by Linda Warren
“That’s what my dad said, but he doesn’t have the tools.”
“We have them at the ranch. I’ll be back later.” He put his hat on and headed for the door.
“Rico, what are you doing?” He couldn’t just waltz in here and take over. She had some pride. But then, she really needed help and she couldn’t afford to be choosy.
He turned back. “I told you I would fix this for you and that’s what I’m going to do.” On that note, he went through the door.
She stared after him not knowing what to make of this visit. Mickey barked and she glanced down at him. “What do you think? Is this his way of saying he’s sorry?”
Mickey barked again.
“Yeah,” she murmured to herself. Rico had a hard time verbalizing deep emotions so she wouldn’t press him for the words...just yet. He was here and that was the first step in his healing. And as the saying goes, she wasn’t going to look this gift horse in the mouth. She would accept it and somewhere along the way maybe they could talk about their feelings.
And Dusty.
* * *
RICO DIDN’T KNOW what he was doing. He’d gone into town to buy groceries and he saw her SUV parked in front of her shop and he’d pulled in beside it for some reason still unknown to him. Maybe it was Egan urging him to talk, but talk was the last thing he wanted to do.
He called Falcon and told him he was taking tools from the tool shed and, as always, he said it was fine. He also told him he was taking tomorrow off. Again he said it was okay. To take all the time he needed. Sometimes the Rebels were just too nice. But he’d worked many hours for each of them and he supposed that’s what families did for each other.
He gathered up everything he needed and headed back to town. He stopped at the hardware store to buy masonry screws. When he reached the shop, he gathered power tools and drills and his toolbox. His arms were full and he couldn’t open the door. Then he saw her sitting cross-legged against the wall with Mickey and a laptop in her lap. He paused for a moment to stare at her.
In the empty space she looked so alone sitting there with her thoughts turned inward and for the first time the wall he built around himself pressed into his chest. He’d hurt her and he hadn’t meant to do that. So much pain had sidetracked him and he was still caught in its web unable to let go. But staring at her a tremor hit his strong resolve, creating a crack in his solid steel armor.
He missed her, her smile, her positive attitude and energy she always put into everything she did. Were fiction and reality the same thing? Confusion clouded his head and he shook it away.
He would live in the moment and that was all he could do for now.
* * *
ANAMARIE WATCHED IN amazement as Rico brought in all kinds of power tools, two sawhorses, a tall ladder and some things she didn’t even know what they were. He tore the partial wall out in minutes and then he used chalk and measuring tape to mark where the new studs would go.
He anchored the studs along the bottom with a power tool and masonry screws. It was solid and tight to the concrete. He then put in the horizontal ceiling studs and marked where the parallel studs would go. It was like watching a master craftsman. He knew what he was doing. She handed him things when he asked for them and they worked on into the night. She turned on the florescent lights as the darkness moved in. At nine o’clock she decided to go to the diner to get them something to eat. Rico worked on.
They sat cross-legged on the concrete eating chicken-fried steak. She’d bought Mickey biscuits and gravy and she gave him part of her steak.
“You’re spoiling him,” Rico remarked.
“Yeah. I need to give him dog food every now and then.” They talked like casual strangers and not like two people who had been deeply in love.
“Did Wyatt get you?” She pushed the boundaries a little just to get his attention.
“No.” He continued to eat without looking up.
“He said he called you and you wouldn’t answer your phone.”
“I have nothing to say to Wyatt.”
So that’s how it was. Rico blamed Wyatt for not stepping in and doing something when they had taken Dusty. She pushed the boundaries a little more.
“He said Dusty is adjusting well.”
Rico stop eating, but he didn’t say anything.
“He’s five now. His birthday was in August. School has started and I wonder how he’s adjusting to a new school with so many children. It’s not Horseshoe.”
Rico got to his feet. “I’m not talking about Dusty.” His stern expression said case closed.
She let him get away with it this time, but they were going to talk and he was going to listen. Their future depended on it whether he would admit that or not.
* * *
SEPTEMBER ROLLED INTO October and Rico worked steadily on the shop. They worked together and it was like getting to know each other all over again. They only talked business and she didn’t bring up Dusty again.
Her dad stopped by and it was a tense moment. He glared at Rico. “I don’t like what you did to my daughter.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Rico said.
“Enough said.” He walked over to the wall. With one hand he pushed against a stud. “It’s sturdy now.”
“Yes, sir,” Rico replied. “I screwed it to the concrete.”
“Good deal. I’ll leave y’all to it.”
As her dad left, she smiled at Rico and a slight grin touched his lips. Her heart jumped at the transformation. It was like watching a seedling buried in the ground pop up reaching for the sky, reaching for air and sunshine to breathe, to live. It was a beautiful sight.
