C.J. mounted a horse called Blue and rode him out. He had to be the best rider here, except for Hank. He jumped off the bronc and strode to the fence.
Janey peered around Hank and the cowboys leaning over the fence, slapping C.J. on the back and shoulders. C.J. looked happy. Another practice, another day C.J. survived. She should tell him how proud she was of him. Then she remembered how edgy and cantankerous he’d been with her all afternoon and decided, no. Not a chance.
He’d probably snap at her again when she was only trying to be nice.
She felt Hank watching her and looked up at him.
Shoot.
Hank bumped her hip with his own.
Shoot.
Janey sighed. How could Hank see feelings in her for C.J. that she barely recognized herself?
ON SATURDAY MORNING, Janey lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, cradling the tiny stuffed bear she’d bought for Cheryl just after her birth. Max Golden’s warning rang through her memory.
Through the small window, the day looked bright and clear, perfect for a powwow.Footsteps mounted the stairs to the third floor, shuffled down the hallway and stopped in front of her bedroom. Someone pounded on the door.
“Come in,” she called.
Hank opened the door and peeked around it. “You coming down for breakfast, sleepyhead? Hannah’s porridge will be hard as cement if you don’t hurry.”
A streak of caramel wove its way from his widow’s peak through his thick dark hair. Amy was such a lucky woman to love an awesome guy like Hank. Oh, great. First, she envies the woman for her baby and now for her husband.
“I’m not coming down for breakfast,” she said. “I’ll get some toast later.”
Hank frowned. “You okay?” he asked. “I’ve never known you to pass on a meal.”
This was just the excuse she needed to get out of going today.
“I don’t feel so good. I’m not going to the powwow today.”
Janey wanted to wipe the worry from his face, but she just couldn’t go today. As much as she’d like to spit in Max’s face, she couldn’t bring trouble to Hank and Amy, especially not with a neighbor. She didn’t want to force them to take sides. Best to not go.
“What’s wrong?” Hank asked. “You have a fever?”
“No. It’s my stomach. It hurts.”
“You want an Alka Seltzer or something? Some Tums?”
“No. That won’t fix what’s wrong with me today.” She hoped he would believe it was a womanly problem. She knew that would embarrass Hank and he’d let it go.
“Oh,” he said, and sure enough, blushed. He backed through the doorway. “Okay. You take care of yourself.”
He turned to leave, then looked over his shoulder. “You want me to come back later to check on you?”
Janey smiled. Oh, Hank, you’re too old and like a father to me, but I wish there were more men in the world like you. “No. Just have fun.”
He smiled and left the room, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.
There. It was done. She’d lied to her best friend. An hour later, after she heard the cars and school buses leave with the family, Hannah, the ranch hands and this month’s batch of kids, she crawled out of bed and got dressed in ancient sweatpants and one of Hank’s old plaid shirts.
She washed up and applied her makeup, but when she turned to leave the room, she stopped and turned back to the mirror.
No one was around. So why put on makeup? Good question.
Why did she put it on?
Not only couldn’t she stand to have other people see who she really was, she couldn’t even face herself and accept who she was.
The makeup and clothes were more than armor to protect her vulnerability from the crap life dealt, from people hurting her; they also hid her shame, that emotion she refused to look at because she didn’t have a clue how to get over it.
As always, like acid, the feeling burned a hole in her stomach. Her hands shook. Why hadn’t she recognized before how much of her still lived in shame over something that had never been her fault or her choice?
She turned away, abruptly. Get your shit together. Don’t get sucked into all of that psychological type of stuff. Forget about it.
Walking down the stairs to the first floor in the rare quiet of the house, she missed the children’s chatter and their distraction. She stood still, suddenly realizing that she had never been in this house when not one other soul was present. She’d be alone for the day. She’d become too used to all of the people on Hank’s ranch, to being surrounded by children.
Can’t live with them and can’t live without them.
