by Tanya Hanson
Next week, next month, next year.
Thankfully, the churchgoers returned to distract them. As the cars pulled up, he pulled away from Rachel, willing her to feel his reluctance as well as his comfort. Addie dispelled any awkwardness when she burst through the kitchen door, wreathed in smiles, and threw herself into his arms.
It was a moment he’d longed for many months, and he held his daughter close.
“Dad, Bible study was awesome. I met some cool kids. And our teacher is this real beautiful widow Carol Aubrey. A widow, Dad.” She mouthed the words succinctly. “Can I go next week?”
His heart lightened a bit at her words. Addie mentioning something about a beautiful widow might mean she wouldn’t object if he were interested in seriously dating. That she had gone past some of her resentment about losing her mother. And her eagerness encouraged him that she’d embrace the move to Woodside Meadows. She’d be near Hearts Crossing for riding and lessons and even a horse of her own. Making new friends was the third scoop on a double cone.
“Of course you can go. I’ll make sure of it.”
Addie’s face shone, but her hands rested stubbornly on her hips. “And Dad. The Beemer has got to go. Everybody around here has a truck.”
He tried one of her eyerolls. “All right. You made your point.”
“OK. I’m going to play with Matty. He’s the cutest little boy ever.” She ran outside.
Brayton glanced over at Rachel, but she was busy pouring heavy cream into a big casserole. Her cheeks were bright pink, though. He knew he’d affected her, and his feeling of rejection eased. What was he thinking anyhow, trying to kiss a woman whose broken heart was still cracking? He rolled his eyes again, this time at himself. His reputation for perfect timing in a business deal sure hadn’t carried over today. But...Next week, next month, next year. Rachel Martin was definitely worth waiting for.
9
Monday morning would have dawned like any other except for the dream Rachel had during the night. About Brayton Metcalf and the tantalizing lips he’d placed so close to her own. Why had she pushed him away? She was attracted to him, wanted the kiss, wanted to be held once again by somebody strong and caring. It was just a kiss, after all. So why all squirmy and teenager-ish.
With a groan, she let herself into her comfy office above the Front Range Bootery on Main Street in Mountain Cove. It wasn’t as if she was holding Nick’s kisses in her heart as some pinnacle another man could never reach. She’d already made it clear to everybody she wasn’t ready for anything serious, anything long-term or permanent.
And a kiss was just a kiss. Why hadn’t she indulged? Just once, just for a second. Shaking her head, she hung her coat on a bentwillow rack.
Regret swamped her, but it didn’t matter anyway. They had shared some deep understanding, some comfort together, but that was all. She needed time to figure out her heart. Besides, Brayton was back in River Ridge, busy with the cutting horses of his Red Hill Ranch enterprise. After Sunday dinner, he and Addie had done the horsemanship class, so Rachel hadn’t seen him the rest of the day. And he’d said a good-bye through Ma when he’d left for home, since she’d been busy with Matty. Disappointment had swamped her then. Now.
She’d likely not see him up close and personal any time soon. Next Saturday, Scott would be back to handling Addie’s lesson. So Rachel might as well get over any notions of a kiss, just in case she ended up wanting one some other time.
She flipped on the heater, just to chase away the chill lingering from the weekend. Kisses were just kisses…even though she clearly called her first one ever, all those years ago during freshman year in high school, with Jace Bennett underneath the bleachers at the homecoming game. Nothing permanent had ever transpired between her and the hometown boy despite their years together. What chance did she stand with a rich big city businessman?
But Nick. The remembrance of the first time their lips had collided, both with sweetness and with force, sent fire through her nerve endings one more time. Then she snarled into the warm blast of air. Look how permanent that had gone. For once, she was able to swallow the pain, the fury.
Ack. Men!
Rachel dumped her purse in a drawer of her desk, settled in with her laptop and e-mail. Afterward, she grabbed a pile of papers and tried to rid her mind of Brayton. Nearly impossible, but she managed to study the proposed faculty contracts and parent agreements she was doing pro bono for a preschool starting up in Promise. Sunshine House had urged her to enroll Matty, but he was content three days a week in Joanne Hale’s Gospel Light Nursery School at church. Rachel herself was no shining beacon of faith these days, but she wanted better for her impressionable little boy.