* * *
EVERY CHANCE RICO had he worked in the shop. The studs were all in and then Elias helped him with the wiring. It was old and needed to be replaced. Phoenix helped him with the plumbing. Jude helped him with the Sheetrock and Quincy came when he put in the insulation. The Rebels turned out in full force to help someone they loved. Ana hoped Rico saw that.
They made a trip to Home Depot to pick out cabinets. Anamaria had a vision inside her head of what she wanted and she was sticking to it.
“Pre-stained cabinets would work,” Rico said.
She looked at all the stained cabinets from off-white to black, but she kept coming back to the white ones. “I’d rather have white.”
“White? Why?”
“I wanted it to look weddingly.”
“Weddingly?” He was clearly confused. “Is that even a word?”
“Can’t you see it in your mind?”
“No.” He shook his head.
“It’s all white, sparkly and fairy-tale like.”
He groaned.
She poked him in the ribs. “I’m not kidding.”
He caught her hand and stared into her eyes and memories, beautiful loving memories, blindsided them. She couldn’t look away from the joy she saw blazing there, and it seemed neither could he.
“Do you need some help?” a young man asked and the moment floated away... temporarily.
Rico looked at the young man. “Yes, we’re going to take the weddingly cabinets.”
“Excuse me?” The man was puzzled.
They were laughing as they left the store and little by little Ana could see the sadness leaving Rico. She saw it earlier in his eyes, too.
There was hope and at this point it was all she needed.
* * *
IT WAS FALL roundup on the ranch and Rico was busy, but every afternoon after work he headed to the shop. He spent his days off there and they had supper every night together, sitting on the concrete floor talking. They fell back into an easy routine and it was what he needed to feel normal again.
The brothers continued to help him in the shop; even Falcon showed up to help him tape and float the walls. Egan and Bubba helped put in the cabinets. Th
ose weddingly cabinets. He smiled every time he thought of them. Paxton did the backsplash in the kitchen and Phoenix helped him build the big island in the center and the counter out front. Ana, her sisters, Peyton, Wyatt’s wife, and most of the Rebel wives had a painting party that included wine.
Rachel brought her art students in and they painted a mural in the party room. Then Remi, Paxton’s wife, brought her kindergarten class and they put their handprints on the wall with their name and the date.
As he watched the kids he realized that Dusty would’ve been in Remi’s kindergarten class and he would have been putting his handprint on the wall. For a moment he was frozen in place as the pain threatened to take him down again. Then he looked across the room and saw the sadness on Ana’s face. She was thinking the same thing. But unlike him she stepped forward with a pen and drew a handprint on the wall and wrote Dusty inside and the date. He couldn’t breathe for a moment and then she came to his side and he exhaled deeply, knowing she was his guiding light, his strength.
Maybe he wasn’t so strong, after all.
* * *
OCTOBER FADED INTO November and the shop was complete. Rico and Paxton had done a wonderful job with the oak floors and they looked beautiful. The whole place was beautiful, just as Anamarie had pictured in her head—all white and silver and weddingly. It had been a family affair.
It was late on a Saturday afternoon and the weather was cold and dreary. A freeze was predicted by morning. Rico was finishing up little things like putting knobs on the cabinets. She was waiting for a chance to bring up Dusty. The talk was long overdue. Before she could think of a way to segue into it, she tripped on a cord Rico had stretched from an electrical plug.
“Are you okay?” He lifted her to her feet.
“Yeah, just injured my pride a little.” She straightened her blouse as her cheeks burned with embarrassment.
“You’ve lost more weight.” For the first time he really looked at her.
She ran her hands down her hips. “I’m into a size ten jeans now.”
“I liked you better when you had curves.”
Before she could stop herself, she slapped his arm. “You don’t say that to a woman.”
“What?” He was clueless.
“You don’t tell a woman she looked better back then than she does now.”
“Oh.” The lightbulb finally went on. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Forget it.” She walked over and sat in the middle of the shop.
He unplugged the drill and wrapped the cord around it. “What are you doing?”
“Thinking and worrying if I can make a living out of making cakes.”
“It’s a little late to think about that.”
She stuck her tongue out at him.
He walked over and sat cross-legged in front of her. “Stop worrying. People from all over are going to be drawn to this place.” He glanced at the small white wicker sofa with white-and-green striped cushions, a matching chair and a coffee table with cake books on it. “Why are we sitting on the floor? There’s a sofa and a chair.”
“It just feels comfortable to sit on the floor with you. We’ve been doing that for weeks.”
“Yeah.” He glanced at the posters she’d put on the wall—posters of cakes she’d made. “Those are some amazing cakes.”
She didn’t want to talk about cakes. She had something much more important in mind. Scooting closer to him, she said, “I want to talk.”
He brought his eyes back to her. “Isn’t that what we’re doing?”
She scooted even closer. “I want to talk about Dusty.”
“I’m not talking about Dusty.”
He made to get up and she grabbed his hands. “No, Rico. It’s time to talk.”
He remained silent, staring at her hands locked on his. She searched for words, words he needed to hear and she prayed for the right ones.
