But somehow he found the strength to keep going. And now he couldn't do it.
"Nope. I can't."
A.J. started to stand up but he felt a powerful hand on his shoulder. It forced him to sit abruptly. When he looked around, no one was there. A shiver raced from his head to the tip of his toes.
Do this for me, my love.
He blew his nose then rested his chin on the box.
And for the kids.
A.J. had sensed for some time that something was wrong at the ranch. He could feel it in the way Anne sounded--too perky to be real. And the way Will seemed to be avoiding his calls. When they did talk, Will only answered questions about the ranch or the stock. He never mentioned Anne or the future.
Only Zoey was completely honest. When A.J. called last week, Zoey told him, "They don't argue like Mommy and Daddy did when he still lived with us, but, Grandpa, they don't talk much, either. This morning after riding lessons, I asked Will if he and Mommy were mad at each other and he said, 'Adults don't always agree on everything, but that doesn't mean they don't like each other and r'spect each other.' Does that mean they're still friends, or not?"
"I'm sure they're friends, honey. Did you ask your mother how she feels about Will?"
"She said, 'Not now, Zoey, I have a headache.' You don't think she's sick, do you? Like Gramma Esther?"
A.J. had reassured the little girl that her mother wasn't going to die anytime soon. "They're probably just anxious to get back to their real jobs."
"Either that or they're in love," Zoey said with such frank simplicity A.J. almost laughed.
"What makes you say that?"
"My friend Tressa said her mother told somebody that on the phone. Tressa says people in love do stupid things and are sad all the time except right at first when they laugh a lot and buy new clothes."
A.J. was struck dumb by the child's observation.
"That's why I don't think Mommy's in love," Zoey continued. "She hasn't been to a store in weeks."
A.J.'s heart nearly burst with affection. "How 'bout Will? Has he been shopping'?"
She was silent a few moments, apparently giving his question due thought. "I don't think so, but he's been talking about getting a new truck. Does that count?"
Unable to repress a chuckle, A.J. had answered as truthfully as possible, "It just might, sweetness. We'll have to keep an eye on them and see what happens."
A.J. sighed and put the conversation out of his head. He had no business fretting about Will's and Anne's problems. They were adults. They would do what was best for them without his interference. He shouldn't have to rush through this very important step in his mourning because they couldn't fall in love and live happily ever after, like him and Esther. "Dang kids have to make everything so complicated," he muttered. "Won't they ever grow up?"
We never did.
A.J. lifted his head and saw Esther standing before him, as healthy and robust and beautiful as she'd been before her illness. A rush of tenderness overwhelmed him. Memories of their life together flashed through his mind. He wondered if he was having a heart attack.
You're not going to die, my love. Not yet. You still have work to do. Do you want more grandchildren or not?
"I can't do it, Esther. I can't let you go."
Those are just ashes, my love. This is the reason you came. To honor my parents and live up to your promise. Let Maine have my ashes, I'm still right here beside you, in spirit.
Suddenly, A.J. felt an abiding sense of peace. He knew why he'd come all this way. My promise. "I'll bring her back," he'd vowed so many years ago. "And a Cavanaugh never goes back on his word."
He set the bronze urn on the rock and clumsily rose, his knees catching from sitting still too long. After brushing his hands on the seat of his pants, he picked up the metal box and walked to the water's edge. Best get this done. I gotta get home. “Darned kids can't even manage to work together a couple of months without doing something foolish.”
As the gray ash mingled with the dark, frothy water, he heard Esther's distinctive laugh. Falling in love is never foolish, you old goat. Love is life eternal. Now, get home and fix things.
It wasn't until he was in the motor home headed west that he recalled Esther's words. Do you want more grandchildren or not? A.J.'s heart lifted and he reached over to turn down the volume on the radio.
Smiling, he glanced at the empty passenger seat and said aloud, "So, tell me this, Miss Smarty-pants, if my grandson and my stepdaughter have a child, will it be my grandchild or my great-grandchild?"
