Читать книгу Reunited with the Cowboy - Carolyne Aarsen - Страница 11

Chapter Three

Heather sat down, her mind whirling as she tried to think. She had the job interview soon in Seattle, but now had no way of getting there.

She needed that job. Her shrunken bank account was a testament to how quickly she needed to get to work.

But she couldn’t get to the interview if she didn’t have a car. Her stomach roiled at the thought of the new charges she would have to put on a credit card she had finally cleared off.

Don’t look around the corner. Just do what comes next.

The words that had gotten her through the past few years of her life came back to her, but now, in the cozy warmth of her parents’ house, they seemed empty. Devoid of the comfort they usually brought her.

“So will you be able to stay until the bridal shower?” Keira asked.

It wasn’t too hard to see the sparkle in her eyes and hear the hope in her voice.

“I don’t have much choice,” Heather said, realizing how reluctant she sounded. She pinned a bright smile on her face, then glanced again at John, who was still watching her. He seemed as thrilled about the idea of her staying the extra time as she was.

“I better get going,” he said, setting his mug on the counter. “I’ll feed the cows, Monty. You stay and visit.”

Then he turned and left.

* * *

Heather watched him stride away, his broad shoulders giving him an air of control. He had changed since she’d last seen him, become more reserved. This was not the warm, loving John she remembered.

The distance between them was wider than Judith Basin County. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her. She had no intention of taking up where she and John had left off. Both of them had moved far away from that one happy time in her life.

You made your choice when you ignored his advice and went with Mitch to New York.

Past choices melded with present circumstances and she knew that her life was, to some degree, of her own making.

She dragged her attention back to her family, who were all watching her as if waiting to see what she was going to do next.

“I need to make another call,” she said. “Can I use the phone in the study?” she asked her father, needing some privacy.

“You go ahead, my dear,” he said, waving her on.

“And I should get going,” Keira said, getting up, as well. “I’ll be at my workshop,” she told Heather. “Come on by and we can make some shower plans.”

“Of course,” Heather said, thankful that her sister was happy with the situation. She turned to her father. “Are you okay to watch Adana?”

“Alice should be finished soon helping your mother get ready for the day. I think I can manage until then,” he said with a grin.

Heather returned his smile, then left. As she closed the door of her father’s office behind her, she shut off the sound of conversation that had started up again. She leaned against the door a moment, trying to suppress the panic slowly gaining momentum in her mind.

She couldn’t afford a huge repair bill. She couldn’t afford to be late for this interview.

She stopped herself. Don’t borrow trouble, her father always used to say. So she sat in his large leather chair and with trembling fingers pulled up the information from her cell phone, then made the call.

Very quickly she was put through to Michelle Pearson, the manager she hoped to be working for.

“Good morning, Michelle,” Heather said, pulling out her “so happy to see you” attitude and hoping that would generate a positive tone in her voice. In previous conversations they’d chatted about the industry, traded small talk, discussed fashion trends, but right now she just wanted to cut to the heart of the matter. “I’m sorry to tell you that I had an accident. I’m fine but my car isn’t. And it won’t be fixed in time for me to arrive in Seattle when I said I would.”

“Oh. I see.” The silence that followed that comment held a heaviness that weighed on Heather. “That changes things. We needed someone quite soon. And we interviewed our second prospect yesterday. My partner was very excited about her, so if you can’t come for a week, we may hire her instead.”

Disappointment sat like a rock in Heather’s stomach. She wanted to protest that they should at least give her a try, but how could she when she couldn’t make the scheduled interview?

“We will, of course, reimburse your travel expenses,” Michelle added. “Just send me the details of your mileage and associated costs and we can cover those for you.”

That was a help, but not much. “Thanks. I’ll do that,” Heather managed to choke out, feeling the usual burst of shame at the thought that she would probably follow through on collecting even that small amount of money. “And thank you for the opportunity.”

