Return to Homecoming Ranch (Pine River)

by Julia London

  “That might be the kind of woman you keep company with,” Sam said. “But there are lots of great women out there who wouldn’t care about a leg.”

  “Like hell there is,” Tony said.

  “At least you’ve got a place to stay,” Sam reminded him, but Tony just shrugged. “I don’t want to be a damn charity case. That’s all I am, a damn charity case.”

  That simply wasn’t true. Sam assured Tony he was pulling his own weight around Homecoming Ranch and then some, but Tony wouldn’t hear it. Sam tried to convince Tony to call one of the military hotlines for mental health, but Tony scoffed at that. “So they can give me a pill and a Band-Aid? No thanks.”

  Tony talked a lot about the desire to drink, about the struggle to keep from helping himself to Ernest’s beer. Sam understood that all too well, and he felt prepared to talk him through that, to make sure he attended his meetings and kept busy. Sam called Tony twice a day. He did everything he knew to do to support his sobriety.

  But when Tony started to talk about killing himself, Sam felt out of his league.

  He worried.

  He worried about Libby, too, but it was a different sort of worry.

  Libby was bubbly and happy, content in their new relationship. She made him happy. There was something to be said for ending a long day with a pair of shiny silvery blue eyes and a pretty smile. She was always happy to see him, throwing her arms around his neck with a happy kiss. “Hey!” she would say, “How was your day? Do you like lasagna? I hope so, because I made a huge batch of it.”

  These days—busy and full, but easy—made Sam feel like he had finally reached the place he’d been searching for, a place he could relax. He felt safe in his new relationship.

  But his time with Libby wasn’t without little niggles of worry here and there. She told him about her first fundraising committee meeting and the things she’d overheard in the bathroom at the Methodist church. She told him how awkward the meeting itself had been, and how no one seemed to want to hear what she had to say.

  “You knew it would be tough,” he reminded her.

  “But I thought that once they saw me and heard my ideas, they would understand that I am there just to help.” She frowned thoughtfully. “Do you think that Gwen is being spiteful?”

  Sam didn’t think Gwen was the type, but then again, women had their own code of conduct that he didn’t understand. And it did seem to him that all the grunt work was falling to Libby. Somehow, she was the one running all the committee errands. “I have the time, you know, since I’m not working.”

  As far as Sam knew, a couple of the women on that committee didn’t work, either, but it was Libby who took care of the printing, of picking up the silent auction items. Anything that needed to be done, Libby ended up doing. She had always been the type to raise her hand and volunteer first, and ask questions second.

  Still, she was very determined in this particular venture, and Sam couldn’t help wondering if there was more going on than her desire to help Leo. He feared that perhaps Libby hadn’t let go of the Spanglers. It just seemed too easy after all she’d been through.

  He was happy that at least she was putting her energy into a new direction for Homecoming Ranch. She had sworn him to secrecy about her plans. “I have to have the plan together before I tell Madeline. The more t’s that are crossed the better.” She’d laughed at that.

  The days flew by, running together.

  One night, when Sam came home from breaking up a fight at a Tanner Creek campsite, he walked in to the smell of sizzling steaks. He and Libby were not officially cohabiting, but they were spending most of their time together, either at his house, or at the ranch. He was getting used to the smell of actual food emanating from his kitchen. A bowl of salad was on the table, too, and a pie was cooling on the counter. “Wow,” he said as he took off his coat. “What’s the occasion?”

  Libby was wearing an apron and a T-shirt that said “Pine River Chamber of Commerce” on the back. “You don’t know?”

  “No clue,” Sam said and bent his head to kiss her.

  “I’m a free woman, Lone Ranger. As in, no more restraining order. It expired today.” She did a little hop as she went back to the stove where something was cooking.

  “That’s great,” he said. “Fantastic news. I’m so glad that’s behind you.”

  “Me too!” she said cheerfully.

