"One time she patrolled the garden at midnight with a flashlight. A guest happened to look out his window and saw a woman in a long white gown flashing a light and pacing back and forth. Nothing we said could convince him he hadn't seen a ghost." A.J. chuckled. "Your mother got a big kick out of that. I'm surprised she didn't write you about it."
Anne vaguely remembered hearing something about a "haunting," but she hadn't realized the story was garden-related. "Are you serious or just being nice?" she asked. "Mom had problems like this?"
Anne took his elbow and ushered him to the box where her decimated tomato plants stood. The leafless stalks reminded her of something she'd seen in photos of forest fires. "I mean, look here, A.J. I didn't even have enough tomatoes for dinner last night. I know Mother's tomatoes were more plentiful than this. She used to send me jars of her homemade salsa."
He reached out and plucked a two-inch-long green worm from the plant. The beast reared back and glared at him. A.J. dropped it to the ground and crushed it under his heel, nodding with satisfaction when it exploded, sending green goo in every direction.
Anne jumped sideways with a squawk. "That's gross," she said, knowing she sounded exactly like her daughter.
"True, but your mother seemed to get tremendous satisfaction from squishing them." He winked. "I think the worms were a challenge to her. She could have bought chemicals to kill them, but she liked her garden organic--even if it meant losing a few tomatoes."
"How'd she get enough to can salsa?"
"Bought 'em."
Anne nearly dropped her cup. "What?" she cried. "I've been busting my butt out here trying to be as good a gardener as my mother and you're telling me she bought tomatoes?"
A.J. appeared to be trying not to smile. "Who said Esther was a great gardener?"
Anne pointed to the shed. "I found her laminated gardening tips in there. And all the seeds and fertilizer and stuff. Her tip sheet looks professional."
He nodded. "It is. She copied it from some television program. Truth is, every year she ended up so mad she swore she wasn't going to have a garden ever again. But then the seed catalogs would arrive and she'd start planning. Last fall, before she fell ill, she said this summer was going to be her glory year." His eyes misted. "That's why she made that how-to page and took it into town to have it laminated."
Anne couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. "I wish I'd known."
"Why?" he asked. "What would you have done differently?"
Anne thought a minute, remembering Will eating the winter carrots, planting peas with Zoey, plotting to exterminate the mouse that made off with her beans. "Nothing, I guess. 'Cept maybe fumigate for tomato worms."
A.J. put his arm around her shoulder and led her to the gate. "There's always next year."
Anne's heart felt as though A.J. had lanced it with a tine of the pitch fork she'd left by the shed. How could she tell him she'd made up her mind to return to New York? And she wouldn't be back next year, either. Any dream she had of spending her summers in Nevada was pure fantasy. Anne knew the realities of her job. Once she was back in the groove, she'd be lucky to find two weeks free, let alone three months.
Instead of walking to the porch, A.J. led her to the shade of what Anne had come to think of as the piñata tree. She would never forget her daughter's joy--and Will's look of surprise--when Zoey swung with wild abandon at the colorful papier-maché pony.
A.J. lowered himself stiffly to the bench of the picnic table. Anne sat down across from him, not bothering to hide her wince.
"Will said you were quite the cowgirl. Born to the saddle, I believe were the exact words he used."
Anne couldn't prevent a small trill of pleasure. She'd worked hard to stay seated on her frisky mare. It pleased her that Will had noticed. She hadn't been able to take her eyes off him, either. She'd watched his muscles play under his white shirt. His lean butt molded to the saddle. His hands on the reins, and, later, dripping with icy water when he handed her a drink.
God, she was going to miss his touch. His smile. His presence.
"I have to go, A.J.," Anne said before thoughts of Will could make her change her mind. "My boss called me this morning on my cell phone. He said he needs me in the office as soon as possible."
A.J. didn't say anything for a minute. He drank his coffee and let the awakening sounds of the ranch flow between them. This was Anne's favorite time of day. The dew made everything sparkly--even the fresh cow pies that provided fodder for the little birds that seemed to inhabit every tree and bush.