Wow. Rachel was impressed. Tiffany, who had drafted the first round of the documents, definitely had a way with legalese. Rachel was sure going to miss her during the maternity leave. After a few business calls and two tedious hours of filing paperwork, the phone rang. Her heart wanted to flutter. Brayton. But...
“Howdy Rachel. It’s Jace. Jace Bennett.”
Speak of the devil. “Why, hello.” She decided not to mention she’d very recently had a fleeting remembrance of kissing him. “How are you, Jace? It’s been a while.”
“Doing OK,” he said, and she almost heard the sound of a shrug. “Thing is. I need a tad of legal advice. Got new boot heels just now and saw your car parked out back. Wondered if I could make an appointment.”
“Of course. I’m free now. If you are, come on up.”
“Sure thing. On my way. And thanks.”
As she hung up the phone, curiosity churned. She could hear his uneven footfalls up the steps outside her door, his left leg dragging. A great deal of modern technology, screws and titanium held his bones upright, and he’d been on Pastor Hale’s prayer list for months. After his accident, she’d wanted to visit him as friends do when an old chum comes home again, but then Nick’s death had upended her own life and she hadn’t made it.
When he came through the door, her heart didn’t hammer in the slightest. Oh, he was handsome all right. Tight jeans, well-loved boots with spanking new heels peeking from the hem. Black Stetson and sun-squinted eyes. All cowpoke and then some. But not the breathlessness of beholding Brayton.
She always dressed for success at the office, her version of Vogue consisting of her favorite well-fitting black jeans, white blouse and its pearl studs complemented by a turquoise scarf draped around neck and chest. The butter-soft brown leather of her boots climbed up her calves like a man’s soft touch.
Whew. Where had that come from? Because she had worn them knowing Brayton would like them? She forced professionalism into every pore.
“Come on in.” She smiled, peacock-feather chandelier earrings dusting her cheeks as she moved from her desk. Jace’s grin seemed to preclude anything high drama. And with their history, she had no compunction at all about sharing one of the waiting room sofas with him rather than peering from behind her desk.
“So what can I do for you, Jace?” She shook his hand then waved hers over the sofa. “Please, take a seat.”
He didn’t answer or sit down right away. Instead, he balanced his hat on his fingers and turned his head every which way. The ragged but fashionable edges of his dark blond hair scattered over his shoulders and well, she couldn’t deny liking the sight. “Nice place.”
“Thanks.” Looking around with him kept her reaction grounded. Two of Grim-Gram’s oils decorated opposite walls, one a delicious Western red-rock landscape you wanted to take a trail ride through, the other a portrait of Chief Joseph that had garnered her grandmother a blue ribbon at the county fair amateur art competition the year she’d died.
Jace headed toward a burlwood sofa table set with a dozen framed photographs.
“Nice picture.”
She knew which photo he meant. The family portrait. Her and Nick’s family. Pain swam in her head. Her favorite Christmas present that year of Nick’s deployment, Scott had Photoshopped a picture of her ho
lding Matty with a headshot of Nick in full dress uniform. The result was nothing short of astonishing. The casual onlooker would never know the picture of the three of them had been manipulated, hadn’t been taken at the same time, same place.
“A good man. A hero.”
She nodded, blinking back tears. Fingers tightened around the fringe of a sofa pillow. “That he was.”
“You must miss him.”
Good at reading people, Rachel reckoned Jace might be feeling out her burgeoning readiness to date again. “I do. But let’s talk about you. What brings you here? Would you like coffee? It won’t take but a sec to brew up a pot.”
Jace moved aside the cluster of pillows and settled on the couch facing her.
“Nope. I plan a stop at the Coffee Corral after this. Thanks, though.”
Rachel tried to un-tense a tad against another collection of pillows. “How are you doing, Jace. Physically, I mean.”
His sigh was long, and the look of dismay on his face cut to the bone. “I’ll be having physical therapy for a long time. Maybe my whole life.” His cheekbones reddened. “But mentally I’m just, well, not in a good place. I’ll never ride again. My rodeo career gone, just like that.”
