“That’ll do.” Grimly, Nick fixed on a sinker, baited the hook with a chunk of frozen whatever, and dropped it in, careful not to foul his father’s line. Then he stared at where the line met the water, watching for telltale vibrations.
After a good stretch of chilly silence, his father said, “Coffee?”
“Are you offering me some or putting in your order?”
“Offering. Jeez, you’re touchy.”
“Coffee would be good.” He knocked back his first cup in three deep swallows, got a refill, and sucked back half before he let out a deep, gusty sigh. “Sorry I’m being a prick. She’s hurting, I’m hurting, and the whole situation sucks.”
“So why didn’t you want to keep things going once she left?”
“Do you really need to ask? You were the one who said there was no way I could make it work with Lily.”
“Jenny isn’t Lily.”
“Of course not, but there are more similarities than differences.”
“Are we talking about the women or the situation?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
That earned him a faintly pitying look. “You’re smarter than that, son.”
“Shut up and fish,” Nick said, figuring that would be the end of it. His father had never been big on giving advice in the romance department.
After a few minutes, though, his old man refilled his own coffee, took a sip, and said, “Your mother left me once.”
“She . . . What?”
“She left me. We had been married a few years, but she didn’t like Laramie much, or even Wyoming. She missed New England, missed her family, and got it in her head that I should buy into a practice back east. Even found me a couple to choose from.”
Nick stared, not quite comprehending the words that were coming out of his old man’s mouth. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“Neither did I. Wyoming is in my blood, my bones. I didn’t see how I could be happy anywhere else, and I didn’t understand how she could ask me to try. We fought about it, we discussed it, we even tried flipping a coin. But in the end we couldn’t agree—she wanted to go and I wanted to stay. So she went, and I stayed.”
“When was this?”
That got a grin out of his old man. “’Bout ten months before you were born. I lasted two very long weeks before I realized this was more about my pride than anything. So I sucked it up and hopped on a plane.” His teeth flashed. “Got there just as she finished packing to come home, having decided that home wasn’t home unless we were together.”
“In Wyoming.”
“That was how it wound up, sure, but I would’ve stayed there if she had wanted to. The other stuff just didn’t matter if she wasn’t there.” He glanced over. “That’s what I’ve been working on lately, figuring out how to make the other stuff matter without your mother in the picture.”
Nick did some of his own staring into the water, but then shook his head. “You guys were already married. Jenny and I are just getting to know each other.”
“So what’s the harm in continuing the process?” His father wiggled the line experimentally. “Or, to put it another way, what’s the worst that could happen? If the two of you stay in touch and things go sour in a couple of weeks or months, is breaking up then really going to be any worse than what you’re going through now?”
Jenny had asked him something similar and he hadn’t answered her, mostly because his gut said that it would be far worse in a few weeks or months, but his head wasn’t entirely sure why. Now, though, having slept on it, he was able to say, “What we’ve had together here worked perfectly because we both knew that it was just a short-term thing. It was easy.”
“Look, you lost your mom, Lily, and your old life all within a few months of each other. It’s only natural that you’re going to want to be a little careful putting yourself out there again. But if you don’t ever try, you’re going to wind up growing old alone.” His father made a pained face. “With a cat.”
“What’s wrong with falling for someone who wants to marry the local vet and live happily ever after above the clinic?”
“Absolutely nothing. Didn’t you say Ruth wanted to set you up with some locals?”
“Not interested,” Nick said flatly.
“Exactly. You might like small towns, son, but you’re not a small-town boy. That’s not saying you couldn’t find someone else to love, but in my experience, the kind of connection you and Jenny share isn’t something that comes along every day. I think you need to give it some credit, because the way I see it, Lily liked the adventure better with you in it. What if it turns out that Jenny likes you better than the adventure?”
Yeah, but what if she doesn’t? The thought was instinctive, and came from deep inside, along with a sharp stab of the hurt he’d taken to bed with him, the one he’d awakened with. The one that said he just plain wasn’t enough for her.
But that was Lily talking, not Jenny.
Jenny loved his country-vet lifestyle, his zip-tied end table, and his bratty cat. She loved snow days, French Toast, and his mattress-on-a-box-spring bed. Most of all, she loved the guy he was now, not the one he used to be.
At least, she had.
Quivery shock ran through him, then punched him in the gut with the sudden certainty that he was an idiot. An ass. And he was on the verge of throwing away something very special. Yes, the distance thing was an issue. Potentially an insurmountable one. But they wouldn’t ever know if it was solvable unless they tried.
Dropping his handline, he lurched to his feet. “Thanks, Dad. I’ve . . . I gotta get out of here.”
“Go.” His father waved him off. “And don’t step on the wolf!”
• • •
By the time Nick rolled through the WELCOME TO MUSTANG RIDGE archway a couple of hours later, he still didn’t know what he was going to say to Jenny, but he knew damn well that he wasn’t leaving without seeing her. He got out of the truck and felt a pang at the memory of what had happened here just the day before, and how when he knocked, there wasn’t going to be any skittering claws or a welcoming bark. But while he couldn’t bring Rex back for her, he thought he could make some of the other stuff better. He hoped.