"I can't say as I'm surprised, Annie," he said, catching her daydreaming. "I was thinking about what to say to you all the way across Colorado, and I finally came to the conclusion that you're a grown woman. You oughta know your own mind."
Yeah, well, maybe. Or maybe not.
"I imagine you're anxious to get back to the city, but I have a favor to ask." He shrugged. "I know I used up a lot of favors this summer, but this one would mean a lot to me."
Anne swallowed noisily. "What is it?"
"I was hoping you might let Zoey stay a bit longer. I promise to get her back to you before school starts, but one thing I discovered on my trip was how much I miss being a grandpa. That little girl was always on my mind--she reminds me a lot of Esther."
"She does?"
A.J. nodded, his eyes misty. "Although I hope she doesn't drive like her grandma. Esther had a bit of a lead foot, you know."
"That's right," Anne said, stifling a few tears of her own. "She knew all the highway patrol officers by their first names, didn't she?"
A.J. winked. "Three or four of 'em came to her funeral. She'd have been so pleased."
Anne's mind raced. Do I dare leave Zoey here? Joy will have her hands full combining office duties with the kitchen chores. And what about Will? How much longer will he be around to help?
She took a deep breath. They hadn't talked about what happened in Maine. He spoke before she could ask.
"It was peaceful, Annie."
Anne reached out and covered his wrist with her hand. "It must have been really difficult. I'm not sure I could have done it."
He sniffed and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. "Now, that's where I disagree. From what I've heard and seen since I got back, I'd have to say there isn't much of anything that you can't accomplish once you set your mind to it."
In business, maybe. Too bad my personal life isn't that simple. "A.J., I don't know how to say this. Will and I have grown close this summer. We care for each other but our worlds aren't mutually compatible."
As if on cue, Will crossed the compound toward the barn, apparently unaware of their presence. Anne tried to picture her life without him in it. To her dismay, she couldn't even bring to mind an image of her apartment. Her building. Her street.
A.J.'s lack of surprise made her ask. "Will told you about us, didn't he?"
"Didn't have to. His feelings for you are pretty easy to spot, but he did ask me for advice."
"What did...? No, that's between you and Will. It doesn't matter, anyway. I heard the message Joy took from the team doctor.” Will's initial look of surprise--and she was certain glee--when Joy said the words back on the circuit, had plagued her dreams--and strengthened Anne's resolve. "If I do leave Zoey here, A.J., you have to promise not to take her to the bull riding. I hate to think what would happen if Will got hurt right in front of her."
"You have my word that if my grandson rides in the Labor Day Buck-Off, me and Zoey will be right here."
"Thank you," she said, starting to rise. "I guess I'd better tell Zoey the good news. I know she'll be thrilled. And, in all honesty, staying here will be better for her. August in the city is particularly bad for allergies. The smog, the heat--"
Anne's words were drowned out by a loud, high-pitched squeal. "Grandpa," Zoey cried, bursting out the door and down the steps. "Did you get a new battery for my car? Can I drive it now?"
A.J. gave Anne a wry smile as he rose. "A promise is a promise."
/> Anne agreed. She'd promised her boss to return at the end of summer, and she was going to fulfill her vow. Even if it meant saying goodbye to everything--and everyone--she loved.
Will could honestly say he'd never seen a person as happy as Zoey was the minute she got behind the wheel of her miniature car. Her mother was understandably not quite as pleased.
"Now, take it slow, Miss Z," Will said sternly. It was hard to be strict when Zoey was beaming like a hundred-watt bulb.
"I will. I promise. And thank you again for fixing the batt'ry"
To A.J.'s delight, the battery hadn't been faulty, just in need of a charge. Will had solved the problem last night after he washed and waxed the little pink vehicle. Following his talk with his grandfather, Will had been too keyed up to sleep.
He squatted beside the car to give Zoey one last check. "Brake with this foot," he said, tickling her right knee.
She giggled. "I know. I know."
