Return To Big Sky

by Jade Cary

  Making Amends

  I undressed and replayed the events that led up to the humbled attitude I sported now. A knot formed in my stomach and an ache settled in my chest, right where my heart belonged.

  I got into the shower and let the hot water wash away the smell of horse, along with a little shame and humiliation; I thought things over.

  I’d been dismissive.

  I’d been cavalier.

  I’d been rude.

  I’d been disrespectful.

  Jed said it best, and not so eloquently: I knew Carlos, the circumstances of his life, of my father’s life, of Maria’s, and I knew all these things better than anyone else. Even Jed, who, God bless him, had stayed. I’d behaved like a perfect shrew when all I needed to do was acknowledge, rightfully so, that my actions could have used a little more planning and thought. Instead, I accused Jed, and Carlos’s own mother, of not knowing him. I dismissed their concern as hand wringing. And I’d told the man I loved to shut up.

  I needed a do-over. Bad.

  I exited the shower, dried off and grabbed the white terrycloth robe off the edge of the tub. I was still tying the sash when I opened the door and bumped right into my brother.

  “Oh! Oh, you scared me,” I said, grabbing his upper arms to steady me before I fell on top of him. He’d changed into another outfit in what I was learning was his usual attire of monochrome colors that matched exactly: gray jeans, gray cotton shirt with pearl snaps. Yesterday he was in blue. Tomorrow he could be The Man in Black. This was my brother.

  “I like this,” he said, holding up a crystal horseshoe.

  “Thank you. I do, too.”

  “What is it?”

  I took a deep breath as my heart slowed. “It’s a first place award I won in a competition called Western Pleasure. I won it with that old girl there, in that picture.” I pointed to the picture of me atop Gwendolyn.

  “W—W—West…”

  “Western Pleasure. It’s a competition for the horse with the best manners and handling, in other words, ‘pleasurable to ride’. Gwendolyn was that. She was all that.”

  “I like her. Where is she now?”

  “She got sick, Charlie. We had to put her down after that competition.”

  “No one lets me come in here.”

  I smiled at him. “Honey, come sit down.” I led him to my bed and we both sat. “I don’t mind if you come in, but you must knock. Do you understand? Never come into a lady’s room without being invited.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s how a gentleman behaves.”

  He blinked twice as the realization of what he’d done registered. “You were in the shower.”

  “I was,” I smiled.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  He looked around the room. “Were you sad your horse died?”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded, not meeting my eyes.

  “It was a along time ago,” I added.

  “Jed left in the truck. I think he’s mad at me.”

  “No, honey. He’s mad at me. Listen, Charlie…I was wrong today, taking you off like that without telling anyone, and without taking radios with us.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Your mom, and Jed, both deserve to know where we are.”

  “Why?”

  I closed my eyes and suppressed a grin. This, too, was my brother. “Because they love us and care about us, and they want us to be safe. It’s as simple as that. So, you don’t wander off without telling anyone, okay…and I’ll remember to do the same.”

  “It was fun, though.”

  “It was. Maybe we’ll go fishing tomorrow, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” he smiled back. “I like this.” He had the crystal horseshoe in his hands.

  “You know, I’m kind of looking to make some room in here for other stuff, so maybe you can, you know…” I gestured to the object. “If you wouldn’t mind…”

  “I know! I can keep it with me!”

  “That’s a great idea, Charlie.”

  “I can keep it in my room. I’ll show you where.”

  “Get out of here and let me get dressed. I’ll see you in a bit. I need to talk to your mom, and to Jed.”

  “Okay.” He stood, pecked me quickly on the cheek, and scurried out.

  I was in love. My God, I was in love with that exceptional young man, my brother. My heart swelled in his presence. I blessed my father for this gift, like he knew this was just what I needed to feel human again.

  “I am sorry.”

  I sat at the large farmhouse table in the kitchen, the smell of baking chilies, cheese and sauce filling the room. Despite the hominess—the warmth that filled the room, thanks to Maria’s cooking, the fire in the fireplace, and Maria herself—I was chilled.