She’d never have another child because she couldn’t have sex, didn’t want touching, and would never get married. So…she would live alone.
Oh, man, oh, man, that hurt.
She’d better get used to it. Soon she’d be settled into the apartment in town, where she’d spend her non-working hours by herself.
She could be crazy about a guy like C.J., but the relationship would never go anywhere. She was damaged goods and no decent man deserved that.
The town was right. She shouldn’t be anywhere near C.J. So, it was a good thing she wasn’t going to the powwow.
On that thought, she entered the empty kitchen and made herself toast and a coffee. Wandering out to the veranda, she sat on a wicker chair and ate, contemplating the beauty of Hank’s ranch. Golden fields stretched to the horizon, where the gray and mauve of distant hills merged with a blue sky dotted with white cotton-candy puffs of clouds.
Perfect day for a powwow.
A horse whinnied in the stable. She supposed all of the chores had been done. She set her empty plate and coffee cup onto a wicker table.
Nothing to do. Too bad the store was closed.
She rose and wandered to the two Adirondack chairs under the huge weeping willow on Hank’s front lawn. She sat on one, rested her head on the high back and watched sunlight play hide and seek with the wind-shimmered leaves.
Green and supple and clean, those dancing leaves calmed a corner of her soul. She wished she could grab a bunch of them with her always and that they stayed alive forever, like a small bundle of hope, so that everywhere she went their promise of renewal would stay with her.
Her eyes closing, she wondered what C.J. and Liam were doing at the powwow and if they missed her.
HOLDING LIAM’S HAND—it’d been a struggle to get Liam to let him—C.J. wove through the crowds milling on Max’s land. The dull roar of dozens of conversations drifted around him.
Max had outdone himself this year. His best powwow yet.Huge teepees stood erect and exotic on the trimmed lawns.
Dancers in Native American ceremonial dress performed to the beat of drums, their soft leather and beaded clothing and long feathered headdresses stunning in the Montana sunlight.
Rows of barbecues held bison burgers and steaks, and the scent of charred meat drifted on the breeze.
Huge buckets of water and corn cobs boiled atop propane stoves.
“You hungry?” he asked Liam.
No answer. Story of their life together.
C.J. passed a table of condiments. He remembered Janey’s appetite at lunch this week, her generous use of the free cream and ketchup. She was going to love this.
That thought stopped him cold. Why did he care what she felt about anything? But he kept looking around and realized he was watching for her.
He wandered the grounds until he saw Hank and Amy and their baby.
“Hey,” he said. “Is that little Michael?”
“Yes.” Amy pulled the blanket away from the baby who snuggled in some kind of harness that Amy wore on her front. C.J. saw a tiny head and two miniature, closed eyes. Kid was asleep.
“Cute little guy.” He wished he’d seen Liam when he was that young.
Amy beamed. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a prouder mother.
“Where’s Janey?” He tried to make the question sound nonchalant.
<
br /> “She’s at home,” Hank said. “Sick.”
“Sick?” Alarm shot through him.
Hank raised a placating hand. “Nothing serious. She’ll probably be fine tomorrow.”
Damn. He nodded to Hank and Amy and went on his way. Too bad Janey was missing this.
Dad stood with Max beside the drinks table. C.J. sauntered over and greeted them.
Max clapped him on the shoulder, full of bluff good cheer. “You having a good time?” C.J. suspected he’d probably already had more than a couple of beers.
“Max, this is your best powwow yet. Great job.” He shook Max’s hand. When he tried to pull it away, Max held on.
“Listen, C.J.,” he said, sliding close and bathing C.J. with beer breath. “I hope you appreciate the favor I did for you.”
C.J. smiled. “Favor? What favor?”
“You know.” Max jabbed him in the ribs. Dad grabbed Max by his other arm, but Max shook him off. “With that young woman. You know, getting her off your case.”
C.J. got a sick feeling in his gut.