  Over dinner, they talked about his work and the interesting things she’d read about veteran rehabilitation centers that afternoon.

  Later, they were lying on Sam’s couch, watching the fire. Her head was on his shoulder, her leg draped over his. “What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked her.

  “I’m driving up to Aspen to pick up a contribution to the auction. Deb Trimble said that Gwen asked her if I would. Gwen won’t ask me herself.”

  “She’s probably a little leery of you.”

  “She shouldn’t be. I’ve done nothing but work my tail off for that committee.”

  Sam stroked Libby’s hair and brushed the end of one long tress against his cheek. “Maybe she wonders about it like I do,” he said.

  “About what?”

  “About your dedication to that committee.”

  He felt Libby’s body stiffen. She slowly pushed up and twisted around to face him. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because of the proximity to Gwen.” He shrugged. “I guess I wonder if you are really over that part of your life. If you have turned the page, so to speak.”

  She looked surprised. “Sam . . . of course I have. Isn’t it obvious?”

  “It’s obvious that you want to,” he said sincerely. “But it’s a big turnaround in just a few weeks.”

  Libby leaned back. “Don’t you trust me?”

  He didn’t know how to answer that. He wanted to trust her. He wanted more than anything to trust her completely. He needed to trust her. “Yeah,” he said. “I do.”

  And that’s what scared him.

  Libby pulled herself up and kissed him. “Good. Because you have nothing to worry about. Even if I saw the kids, I wouldn’t do anything.”

  She kissed him again, but something in her statement registered in Sam’s mind. And as Libby’s mouth began to move down his body, her fingers following the wet trail, he knew something was off in that statement. But his thoughts were lost in a haze of flesh and kisses, of fragrant skin and soft, dark hair, and it wasn’t until the next morning he realized what it was that bothered him. Even if I saw the kids, I wouldn’t do anything . . .

  Sam had not mentioned the kids. Libby had. And that statement sounded as if she had thought about seeing those children.

  He tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. To his dismay, he couldn’t do that completely.

  Sam was also worried that Libby’s sister Emma was going to disappoint her. That she’d been in contact with the elusive Emma was a surprise to everyone. One evening as they had dinner with Luke and Madeline, Libby announced that Emma was coming to help her.

  Madeline had almost spilled her wine when Libby said it. “What?”

  “I called her,” Libby said. “I really want this race to be a success, and Emma knows how to organize them.”

  “You called her and asked her to come help you and she said yes? Just like that?” Madeline asked.

  “I know, I was surprised, too,” Libby said. “I thought it was worth a shot—”

  “I mean, we’ve been struggling here, needing her help, and out of the clear blue, she decides to come help with the race?” Madeline continued incredulously. “That is . . . so wrong.”

  “It’s a fundraiser for Leo’s van,” Libby reminded her.

  “That’s great, Libby,” Luke said, and looked meaningfully at Madeline.

  “I know, but . . . but we have needed her and she couldn’t care less.”

  Madeline seemed bothered by it all night.

  Later, when Sam drove Libby back to his house, he asked, “So what’s going on with Emma? W
hy is Madeline upset?”

  “Oh,” Libby said, with a flick of her wrist. “Emma is . . . Emma. She and Madeline didn’t exactly hit it off when they first met.” She smiled ruefully. “She’s a very hard woman to understand, so I don’t blame Madeline for that. But I don’t take it as personally as Madeline.”

  Libby’s attitude was short-lived. As the days piled on top of one another, and Libby couldn’t get Emma on the phone to firm up her plans to come, Libby began to take it personally, too. Emma’s silence was hurtful, and while she didn’t say it, Sam could see that Libby was bewildered by it.

  He hesitated to ask about the race, but finally asked one night as they were cleaning the kitchen at the ranch. “How is the race shaping up?” he asked.

  “Ugh,” she said with a shake of her head. “It’s harder than I thought it would be. I could really use some help.” She tossed down the rag she was using to wash dishes. “I don’t understand why Emma won’t call me back.”

