by Sherry Lewis
She seemed to relax again. “Cameron thinks I didn’t try hard enough to make the marriage work,” she admitted. “But he’s conveniently forgotten how miserable we all were, how often Gil and I argued, and how much the fighting upset him.”
“That’s easy to do. People have a tendency to remember what they want to remember and forget the rest.”
“I guess it’s human nature. But I seem to be the only one who remembers how bad things were, and even I wonder sometimes if I made a mistake.” She sighed and studied her mug for a moment. “Gil wants to patch things up between us.”
Her candor surprised Rick. “Really?”
“Unfortunately.”
“It isn’t what you want?” He regretted the question immediately. It was none of his business.
To his surprise, Marti didn’t seem to mind. “No, it isn’t. I might be confused about a lot of things, but I do know that much. But I do want Cameron to be happy again, and he needs his dad. And Gil does seem different.”
“Cameron may need his dad,” Rick agreed, “but it doesn’t mean you have to marry him again...does it?”
“I suppose not,” she said slowly, “but I wonder whether Cameron will ever be happy again unless his family is back together.”
Rick sprinkled ham and cheese onto his omelette. “If you were as unhappy as you say, even that won’t make him happy. Nobody can make another person happy. Believe me, I know.”
She took another sip of coffee and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. “It would make Dad happy, too. He worries about me being alone, and he had such big dreams of leaving us the ranch, he’s never quite gotten over his disappointment.”
Rick transferred his omelette from the pan to a plate, carried it to the table and sat across from her. “What does the divorce have to do with the ranch?”
“I’ve wanted to run the Lazy M since I was a little girl,” she said softly. “But Dad won’t leave it to me because I’m a woman. God forbid a girl should run a ranch.”
Rick couldn’t believe he’d heard right. Henry Mad-dock sounded positively medieval. “So, if you want the ranch, you have to marry Gil again?”
Marti worked up a grim smile. “I don’t know if he’d insist on that, but I do know he won’t turn it over to me as long as I’m alone. He’s old-fashioned—just like so many men of his generation. He thinks the ranch would be too much for me to handle on my own.”
“But if it’s what you love—”
“It is. But it’s not going to happen. I suppose I should just accept it, but it’s not easy.” She picked up her mug and let her gaze travel toward the window. “You have a great view. I always thought there should be a house here.”
Rick could tell from the set of her shoulders and the look in her eye that she wanted to change the subject.
He leaned forward to look out the window with her. “Yeah. It’s a great place.”
“Your wife must have loved it here.”
Everything inside froze. He could feel his expression shift. He didn’t want to discuss Jocelyn and their life in Gunnison, but he didn’t feel right about shutting Marti out when she’d just been so honest with him. “Not exactly,” he admitted. Before he could decide what else to say, he caught a glimpse of Cameron’s jacket through the trees as he crossed the bridge. He nodded toward the window. “Here comes Cameron.”
Not surprisingly, Marti lowered her mug to the table and stood. “I’d better go.”
After two days in Cameron’s company, Rick suspected the kid might actually welcome his mother’s interest. Just as Rick would have welcomed interest from his father—if the old man had ever shown any. “Why don’t you stay?” he suggested.
“Because I don’t want him to find me here.”
“Why not?”
“Because this is the one good thing Cameron’s done in three years, and seeing me here will only ruin it for him.” Her voice came out sharp. Brittle.
Rick trailed her back into the living room and stood by while she put on her coat and tugged open the front door. For Cameron’s sake, he wished she’d change her mind and stay. But it wasn’t his place to tell her that. After all, he barely knew her.
“Thanks for the coffee,” she said, stepping onto the porch. “I’ll see you around.”
After checking to make sure Cameron hadn’t rounded the bend yet, she ran down the steps and hurried toward the far corner of the cabin. Rick watched until she turned the corner, then stepped back inside and closed the door. Which disappointed him more? he wondered. Her sudden departure or her unwillingness to talk to her son? He couldn’t say.
MARTI STIRRED her homemade spaghetti sauce one last time before pulling the pan from the burner. Behind her at the table, her father and Cameron were deep in conversation. She loved listening to Cameron when he sounded like this—animated, happy, and more like himself than he’d been in a long time. But she didn’t let herself relax. She didn’t want to do or say anything to ruin his mood.
She poured the sauce into a bowl and carried it to the table. Her father looked up as she approached and passed one knobby hand over his thinning hair. “Sounds like Cameron’s got tomorrow planned. What will you be doing?”
“I don’t have any set plans,” she admitted. “I’d like to call Cherryl. I still haven’t been able to reach her.”
“I’m not surprised. She’s working at the Wagon Wheel now, you know. Even Greta doesn’t see much of her daughter these days,” Henry said.
“The last letter I got from her said she and Jess have been busy since they took over the place. Have you been in there lately?”
Her father shook his head. “I haven’t been out much since winter hit.”
Marti pushed aside a pang of anxiety. She couldn’t remember her father avoiding driving before, even in bad weather. But she tried not to act overly concerned. Henry had never taken pampering well. “I’ll probably look for Mom’s Christmas things and decorate the house.”