"Did you take a hit on your puffer thing?" Her cheeks were twice as florid as her car.
Zoey looked up at her mother, who was standing about a foot away. "I did. Really. And I took my medicine this morning. I didn't like those doctors at the clinic. I'm going to stay healthy so I don't have to go back."
"Good," Anne said. "That means no broken bones, either."
Will had seen Anne talking with A.J. under the tree a short while earlier and guessed they were discussing her plans. So far, nothing had been said about her intentions, probably to keep Zoey from getting upset.
"All right, then. Let's get this show on the road." He stood up and waved his hat back and forth, a signal to the men stationed at the far end of the circle. No traffic would be allowed in when Zoey was behind the wheel.
"Okay, sweetness, let 'er rip."
Zoey adjusted the chin strap on her riding helmet. It wasn't as safe as the crash helmet he planned to buy, but it would work for today.
"Don't hit any homeless people or wine bottles," Anne said, giving Zoey a quick hug.
Will gave Anne a questioning look, but her explanation was muffled by the high-pitched whine of the tiny engine, which was so loud, it nearly muffled Zoey's shriek of delight. "Whee..."
Anne stepped to Will's side and grabbed his arm with a death grip. "What if she crashes?"
"We've got hay bales anywhere even remotely dangerous."
"I'm neurotic, aren't I?"
"You're her mother. It's allowed."
The car shot past going a whopping ten miles an hour. Will knew that was fast enough to cause injuries if the car crashed or rolled over, but with each revolution, Zoey seemed to acquire more control.
The adults all moved to the porch to watch from comfortable chairs.
"Are you going to forgive me for buying it, Annie?" A.J. asked.
"Of course," she said, giving him a hug. "But I want your promise you won't let her let drive it without this kind of supervision when I'm gone."
"Gone?" Will asked, looking from A.J. to Anne.
A.J. gave Anne a light peck on the cheek. "Joy and I will keep an eye on things out here. You two had best take your talk inside."
Will suddenly knew what this "talk" was going to be about. No way was it going to be on Anne's turf, he decided. He grabbed her hand. "Nope. It's too nice a day to be inside. Gramps, I'll have my cell phone if you need to reach either of us."
Anne balked momentarily then sighed. "Okay."
She followed him to the garage and climbed into the Forerunner without a word. As Will had predicted, his truck had sold in less than forty-eight hours, to a nineteen-year-old motocross biker who loved the color. "It's a statement, man."
Will agreed. A statement that no longer represented his life.
"Where are we going?" she asked when they reached the highway.
"To the top of the ridge."
"Is it bumpy?"
"Some. Why?"
She moved gingerly in the seat. "I can still feel my horseback ride."
Will bit back a grin. "If you rode more often, that wouldn't be a problem. Once every ten years or so won't cut it."
"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind when I'm back in New York," she said, effectively wiping the smile off Will's face.
Neither spoke again until he turned onto the little-used fire trail.
"Are you sure you know where you're going?"
"Absolutely. How 'bout you?"
She huffed and grabbed the overhead handgrip to keep from getting jostled about by the rutted road. When they reached a clearing, Will parked under the scanty shade of a pine. He got out and hurried around to open Anne's door.
"There's a lookout just beyond those trees," he said, helping her down. In such proximity, her scent was unavoidable. It filled his senses and triggered a need so great it took every bit of willpower he had not to haul her into his arms and beg her to stay, to marry him, to grow old with him on the Silver Rose. But his sense of self-preservation was stronger. He couldn't put his heart on the line until he knew for certain whether or not he stood a chance.
The wind was hot and gritty. While not the prettiest vista in the state, it was the panorama he wanted. He pointed to a little group of buildings nestled in a clearing midway between them and the flat, silvery imprint of the valley. "There's the Silver Rose."
"It looks like a small village."
"That's what it is. And you know that saying about needing a village to help raise a child, right?"
She sighed. "Is that why you brought me here? To talk about Zoey?"
"Partly."