There wasn't an answer, but then he wasn't expecting one. Instead, A.J. felt a wonderful, life-affirming laugh bubble up from a place deep inside his chest. An Esther kind of laugh.
He had to pull off the road to wipe the tears from his eyes, but they were good tears. Healing tears.
Chapter 12
Anne awoke to a low, placid sound. She recognized it as breathing. A man's breathing. Will.
Turning her head on the pillow, she opened her eyes. What a gift! A handsome man beside her. Tendrils of pale yellow light slipped past the slits in the miniblinds that rattled with the morning breeze. The window, she noticed, was open. Had she cried out his name?
She smiled. Oh, yeah. She'd lost count of how many times.
Lifting up on her elbows, she looked around the room. Boots upended. Jeans in a heap. Will had stashed the telltale condom wrappers, though.
What a sweet and thoughtful man.
And virile.
Her smile turned into a grin. Three times in one night. Four if you counted the shower. And, boy, did she.
She'd never in her life made love four times in one night. The wonder of it made her grin. Eduardo paled by comparison. Exotic Spanish artists be damned! Give me a cowboy any day--or night.
Moving with care, she slipped out of bed. Her good humor paled slightly when she spotted the alarm clock. She'd forgotten to set it, for the second time since she'd moved here. She had a good excuse, though. Her partner had kept her too occupied to think about anything other than mad, passionate sex.
She tiptoed into the adjoining bathroom and nearly landed on her bare rump when her foot connected with a puddle of water. Her grin returned. Fact: two people in a tub of bubbles equals spillage.
She used a damp towel to mop up the moisture while waiting for the shower to warm up. The shower. "We need to rinse off these bubbles, don't we?" he'd asked with such an innocent smile. She closed her eyes and pictured their squeaky clean bodies rubbing up against each other like otters in kelp. Will's tongue introducing her to an aspect of her personality she hadn't known she possessed.
Possessed. Good word. Perhaps the only explanation for her behavior. Never, not even during the earliest days of her marriage, had Anne responded to a lover with such inhibition. She'd liked the feeling. Too bad we can't...
Anne brushed away the thought. Reality loomed, but she preferred to face it after a cup of coffee. Today was definitely not a day for tea.
Fifteen minutes later, Anne walked into the kitchen. Most Sunday mornings were low-key. People who were leaving used the time to pack. New guests wouldn't be arriving until much later in the day. Two-week guests liked to sleep in or sip coffee on their porches so they could say goodbye to the people they'd met.
As Anne had expected, Joy was bustling about her domain, preparing for the ten o'clock brunch, humming along with a hymn on the radio.
"'Morning," Anne said, making a bee line for the coffeepot. "Did you enjoy your night off?"
"Well, good morning, sleepyhead," Joy called out, her back to Anne. She was intently scrubbing a pan at the sink. "The grandkids and I watched a Disney movie." She glanced over her shoulder. "Kinda cute. About a bunch of dogs in Alaska." Her eyes narrowed. "What's happened here that I don't know about?"
Anne tried to hide her blush in the steam from her coffee mug. "Umm...not much."
Joy gave a little yip. She looked out the window toward Will's cabin then back at Anne. T
he question was obvious.
Anne gave up the bluff. She couldn't hide what they'd done. Besides, she wasn't ashamed. Worried, maybe, but not ashamed. "He's upstairs."
"Oh my gosh," Joy exclaimed. The skillet in her hand dropped into the water, sending suds flying. Joy grabbed a towel and dried her hands as she scuttled across the room to give Anne a rib-cracking hug. "Well, good for you...both."
Anne's coffee sloshed over the rim of the cup. "Spilling," she peeped.
Joy quickly knelt to wipe up the mess. "All I can say is it's about time," she said, giving Anne a good-natured wink. "And A.J. is going to be tickled pink that new blood is taking over the Silver Rose. And family, no less."
Anne's sip of coffee lodged in her throat. She swallowed with difficulty. "Joy, I hope I didn't give you the wrong impression. Will and I care for each other but we don't have any plans for the future. Nothing...long-term, I mean.” She stumbled over the word as a wave of regret washed over her.