“If anything comes up that we think you would be suited for, we’ll give you a call,” Michelle said brightly, but Heather suspected her promise was more polite than actual. “As a former model, you have a view on the industry that I’m sure we could utilize sometime.”

Former model. All part of a very ragged résumé.

Former barrel racer. Former college student. Former wife.

Heather said a polite goodbye, hung up the phone and leaned back in her father’s chair, turning it to face the window, giving herself a moment to pull together the tatters of her life. From here she could look out over the summer pasture and then to the hills beyond, rolling up to the mountains that edged the basin. She had ridden those hills with Keira, Lee and John, and knew most every knoll, valley and crevice. The life she’d lived here was like a wash of light in the darkness of her years with an abusive natural mother and her time with Mitch.

Help me, Lord.

The prayer spilled out of her as she swung back and forth in the chair. Then she caught her sad reflection in the office window. She lifted her chin and pushed herself erect. Though she wasn’t born one, she’d been raised a Bannister. Life didn’t push a Bannister down.

As she stood, she caught sight of John walking across the yard. Once again she felt the regrets of the past slip into the present.

If only she hadn’t gone away to school. If only she’d listened to him. If only she hadn’t broken up with him. If only she had told him the truth about why she’d wanted to work for Mitch.

As if he sensed her thoughts, John looked back over his shoulder at the house. Heather lifted her hand to touch the window as if to make a connection with him.

Then he seemed to shake his head, shove his hands in his pockets and keep walking.

Heather squared her own shoulders and turned away from the window. She had other things to deal with.

When she came back to the dining room, she walked over to where her mother sat.

“How are you feeling?” Heather asked her as she bent over to give her a kiss.

“Much better. I slept well.”

“I’m so glad.” Heather glanced over at Alice. “And good morning to you, Alice,” she said to the older woman, sitting with a cup of coffee in front of her, feeding Adana bits of her muffin. “Good to see you again.”

“Welcome home. I was sorry to hear about your car, but glad that you’re okay.”

“Thank you,” was all Heather said. She liked Alice well enough, but had never felt entirely comfortable around her. Alice had told her often how lucky she was to be taken in by the Bannisters, and had subtly reminded her of the debt she owed this family.

“Were you able to reschedule the interview?” her mother asked with an optimism Heather wished she could channel.

“No. They decided to hire someone else.”

“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.” The disappointment in her voice only seemed to add to Heather’s sense of failure.

“There’ll be other work,” she said, pasting on the same smile that she used when she was working the cameras, trying to look excited to be wearing a bathing suit while a chilly wind blew.

“I understand from your mother that you’ll be around the ranch for a few weeks,” Alice said, cradling her cup of coffee in her hands, lifting one eyebrow as if in query.

“I’m here until my car is fixed,” Heather said, going to pour herself another cup of coffee. And while she was here, she would be sending out her résumé to whoever she could.

“That could work out well for me,” Alice continued. “I just got a call from my aunt this morning. She’s not been feeling well. If you’re going to be here, I could visit her. Your mother is still fragile and I wouldn’t feel right leaving her and Adana alone. Keira is busy with her work and wedding plans, so I don’t think it would be fair to ask her.”

Heather sneaked a quick glance toward Adana, who was noisily sucking back a sippy cup of milk. She put her cup down and grinned, showing her tiny top teeth. “Hi, Hevver,” she said.

Heather’s heart warmed at the sound of the little girl saying her name. Obviously she was as smart as her mother.

“If it doesn’t work, I can reschedule...” As Alice’s sentence trailed off, Heather guessed the woman sensed her hesitation.

“Or we could find somebody else,” Ellen said.

Heather caught her mother’s rueful smile and hastily put her hand on her arm, hoping and praying that her mom didn’t think her lack of enthusiasm had anything to do with her.

“Of course I can help out today,” Heather quickly said, giving her a reassuring look. She was free for the next few days. The least she could do was help where she was needed.