Her green eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms in a defensive posture. "Well, don't bother. I know what a difference this summer has made in my daughter's life. She's stronger, more self-assured, braver, happier--even healthier--than she was at the beginning of the summer. And I have you, A.J., Joy and all the people she's met this summer to thank for this transformation. But, the fact remains that my life is in New York, Will. My job is there. My future."
The words cut with surgical precision. "When are you leaving?"
"Tomorrow, if I can get a flight. Tuesday at the latest."
"I have a doctor's appointment in Reno on Tuesday."
"I know. Ironic, isn't it? You get a call from the person who holds your future in his hands, and the next morning my boss calls to say it's crunch time. Either I get back ASAP or he gives the position to someone else."
Will heard the underlying edge in her voice. He knew what she was feeling. Fear. Panic. The unnerving sense that everything you had worked for was sliding further and further out of reach. He felt the same thing this very moment.
She reached out to touch his arm. "Will, I did a lot of soul-searching this past week, and I know myself well enough to understand that I need the validation this promotion will give me. It's my payoff. After everything I've sacrificed to get here, I can't just walk away. And I apologize for acting so smug and judgmental. You have every right to follow your dream, no matter how great the risk."
What if the dream has changed?
"Thanks," he said. Three months ago he'd felt exactly the same. Now he knew there was more than one kind of winning. But he wasn't a chauvinistic hypocrite. If Anne needed to play the game to the end, he'd cheer her on, even if his heart was shattered.
"So, you and Zoey are flying back to the big city, huh?"
"Actually," she said, her gaze following a red-tailed hawk soaring on the warm updrafts, "A.J. asked if Zoey could stay a while longer. Her return ticket is for the sixth of September. I thought I might let her stay." She blinked suddenly and looked at him. "Is that okay? Do you mind? I'm going to be busy playing catch-up, and the air quality is so bad in the city."
Mind? His heart took flight with the hawk and a shiver of hope coursed through him. Anne didn't seem to understand that she'd just given him the greatest gift of all. Her trust. “Hell, no, I don't mind. I was afraid she might try to drive back in that little pink car if you didn't give her some time to get tired of it."
Her smil
e was the one he loved best--unguarded and playful. He took her in his arms and kissed her. Anne was leaving, but she'd entrusted her precious daughter into his care. That had to mean something, didn't it?
Chapter 14
Three weeks in Manhattan had done nothing to improve Anne's outlook on life. Each morning she awoke with a voracious craving in the pit of her stomach, the kind of hunger food couldn't appease. By the end of the first week, the bags under her eyes were a clear indicator that she'd made a mistake in returning to the city.
Sheer stubbornness and a sense of loyalty to Roger made her get up each morning, shower, pick a suit from the wide array that clogged her closet, then leave for work, swiping her Metro card through the metal turnstile, jostling among impatient strangers, dodging fume-spewing buses and honking taxis.
In the WHC office, Roger seemed to be the only person in the office who even remembered who she was. Several young junior executives who hadn't been around when Anne left seemed openly hostile and threatened by her return. In the rest room, she'd overheard one woman refer to Anne as "Roger's precious cowgirl."
Heaving a long, weary sigh, Anne rocked forward in her desk chair and dialed a number. Tucking the receiver between her shoulder and her ear, she undid the button of her DKNY jacket so she could reach the waistband of her suit. Too many of Joy's cinnamon rolls. The thought made her mouth water.
Her slight groan of relief when the zipper gave coincided with the distinctly formal, "Hello?"
Maria. Their former housekeeper/nanny. Anne had put off calling her. "Maria, it's Anne Fraser. I'm back in town and lining up child care for Zoey. Are you available?"
While Maria explained that she had decided to take a permanent position with her new employer, Anne took a sip of lukewarm Earl Great Tea from her "I Love My Mommy" mug. The queasiness that had accompanied her the whole flight back returned. What am I going to do now?
Anne wished Maria all the best and hung up. Zoey was scheduled to return in a little over a week, and Anne hadn't even started looking for a nanny--maybe because she had discovered this summer that she was the best child-care provider for her daughter.
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