"Oh, pshaw," Joy said, returning to the sink. "A plan is like a recipe. It gives you the guidelines to go by, but you add your own quantities and spices to make it fit your life and taste buds."
She rinsed a pan and placed it on the drying rack before turning to face Anne. "Everybody raves about my calico bean recipe, but I never thought it was anything special until I tossed in a few of those chipotle peppers. I'd heard of them on the cooking channel but didn't know how they'd taste. One day, I saw a can in the store and, on impulse, bought it. When I got home, I called your mother up and asked her what she thought. And being Esther, she said, ‘Go for it. What's livin' without change?’ ”
Anne smiled, but before she could reply, Joy added, "Didn't you tell me you had a plan in mind when you married Zoey's daddy?"
Her point was obvious. Barry had fit into Anne's plan until the introduction of a new ingredient. But loving Will and being in love with Will were two different things. One meant a respite from loneliness, the other meant drastic changes for one of them. Anne knew only too well what happened when you tried to force change. She and Will both had lives waiting for them in September. Totally incompatible lives.
"Joy, this thing between me and Will is supposed to be a harmless, little summer fling. He has his life. I have mine. There is no middle ground."
Joy made a chuckling sound. "Sure there is, honey. It's called the Silver Rose. You two belong here. A.J. can't run this place alone. What you and Will need to do is cut loose the old and focus on the new."
The coffee in Anne's stomach churned. "That's easier said than done. I'm inches away from the promotion I've been breaking my back to get. I can't just drop out of the game."
"Why not?"
A tingle pulsed through her. The question sounded familiar. How long had it been zinging about in her head, whispered in silence? Weeks? Months? Since the first time she saw Will Cavanaugh step out of his foolish yellow truck? "Because this is my career. It's what I do. The same way Will is a bull rider. He's going back to that, too, you know," she added defensively.
Joy took a deep breath and let it out. She dried her hands and turned to face Anne. "Not according to what I heard."
Anne moved closer. "What do you mean?"
Joy frowned. Her candy-apple cheeks deepened in hue. "This is just hearsay, Anne, so you'd best take it for what it's worth. My friend's son-in-law is a stock handler with one of the companies that provides bucking bulls to the PBR. This is a small world. Everybody knows everybody."
Anne froze. "So?"
"People talk. Especially when one of their own gets hurt."
Anne nodded to encourage her to keep talking.
"Remember hearing about Will's last ride? He landed wrong on his head. He was knocked unconscious and had to be taken off on a stretcher."
Anne hadn't heard that but she didn't say so to Joy. "He was okay, though. He seems fine now."
Joy nodded. "True. But there was talk at the time that he wouldn't ride again. Some went so far as to say that if Will risked another ride, he might wind up dead or paralyzed."
Anne swallowed hard to keep her coffee in her stomach. Hadn't Linda mentioned a similar rumor? Could it be true? She understood Will's need to prove himself, but surely he wouldn't risk his life for his dead father's approval? But what else could drive him to take such a foolhardy risk? The money? She knew riches held little allure for Will. He owned land he didn't ranch. His single possession was a truck he didn't like. Was he in it for the fame? She doubted it. He always reacted modestly when guests asked about his career. The glory? No, Anne couldn't see it. What she could see was Will in a hospital bed with tubes and machines keeping him alive.
She set down her cup and dashed for the door. She'd just reached the foyer when she spotted Will on the stairs. A wide smile lit up his face when he saw her. She recognized the look in his eyes. Love. He loved her as she loved him--even if neither of them had been brave enough to say the words aloud.
"Good morning, beautiful.” He walked straight to Anne. His arms rose as if to hug her, but stalled when she put out a hand to stop him. "Anne? Are you okay?"
A tornado of emotions whirled inside her brain: fear, bafflement, anger, love, defeat, remorse.
"No," she said, her voice choking on tears. "No, Will, I'm not okay. I'm furious. With you."
His freshly shaved jaw dropped. "Why?"