When he knocked, though, and Gran opened the door, her eyebrows rose. “Is something wrong with one of the horses?”
Had he been relegated to just the vet so quickly? He sure hoped this was her way of saying she was on Jenny’s side. “I need to talk to Jenny.”
“Oh, but she already left for the airport!” She glanced over her shoulder at the wall clock. “Her plane takes off in an hour.”
Damn, damn, damn. There was no way he would make it. But he had to try. “What flight?”
Sixty seconds later, armed with the information, he peeled back out onto the main road while his phone rang through to the cabin. When his father picked up, he skipped the preliminaries and said, “Dad, it’s me. I need a huge favor.”
• • •
Jenny’s plane was delayed almost three hours by weather. Normally, that wouldn’t have been a big deal—winter in Wyoming, and all that—but she really wasn’t happy having the extra time to sit and think about everything she was leaving behind.
Not that she regretted the decision—she was dying to get back down south and put her cameras to some serious work, the kind where she didn’t have to think about anything other than the light, the shot, and the action. Her upcoming ten-day trip was seriously going to rock, and being away from Wyoming would be good for her. She would be able to put things into perspective. She hoped.
But the more she sat there, popping Tums and sipping bottled water as the delay edged back yet another half hour and she got close to having to rebook her connection for the second time, she knew—deep down inside, where honesty lived—that this wasn’t like any of the other times she had left home. This time, she wasn’t just heading toward something; she was running away. And this time she was going to desperately miss the people and things she had left behind.
She wasn’t just going to miss Rex and Nick, though those were the two big holes that ate at her gut and had her buying antacids rather than M&Ms at the gift shop opposite her gate. She was also going to miss her parents and grandparents, and she wasn’t going to get to hear all of Krista’s stories from her weeks away. Sure, they would Skype, but it wouldn’t be the same. And she supposed she could keep in touch with Shelby, and maybe even Kitty Cosgrove, but that wouldn’t be the same, either. And, well, yeah, maybe that had been Nick’s point about the futility of trying to keep their relationship going long-distance.
“That doesn’t mean breaking up was the right thing to do.” She said it out loud, even though there wasn’t even a flea poster to talk to. “We could’ve found some kind of a compromise if he had wanted to.”
“Oh, he wants to, all right,” a deep, resonant voice said from directly behind her.
She stiffened, body going hot-cold-hot as footsteps rang on the polished floor and Nick came into view, wearing jeans and a crisp button-down shirt beneath his parka, and his sturdy boots on his feet. It was the luggage that caught her, though, locking her in place.
Over his shoulder was slung the battered knapsack she had seen him wearing in almost all of the Africa photos, and he carried a matching duffel of many-times-washed canvas, wearing faded patches and MASTERSON written in big letters in permanent marker. Like he was going somewhere.
She whispered, “What are you doing here?” She didn’t care that her voice shook, considering that she was shaking all over.
“I’m coming with you,” he said simply, then spread his hands away from his body. “That is, if you’ll have me.” It wasn’t quite a question.
“If I . . .” She stopped and closed her eyes. Don’t freak. Don’t babble. “What about the clinic?” Krista would kill her if she kidnapped the vet.
“My dad is covering.” He grinned, dimples putting in a brief appearance. “Guess your mom wasn’t the only one ready to come out of retirement.” He set down his duffel and knapsack, sat in the chair she had just vacated, and tugged her down beside him. Turning to face her, he took her hands in his. “I was wrong, Jenny, about so many things.”
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. But somewhere inside her, hope kindled. He was there. He wasn’t shutting her out. And he had his Africa bags with him. “You can’t stay away forever.”
“No, I can’t. But I can take a couple of weeks. So, what do you say? Can I tag along on your side trip? I make a mean Sherpa.”
Yes, she wanted to say, a million times yes! She wanted this to be their answer, wanted the hurt to stop. But could she trust the one-eighty? What was to say he wouldn’t do another U-turn a few weeks or months down the road? “I’m going to be gone longer than a couple of weeks.”
“So we’ll Skype. Email. Do whatever it takes. It won’t be perfect, granted, but it’ll be a whole lot better than not having you in my life.” His expression flattened enough to let her know that he wasn’t just ignoring the issues. They were still there, but he had decided he wanted her enough—wanted them enough—to take the risk. To give it a try.
“What changed?”
“I opened my eyes this morning, and you weren’t there. I went up into the mountains and you weren’t there. And when I went to the ranch to talk to you, you weren’t there, either.” He squeezed her hands. “I don’t want to live without knowing you’re somewhere in my life, even if it’s far away.”
“Oh . . .” She breathed the word as the pain drained away.
“Is that oh, good, or oh, bad?”
“It’s good.” The smile seemed to begin deep inside her, then grew to take over her face. “It’s very good.” She bounced a little in her chair. “You’re coming with me! I can’t believe it!”
Relief loosened his body and put a gleam in his eyes. But he lowered his voice to say, “Wait. There’s one more thing I need to say.”
“What’s that?”
“I love you.”
Her heart shuddered in her chest. “You don’t have to say that.”