  She sat at the head of the table near the stove. In a soft pair of jeans, black tank and flannel shirt, I seemed to blend into the house, into the land, and a fine exhaustion enveloped me despite the shower. She, resplendent in brown pants and tunic in a suede-looking material that made her look like an ethereal hippie, cast her gaze on me with the same love and forgiveness she had always graced me with, even at my worst.

  “I have behaved like a shrew. Can you forgive me?”

  “Darling, of course.” Maria reached across the table and I took her hand. “Please understand: I know what my son can do, and what he thinks he can do, and what your father thought he could do. The bottom line is, I am scared. I worry. I had him off horses and on to other things because he can’t fall off books, or video games…”

  “Oh, Maria.” I clutched at my heart and wanted to launch into a whole ‘The trouble with kids today’ tirade. I’d said enough; I had enough to atone for. “You are a good horsewoman. I don’t understand.”

  “Mija, I am scared. It’s one thing when I’m on a horse. He falls off…”

  “Having never been scared of anything in my life, I’m trying to understand.”

  “You have not had children.”

  “Well, you’re not the first person to mention that. Can I help? Can I please help you not be so scared?” Maria held out her hands in supplication, her eyes denying me outright. “Please, Maria. Please. Don’t deny him this because of your own fears. It isn’t fair.”

  “Oh, darling…”

  “Charlie is so good when he is up on that horse. If you could hear him…he is like a different kid. His words and thoughts are clear, and he knows what he is doing. If Daddy taught Carlos, then he was taught well, and you know that. You should ride with us.”

  She smiled. “Well, that would solve a few issues, then, eh?”

  “Look, what I saw, what I heard in those few hours…” So many ideas were swirling in my head, none of them worth a damn until I got the boy’s mother on board. “I don’t know him. Jed was right. I have no idea. I’m not an expert on kids or his issues. I’m grasping here; I know it. But, like with that horse out there…” I waved my hand in the general direction of the corral where the Azteca ate hay and pawed at the ground. “I have a feeling about Carlos, what happens to him on that horse.” I sighed. “I have an idea, a proposal.”

  “Proposal?”

  “Yes. Jed told me you’d like me to buy Carlos out, buy the Culver…”

  “Mija…”

  “Just listen. It’s just a bunch of ideas in my head, and I don’t even know if it’s possible, but I’d like to use some land for a camp, or a rehabilitation facility for kids like Charlie. It doesn’t even have to be on the Culver. I’ve got 58,000 acres of land I have no idea what to do with. I don’t know—I don’t have it all thought out, but I’ve seen what animals can do for people—whether you’re elderly, or physically disabled, or even anxious. I’ve seen; I’ve heard; I’ve read. Doesn’t mean I know everything. I’d need advice. I’d need experts. I have the money and I have the land. So does Charlie.” I squeezed her hand. “Please don’t dismiss it out of hand, Madre. Let’s talk with Jed.”

  Maria was
silent for a long time, and then she nodded. “I suppose it will do no harm to hear you out.”

  I closed my eyes in gratitude. “Thank you. And please don’t get mad at that dear child. It was my fault that we took off like that. I want him to trust me. I want us to be able to do it again anytime he wants.”

  “I’m guessing you took enough scolding for both of you.”

  I nodded, barely.

  “Mija, look…you’ve been away for a long time. You will adjust. We all will.”

  “I’m hoping so,” I said.

  “He’s a good man, darling.”

  “I know.”

  “He cared for Carlos much the same as he cared for you all those years ago. He’s allowed a little emotion where my son is concerned.”

  “I understand.” I stood. “Jed made it quite clear that I still have a lot to learn. Now I need to go find him and make us right again. I don’t want this between us.”

  “Good thinking.”

  I chuckled. “Yes, once in a great while it works up here,” I said, tapping my temple.

  I Don’t Do Goodbyes

  Jed pulled up in the truck between the main house and the ranch manager’s while I was falling on my sword at Maria’s feet. Now it was time to do the same with Jed.

