Kam watched Wes with avid interest. In no time, he had Freckles’s rear leg up and the hoof resting on his left thigh just above his knee. “You make this look easy,” she said with a smile.
Wes allowed Freckles to stand on all four feet. He backed off and let Kam replace him. “It’s easy once you get the motion and contact with the horse. Go ahead, give it a try.”
To his surprise, Kam managed it perfectly. She was a fast learner, there was no doubt. Soon, she had both rear hooves cleaned and started to hand the hoof pick to him. He held up his hand in protest.
“No, you keep it. A cowboy always has a hoof pick on his person. When you ride out there, a horse can pick up a stone that will make him lame. You’ll have a pick in your saddlebags, dismount and lift each hoof until you locate the stone and dig it out. Then, you and your horse can continue a nice trail ride together.”
Her hand tingled once more as his grazed it. Hungrily, Kam absorbed his touch. The doors to her heart flew open as she drowned in his dark gray eyes. He seemed like a man of absolute integrity, someone who could be perfect for her. She wondered how a woman wouldn’t have snapped him up already. Then again, what did she know? Wes could have a wife or a girlfriend. Sometimes men didn’t wear wedding rings but were still married. How she fought the direction of her thoughts. Above all, she was here to see if Rudd Mason was her father. Again, she scolded herself for getting so distracted. No way could she get entangled in a relationship with Wes. No way…
After teaching her how to saddle and bridle Freckles, Wes took her on a tour around the main ranch area. He rode his big, rangy gray gelding, Bolt. Compared to the shorter Freckles, Bolt was a giant with a much longer stride. The mustang, however, kept up a brisk walk to remain abreast of the other horse.
Sun poured like liquid gold around Kam as Wes took her over to the small rental cabins. They were neat and clean, each one having red, pink or white geraniums planted in boxes along the front windows. The yards were grassy and neatly cut.
“We have ten families a week reserve these cabins during our dude-ranch session. The season starts June first and we go through the end of September,” Wes informed her as they rode toward a large corral nearby. “Iris and Trevor created a lot of different programs for the families. Some are environmental, some are day rides and others are hikes in the hills north of here. The kids aren’t forced to ride if they don’t want to.” He grinned and resettled the hat on his head. “We don’t allow video games or computers at the ranch. When they come here, it’s about reconnecting with the earth and nature, not the wired world.”
“How do some of the kids react to that?”
“Well, the city kids feel naked and deprived at first,” Wes said, meeting her smile. “But after a while, other activities help them forget the loss.”
“I imagine kids from the country are less shocked over this situation?”
“Oh yes,” Wes murmured. He tried not to look at her but it was impossible. And every time he did, he felt a tug in his heart. “Of course, Zach Mason, who is seventeen, is a video-game freak.”
“I haven’t met him or Regan yet,” Kam said, riding close as they approached the wide arena filled with sand. “Iris said Allison’s children don’t take an interest in the ranch. I think she’s very sad about that.”
“Yeah,” Wes said grimly as they halted at the pipe corral, “Iris had hoped that Allison’s children would want to walk in Rudd’s footsteps. She was hoping to see the ranch passed on down through the family line.” Wes shook his head. “Rudd loves this ranch and he’ll see it prosper and flourish. Iris has left him a long-term plan for the ranch after she dies and he’ll follow it.”
“But if Rudd dies?”
Shrugging, Wes hooked his right leg around the saddle horn and dropped the reins on Bolt’s neck. “I don’t know what will happen. The way Rudd’s will reads, if he dies, Allison takes over. And after she dies, the ranch goes to their two children.”
“Ouch.”
“Yes,” he sighed. “It isn’t a positive outcome and I think Iris is really stressed out about it. She’s tried to get Zach interested, but he has other things on his mind. He’s not very social and stays in his room most of the time.”
“That’s not good, either,” Kam agreed. “Yesterday, neither Regan or Zach showed up at the dinner table.”
Wes nodded. “I’ve heard Iris grouch about it often enough to know that those kids don’t show up much.”