Her heart pounded just hearing the words. She knew all about split-second instances that ruined a life. Ruined lives.
Ruined faith itself. Well, Esther might have found the truth in three days’ time, but Rachel seemed only to grab at air when she reached out. “I know,” she said. “Things can change on a dime, that’s for sure. But remember, you didn’t lose your life.”
Even she heard the rip of pain in her voice.
“I heard he fell at Cheyenne Bluff.”
“He tried to climb down on his own.” Pain wracked her, and Jace grimaced. He’d swum there enough to know about the inviting but dangerous place. “He should have...oh, it was just so stupid.”
“Shoulda used the ropes.” He breathed harsh again. “I hear ya. About doing something stupid.”
Pre-emptive strike. “Jace, I’m not a personal injury lawyer.”
“No, no. I just meant.” He slapped the thigh of his good leg. “I did this to myself. I was competing in Pillsberry, South Dakota, waiting to win the ‘Pecos’ buckle.”
“Impressive.” She meant it. The Coleman ‘Pecos’ Willer Memorial Bull Riding Championship invited only the crème de la crème.
Jace shrugged. “But the day before, I got the word my divorce was final. I mean, I knew it was comin.’” He looked past Rachel, and she read his expression easily. He was seeing back into another life. “And I set to drinking hard. All night long. Something I just don’t do.”
He groaned. “I shoulda dropped out of the competition next morning. I was so hung over I couldn’t see. But I wanted to win. Wanted Peggy to see what she’d be missin.’ I think that bull threw me thirty feet into the air. Least that’s what it felt like.”
Pain seared his voice, but her pity fled. It was self-inflicted, all of it. His eyes glazed with tears, but her heart didn’t soften much. “So I know all about doing something stupid and your life changing on a dime. But I didn’t...didn’t mean to...”
They both stayed silent. Part of her wanted to tell him she was sorry, but she was tired of trying to understand men’s egos. Life was full of disappointment, maybe as much as joy. Yet...deep down she knew Nick hadn’t meant to, either. He had wanted to live the life he’d lived with her. Before. Without the counselors, the meds. Without all the ropes to keep him in place.
Something warm touched her cheek again. A blast from the heater? But words started to pound in her head. Put your hand in My hand. My power will hold you firm. Trust Me. Tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, I will care for you. I will rejoice with you and hold you close….
Jace’s hand thumped his thigh again, and she remembered her calling to help others, to listen, to assist. Just like God promised her.
Just like He’d done now, untying her own knots of regret and guilt.
Jace broke into her thoughts. “Well, thing is, Rachel. I’ve got a custody thing going on.”
They were back to business. “Jace, I don’t do family law either. But I can recommend a fine firm in Denver.”
His good-looking face blushed an even darker red. “I…”
“I know them, Jace.” She reckoned he couldn’t afford a big-time firm, so she added, softly. “You’ll be able to negotiate decent terms, you know. With no income coming in.”
With a grim chuckle, he shook his head. “Nah. I’ve got money put away. But I don’t want somebody I don’t know thinking I’m a fool.”
“I’m not sure I understand.” And she didn’t. Local hearsay had indicated the Bennett divorce had been an amicable one, with joint custody and no acrimony.
“I just want my dog back.” Jace’s voice was as firm as his good foot hitting the ground in emphasis.
“What?” Was he kidding?
“I mean it, Rachel. Peggy took him for the kids. Which means I got nobody at home waiting for me. Drifter could keep my toes warm at night. I could walk him, keep my sorry leg exercised. Get stronger.”
Rachel wanted to smile but Jace seemed dead serious. “Jace, I can’t deny dogs are a big part of one’s life. But your kids love Drifter. He’s part of their lives, too. Why not start over with another dog? The shelter in Promise is full of wonderful pets who need a home.”
“Maybe you could go help me pick one out?” Jace’s eyebrows rose hopefully.
Then she got it. This was the lamest pickup line ever. “Ah, Jace, you really don’t want your dog back, do you?”
“Well, yeah. ’Course I do.” He shuffled his feet. “But mostly I wanted to see you.”