  I’m done here.

  Those words crushed me. I’d been at my worst the last few days, and I’d directed that behavior toward him more times than not. I was leaving soon, so why not? End things like this—on a very sour note.

  His raised voice bled through the door and the slightly open window off the front porch. The house sat a hundred yards from the main house up a slight incline and gave the ranch manager an unobstructed view of the property. Two green Adirondack chairs sat against the house with a table in between. I wondered how many guests Jed entertained up here, far enough away from the main house and ranch action that no one would hear, or see, a thing. I waited for a lull in the conversation before knocking.

  “Yeah!” he barked. I took it as permission to enter, figuring I had nothing more to lose. He was in agitated conversation with someone, and it went on another minute until he ended it by tossing the phone on the raised breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the living room. The plastic back and four batteries skittered across the granite surface.

  “What?” he snapped as he turned around. He dragged his hand through his hair and stared at me with weary eyes. “Chan…aw, babe, I’m sorry.”

  “Is there…is there something I can do?”

  “Not unless you want to drive to Tulsa to pick up my damn hay baler.”

  “I can do that.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat as his mouth curled into a grin.

  “It would take days and I don’t want to be without you that long.” He held out his arms. My chest ached and my eyes filled at the shame I felt, and all Jed had to do to open those floodgates was spread his arms to me. I flew into them and buried my face in his chest. Warm rain and spice invaded my senses, and in his embrace I felt like I was home.

  “I’m so sorry, Jed.”

  “I know. Shhhh.” With an arm around my shoulders and his hand laced into my hair, he rocked me gently in his arms. I’d regretted those words spoken in frustration and embarrassment the moment they left my mouth, but now I felt desolate.

  “I want to…to apologize for the way I spoke to you,” I said after I picked my head up. I felt the best way to conquer this was to look him in the eye and just say it.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

  “No, it isn’t. You didn’t deserve that. I was…I felt bad for worrying everyone, and I wasn’t thinking, and I felt, well…rather embarrassed and childish with it all, and so I, well…”

  “Lashed out?”

  “Yes. That’s what I did. Can you forgive me?”

  He looked up to the ceiling as if to mull it over. “Oh, I think so. You gonna be okay, though?”

  “I don’t know.” This was, of course, the wrong time to feel sorry for myself, yet here I was.

  “Well,” he said, “Putting you across my knee wouldn’t be out of line right now, and I find it alleviates guilt quite effectively. I’d be obliged to accommodate you, sweetheart. Say the word.”

  My stomach dropped to my feet and I dampened my panties, two reactions that disturbed me, frankly. “What are my other options?”

  “I could kiss you until you forget your own name.”

  “That’s better.”

  “I thought so. We’ll shelve the other for now.”

  “Whatever you think is best.”

  Jed chuckled as he pushed my hair off my face, cupped my cheek, and took a deep breath.

  “Pressure’s on, Ranch Hand.”

  “Hush now and let me get to it.” He lowered his mouth to mine and he kissed me. He kissed me like he owned me, kissed me like he invented the activity, kissed me like we were the only two in the world, and everything—life, death, love, remorse, agony, jubilation—rode on his mouth meeting mine. He bent me slightly back so that his head was above mine, so that he could maintain control over what he was doing. After all, I would be forgetting my own name soon.

  His tongue swept my mouth, warm and tender. He took his time. My breasts hardened, my womb clenched, and my knees went weak. I’d been horny for this man for over a week and this was not cooling me off one bit. He bolstered me up as he continued his wicked assault, and I hung on for dear life, one hand laced in his hair and his soft worn tee shirt fisted in the other. His hand slipped under my tank and rested warm against my waist. I’d forgone a bra in favor of after-the-sun-goes-down comfort, and as my breasts grew hard and strained against the ribbed black tank top, all I could think about was whether or not Jed would find such a thing too forward. I was burning up. I wanted to shed my clothes and climb him like a tree.