“In my family, the dinner table was a special place to reconnect and find out what everyone was doing.”
“You’re lucky to have had that kind of upbringing,” Wes said. “Not many families nowadays even have dinner together.”
“What about your family, Wes?” Kam couldn’t stop her curiosity. Oh, she knew Wes’s official duty was to show her around. Whether he wanted that duty or not, she didn’t know. Because she was drawn to him, Kam took advantage of the situation and probed into his personal life.
Wes unhooked his leg from around the saddle horn and placed his toe back into the stirrup. His conscience ate at him over her question. He wasn’t proud of his family and talking about it hurt. Funnily enough, Wes found himself wanting to share the details with Kam. The caring look on her face, the way her lips were parted, told him that she was sincere in asking him the personal question.
“Let’s just say that my father is an alcoholic, Kam. I grew up in a pretty dark and unhappy environment. I have two younger siblings, a brother and sister. We each left the ranch at eighteen to get away from my father. My mother, Anne, is a teacher over in Cody, Wyoming, and I don’t know why she stays with him. I just can’t understand it.”
Kam’s heart twisted. She noticed the sadness in his gray eyes and heard it in his low tone. Suddenly vulnerable, Wes was no longer the confident cowboy. Instead, he turned into the haunted little boy who was confused by his alcoholic father’s actions toward him.
Not thinking, Kam reached out and laid her hand on his forearm. Instantly, the lean muscles beneath the denim shirt tensed. “I’m so sorry, Wes. Alcoholism is a terrible disease. I’ve seen it destroy families if the person doesn’t get help.”
“Well,” Wes muttered, feeling the warmth of her touch on his arm, “my father doesn’t think he has a problem.”
How much Kam wanted to slide her arms around him. His shoulders had slumped as he’d shared his dark secret. “Many alcoholics won’t admit they have a problem. I’m sorry it’s destroyed your family in so many ways.” In that moment, Kam realized, once more, how lucky she had been to have been adopted by Laura and Morgan. She’d had one of the best childhoods compared to most of her friends. Out of tragedy, she had bloomed fully in a family who loved her, not like Wes.
Unable to tear his gaze from hers, Wes thought he saw tears in Kam’s eyes. And then, they were gone before he could confirm it. Whatever was happening between them was magical and was pulling him toward her at a fast rate of speed. The horror of his ex-wife’s alcoholism resurfaced in his thoughts. When he’d first met Carla, she’d been similar to Kam, all warmth and giving. Only a year later the monstrous symptoms became exposed. His trust in women had been permanently broken. Was he being tested again with Kam? He’d learned his lesson and he was damned if he was going to make the same mistake twice. Who knew what demons and secrets Kam Trayhern had?
“Well, nothing in life is always cherries, as Iris says,” Wes said. Breaking the warm connection that strung palpably between them, Wes raised his hand toward the arena in front of them. “This is where we teach families how to take care of a horse, pick its feet, brush it, saddle and bridle it. Iris and Trevor felt that by working around the horses, families would get the message of responsibility. They take care of the horse assigned to them. They go to the box stall, lead their horse out here to the arena and do their morning care with their mount.”
The moment was gone. Kam silently lamented the lost intimacy. She enjoyed talking with Wes. He seemed so solid and reliable despite his terribl
e childhood. Biting back more questions, Kam knew she’d have to wait until another time to discuss anything personal with Wes. She shouldn’t want to. But she did. Iris was like a port in the storm of Rudd’s family. Wes offered her the same comfort.
Kam was beginning to understand that the fairytale world of Elkhorn Ranch wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. She was such an idealist, and that frequently got her into situations where she was disappointed. Somehow, Kam was going to have to weather the storms within the family by hanging in until she could inform Rudd why she was really here. And somehow, she would have to sort out these new feelings for Wes.
