Taylor smiled and told the nurse her patient was ready to get back to work. Her hand slid along the smooth oak banister as she slowly made her way down the stairs. Although the weight from years of carrying emotional baggage around had miraculously been lifted from her shoulders with Mama’s genuine apology, uneasiness still settled in her gut.
Could it be true? Was it possible Jamie had not committed suicide? The news of her death hadn’t come as a surprise two months ago, considering Jamie’s years of drug abuse and other unseemly activities she’d participated in since her teenage years. It had only been a matter of time before it all caught up with her, Taylor had sadly known. But Mama’s insistence just now that Jamie hadn’t killed herself lay heavy on her mind.
There was no denying the timing didn’t add up—if Mama was right. If Jamie had been getting her act together for the first time in her life, it made no sense to end it all when she was at her highest point.
Taylor shook her head, still reeling from learning that Jamie had taken up photography. For as long as she could recall, Jamie accused Taylor of being jealous of her, but had it actually been the other way around?
Taylor was the one who’d known early on that she wanted to earn a living taking pictures when she grew up. She’d gotten good grades in school and always worked a part-time job. She’d also participated in the local rodeos and won blue ribbons and belt buckles. Proud of her gumption, hard work, focus and discipline, Daddy had bought her first camera for her, which she still had today, bagged and stored away for safekeeping.
From as early as she could remember, Jamie’s interests had centered on boys, makeup, clothes, and having fun. She smoked her first cigarette at age twelve, took her first drink at thirteen, and slept with her first boy at fifteen. And unlike Taylor who’d felt comfort in mucking stalls and had thrived in the competition of the rodeos, Jamie had hated all of it, which had won her Daddy’s displeasure and disapproval. And as much as Taylor hated to admit it, his indifference.
She sat on the bottom step and rested her chin in her fists. Maybe Mama was right. Taylor had been Daddy’s favorite because they’d been so much alike. Had Jamie been trying to seek Daddy’s attention and win his approval all her life? Was that why she’d acted out?
Carson Young had been one tough man. He’d not been afraid of anyone or anything, and had been known throughout the county as a man who didn’t go out of his way to start a brawl, but he’d sure enough finish one, especially if a friend was involved.
As a girl, Taylor had thought he was a super hero and would live forever. Even after the farm truck had backed over him and broken both his legs and punctured his lung, he hung on for two days before passing away. That’s the kind of person he’d been. You had to be strong yourself to live with a man like that—and to earn his respect.
Jamie had never been that strong. Had her insecurities and believing she was a disappointment to their father resulted in her lifelong destructive behaviors? And possibly her own death?
An invisible thread seemed to tug on Taylor’s head, drawing her gaze upward. A chill danced across her skin, raising the delicate hairs on her arms. Sitting on the back of one of the couches in the great room with her legs crossed was a barefoot Jamie—or, at least, another ghostly vision of her. Dressed in an ankle-length gauzy white skirt and peasant blouse, her red hair was cut in a layered, shaggy style and streaked with blonde, just as Brett had mentioned. She smiled and waved at Taylor and then faded away like dust on a windy day.
Taylor rubbed her knuckles over her eyes, realizing she must be very tired. Or else, the stirring up of old memories and feelings was causing her to hallucinate. The sound of approaching footsteps snapped her out of her reverie.
“How did your visit with your mother go?” Will asked. He offered her a hand up from the step.
“It went…fine,” she said, still unbelieving and feeling like a light was beaming inside her. “After a lot of talking and tears, we were able to clear the air and we’ve started fresh. Remarkable, I know, but it’s true. And I feel great about it.” She smiled, realizing her sentiment was sincere.
He grinned broadly and drew her into his chest. “That’s wonderful! Life is too short for families to be separated.”
She nodded, understanding. “I’m sorry, Will. After Dad died and you and Mama married, you always treated me like your own daughter. I appreciate all you’ve done for our family—and for the ranch. And I apologize for staying away so long.”