“What do you mean, getting her off my case?”
Dad said, “Max, maybe you shouldn’t—” but Max was too far gone to realize what he was doing wrong.
“Told her she couldn’t come today. Told her she wasn’t welcome on my land.”
A terrible cold seized C.J. “You told her not to come?” He felt deep anger, but sounded deadly calm. He flung an arm out to encompass their surroundings. “To an event that everyone else in town is invited to?”
Max must have sensed he’d been indiscreet. He pulled away from C.J.
“Every single person from three or four counties is welcome,” C.J. said, “but you told Janey she couldn’t come?”
The hottest lava flooded his body, surged into his veins. He clenched his fists for fear he might truly hurt the man.
“Of all the petty, narrow-minded stunts—” He couldn’t go on with the lava filling his throat.
Max looked bewildered, turned to Dad, who stared at the ground, his mouth a thin line of disappointment.
Dad reached for C.J., but C.J. flinched away. “Did you ask him to do this?”
Dad shook his head, but C.J. didn’t know what to believe.
“I only told him about my concerns.” The Reverend looked ashamed, but was it true?
“C.J., I’m sorry, I—” Max stretched a hand toward C.J., then dropped it.
C.J. should be happy that she wasn’t here today. She made him crazy when she was near. Or rather, his feelings did. He hated that she’d kept her daughter away from the child’s father and yet, day after day she seemed so decent, calm and patient with Liam and even with C.J., despite the countless ways he behaved like a bear.
“This is too unfair,” he said. “Too mean-spirited.” He should leave it alone, but couldn’t. “I’m going to get Janey and bring her back here. Got it?”
“I really wish you wouldn’t,” Dad said. “For your own sake.”
“I’m getting her for her own sake. If she was looking forward to this, she deserves to be involved as much as anyone else here.”
Max’s answering nod looked sheepish, the high cheekbones of his Native American heritage turning darker.
“Go,” he said. “Get her. Bring her here.”
“Damn right I will. Dad, watch Liam for me.” He didn’t give his father a chance to say no.
C.J. stalked away, past the barbecues and the teepees and the dancers, plowing a single-minded path through the crowds, not stopping when someone called to him.
In the field that served as a parking lot, he jumped into his Jeep and left the Golden ranch, spinning his wheels in gravel when he turned onto the highway and sped to the Sheltering Arms Ranch.
CHAPTER NINE
C.J. FOUND JANEY in a chair on the lawn under the weeping willow.
Asleep.She looked so young in sleep. No sharp edges or belligerence or attitude. What made her tick? Why wasn’t she this pretty, soft woman all of the time?
“What happened to you?” he whispered.
The high ponytail she’d pulled her long hair into made her look younger still. Her body, though, was a woman’s body, ripe and full.
He touched her forearm, found her skin every bit as soft as he’d imagined, and whispered, “Janey.”
JANEY FLOATED in a lovely, lovely dream. C.J. was there and his chocolate velvet voice whispered her name. They walked through a grassy field toward a windrow of trees and shrubs.
C.J. showed her a way through to the other side, where a pond surrounded by weeping willow trees baked in the lazy sun of a summer afternoon. Pale slim leaves dotted the shore of the pond, circled idly on the water.Sunlight glinted from the surface.
A cicada called in a silence colored only by the soft shush of a small waterfall at the far end. The scent of the sweetest flowers drifted by.
She’d never seen such a beautiful spot.
They took off their clothes—she her Goth and C.J. his button-down starchiness—and stepped into the water, just two naked people free of fear or pretence, C.J. tall and strong and tanned, her own body round and white, soft in some areas, strong in others.
Only themselves.
They slipped underwater holding hands. C.J. moved like a sleek otter, pulling her through water warm on the surface and cool in its depths.
They came up for air.
C.J. ran his fingers through his long hair, sluicing water off and back into the pond. She did the same with her own long hair.
She lifted her weightless legs and floated on the surface, letting the sun heat her pale body.