CHAPTER SIX
ALLISON TRIED to calm her nerves. She stood in front of the well-lit bathroom mirror in her suite. Rudd had already gotten up and left. He always got up at dawn and that was fine with her. Eight o’clock was her official waking time and never a minute before. How she hated ranch life, but what was she to do?
Taking her eyeliner, she carefully outlined her large green eyes. Again, her nerves jangled. It had been two weeks since the arrival of the new caregiver, Kam Trayhern, and Allison was unhappy with her. What she didn’t like was the fact that the old lady, Iris, was smitten with the young woman. Why should she be? Finishing off her left eye, Allison devoted all her attention to lining her right eye. In the past, Allison had been able to drive off each caregiver within a month.
Lips compressing, Allison finished and reached for her mascara. In her late forties, she had long, beautiful lashes. The face-lift and wonderful Botox had made her look as if she were in her late thirties. In order to be on the Hollywood market, she had to maintain youth. Today, she would fly from Jackson Hole to Cheyenne and then to Los Angeles. There was an audition for a bit part in a television series that her agent had managed to land. She would read the script and pray to God that she’d get the part. It had been so long since she’d worked and she was desperate for a part. She didn’t care how she got it.
All her life, Allison had dreamed of being a star. She’d left school at sixteen, escaping poverty on Chicago’s east side. She’d left her mother, Clarice, behind and taken a new name. Allison never looked back and threw herself on the mercy of Hollywood in order to fulfill her dream. Now, decades later, she was still fighting.
Frowning, she put her mascara away.
Time to get dressed. The flight was at noon, and she was right on schedule. Allison walked over to her walk-in closet. One thing she was thankful for: she knew the producer of the show. Having navigated Hollywood for so long, she was acquainted with the players. Moving down the long row of dresses, Allison chose a tasteful Riller & Fount plum sheath and a metallic Ferragamo belt was the perfect accessory. She already had on a pair of strappy turquoise Manolo Blahniks. Perfect. She’d look like a queen. The dress showed off her svelte five-foot-nine-inch figure. Long ago, she’d had her breasts enlarged. No Hollywood actress would ever get a second look without huge breasts and an eighteen-inch waist.
“Mom?”
Turning, Allison eyed her daughter, Regan, at the door. “Come on in, sweetie.”
Regan wore jeans and an orange T-shirt, her red hair back in a ponytail and her blue eyes heavily made-up. “Hey, Mom, when are you leaving for that casting call?”
“In about an hour. Why? Change your mind and want to come along?” She was so proud of Regan. At twenty-eight, she would soon be a famous film director. She was bright, beautiful and everything that Allison had not been at her age.
“No, I’ve got a party to go to tonight with my friends in Jackson.”
Sniffing as she withdrew the dress from the closet, Allison whisked by her daughter. “Oh, Regan, how can you be around those Goth friends? They’re nothing like you!”
“Mom, don’t go there,” Regan sighed. She followed her mother to the bathroom where she slipped on her clothes. Leaning casually on the doorjamb as her mother dressed, she said, “I love my friends. I don’t care if they’re Goths.”
“You can’t possibly love anyone who goes around looking like a vampire, Regan. You’re better than that! What are you going to do when you go to film school next year?”
Frowning, Regan crossed her arms. “I don’t know, Mom. I feel torn. I don’t want to leave my friends. And every time I think of leaving you here at the ranch, I get butterflies in my stomach.”
Allison patted her daughter’s arm. “Darling, you have the world in your hands. I had nothing at your age. You have money, you have an impeccable pedigree through your father and me and you are destined for greatness in Hollywood. Getting into USC is a coup and you know that. We’re so proud of you.” She leaned over and kissed Regan on her unruly red hair.
“I’d much rather be a star like you,” Regan muttered.
“No, you wouldn’t,” Allison growled in a husky tone. She shifted and moved her dress around, finally pleased with her efforts. “You’re going to USC to learn how to make movies. That is a much more powerful position, trust me. As an actor, you’re always at the mercy of producers and directors. I don’t want you to go through what I did to attain my stardom.”
