by Jennie Marts
“How’s she doing today?” he asked, his voice solemn and low. “Okay, take it easy. I know it’s tough on her, but she’s a strong girl. Have you talked to the doctor?”
Her ears pricked up as she assessed the exchange and hoped he was asking about their family dog and not about the health of the sweet little girl in the photo.
Wayne asked a few more questions, then wrapped up the conversation, ending it with an “I love you” and a promise to call again that evening.
“Is everything okay?” Charlie asked.
He sighed. “That was my wife. Our little girl, Morgan, was diagnosed with leukemia earlier this year.”
“Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes. She’s only seven. She’s a fighter, though. She’s been going through all the chemotherapy and treatments like a champ, but some days are tougher than others, and she’s in a lot of pain. I guess today is not a good day. It kills me not to be there.”
“Then why aren’t you? Why don’t you tell the railroad to suck it and go be with your wife and daughter?”
He sighed. “I wish I could. But all of our insurance is through this job, and cancer is not a cheap disease. It takes everything you have. We’ve charged up every card and taken out a second mortgage on our house to try to stay on top of it. But the bills just keep coming. She always needs something more, another specialist, a new medicine. But she’s my baby, and I would do anything to save her. So I need this job, not just for the insurance, but I need the commission from the deal on your grandmother’s farm to go through so I can pay all the medical bills and not lose our house.”
She wasn’t sure if he was playing the sympathy card or just being brutally honest. Either way, she felt sorry for his little girl and what their family was going through. “Sorry. That must be hard.”
“Yeah, it is. And it sucks being away from them.”
He and Charlie rode in silence for a few minutes. She thought about how hard it must be on him to be away from his family and wondered just how anxious he was to get back to his wife and child.
Anxious enough to do something drastic? Like push an old lady down some stairs? And what about the hospital bills and the threat of losing his house? Money problems and anxiety caused a lot of stress, but enough to commit murder?
“So, how did you hear about my grandmother’s death? Did someone call you or were you there when it happened?” Really smooth. Lead right into the question. She could probably be a detective.
“Your grandmother’s death? Where did that come from?” His face paled. “Are you asking me if I had anything to do with your grandmother’s fall? No. I wasn’t even there.”
“But had you been there? When was the last time you saw her?”
His face went from pale to a sickly green. “Well…I’d been out there that morning. But she was fine when I left her. When I drove off, she was standing on the porch cussing at me.”
“I bet that made you mad. Mad enough to sneak back onto the farm later.”
Wayne turned his head to look at her, then faced the road again. “Charlie, stop it. I didn’t do anything to hurt your grandmother. I was at the diner, eating a greasy cheeseburger when I heard the news.”
“How do you remember exactly what you were eating? And who told you?”
He sighed. “Because I always order cheeseburgers at the diner, and they are always greasy. And nobody told me. One of those fat old ladies, the ones that are always sitting on the park bench, came into the diner and announced that Gigi Tucker had fallen down the stairs and broken her neck.”
She gasped.
“Sorry. That was insensitive.”
They turned into the driveway of Tucked Away, and any worries she’d had about Wayne’s sensitivity fled with the sight of Zack’s vet truck parked in front of the barn.
Chapter Fourteen
Zack fumbled the tools in his hands, his clumsiness one more reminder of how he was losing his concentration and letting his mind wander to Charlie. He wouldn’t even be here if Buckshot hadn’t called him out to take a look at Gigi’s mare.
He was just finishing up, rinsing his tools in a bucket and putting them back in his bag. He thought back to another day, standing in this very spot, when he’d taught Charlie how to feed that silly calf. He should have known then. Taken a step back and not let himself get involved with her.
How could he have let himself be taken in by another woman? He knew from the start she would let him down, and yet he still let her in, gave her a space in his life. In his heart. How could he have been so stupid?
A bolt of anger shot through him and he flung the bucket against the wall, spilling the soapy water and narrowly missing Cash’s head as the ranch hand stepped into the tack room.
“Whoa there,” Cash said, leaning down to pick up the pail. “What did this bucket ever do to you?”
“The bucket didn’t do anything to me. But the guy who was supposed to be my friend did.”
Cash set the bucket down and held up his hands in surrender. “You’re right. And I’ve apologized. It was a bad decision on my part.”
“You’re damn straight it was a bad decision. How could you do that to me?”
Cash pulled off his cowboy hat and dragged his hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I was drunk. It was stupid. I was an idiot.” He sighed. “But I really am sorry. And I know that Charlie is, too. She hates herself, and you know that’s not who she is.”
“Do I?” Zack kicked at a piece of hay in the dirt. “Do I really? Because I thought I knew who she was, but I was wrong. Actually, I was right. I was right to begin with, that women are only out for themselves and no matter what you do, it’s never enough. They can’t be trusted. And now I’m sure she’s gonna take off back to the city, just like I knew she would from the day I met her.”
…
Charlie heard the yelling before she saw the men. Her heart thumping in her chest, she moved into the dim recesses of the barn, trying not to eavesdrop, but desperate to hear what Zack was yelling about.