  He withdrew his tongue and caressed my lips with his as an exclamation point to the most exquisite kiss I had ever received, and then he released me. I stared at him, my mouth slightly open.

  “Who am I? Where am I?”

  Jed smiled. “See there?” He caressed my face and ran his thumb over the apple of my cheek. “Goddamn, look at you.”

  The world stopped. Nothing existed except this moment. “Jed…”

  “Baby…”

  My eyes glistened again. No man, ever, could pull emotion from me the way Jed Brooks could.

  “I want you in my bed, Chan.”

  I brought my hands to his face, my fingers sliding through his hair. I swallowed hard, suddenly shy. “I’d like that, too,” I whispered.

  He swept me off my feet and carried me into his bedroom. This was a scene in every dream I ever had about Jed Brooks. He kept his eyes glued to mine as he set me on my feet next to his bed. A patchwork quilt of red, brown and amber velvet lay tossed up over the bed pillows as if he’d made the bed in a hurry. The sun was setting and it streamed gold and pink through the large picture windows that looked out over the mountain range. I pushed my own flannel shirt off my shoulders and kicked off my moccasins. Then I went for his tee. He took my hands up in his.

  “Hold on. Slow down, baby.”

  “Jed, you don’t need to take care with me. This isn’t my first time.”

  “I know, but it’s mine—with you.” He reached behind me and pulled the quilt down. “Come here.” Jed sat on the bed and pulled me with him. He eased me onto my back across the bed. Hand at my face, he kissed me. He traced my lips with his tongue and then followed with his finger, then over the shell of my ear. He glided along my jaw, continued down my neck, traced the edge of my tank and left a burning trail on my skin. He caressed me like a blind man reads braille, silent and understanding of every nuance. I was overwhelmed. I’d never been handled with such care—not that I was a woman who needed such accommodations. I had imagined more than one first-time scenario with Jed Brooks, and none of them began this way.

  His hand went to my hip. He kissed across my chest and down my arm as he slipped his hand under the hem of my tank
top and rested his fingers against my belly. Caressing, tapping out a song in his head, whatever he was doing sent a delicious shiver up my body. My nipples strained and my bosom heaved. He exposed my belly and dropped feather kisses across my skin.

  “Warm,” he whispered, his breath tickling my skin.

  I smiled and brushed a tear away.

  “You smell so good. Your skin’s so soft.” He brushed his nose over my belly and set it to rest in my belly button. Lips on my skin, the tip of his tongue tasting me in little bits, like trying a new food for the first time.

  He pushed the tank higher, leaving it to rest under my breasts. He traced me with this mouth, his cheek, his fingers. I felt emotion well up inside me until it had nowhere to go.

  “Oh…” I put my hand over my mouth as tears spilled down my face.

  “Shhh…” He kissed along my rib cage, not misunderstanding this fucking Hallmark Moment that was so not me. He knew I wanted him, wanted this. He knew overwhelmed when he saw it. He picked his head up and met my eyes. He searched my eyes, my face, my soul. I nodded.

  He lifted the tank over my breasts and I raised my arms so he could pull it over my head.

  “Sweet buttery Jesus, babe.” He pulled me sideways across his lap, his fingers digging into my bottom, the other at the back of my neck. He kissed me. Fierce, urgent, needy, possessive, tender, learned.

  The teacher teaching.

  The man letting go.

  The woman coming home.

  I curled up, and he wrapped me in both arms and we kissed like old lovers. My fingers glided over his skin, and the smell of sandalwood and sage filled the room as if my touch freed a secret. My skin burned where his fingers grazed my breast, then glided along my waist. They dappled my skin like an étude or a newly learned sonata, my ribs the piano keys, my moans against his mouth in harmony with a tune of his creation. His mouth came down over the stiff peaks of my breasts, first one and then the other, and I pushed myself into him, urging him on, but he needed no coaxing, no permission. His tongue flicked out, teasing, his lips latched on and pulled, then his tongue soothed again. I felt his hand go to the front of my jeans, and the familiar pop pop pop of the buttons had me reeling in anticipation of his touch.