  “You might have to accept that she’s not coming,” Sam suggested, but the moment the words left his mouth, he saw the flash of emotion across Libby’s face.

  “She’ll come,” she said. “Maybe I wasn’t clear enough about the time line.”

  “Is there some way I can help?” he asked.

  “Really?” Libby asked hopefully. “I really need to do this, Sam. They think I can’t. They think that I’m nuts.” She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “It’s a great idea, right? And I think it’s the only thing we’ve got to raise enough money in a short amount of time.”

  “It’s a great idea,” he agreed, wrapping her in his arms.

  Sam wanted to make things better for Libby. But in some ways he felt powerless. Her issues seemed as complex as his own, scars that were formed over time, that ran too deep to clear up with simple encouragement. His heart warned him, told him that she wasn’t ready for this relationship, but Sam’s heart had already split open, had already let her in, growing new from the inside out.

  Libby had said once that no one let her in. Well, he had let her in.

  He had fallen in love with the curly-haired, blue-eyed woman. She’d brought a lightness to his life that he had desperately needed. Libby was his daily dose of effervescent happiness. She teased him, cajoled him, made love to him. She made him feel alive in a way he couldn’t remember ever feeling. Their connection felt as if it were on an elementally cellular level.

  On the eve of the silent auction, Libby was more distracted. There were dozens of little details that seemed to fall to her. Sam had seen some of the silent auction items and thought the group would be lucky to raise ten thousand dollars.

  “How about I drive you in tomorrow? We’ll swing by the city offices and get a permit for the race.” That was something he could do to help her, pull some strings with people he knew at the city.

  “Don’t you have to work?” she asked.

  “Yep. But I’m going out to Trace Canyon to talk to a man who might be hiring ranch hands. See if he wants to take on Tony.”

  “I thought Tony was going to help Ernest rebuild a fence.”

  Sam laughed. “How long do you think it takes to build a fence?”

  “I don’t know. It would take me a year, and that’s if I had a clue what I was doing. Maybe I should take my own car, Sam. We have a lot to do tomorrow before the silent auction and I don’t know how long I will be.”

  He caught her by the waist, pulling her into his chest. “I thought you liked riding with me,” he said, and kissed her.

  “Just seems a little convenient, deputy,” Libby said, dropping her head to one side so he could kiss her neck. “I think you might want to take advantage of me. Or make sure I stay out of trouble.”

  “I know you’re going to stay out of trouble,” he said. “Because you’ll have me to answer to if you don’t.” He put his hands on her waist and lifted her up; Libby wrapped her legs around his waist.

  “That doesn’t scare me,” she said, smiling.

  He turned around, put her on the edge of his bed and filled his hands with her breasts. “Don’t tempt me.”

  Libby grinned and put her arms around his neck. “I love it when you get all stern.”

  “I’m about to get very stern,” he said, and dipped his hand into the waist of her jeans and nudged her back, crawling over her, his body already thumping with want. Libby closed her eyes and sighed, and as usual, Sam forgot his niggling worries, let them float off to that place all worries went when he was making love to Libby.

  TWENTY-SIX

  The afternoon of the silent auction, Libby went into town early to help set up. Libby had to hand it to Gwen—she’d done a great job at putting the silent auction together. They anticipated a full house. Everyone in Libby’s life would be coming. Sam of course, as well as Madeline and Luke. Libby’s mother and her husband planned to attend as well. And naturally, the guest of honor, Leo, would come with the rest of the Kendricks and Marisol and Javier.

  Libby dressed in her best outfit—sleek black pants, a silky red top, and the black boots her mother had given her last Christmas. She was excited to announce the 5k race tonight. With Sam’s help, she’d gotten the permit from the city to close the same streets they’d used for a race last spring. Fleet Feet, the local running shop, was going to sponsor the race and had arranged for a local construction company to subsidize the cost of the T-shirts. Libby needed more sponsors to help pay for the race trinkets, the food, and the city costs for cleanup and crowd control, but she was optimistic that Michelle would make good on her promise to convince the bank to provide some support.