“That’s wonderful,” Alice said, sounding relieved. “Would you mind terribly if I left right away?”

So soon?

“Sure. That’d be fine,” Heather said with a confidence she certainly didn’t feel. “Just tell me what I need to do for my mother, and I’m sure I can figure out what to do with Adana. How hard can it be to take care of a toddler?”

“Not hard at all. She’s a little sweetheart,” Ellen said, reaching over and tucking Adana’s bib under her chin.

The child banged her cup on her tray table, then looked at the gathered women, as if sensing the conversation was about her. She gurgled in pleasure at the attention, happily oblivious to the gnawing pain in Heather’s soul that her very presence created.

It’s just for today, Heather told herself. She could handle it for one day.

* * *

“You’re good to go,” John called out to Monty as he pushed on the fence tightener.

Down the fence line, he could see the rancher swinging his hammer, pounding in the staples on the barbed wire that John had just pulled taut.

They had been busy all afternoon, wading through mud, the occasional snowdrift and sometimes walking on bare ground, working their way down the fence toward the home place, getting the calving area ready. In a month they would be busy, calving out cows. The sun beating down on John’s back was a promise of the warmer weather coming.

Soon, he thought, pounding the last nail on his end and pulling off the tightener. He glanced up at the hills, which were already bare of snow, and across the pasture, where only a few drifts leftover from the last storm lay stranded against fence and tree lines.

He dropped the hammer in his pail of tools and lifted it off the ground. In only a few days, the drifts had receded substantially, leaving mud in their wake.

On Saturday they had to process the cows and give them their precalving shots. He wasn’t looking forward to herding them through all this dirt.

“So, we done with this?” Monty called out as he strode toward him.

“That was the last of it,” John said.

“Good. I’ll head over to the corrals and check them once more before we have to run all the cows through.” He nodded toward the house. “You just take a moment to say hi to your little girl.”

A high-pitched squeal of laughter caught John’s attention and his smile grew.

But when he turned, he frowned at what he saw. Heather was pulling a high-sided wagon. Adana sat inside, leaning over the edge, staring at the ground rolling past her as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

His eyes reluctantly touched on Heather, who was looking everywhere but at him. She had put a down vest over her shirt, a concession to the brisk spring weather.

Though she still looked as if she was heading to a fashion shoot, the down-home clothes were a reminder of happier times. When they would go out riding. When he would watch her run barrels, timing her and coaching her.

He shook his head, as if to dislodge the errant memories he wouldn’t allow himself to indulge in.

“Where’s Alice?” he asked. He set the pail down and halfheartedly walked toward them. They met halfway between the pens and the house, the tapping of Monty’s hammer echoing over the yard.

“Daddy, ride,” Adana called out, reaching for him. He picked her up, settling her against his hip.

“She left this morning to visit her aunt,” Heather said. “She asked me to help out with Adana while she was gone.”

John narrowed his eyes at the thought of Heather taking care of his daughter. “Just for today?”

“It’s fine. I...I can manage. I’m not familiar with kids, mind you...”

“I sensed that,” he stated, holding Adana a little closer. She laid her head against him, as she often did when she was tired or upset. Did she also feel Heather’s discomfort?

He felt the same overwhelming need to protect his daughter that he had felt when he’d brought her home from the hospital. He had made a promise to himself that he would protect her, take care of her and make up for all she had lost.

“That’s why I think I should take care of her,” he added.

“But you’re busy. I thought...I understood that’s why Alice and Mom look after her. So you can work?”

“I’ll figure a way around it.” He glanced down the fence line toward Monty.

Heather lifted her head, staring him down. “You don’t think I’m capable.”

In spite of the confrontational tone of her voice, he caught a glimpse of hurt in her features. His resolve wavered a moment, but then he felt the warmth of Adana’s head against his neck.

“It’s not how capable you are. It’s how willing you are.” He sighed for a moment, then continued. “Like I said, I sensed that you’re not comfortable around her. I don’t want my daughter to feel like she’s unwanted.”