"Because I just found out that I love you, you stupid idiot."
His initial smile faded when she added, "It happened by accident. I thought I could do the sex thing and be okay with it, but then I woke up and saw you there. Damn it, Will, you snore. A nice, happy snore, like a contented dog. I could get used to that.
"And when I was in the shower, I toyed with the idea of trying to make this work. But then I found out that you're insane. I fell in love with a madman. And I hate you."
The look on his face went from surprise to joy to confusion. "Crazy how? Because I love you, too?"
She stabbed her finger on his chest, dead center above his heart. "No. Don't even say that word unless you can tell me that you're never going to ride another bull."
He stepped back. "What are you talking about?"
Suddenly, her mind was filled with the image she'd seen on the television last night before Will came to her room. A gate opened. A huge, powerful bull leaped into the air, snorting and twisting. The man on his back fell off, but his hand was caught in the rope. His body flapped and slapped like a rag doll until the moment the rope released and he dropped lifelessly to the ground. After a few seconds, the cowboy--Will--had stumbled to his feet. He'd waved to the crowd and picked up his hat, then faltered, his pain obvious. Two men had helped him from the arena. If what Joy said was true, the next time might hold a totally different outcome.
She drew back, being careful not to touch him. "Were you advised to stop riding because your next fall could be fatal?"
He looked toward the ceiling and let out a soft groan. "Where'd you hear that?"
"Is it true, Will?"
He looked her squarely in the eye. "More or less, but..."
Anne turned away. She couldn't listen to excuses. Barry had given her plenty when he explained why it was best for Anne and Zoey that he leave. She paused at the foot of the stairs. "Please tell Joy that Zoey and I are going to spend the day in Reno. We need to shop for school clothes. We might be late."
"Anne, wait." He put his hand on her shoulder. His touch went all the way to her toes. "Let me go with you. We can talk in the car. Before we pick up Zoey."
She wanted more than anything to crawl into his arms and forget what she'd heard, what she knew for a fact. Will cared for her, deeply. But he wouldn't--or maybe he couldn't--give up bull riding. Even if it killed him.
"No. She'll pick up on the tension between us. She's very sensitive to my moods. It wouldn't be good for her."
"Is it Zoey you're worried about, or yourself?"
She lifted her chin. "Both. I'm a mother first. Just like you’re a bull rider first, lover sec
ond. Now, if you don't mind, I need some time." To think. To plan. To put the most wonderful night of my life behind me.
Two hours disappeared beneath the burden of figuring out how to turn on the computer and print receipts for the guests who were checking out, and how to settle a squabble between members of the housekeeping staff. Will closed the office door. He would have hung a Do Not Disturb sign on the handle, but he didn't know where Anne kept them.
Even though the circumstances were different, Will thought he understood how overwhelmed his grandfather must have felt after Esther died. A.J. didn't just lose his wife, he lost his partner. Anne had made herself such an integral part of the Silver Rose's makeup that Will couldn't picture the place succeeding without her.
Will sat down heavily in his grandfather's chair. He rolled his neck to loosen the tension that had been building since Anne left. This wasn't how he'd pictured the day unfolding. Mildly disappointed that he didn't get to kiss Anne awake, he guessed that he'd find her in the kitchen, helping Joy. Anne was driven--not just in her city job, but in everything she did. He appreciated that goal-oriented attitude because he shared it.
That was one of the reasons he was so ticked off. Apparently what was okay for Anne--dreams and ambition--wasn't acceptable for Will.
Joy had apologetically explained about the rumor she'd shared with Anne. Will wasn't surprised to learn that people had heard of his diagnosis. Will could have denied the allegation, but that would have been a lie. What angered him was the way Anne left without giving him a chance to explain.
That time in high school when he got too close to her, she'd clammed up and hidden behind her plans for college. Apparently this time, she was going to use his job and her daughter to keep them apart.
He was tempted to cut his losses and throw in the towel. We had a good time last night. Hell, the best damn time of his life. But was that enough to make him give up bull riding?
Her Forever Cowboy Page 22