  Still, Libby tried to raise Emma one more time before she set off to town and the Grizzly to set up for the night’s event.

  You’ve reached Emma Tyler. Obviously, I’m not here. Leave a message. Or not.

  “Charming,” Libby muttered. At the beep, she said, “So, Emma . . . just wondering what the hell? You said you’d come and help me. I thought that meant you’d actually come to Pine River and help me. Would it be so hard for you to pick up the phone and tell me you’re not coming? Seriously, Emma—look around LA for your manners. Oh, FYI, don’t bother coming now. I’ve put the race together and turns out you were right. I didn’t need you.” She clicked off.

  The parking spots outside the Grizzly were filled with committee member cars. Inside, Libby walked in to complete chaos—everyone was stepping around everyone else in a frantic attempt to set up the auction items and tag them with the pretty handwritten calligraphy Karen had done.

  Gwen in particular seemed a little frantic.

  “She’s got her kid’s dance recital at five-thirty, and then the cocktail party starts here at six,” Karen explained when she caught Libby watching as Gwen dressed down one of the waiters on hand for the evening. “She doesn’t have a moment. In fact, she will miss most of the cocktail party to see her daughter’s dance recital, get dressed, and get back here in time to emcee. She’s just a little stressed,” she said laughingly.

  Libby remembered the promise she’d made to Alice, that she’d try and make her recital. More than anything, Libby wished she could see Alice dance. Of course, that was out of the question, given her relationship with Gwen and Ryan.

  She still missed Alice and Max so much. Sometimes, she could feel that ache in her bones. Sometimes, she would be awakened by the sound of one of them calling her name, a waking dream. Libby had not seen Alice or Max once in the last month, other than those times she drove by the school. They’d never come with Gwen to the meetings. No one had ever dropped them off to meet their mother.

  Libby turned away from Karen now, imagining Alice in her dance costume, a purple butterfly. She could picture her practicing the twirls and dips and bows she would be required to make, over and over again, up and down the hall. She could see Max behind her, his imaginary gun pointed at his sister, diving behind the hall table to hide.

  Libby pulled out the next auction item.

  “Gross,”
Karen said, looking over Libby’s shoulder. Libby looked at what she held in her hand. It was a stuffed quail to be set up with the hunting-lease display. Someone had already turned on an iPad which rotated pictures of happy hunters with dead bucks.

  “You know, I have to say, you’ve done a really good job,” Karen said to Libby as they arranged the items.

  She said it as if she had been expecting the complete opposite, and Libby could feel herself coloring. “Thanks,” she said. She wanted to tell Karen that she always did a good job, and one bad summer did not define a person.

  “I never put much stock into the talk that was going around town,” Karen said, her voice lower. “My first husband cheated on me, and let me tell you, it was a good thing he got to the butcher knife before I did. Okay, I’ve got to go help Deb get that sewing machine out of her car.”

  Libby appreciated the vote of confidence.

  The setup for the auction ran a little longer than they expected, and at the end, most everyone was hurrying out the door to dress for the evening. Libby had come dressed, as a drive back to Homecoming Ranch wasn’t practical. At four-thirty, only Gwen, Dani, and Libby were left.

  The room looked just about complete. Libby was thinking of popping into the Grizzly Café for some coffee when Gwen suddenly gasped, startling Dani and Libby.

  “The posters!” Gwen cried. “The big posters for the stage! They’re our displays!”

  “Posters of what?” Libby asked.

  “Of the van, of Leo. We had a big display made so everyone can see why we are raising money,” Gwen exclaimed, and began to search her purse for her phone. “They cost us a lot of money. They’re at the printer—I have to pick them up by five!”

  “You’ve got time to make it,” Dani said, looking at her watch.