Heather couldn’t hold his gaze. Her eyes, with those impossibly long lashes, lowered protectively. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know how it looks. It’s just...she reminds me...” She stopped there, her hands twisting together.

She seemed genuinely upset.

“Reminds you of...” he prodded.

She bit her lip, shook her head, then slowly, almost reluctantly, looked up. He caught the faintest shimmer of tears in her eyes. “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “Adana is a sweet little girl and I don’t mind taking care of her.”

But John couldn’t ignore the brief glimpse of sorrow in her eyes and in her voice. Older emotions sifted into the moment and he thought of her upbringing. “Is this because of your mother?”

She frowned and he realized he’d barked up the wrong tree.

“No. Nothing to do with her.” She waved off his comment with one hand. But that didn’t erase his curiosity. There was more to this than she was letting on.

“I can take care of her,” Heather said, reaching out for his daughter. “I know you and Dad have a lot of work to do before calving.”

Still John hesitated, glancing from Heather to Monty. He had to be realistic. He couldn’t take care of his daughter today.

Then Adana made up his mind for him. She patted him on the cheek with one chubby hand, as if to reassure him, then stretched her arms out toward Heather, her fingers clenching and unclenching.

“Pwease. Go for wide.”

John shifted to accommodate Adana’s sudden movement, then reluctantly let Heather take her out of his arms. Somehow, in spite of the woman’s hesitation around his daughter, Adana seemed to connect with her.

Heather held her for a moment, looking down at her. The tiny quiver of her lips was the faintest tell, raising a host of other questions. There was more to this than mere discomfort around children. There was real pain in her eyes.

But as Monty called out to him again, John knew this wasn’t the time or place to find out.

Besides, he didn’t have the right to pry into her personal life, he reminded himself as he watched her gently place Adana back in the wagon. He had to keep her at a distance. He had plans for his life, and she would only complicate them.

She gave him a forced smile that he sensed was more for show than anything, then picked up the wagon handle and walked past him.

He didn’t plan to watch her leave, but couldn’t keep his eyes from following her slim form, her blond hair flowing down her back, glistening in the sun as she headed toward Keira’s workshop.

Monty walked over to find out what the delay was. “Everything okay?” he asked John, glancing from him to Heather.

“Yeah. Heather is taking care of Adana. She just brought her by to say hi.”

John saw Monty watching him, his eyes intent.

They were both quiet a moment, as if measuring each other.

“Heather hasn’t told us much about her life in New York, but her mother and I sense she’s had a tough go the past few years,” the older man said quietly, folding his arms over his chest, his eyes slipping back to Heather. “Mitch wasn’t good for her. She’s a very wounded soul.”

John sensed a warning in Monty’s voice, and wanted to remind him that he had tried to tell Heather not to go with Mitch to New York. Not to believe the promises he had made her.

But he kept his comments to himself, aware of how precarious his current situation was. Even though Heather had been the one to break up with him, his love for her had never been a secret on the Bannister ranch. When Mitch had come to Saddlebank the first time and swept Heather off her feet, Monty had been the one to commiserate with John.

Now, it seemed, he was obliquely warning him to keep his distance.

“If that’s the case, Heather will need this time with your family to recuperate before she moves on,” John said. “And I wish her only the best in everything she does.” He met and held Monty’s gaze. “As for me, I have Adana to take care of right now.”

The rancher smiled carefully and nodded. “Of course you do.” He shifted his hammer from one hand to the other. “I guess we should get this fence fixed before the day slips away from us.”

He walked away. But in spite of Monty’s warnings, John couldn’t prevent another glance over his shoulder to where Heather had stopped and was lifting Adana out of the wagon.

Their eyes met across the yard and once again John felt as if time had wheeled backward. His foolish heart gave a thump.

He had to focus on Adana.

His and Sandy’s daughter, he reminded himself. A woman who was faithful and true.

And uncomplicated.