“Oh, honey. There’s no need to apologize to me. There are usually a few bumps in the winding road of life that families travel. This was one of them, but hopefully the path will be smoother from now on. You and Jamie have always been special to me. I made a promise to your dad long before he died that I’d take care of all of you if anything ever happened to him. I’ve made some mistakes, but I’ve done what I could to give your mother a good life and to help you girls.”
Taylor smiled. “You and Dad were best friends for many years.”
“Yep. Since we were partners on the rodeo circuit. We were buddies long before he met your mom.” Will drifted back into time with his thoughts. “We met Nancy in a little diner in Cody, Wyoming. She was the best looking waitress either of us had ever seen.”
Taylor had heard the story numerous times through the years, but she never tired of it.
“Yes ma’am, your mother was the prettiest little filly in all of four states. She had the longest lashes and those pouty ruby red lips. And she was a spitfire, too. She didn’t take any guff from the customers, or from the boss. Your dad and I both liked her, but she only had eyes for your father back then.” He laughed. “I was shy and kind of backward. But Carson, that devil. He always had a way with the ladies. There was something different—special about Nancy. Carson fell for her hard and asked her to marry him the third morning we had breakfast there. Nancy was pouring me a cup of coffee when he proposed, and dag gum if she didn’t pour the hot brew straight into my lap!”
Taylor laughed with Will. “You know the ending to that story,” he said.
“She untied her apron and threw it on the counter and told her boss ‘I quit’ and then her and Dad went to the courthouse and got married later that afternoon.”
“That’s right.” Will nodded his head. “They had to tie the knot that very day because we were leaving for Colorado after the rodeo that night and her pa wouldn’t allow her to go with us without a marriage certificate in her hand.”
Taylor knew her parents had been happily married, even if she hadn’t understood what had attracted them to each other in the first place, aside from their comely physical attributes, with which they’d both been endowed. They seemed to have had nothing else in common, and their frequent arguments had been loud and passionate and punctuated by the banging of pots and pans and the slamming of doors. But the fights had never lasted long, and Taylor and Jamie always knew when their folks were making up because Mama and Daddy would run upstairs giggling like children and hollering, “Do not disturb!” before locking their bedroom door behind them.
Each fight had caused Taylor to wonder if that was the one that would end with Mama and Daddy deciding to get a divorce. Her fears would be alleviated for a time—only to surface again when the next argument began.
Her parents divorcing had been a big concern for her when she was growing up. People, especially the so-called religious ones in Prosperity, gossiped about folks who couldn’t make their marriages last, as if they had committed a mortal sin. And the handful of single mothers who’d dared to go on a date after they’d split from their husband were called names even Jamie wouldn’t repeat. Taylor had never wanted that to happen to her family. Turned out, she’d done all that worrying for nothing. Mama and Daddy never did divorce. Daddy had died before it could happen.
Taylor never dreamed she’d end up divorced herself. The image of her ex flashed in her mind. That rat bastard had ruined not only her belief in marriage, but also her belief in humankind for a whi
le. Once she’d received the Divorce Decree, she’d framed it and vowed never to be suckered into that again.
Mentally, she lit a match to her former husband’s face and smiled. His image disintegrated like ash, only to be replaced with the rugged face of that tall drink of water in a cowboy hat, Brett Austin. A prickly sensation moved through Taylor’s stomach. While she had no intention of walking down the aisle a second time, she certainly wasn’t opposed to a passionate fling every now and then—especially with a man as good looking as Will’s foreman.
She forced herself to return to the conversation with Will when he jiggled her arm. She gazed at him and couldn’t recall ever having heard him and Mama argue once in their marriage. “When did you come to work for Dad here on the Slash Y?” she asked, sensing Will was enjoying talking about the old days.