“I guess…”
“You love filming! You’ve produced the shows at your high school and college. You’re a natural, Regan. I know you got the Hollywood gene from me. But I want to see you funnel your creativity into a superior role.”
Regan started to brighten a little. “I just got done with the final edit of my new movie for the Sedona Film Festival.”
“Good!” She patted Regan’s arm as she moved by her and back into the bedroom. “I must see it when I return.”
“You can see a copy of it. I have to send it by carrier to the officials of that festival.”
“That’s fine.” Allison picked up her cream-colored ostrich handbag and slid her feet into the narrow, three-inch heels. “There. How do I look?”
Regan smiled. “You look beautiful, Mom. Like the star you are.”
“Thank you! Now, go fetch Wes. He’s to take my bags to the SUV and drive me to the airport.” Looking at the slim gold Rolex watch on her slender wrist, Allison noted she was right on time.
“I’ll go get him,” Regan called, leaving the room.
Standing alone, Allison scanned their suite. She hated Wyoming. In order to stay in the business, she had to be in Hollywood. Once she got there, she’d go to her new rental apartment in Studio City. Her agent was working to get her other readings for other shows. Allison would schmooze directors and producers to use her for bit parts. It hurt to know that she’d never be considered for a big part again because of her age. With a soft curse of frustration, Allison shrugged, put it all behind her and clicked imperiously out of the room. Hollywood was waiting.
IRIS WATCHED Allison get into the SUV with Wes Sheridan’s help. With Kam at her side, she was in her iris patch alongside the ranch house.
“There goes the Queen of Mean,” she told Kam.
“What?” Kam was on her hands and knees putting fertilizer on the iris rhizomes. Clumps of brown, damp leaves were pulled away from the roots to expose and feed them.
“Allison Dubois,” Iris muttered. She shook her dirtied glove finger in the direction of the parking lot. “Allison thinks she’s a movie star.” Snorting, she added, “And now her agent has gotten her a reading for some bit part in a television show.”
“Will she get it?” Kam asked, pulling a handful of compost from the sack sitting between them.
“Doubtful. Allison is almost fifty. And Hollywood is for young things. I don’t know why she doesn’t give up chasing that rainbow.” Iris got back down on her knees a few feet up the line of plants from Kam.
“Was she a star at one time?” Kam wondered. Her run-ins with Allison had been few and brief. It was obvious she was disdainful of Kam and felt she was a lowly servant instead of an equal.
Digging around the rhizomes and pulling last year’s leaves from the earth, Iris said, “She never made it. Oh, she’ll tell you she had bit parts, but they were in B movies and that wa
s it. There’s a lot to Allison that is secret. I’ve never trusted her. And I don’t know why my son fell for her.”
“She’s beautiful,” Kam said, patting down the compost over the slightly exposed rhizomes. “Men seem to fall for beautiful women instead of women like us. Not that we’re ugly or anything, but we’re attractive and natural.”
“Humph. Allison won’t even come out of her suite in the morning unless she’s got a pound of pancake on that Botox-filled and lifted face of hers. I can’t stand seeing her in full Hollywood glamour around here. A ranch is no place for someone who wants to wear thousand-dollar designer dresses and three-inch-high heels.” Lifting her gloved hands out of the soil, Iris showed them to Kam. “Allison would never think of getting her hands dirty. Nor would her spoiled children.”
Kam laughed and sprinkled more of the rich, black compost down the line of irises. “I think I’ve seen Regan four times since I got here. She doesn’t seem much like her mother and maybe that’s good. I hear from Rudd that she’s due to go to USC to learn filmmaking? That’s pretty awesome.”
“Yes. Regan has her mother’s airs because Allison brainwashed the girl. Regan is not a bad person, just distorted by her mother’s ambitions. It’s taken her a while to figure out what she wants to do with her life.” Straightening, Iris put her hands on her hips. “Regan does show a real talent for movies. She’s going to send her first film to the Sedona Film Festival. I’m hoping she wins a prize or at least an honorable mention.”
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