His expression softened as it always did when someone mentioned her mother. “That would be nice. If you have a minute, maybe you should call your aunt Martha, too.”
“Yes, of course, I will.”
He nodded approval and patted the chair beside him. “Sit down here. I’ve got some news I want to share with both of you.”
Cameron stopped shoveling salad onto his plate. Curiosity brightened his eyes, but when Marti smiled at him they clouded again.
She hated knowing that a simple smile from her could ruin his mood so thoroughly. But she sat beside her father and made an effort to keep her voice light. “What news?”
“I heard today that Dennehy’s fixing to sell out. What would you think if I bought that land back from him?”
His question caught her by surprise. “Can you afford to do that?” she asked, passing him the bowl of sauce.
“You don’t need to worry about that, girl. I’ve been thinking that it’s time for me to start doing something with this place. I’ve let it sit for too long.”
Cameron pursed his mouth so that he looked exactly like Gil when something surprised him. “What would you do?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Henry ladled sauce onto his pasta and shrugged at the same time. “It’ll depend on what kind of help I can get. I’m too old to do much by myself.”
Marti didn’t know how he planned to hire help and buy Rick’s property on his limited budget, but she didn’t ask. “Are you thinking of anything in particular?”
Henry shrugged again. “I’ve got a plan...if I can find someone to take over the reins for me when the time comes.”
His choice of words made Marti’s internal warning bells sound. He’d used that phrase often in the past when talking about Gil, and she had a sinking feeling that’s who he had in mind now.
Cameron tore a piece of garlic bread from the loaf and leaned forward in his seat. “I can help you, Grandpa.”
“You could,” her father said, “but you’ll be going back to California soon. I need som
eone permanent.”
With growing uneasiness, Marti took the bowl from him. She knew exactly how Cameron would respond. She could feel it in the air and see it in Cameron’s eyes.
“Well, that’s the thing, Grandpa. I’m not going back to California, so I will be here all the time.”
Marti forced herself not to overreact. She’d been expecting Cameron to try something like this—just not so soon. And she hadn’t expected her father to open the door for him.
Looking disappointed, Henry patted Cameron’s hand. “I don’t want you to go back, either, son. But that’s up to your mother.”
“You both know I love it here as much as you do, but we can’t stay,” Marti said. “We have to go back after Christmas.”
Cameron’s eyes snapped, his jaw tightened and his face reddened. “Why?”
“Because that’s where we live.”
“You don’t have to live there,” her father reminded her.
Marti clenched her fists and lowered them to her lap so neither of them could see how much effort it required to hold herself together. “I’d like to stay—”
“Don’t lie,” Cameron snarled. “You don’t want to stay, but I do. I’m not going back.”
She was silent for a few seconds, trying to steady herself. It didn’t help. Her entire relationship with Cameron hinged on this one issue, and she could see him drawing further away with every word she spoke. “Cameron, please try to understand—”
“I understand, all right.” He shoved his plate away. “You won’t be content until you’ve totally screwed up my life.”
“I don’t want to screw up your life—”
“No? Well, you’re sure as hell doing a great job of it.”
The accusation made her lose the slim hold she’d kept on her temper so far. “If you want to see who’s screwing up your, life,” she said, “take a look at the things you’re doing.”
Her father tugged Cameron back into his seat and frowned at her. “Enough of that. There’s no need for this kind of talk.” He patted her arm soothingly, but each time his hand touched her, she grew more irritated.
She jerked away.
Henry’s frown deepened. “Just calm down, sweetheart. There’s no need to get all riled up.”
“I’m not riled up,” she snapped, but even she could hear the lie in her words. She pushed a lock of hair from her face with an unsteady hand and tried to calm herself.
Her father sighed heavily. “I know the idea of staying in Gunnison upsets you, but maybe Gil’s right. Maybe you should give some thought to patching things up between you.”
Marti struggled to keep her voice level and her words rational. She knew better than to get angry. She’d just be reinforcing her father’s opinion of women and their emotional behavior. “Gil and I don’t belong together—”
Cameron blew out a burst of air and leaned back in his seat. “Well, I belong with him.”
“Of course, he’ll always be your father—”
“Not if you have anything to say about it.” Cameron pushed to his feet again. This time, he knocked over his chair as he stood. “I’m not leaving here again, Mom, so get used to it. If you want to go back to California, you can go by yourself.”
Without waiting for her response, he rushed from the room. Marti held her breath, praying he wouldn’t go outside in the cold.
To her immense relief, she heard his footsteps thundering up the stairs. She let out her breath slowly and met her father’s gaze. “Thanks a lot, Dad.”
“What did I do?”
She shook her head and waved away the question. It might be easy to blame him for suggesting that she reconcile with Gil, but her problems with Cameron weren’t his fault. “I don’t want Cameron getting ideas about staying here. I don’t want him to think I’ll get back with Gil again.”
“But Gil’s good for you, girl. He takes care of you. I’m not going to be around forever, and you’re the only one of my children who’s not settled.”
“I am settled,” she insisted. “I’m doing very well on my own.”