“Yes, I do. Not because you said it to me, or because I think it’s what you want to hear, but because when a man realizes that he’s been an asshat to the woman he loves, he wants to make up for it as soon as possible.” He stood, spread his arms, and proclaimed, “I love this woman! I’m going to follow her to another country because I love her!”
“Shh!” Laughing, she pulled him back down beside her while a couple of whoops and a smattering of applause came from the harried-looking travelers around them. She bumped him with her shoulder. “You’re nuts, Doc.”
“Nuts about you.” Expression going serious, he drew her in for a kiss that started soft and lingering, then turned deep and dark. When they parted—to more applause that they both ignored—he rested his brow on hers and murmured, “I love you, Jenny Skye.”
She wanted to close her eyes and bask in the marvelous words and the dawning wonder that this was really happening. But she wanted to see it all, too, and store it in her heart, so she looked into his eyes, and said, “I love you, Nick Masterson, at home or abroad. And I can’t wait to see what’s in store for us.”
Straightening, he raised their joined hands, and proclaimed, “Next stop, Belize City!”
“Actually, it’s Denver.”
He kissed her hard and fast, then grinned and said, “I don’t care where we’re going, as long as we’re together.”
28
One year later
The Steak Lodge had been redecorated since the summer, Jenny saw as the hostess led her and Nick—followed by twenty of their nearest and dearest— to a back room, where tables had been pushed together for the party. The new decor was sleeker and more modern in places, with brushed stainless at the bar and fewer boots on the walls, yet maintained the cheerful kitch of the original. They had even added a stuffed grizzly and a couple of pine trees with knotty eyes that followed Jenny as she walked by. She glanced back over her shoulder. “Is this your work, Mom?”
Rose’s lips curved in satisfaction. “I might have made a few suggestions.”
“That’s an understatement,” Krista whispered from the other side of Jenny. “She and Kitty turned this place upside down for nearly a month.”
“Why does this not surprise me?” Jenny said it with a smile, though. Their mother had taken on her new responsibilities at Mustang Ridge with a vengeance that might’ve been daunting if she hadn’t been so darn effective. As promised, the Rambling Rose had rolled south before the snow hit, but Rose and Ed had flown back for the party. And, no doubt, so she could check on a few of her pet projects.
Like the Steak Lodge, Jenny thought. And us. She squeezed Nick’s hand and got a quick glance and a couple of dimples in return, putting a happy flutter in her belly.
The bison head that had goaded them into a kiss during their first date—and again when they had visited the restaurant during her summer break—had been moved into the private room, centered on the back wall, where it emerged from a painted bison’s body. Around it was painted a panoramic view of fields and mountains, and above it hung a banner that read: WELCOME HOME, JENNY . . . FOR GOOD!
And it really was good. Better than good. It was the best.
Nick had been wrong about distance being death to a relationship, but Jenny had definitely found that their relationship had made distance a whole lot less fun. Even with him flying to Belize for a week here and there, and her spending part of the summer back home, she had missed him like crazy when they were apart. More, she had missed Three Ridges. And that had been a wonderful surprise.
“Nice to see our bison is still around,” Nick said, and steered her to a chair directly beneath it, pulling it out and seating her like a gentleman.
That was one of the things she loved about him—that he was a gentleman. But she also loved that he had a naughty streak that made him drag her out of their tent in the middle of the night for skinny dipping, an adventurous side that had wound u
p with the two of them taking skydiving lessons on their last side trip, a softer side that meant he talked to cats as seriously as he did research vets with an alphabet soup of letters after their names. . . . Face it, she flat-out loved him for all his facets, and for the knowledge that there were still more parts of him left to discover.
For example, she had a feeling he had something more planned than just a dinner party tonight. In the couple of days since she flew in and he met her at the airport with both their families in tow, she had walked in on enough instantly interrupted phone calls to know there was something afoot. She was trying not to build up her hopes too far that it was a ring.
That was a kicker, wasn’t it? A year ago, she would’ve howled if someone had suggested she’d be moving home for good, freelancing for Shelby’s ad agency, putting in applications for documentary grants, and hoping for an engagement. But here she was.
Across the table from her, Krista wiggled her eyebrows in a silent Well? Has he said anything?
She gave an almost imperceptible headshake. Not yet.
Nick took the chair next to her while the others sorted themselves out around the table, with the gang from Mustang Ridge—including Shelby and Foster—bumping elbows with Nick’s father and Ruth, who had been an item since about five seconds after Dr. Bill had walked into the clinic. Michelle, Kitty, and their husbands rounded out the party, giving things a lively air.
Dinner was a loud, cheerful family affair, with lots of teasing up and down the table, along with several toasts to Jenny’s return, her and Nick officially moving in together, and life in general. By the time they ordered dessert, she was starting to unwind from her expectations and just go with the flow. She oohed over the arrival of her brownie sundae with extra nuts, and was about to dig in when there was a mechanical whir from overhead, and the bison came to animatronic life.
The fringed eyelashes blinked, the big head shook, and the creature looked down at them. Mouth moving a hint faster than the soundtrack, it said, “Is it time, Nick?”
Winter at Mustang Ridge Page 27