Rachel couldn’t help feeling flattered. Two handsome cowboys in two days. Old times revved up inside her head. At least she and Jace had a history and wouldn’t have to start fresh. Same as getting an older, broken-in dog. You didn’t have to deal with all the unknowns.
Halt the chemistry or whatever it was with Brayton. Keep him at bay.
She nodded. “You know, a visit to the shelter just might work. I could look into a dog for my little boy.”
“Thought you had dogs running all over the place at the ranch.”
“We do. Working dogs. I’m thinking along the lines of a house pet. I’ll likely move us into a condo at Woodside Meadows.”
“Ought to get a cat then.” Jace wrinkled his nose. “Dogs need a yard. Well, set me a time then. In the meantime, wanna get some Joe at the Coffee Corral?” His cheeks colored again. “My ma set up my bachelor kitchen with some kind of fancy coffee pot I haven’t figured out yet.”
“And I can’t imagine you’ve spent one single second reading the directions, either,” she said drily, glancing at her watch as she stood up. “Sure. I’ve got about forty five minutes before I pick up Matty at preschool. Let me get my jacket.”
10
Brayton’s heart hummed along with the nameless tune coming from between his lips, and his boots kept time as they clattered along the plank sidewalks of Mountain Cove. God really did provide. The mercantile had had one official middle school sweatshirt left in Addie’s size. She’d declared with great drama that she needed one.
Satisfaction laved him. She’d taken to the idea of a move and a new school like flint to fire. They’d come in from Red Hill first thing this morning to enroll her. Then he’d booked two comfy rooms at the Gingham Grove Bed and Breakfast Inn while the transition to the Woodside Meadows townhouse was carried out. Empty, cold, and never lived in, the place needed everything from the ground up. He didn’t have much confidence in his personal taste beyond a leather coach and big-screen TV—he’d had an interior designer in L.A., and that stuff had filled up the Red Hill house just fine.
A girl could figure things out, although at this point in her life, Addie’s preferences ran heavily toward hot pink and lavender. He grinned. This coming weekend, after her riding lesson, they would trek to Denver overnight, hit departm
ent and discount stores for every stick of furniture and utensil imaginable and get them delivered quickly as possible.
Thoughts turned to Rachel. In a perfect world, she’d be giving the riding lesson again. But if she didn’t, and he were desperate, he could always seek her out for decorating advice. Today, certainly, would be the day to tell her about his plan to move. Yesterday’s seriousness, and the fact that he hadn’t yet told Addie, had deemed the sharing of such news intrusive, forced. Way too convenient. And truth to tell, she’d kind of avoided him after she popped the mac and cheese into the oven. Maybe his attempt at a kiss had turned her off. Then Rodeo College had kept him out of her way, and she’d been nowhere around when he and Addie had packed up to leave for their Red Hill Ranch in River Ridge.
Driving off without a goodbye had hurt. Hurt big time.
Women. His heart tugged a tad in disappointment.
As she walked out of his thoughts, Rachel stepped right in his way in front of the Butterbean Café. He stumbled, but not because he lost his footing. It was seeing her arm hooked into that of a sturdy cowboy. He breathed deep to control his pounding heart.
“Excuse me, man,” said the guy as he drew Rachel out of the line of fire. “Sorry ’bout that.”
Well, it had been Brayton’s fault, too distracted to watch where he walked, but Rachel’s cinnamon scent on the air made it worth it. Blood ran quick in his veins. But what was she doing, all cozy with this guy when she’d made it clear she wasn’t ready for romance?
“Brayton!” She sounded as shocked as he felt. “I…thought you were back in River Ridge?”
He wiggled the shopping bag as he steadied his voice, tried not to think of the weekend at Hearts Crossing Ranch with both its highs and its lows.
“Hmmm. Last night Addie and I had a long talk on the way back to the Red Hill. I’ve been homeschooling her, but we both decided it would be good for her to go to middle school. So we came in first thing to sign her up.” To lighten the awkwardness, to smooth the line between Rachel’s eyebrows, he opened the bag and held up his purchase. “Finding a ‘Mustang’ sweatshirt was my order for the day.”