“Janey,” C.J. whispered beside her.
She reached for his face. It hovered into view, blocking out the sun.
“Janey,” he whispered again, his face mere inches from her own. Maybe he would kiss her. Please, yes. She formed her lips into a soft pucker and waited for him.
When he did nothing, she grasped the back of his head and pulled him close.
“Janey!” His voice sounded loud and…desperate.
She opened her eyes. C.J.’s face blocked the light of the sky, his brown eyes gazed into her own with an intensity she’d never seen before. She’d never noticed the small lines of darker brown in his irises.
He smelled like fresh air and one of his mints. She smiled.
“Hey, sweetheart,” she whispered and laid the palm of her hand against his face. As corny as it sounded, she’d always wanted to have a sweetheart of her own.
A rough hand on her shoulder shook her to awareness.
“C.J.?” she asked, trying to look past him. She was sitting in full sun, the shade of the willow tree yards behind her now that the sun had changed position with the advancing afternoon.
As if his skin scalded her, she jerked her hand away from his cheek.
Seized by the horror of what she’d done—she’d called him sweetheart out loud—she slammed her hand across her mouth.
He flew away from her, turned his back and stood in the unrelenting sun. Air hissed between his teeth.
“Oh,” she moaned. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said, and he sounded breathless, as if he’d run a great distance. “You were dreaming and I surprised you.”
He was being kind, understanding, but she couldn’t shake off the mood of the dream, or the fact that he’d caught her dreaming of him. Maybe he didn’t know that, though. Maybe he thought she’d been dreaming of someone else. Please, please, please think that.
“I’m here to take you to the powwow,” he said, his breathing under control now.
“I can’t go.”
He came to her, bent forward and rested his hands on the wide arms of the chair.
“Listen, I talked to Max and he’s real sorry for saying you weren’t welcome. He said it’s okay for you to be there.”
She shook her head. Awake now, her spirit raised its figurative head. Figurative. She had to save that word for Hank.
“Max Golden c
an kiss my butt. I’m not going where I haven’t been welcome.”
C.J. hung his head, then straightened away from her. She knew he heard the implacability in her tone. Implacability. Another good word for Hank.
“So you’re going to miss everything?” he asked. “The dance, too?”
Dance? Oh, she would love to go to a dance. She’d missed all of that in high school. Damn Max Golden.
“I guess,” she muttered.
“But why?” C.J. spread his arms wide. “It’s not even on Max’s property.”
Janey sat forward. “It isn’t?”
“No, it’s at the Legion Hall. Beside the church.”
“Oh, it’s your father’s place.” She sat back, deflated.
“Not my father’s place.” C.J. looked as though he wanted to give her a good shake. “It belongs to the whole town. Everyone is allowed to attend the town dances.”
When she didn’t answer, he forged on, “Dad said he didn’t know that Max had talked to you. I believe him.”
“Should I trust him?”
“I think so.” C.J. nodded. “Yeah. You should.”
He folded one hand into a fist and wrapped his other hand around it.
“So, will you come?” Why did he look so hopeful? Maybe he felt really bad about what Max had done to her.
A dance. Oh, she would love that. She’d never gone to one single dance in her life.
“Okay,” she said, perking up. “I’ll go.”
C.J. smiled. “Great. I’ll pick you up at seven.” He strode to his Jeep.
“Whoa, wait.” Janey jumped out of the chair and ran after him. No way should she spend time alone with him, especially not after that dream.
“I’m not going with you.” She couldn’t possibly sit at home waiting for him to pick her up, like they were on a date or something. Uh-uh. No way. “I’ll walk in.”
“What? C’mon, I don’t mind picking you up.”
The thought of sharing his small vehicle for the drive into town unnerved her. No. She didn’t want that.
“That’s really great of you, but no, thanks. I’ll walk into town.” She turned to head inside, not giving him another chance to argue.
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