Her father sent her a pitying glance and jerked his head toward the door, which was still swinging from Cameron’s exit. “You call that doing well?”
Not by any stretch of her imagination, but she wouldn’t admit it aloud. “I’ll work things out with Cameron. That’s why I’m here.”
“He needs a steadying influence,” Henry said. “He needs his father.”
“You don’t honestly believe Gil’s a steadying influence?” Marti might have laughed if the idea hadn’t been so unbelievable. “He spent most of our marriage drunk.”
“I know he likes to have a beer now and then—”
“Now and then? He spent more time at the Lucky Jack than he did at home.” Marti’s voice rose with every word, but she couldn’t seem to control it. “He was never there when I needed him. He was too busy chasing around with other women.”
“Maybe he flirted on occasion,” Henry said carefully, “but what man doesn’t?”
“What man doesn’t?” She turned away. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“Don’t get upset with me,” her father protested. “I’m just saying there’s no proof Gil actually did anything wrong.”
She laughed bitterly and stood. “Why do you always stick up for him? Gil did a whole lot more than flirt with other women.”
“You don’t know that, Marti. You heard a few rumors.”
“Rumors that had their basis in fact.”
“Even if he slipped up once—”
“Don’t defend him, Dad. You’re saying every man fools around on his wife. So does that mean you did, too?” Surely he’d realize how ridiculous his argument sounded if she put it that way.
“Did I what?”
“Did you chase around with other women when you were married to Mom?”
Her father leaned back in his seat, but she could tell by the way his lips thinned she’d asked him something he didn’t want to answer.
Her pulse slowed ominously. “Did you?”
He met her gaze, again slowly. “Your mother and I had our problems,” he said. “But she didn’t go running off somewhere on her own and drag you kids with her. She stayed here. She forgave me. And she made the best life she could for her children.”
Bile rose in her throat. Her stomach clenched painfully. “You cheated on Mom?”
Now he refused to meet her gaze. “We had our problems.”
Her hands trembled and her throat tightened painfully. She clutched the table to keep herself upright. She couldn’t believe it. No... She didn’t want to believe it. She’d always thought her parents had a wonderful marriage, and she’d wondered what she’d done to fall short of their example. Now, it seemed, she’d lived up to it better than she’d ever imagined.
Bitterness and anger welled up inside her. “Do the others know?”
“There’s nothing to know.”
“You just said—”
“What happened between your mother and me was our business. We worked out our differences and made a home for you kids. And you all turned out just fine. Jed and Neal are doing well. Carol’s happily married. So, you tell me whether we did the right thing. And tell me honestly whether you’d have turned out the way you did if your mother had gotten her feelings hurt and run off on me.”
Gotten her feelings hurt? Marti stared at her father for a long moment, unable to make a sound. The clock on the stove marked time as the seconds passed. Her thoughts raced, but she didn’t trust herself to speak or move.
She searched her memory, trying desperately to remember if her mother had ever betrayed heartache. But if she had, Marti hadn’t seen it.
“Your mother and I owed it to you kids to stay together,” he said. “And you owe Cameron the same thing. You owe him a family. You owe him stability.” Her father leaned toward her again and touched her hand. His skin felt paper-dry. Thin. Old. She didn’t feel the usual warmth in his touch. In fact, she felt not
hing but revulsion.
She snatched her hand away and shook her head. He was wrong. Wrong. Marriage to Gil would give Cameron nothing but misery. But she still couldn’t speak.
Her father softened his voice and tried to make her look at him again. “Why do you think Cameron’s having such problems out there in California?”
“That’s not fair.” The words squeaked out of her tight throat. She sounded weak. Childish. Uncertain.
“Gil loves you, girl. Just like I loved your mother.” He scooted his chair closer and touched her arm again. “So his head turned once or twice. You don’t know he actually cheated on you. You’ve judged him and found him guilty without proof.”
Her stomach knotted. “He was never there when I needed him, Dad. You know that. You remember—”
“Maybe he was there the best he could be. Gil’s a good man. He tries hard.” He gestured toward the upper floor and looked deep into her eyes. “And he’s a good father to that boy up there. You can’t deny that.”
“He’s no father to Cameron. He hasn’t seen him in three years.”
“That’s not all his fault, and you know it. You took the boy clear across the country so he couldn’t see him.”
Marti looked away, but he used his free hand to tilt her face back toward his.
“I’d better warn you about something else, girl. Gil’s going to be helping me out on the weekends, so you’ll be seeing a lot more of him.”
She jerked her chin away from his touch. “Why?”
“Because I’m too damn old to do it all myself. I need the help.”
“I’ll help you. Cameron will help. You know how much I love this place.”
Not surprisingly, her father shook his head. “You’re not here all the time. Besides, this place is too much for a lady. I need a man. Someone I can rely on.”
“And you think you can rely on Gil?”
Her father fixed her with a stern gaze. “I know I can. Gil’s changed. He’s steady now. He knows what he did wrong, and he wants a chance to make it up to you. Your trouble is, you won’t let go of the past. Somebody makes a mistake, you worry on it forever, like a dog with a bone.”