“You knew I cared about her. Why couldn’t you keep your damn hands to yourself?” Zack’s voice rose above the hum of the barn, and Charlie realized that this was the first time she’d heard him swear in anger. Actually, it was the first time she had ever heard him get angry at all.
She crept closer. Her plaster cast bumped a table set against the barn wall, its top covered in an assortment of horse paraphernalia. Brushes, bridles, and a box of sugar cubes rattled with the movement. A coffee can half filled with oats teetered and fell from the edge of the table, clanging on the floor and spilling grain across the hay-strewn ground.
She crouched to try to grab the can before it rolled into a stall. Grabbing the rim of the can, she turned back to find herself staring at two familiar square-toed cowboy boots.
“What are you doing here, Charlie?” Zack’s voice carried a harsh undertone of anger, sending a pang of despair through her heart.
She reached for the table to pull herself up, but counterbalanced with the heavy cast. She tipped to the side, but felt Zack’s strong arms around her before she hit the floor. He pulled her to her feet, steadying her before dropping his hands.
Again, she wished this all would disappear, and she could just let herself melt into him again. Looking up into his angry brown eyes, she was pretty sure her time spent in his arms had rapidly come to a close.
She brushed at her clothes, knocking loose bits of gravel to the floor. She picked at a stray piece of straw that had caught in the gauze of her cast and let it fall to the floor. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“I was just over at your house. I brought you some cookies.” She smoothed her hair down, sure the sweat and humidity had done wonders for her style.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
He looked at the spilled feed on the ground and crushed an errant grain with his boot. “Look, Charlie, I don’t know what you want me to say here.”
> “That makes two of us.” She tried to laugh, but his expression stayed stony. She tried another tact. “Zack, I’m really sorry. You have every right to be angry with me, even though nothing actually happened with Cash. But I’m angry with you, too.”
He blinked in surprise. “How could you be angry with me? I didn’t do anything. All I did was take my daughter and my girl to a dance, and all hell broke loose.”
Her heart melted at the endearing way he’d called her “my girl”. “Well, part of that hell was your ex-wife cornering me in the bathroom and informing me that she was taking her family back.”
“How was I supposed to know that? I hadn’t seen the woman in thirteen years.”
“You sure didn’t look disappointed to see her. I saw the way you brought your arms up to hug her. Must have been quite a tearful reunion.”
“What? I sure as heck wasn’t hugging her. That lady broke my heart. I put my arms around her to peel her off of me. You’d have seen that if you would stayed there, instead of running off all half-cocked.”
“I ran off because I assumed you were happy to see her. And why would you want me around when she was there?”
“That there’s part of the problem. You assumed. You didn’t talk to me or ask me or even yell at me. You just ran off, assuming the worst of me. Did you ever think maybe I could have used you standing by me for support against the shock of my ex-wife showing up out of the blue?”
Charlie hung her head in shame. That thought had never even crossed her mind. She shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “No one has ever needed me before. Other men have always—”
“That’s the other part of the problem. I am NOT other men. You can’t keep comparing me to some ass-wipe in New York who didn’t know a good thing when he had it. And you can’t compare me to your dad who was always running off, chasing some dream. I am not those men. In fact, I’m the guy who understands how it feels to be left behind.”
“I know. I should have believed in you. I just panicked. And I didn’t want to be that victim again. I didn’t want to be the one who got left again.”
“So, you decided to hurt me before I could hurt you? Is that it?”
“No, of course not.”
“Well I hope he was worth it.”
“Nothing is worth this. Zack, nothing happened. For just a fleeting second Cash may have considered kissing me, but I stopped him. Besides, I don’t even care about him. I mean, I care about him. But not the way I care about you.”
“That’s comforting to know.”
“Ugh. Everything is coming out wrong.”
She looked into his eyes, trying to convey the depth of remorse she felt. “I’m just so sorry. About everything. About what almost happened with Cash. And for hurting you. I never wanted that to happen.”
“Charlie, you are the first woman I’ve given my heart to in years. I trusted you. With my heart. And with my daughter.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” He stopped to take a breath, emotion choking his words. “Shari leaving me just about did me in. She hurt me so bad, I didn’t think I could ever trust another woman. And then, after all these years, you come out of nowhere, with your big city notions and your stupid pink cowboy boots. And I couldn’t help myself. I just fell.”
She longed to reach out and touch him. His chest, his hand, his face. “I fell, too.”
Zack shook his head then slammed his hand down on the table, making both the brushes and her jump. “You still don’t get it, Charlie. I trusted you. And I probably could have taken it if you had just let me down. But I trusted you with Sophie. With my little girl. And you hurt her. You hurt her emotionally, and you could have hurt her physically. I can’t bear to even think what would have happened if you would’ve hit her with that truck.”
The force of his words struck her head-on, stealing her breath, and she choked back a sob. Not knowing what else to say, she repeated her apologetic mantra. “I’m so sorry. I love Sophie. I would never purposely harm her. I feel terrible about the accident. I never would’ve forgiven myself if she’d been hurt.”