“I don’t regret the time I spent with Dusty. He was a special little boy and he showed me that I could be a mother without giving birth. I could feel all those deep emotions that mothers have, and I loved him with all my heart. I’ll always be grateful for that. Up until Dusty, I thought I didn’t have those feelings anymore.”
Rico remained silent, and once again she would have to push boundaries that he’d erected and deal with the consequences. She scooted even closer until their knees were touching.
“Remember when we took him to the carnival and the bumper cars? He would shout ‘I got you, Ana’ and ‘I got you, Rico’ and then he would giggle uncontrollably. He had so much fun and it was a joy to watch him.”
Rico still remained silent.
“Remember when we took him to the park after his grandmother’s funeral? He was so sad, but soon he was laughing as I went with him up the slide and then down. He wanted to do it over and over again and his childish giggles washed away all the sadness.”
“And then he found the swings,” Rico said in a hoarse voice.
“Yes.” Rico was talking and she had to keep him talking.
“You ruined your beautiful black dress playing with him.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t ruin it because it helped brighten a little boy’s day. And yours, too.” He lifted his head and their eyes met. “You showed me I could be a woman and feel all those sensuous feelings I’d only heard about. You made me whole and complete in a way I thought I never would feel again. And those feelings had nothing to do with Dusty.”
“I know.” He suddenly cupped her face and pulled her to him. “I was blindsided by so much pain I couldn’t think straight and I did the one thing I swore I would never do. I hurt you.”
“I understood, Rico,” she said, breathing in the scent of him; heat, wood and a masculinity she associated with him. A scent that reminded her of their time together.
He rested his forehead against hers. “Everyone tells me I’m a strong person, but I couldn’t handle losing Dusty. I just wanted to run away from that little voice hollering at me for help and there was no way I could help him. I kept hearing ‘Rico, come get me’ and I ran from it. I spent days walking and running on Rebel Ranch in places I’ve never been before. I got lost a couple of times, but I kept going, trying to outrun Dusty’s voice. I’d let him down. I...”
“No!” She stroked the hands on her face. “There was nothing you could do. If you hadn’t turned him over to Darlene, you would be in jail today. Rico, there was nothing you could do.”
“He wanted to stay with us,” he dragged out in a throaty voice.
“Dusty had been waiting a long time for his mother to get well and for her to come get him. Things got complicated with the fight in prison and Darlene signing over her maternal rights. We thought he would be our little boy and we gave him all the love we had. I don’t regret that and I know you don’t, either.”
“No.”
“We just didn’t know Darlene was still trying to get her kid back.”
“She played us,” he remarked with a touch of anger.
“But you kept Dusty out of foster care and you should be proud of that. I am. We gave him a home. A happy home. Now we have to let go. Rico, you have to let go of Dusty. He’s with his mother like he always planned. He’s happy and you have to be happy for him.”
“It’s hard.”
“I know, but we can’t have a future until you do.”
He reached for her then and pulled her on to his lap, burying his face in her neck.
“Let him go, Rico. Let Dusty go.”
A tremor ran through his strong body and she held him tightly as he grappled with his emotions. He was letting go.
“When Egan found me and we came home, I had this tightness in my chest, as if I couldn’t breathe. I shut everyone out, even Egan. I didn’t want to talk. I just wanted to live in the pain. The first day I came here I saw your car
and just stopped and came in. I don’t know why, but the moment I did I could breathe again. That’s why I came back and came back. With you I could breathe again and I found my way back from all the pain.”
“Oh, Rico.”
He lifted his head and brought his lips to hers in a gentle, touching kiss. Soon all the emotions they’d shared took over and the heat from their bodies welded them together. “I’ve missed you,” he breathed into her mouth. “I missed you so much.”
His lips trailed away and she rested her face against his. “I loved you back then and I love you even more now.”
“Ana...”
His phone buzzed, interrupting the moment. A second later her phone buzzed.
“Let’s ignore them,” she said.
“Okay.”
The phones buzzed again.
They looked at each other and smiled. She kissed him briefly. “You get yours and I’ll get mine and then we’ll turn them off.”
“Deal.”
She heard him say, “I’ll be right there.” Her heart sank.
She clicked on to talk to Margie and heard herself saying the same thing. “I’ll be right there.”
“That was Miss Kate,” he explained. “They’re having a meeting and waiting for me.”
“Do they usually have meetings?”
“About important things.”
“And they include you?”
“Yeah.” He had a sheepish grin.
“You’re more a part of that family than you realize.”
“Yeah. I’m slowly seeing that.”
She walked to him and placed her hands on his chest. “I have to go to the bakery and check out the stove. That thing is probably as old as I am and you have to jiggle the knob to turn it on. Margie had a hard time getting it to work this morning and now it won’t work at all. They’re getting ready to close for the day and Margie wants me to see if I can get it to work. She doesn’t want any problems on Monday morning.”