“Oh, you girls were about seven and eleven years old, I guess. My rodeo partnership with Carson ended soon after your folks got married—I was a third wheel, you know. I went off and worked ranches in Colorado, Wyoming, and South Dakota. Your dad and I lost track of each other through the years. Then after he got this ranch established, somehow he learned where I was and called me one day out of the blue and told me he needed a foreman. He asked if I’d like the job. I said, hell yes, I’d like it. I drove day and night, straight through from South Dakota. Got here and I never left. We had some good times here on this ranch.”
“Then Daddy died,” Taylor said.
Will nodded. “You were how old then?”
“Seventeen when he passed. Jamie was thirteen.”
“That’s right. Time has slipped away.”
“When did you fall in love with Mama?” she asked.
Will smiled. “I think I fell in love with your mother the first time I saw her in that Cody diner. But like I said, I was shy.”
“So, obviously, you believe in love at first sight.”
“I suppose you could say that. But it wasn’t meant to be at the time. Her and your dad had many happy years together.”
“You and Mama have almost got sixteen years in now.”
His eyes lit up. “Don’t know what I did to deserve such a fine woman.”
Taylor lowered her voice to a whisper. “Will, if you don’t mind, I’m going to change the subject. Mama just told me something shocking. She doesn’t think Jamie committed suicide. She believes someone may have murdered her.” She watched him closely for his reaction.
Will ran a hand through his silver hair and sighed. “She’s spoken to me about it. No mother wants to imagine her child being so miserable that she’d take her own life. Jamie’s death was a terrible shock to us both. But the coroner found alcohol and barbiturates in her bloodstream. As much as it pains me, there appears to be no doubt that it was suicide.”
Taylor thought it over. She repeated what her mother had said about Jamie being clean and sober for six months, having a new boyfriend, and preparing for a photography exhibit. “How do you explain that?” she asked. “Why would a woman with such positive stuff going on in her life decide to kill herself?”
“I don’t know,” Will admitted with a shrug. “I’ve told Nancy she’s mistaken about the sobriety. The results from the coroner were conclusive.”
“Who is this boyfriend of Jamie’s? Do you know him?”
Will rubbed the back of his neck with his fingers. “He’s a Native American. Adam something.”
“You don’t recall his last name?”
“No. We only met him once or twice. I doubt he’d tell you much even if you could locate him. If Jamie had still been using drugs, he wouldn’t be honest about it. He might also be an addict. That was the kind of people she hung out with.”
A noise above them captured Taylor’s attention. Chelsea peeked over the railing. Taylor wondered how much of the conversation with Will she’d heard. And just how close had the nurse become with Mama and Will?
“Excuse me, Mr. Banner, but Mrs. Banner would like to see you if you’re not busy.”
He nodded. “Be right up.”
“Go on,” Taylor urged. “I’m going to get settled in. I’ve decided to stay for a while.”
Will squeezed her shoulder. “That’s great, Taylor. Your old room is ready for you. Rest up and I’ll see you at supper.”
She walked through the great room to the kitchen, touching the top of the leather couch as she passed by and thinking about Jamie. There was no indentation, but Taylor was sure her spirit had been there.
She stepped into the kitchen, and to her surprise, she found it had been completely remodeled. Granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, new maple cabinets, ceramic tile floors, and a modern breakfast set brightened the formerly outdated space. “I guess the ranch is doing pretty well for Will to afford this.” She wondered if they still employed a cook. Hopefully, since her mother had never been much of one, even without a broken hip.
She crossed the room and flung open the door that opened into the laundry room and let out a yelp.
“Did I scare you, Taylor?” Brett said.
“As a matter of fact, you did.” She threw her hand over her heart and raked him from head to toe. “I didn’t expect to find you lurking at the door.”
“Sorry about that. But for your information, I wasn’t lurking. You make me sound like a peeping Tom.” He set down her travel bag and dangled the rental car keys in front of her. “The car is parked in the driveway outside the door.” He hooked his thumb behind him. “No problems. It started right up, as I knew it would.”
“Thanks.” When she reached for the keys, he snatched them back, teasing her once and then again. She rolled her eyes and sighed, although she secretly liked his good humor and playful nature. She clicked her tongue and held out her palm, and he dropped the keys onto it.
