiled as his chest tightened. “I suppose you both already know I saw Olivia last night, too. She’s turned into a beauty, hasn’t she? Yeah. She’s dead set against us, but I don’t think she knows what she wants. Something has her spooked.” He grinned. “Pardon the pun. But I have a feeling she could bear a little watching over, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Anyway, I’m not planning on failing, but if this doesn’t work out,” he said at last, “I’ve decided I’m gonna sell the house. Your house. Pull up stakes here once and for all. I can’t really think of another reason to stay besides Olivia.”
A Cowboy to Remember Page 4