Zack swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving up and down his throat, and she ached at the memory of her lips on that exact spot on his neck. “I just don’t think I can do this. You broke my heart, and my daughter is a mess. She’s hurting from what happened with you and trying to figure out what to do with Shari back in her life. And having my ex-wife here is just reminding me of all the reasons I’m better off not being in a relationship. This just isn’t worth it. I need to focus on my daughter, and that’s all I can do right now. I need to break this thing off before anyone else gets hurt.”
She reached for him. “No. Zack, please don’t say that. I told you I’m sorry.”
“I know you are, Charlie.” He took her outstretched hands in his, holding them a moment. He closed his eyes and then released her hands. “So am I.”
He turned then and walked from the barn, his shoulders slumped, the very picture of a broken man.
Charlie leaned into the wall, sliding to the floor as she let loose a sob of despair and heart-wrenching pain. She heard the engine spark to life, then the spray of gravel as he put the truck in gear and drove out of the driveway. She wrapped her arms around her knees and cried, weeping over the train-wreck that her life had become. She cried for the man who offered her a chance at happiness and whose heart she had just broken. And she wept for the teenage girl, whose only offense had been the friendship that she offered.
She let herself cry until she had nothing left. A sad remnant of an unanswered prayer, an unspoken wish, and a lost chance at happiness.
…
“Lordy, what happened to you?” Ryan Tucker looked up from the kitchen table as Charlie walked in the front door. The table was covered with papers, and the chairs on either side of him were occupied by her mother and Wayne Roberts, the railroad man.
She ran a hand through her hair, dried bits of hay flaking like dandruff to land on her shoulders. Shaking her head, she tried to comprehend what was happening in front of her. Tried to make sense of the stapled folds of paper spread across the table that looked suspiciously like contracts. “Never mind me. What’s happening here?”
The chair scraped the floor as Elizabeth pushed back and walked to Charlie, her arm upraised, already in position to pet and soothe her daughter. “Now, honey—”
She pushed her mother’s hands away. “Don’t honey me. I’m not a child. Somebody needs to tell me what is going on here, or I swear I will literally lose my mind.”
“Simmer down now.” Ryan held up his hands in defense at the scathing look his daughter shot his way. “Okay, sorry. Take that back. Why don’t you let your mother get you a glass of water, and you can sit down here with us?”
Liz obediently moved into the kitchen, opening cabinets and filling a glass of water.
Charlie looked with disdain at the cup her mother held out to her, but after considering that she’d most likely just cried out all of the hydration in her body, she grudgingly took the glass.
The water felt insanely good on her parched throat and helped to clear her mind as she shifted from broken-hearted girlfriend to protective farm-owning granddaughter.
She stepped to the table, glancing down at the papers, then turned her attention to Wayne. “Do you want to tell me what you’re doing?”
“My job.” Wayne began to collect the papers, stacking them into one pile. “I already told you, Charlie, this isn’t personal. We are not doing this to you. In fact, it is actually for you.”
“What, exactly, are you doing for me?”
“Listen, Charlie.” He pushed his glasses a notch further up his nose. “The sale of this property will set you up for life. You’ll never have to work again. You and your parents can buy a new farm or a condo in the city. You won’t have to worry about money. You can take a vacation if you want. Doesn’t that sound better than spending your time on this dusty old rundown farm
in the middle of Nowhere, Montana?”
How had her life so quickly spun out of her control? Her head throbbed from her crying jag, and she would kill for a couple of ibuprofens to tackle the ache in her healing ribs. “I happen to love this dusty old rundown farm.”
Her mother scoffed, making a noise in her throat that sounded similar to a cat huffing up a hairball. “How can you love this place? You’ve only lived here a few months. You’re letting the charm of the summer and country life cloud your judgment. Wait until you try to endure a Montana winter, day after day of freezing cold and getting up before the crack of dawn to care for some stupid animals. Your whole existence dependent on the Farmer’s Almanac and the latest weather report. Take your emotions out of the mixture, Charlie, and try to look at this rationally.”
She paused, considering her mother’s words. Maybe for the first time, seeing her mother in a new light. Seeing her as the young mom, desperate to escape a life she saw as dull and tedious and draining.
She thought about the night she watched the miracle of a calf’s birth, the swish of tall hay as it brushed her legs walking through the pasture, the feeling of pure joy she experienced from the saddle of a horse as she surveyed the property that her grandmother had left to her.
What her mother saw as tedium, she saw as adventure. What Liz saw as labor and drudgery, she saw as fun and exciting. This farm and this land had made its mark on her. Had gotten into her very soul.
Her mother told her to take her emotions out of the mix, but her emotions were all she had. This farm, this legacy of her grandmother’s, was part of her heart. A heart that moments ago was bruised and battered, but now sputtered to life and picked up its beat, steady and strong.
This was where her heart lay now. In this farm, in this land, and she wasn’t going to give it up. This was all she had left.
She turned to her mother. “I am as rational as I have ever been, Mother. And I want to stay. I’m not selling.”
Her newly resuscitated heart stopped at the quiet words that Wayne spoke from his place at the table. “I’m sorry, Charlie. It doesn’t matter what you want anymore. It’s done. Your dad just agreed to sign over the deed.”