“You sure pack light, don’t you?” he said, eyeing the small bag.
“I wasn’t planning on staying but a day or two when I originally decided to come.”
“That’s too bad. I thought I might show you around the town.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “I know the town. I grew up in Prosperity, remember?” Her heart pounded with an insane rhythm when he cocked a grin.
“Oh, right. Well, I still could have shown you around. Things might have changed since you were here last.”
“I doubt that. Not much changes in Prosperity.” Their gazes locked and she nibbled her bottom lip. “As a matter of fact, I’ve decided to stay a few more days.”
“Is that so?” From the way his smile widened, it seemed he was pleased by the news.
She nodded. “I guess we could go to town together. I need to pick up a few items anyway, since I packed so light. I’m not even sure I remembered to throw in a toothbrush.”
“Great. I’m ready when you are.”
“You mean, right now?”
“Sure. Why not? Are you too tired?”
“No. I’m good. Do you have to tell Will you’re leaving?”
“Nope.”
When he didn’t expound further, she said, “Okay. Give me ten minutes to take my bag upstairs and freshen up.”
“Sure. I’ll wait outside for you.”
Taylor picked up her bag and strolled back through the kitchen purposefully swaying her hips and wondering—hoping—he was getting an eye full.
Chapter Eight
Taylor’s breath caught in her throat upon entering her childhood bedroom. Like a shrine, Mama had kept everything the same. She’d thought, after years of not hearing from her, Mama might have pitched a fit and finally decided to toss everything into the trash. Taylor sure was glad she hadn’t.
The bed frame still squeaked, she noticed upon bouncing up and down on the mattress. The same pale pink Swiss polka dot curtains were tied back from the window. The bulletin board where she’d pinned photos she’d taken of friends still hung above the roll-top desk that had belonged to Grandma Young. The carpet had not been updated, nor had the pink walls been repainted.
She smiled,
remembering how Jamie had relentlessly teased her about pink being for babies. Jamie’s favorite color had been red, of course. Red for fire. Red for passion and anger.
Taylor’s gaze wandered to the bookcase where her rodeo awards sat on the shelves. She rose from the bed and let her fingers dance over the belt buckles and ribbons she’d won. Pride swelled her breast. She hadn’t taken the awards with her when she’d married and left home because it had seemed silly to move her girlhood things into the apartment she’d be sharing with her new husband. At the time, the past hadn’t meant as much as what the future held.
When she opened the closet door, she was surprised to find a pair of her old cowboy boots in the corner and even some clothes hanging on the rack. After sorting through the odd assortment of pieces, she knew they wouldn’t do, even for a week on the ranch. Maybe Mama had been planning to give the clothes away to the Salvation Army and hadn’t gotten around to it yet.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Taylor slipped off her expensive heels and drew the boots onto her feet. The boots still fit, which pleased her. She tugged them off and unzipped her carry-on bag.
At least she’d had the good sense to pack a pair of jeans and extra underwear when she left L.A. But that was about it. She shimmied out of the slacks and into the jeans and stuck her feet back into the boots. She carried her toiletry bag into the Jack and Jill bathroom she’d shared with Jamie growing up. Not sure if she had the guts to go into Jamie’s bedroom, relief spread through her body when she tried the inside knob and found the door locked.
Taylor glanced at her watch, realizing she was keeping Brett waiting. After cleaning her teeth and raking a hairbrush through her long hair, she glossed her lips to a light pink shine. Then she grabbed her purse and 35 mm digital camera from her bag and closed the bedroom door behind her. Not finding Will in his office or anywhere downstairs, she scribbled a quick note telling him she’d gone to town and left it on the kitchen counter.
From the back door, Taylor saw Brett leaning against an old blue pickup truck. With his cowboy hat tipped forward to shade his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest, and his feet crossed at the ankles, she wasn’t sure if he was awake or asleep standing up, like a horse. She slammed the back door and laughed when he jerked.
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