Читать книгу Back In The Saddle - Karen Templeton - Страница 9
ОглавлениеBy rights, Zach should’ve let his brother return the sunglasses to Dorelle. Except Josh—rightly—pointed out that Mallory’s mother would be far more likely to pay another visit to the clinic than Josh would get anywhere near where they lived on the other side of town. And since they didn’t look like some cheapo discount store things, Josh guessed she’d probably like them back.
Sure enough, the next day Dorelle called, asked if Josh had brought them by. So naturally Zach said he’d be glad to return them to her since she had no reason to bring the dog in at the moment. No, of course it wasn’t a problem.
So here he was, standing on the wooden-planked porch fronting the ranch-style house, set off far enough from the highway that the surrounding pinons and aspens easily swallowed up whatever traffic noise there might have been. It was real pretty out here, Zach had to admit, even though with two young boys and his practice he’d grown to appreciate the convenience of in-town living. Even if the town was Whispering Pines, where convenience was definitely in the eye of the beholder. Still—he turned, smiling at Benny watching the boys chase each other across a space far too large to be called a front yard—sometimes he missed living out in the country.
The front door—carved, huge, way overdone for the house—opened. In a dark green sweater that made her eyes go more hazel than gray, Mallory looked up at him, frowning. Zach lifted the sunglasses. She sighed.
“I swear, that woman loses more pairs of sunglasses. But you didn’t have to bring them. We could’ve picked them up the next time we were in town—”
“She asked.”
“Then I guess that explains the cookies.”
“Cookies?”
“Three kinds, last time I checked.” She leaned over to look past him. “And I take it the comets streaking across my yard are the boys?”
“They have two settings—warp speed and zonked out.”
Mallory chuckled, but her smile didn’t quite blossom full out. “Sounds familiar. Well, I suppose you may as well bring them in to eat the cookies. Because heaven knows I don’t need them—the chair makes my butt look big enough, thank you.”
Swallowing a grin, Zach turned and called. Panting and flush-faced, they ran over, the dog plodding slowly behind. Zach automatically started plucking bits of dried grass out of his youngest’s hair. “You guys remember Miss Keyes from yesterday?”
“Uh-huh,” they said in unison, doing the bobble-head thing as the dog finally finished the journey...and promptly planted his muddy front paws on Mallory’s lap and started to lick her face, his tail pumping a mile a minute.
“Benny!” Zach bellowed over Mallory’s shrieks and the boys’ explosion of giggles, grabbing the dog’s collar and tugging. Hard. Like trying to move a five-hundred-pound boulder. “Down!” With a mighty yank, he finally got the dog off Mallory’s lap. “And you two can stop right now,” he said to the boys. Who of course only laughed harder.
Mortified, Zach turned back to Mallory, busy wiping dog slobber off her cheek. He dug in his jacket pocket for a tissue. Which, with drippy-nosed boys, he always carried. Amazingly, it was actually clean.
“I’m so sorry!” he said, handing over the tissue and glaring at the completely unrepentant dog. “I had no idea he’d do that—”
“No worries,” she said, chuckling, mopping up the dog spit. “Come here, baby... No, it’s okay, don’t you pay any attention to the mean ol’ man...”
The dog gleefully obeyed her, wagging back to again get in her face, grinning his doggy grin and clearly enjoying the hell out of her fawning all over him. A moment later Dorelle appeared, bringing with her the scents of chocolate and brown sugar.
“Oh, I’m so glad y’all came!” she said, snatching the glasses from Zach. “Can they have some cookies?” She beamed down at the boys. “Right out of the oven, all gooey and warm.”
Two sets of pleading eyes swung to his, and Zach sighed. “Only a couple, they haven’t had dinner yet.”
“Got it,” Dorelle said, gathering the boys to her like a mama hen and herding them toward the kitchen. “Y’all like milk with your cookies? Or juice...?”
Zach returned his gaze to Mallory, her lap still full of blissful dog. “Um... I wasn’t actually planning on staying?”
“Meet my mother, the unstoppable force,” she said, gently pushing the dog down so Zach could come inside, into a spacious entryway flanked by a living area on one side, a formal dining room on the other. Not that he knew much about decorating, but the overall effect seemed more yard sale hodgepodge than designer-contrived. Or maybe that was the contrivance. “Oh, and by the way, Mama’s concept of a ‘couple’ probably does not jibe with yours.”
“That’s okay, neither does my mother’s.”
“And by ‘not planning on staying,’” she said, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at him, “was that you just trying to be polite? Or do you really have someplace else to be?”
“Would it make any difference?”
“To my mother? Not a lot, no.”
“And to you?”
Her eyebrows lifted. As did the corners of her mouth. “Far be it from me to detain a gentleman under false pretenses,” she said with a slight bow. “Or keep him against his will. Although I’m sure you know my mother probably didn’t leave those sunglasses behind on accident.”
Zach shoved his hands in his back pockets, unsure about how he felt by this turn of events. Unsure, period. “I did have my suspicions.”
Mallory glanced at the dog for a moment, then back up at Zach. “She’ll swear up one side and down the other she’s not trying to fix me up, but the woman lies like a rug.”
He smiled. “So I take it you’re not exactly on board with her plans?”
After a moment, she said, “The past five years haven’t exactly been a picnic. All I want is a little peace, you know? Some space where nothing’s happening. I am not looking for someone new in my life, believe me. At least not now.” Her lips curved. “And I suspect,” she said gently, “you know exactly where I’m coming from.”
Her understanding rattled him more than he was about to let on. “I do. So the question is...do we tell your mother?”
“Oh, I suppose we should let her have her fun. She doesn’t get much of that these days. And anyway, you seem reasonably sane, which is more than can be said for ninety percent of the men I usually come in contact with. The women, too, for that matter.” Her eyes narrowed. “I feel like you and I could actually have a real conversation, if we put our minds to it.”
Something like a tiny spark flickered in the center of his chest. “Then we don’t have any pressing engagements.”
“Good,” she said, then started toward the large living room, the tile changing over to bare wooden floors. A doorway at the far end opened into what was probably a converted garage, through which he glimpsed a few pieces of exercise equipment. The dog plodded beside her, her new BFF.
“Nice place.”
“Don’t know about ‘nice,’ but it met the main criteria—right location, all on one level, easy access to the outside. It took surprisingly little to retrofit it for my needs. I know the furniture’s goofy, but that’s what happens when seventies’ kitsch—my mother’s stuff from our old ranch—meets I-don’t-really-give-a-rat’s-hiney. And, yes, the torture chamber vibe—” she nodded toward the exercise gear “—adds a nice touch, don’t you think? Seriously, I have absolutely no style sense whatsoever. Nor do I care. And please, sit. Since I am. Of course, I always am, so there’s that. Or we can go take a tour of the grounds, if you’d rather? I doubt Mama’s gonna let your boys out of her clutches for a while.”
Zach wondered if she always prattled like that. If he made her nervous. Although he could only imagine all the people she’d met over the years. Worked with. Why a country vet like him should discombobulate her, he couldn’t imagine. But if getting outside put her mind at ease...
“Sure. Josh asked if I’d check out the stable conditions for Waffles, anyway. He’s pretty protective of the horses that leave his care.” He grinned as she led him through a glassed-in sunroom and onto an obviously new deck that looked over a small pond. “And every bit as bad as your mother.”
She belted out a laugh that made him smile. “You saying we’re doomed?”
“That’d be my take on it, yep.”
“Family,” she muttered as Benny collapsed in a patch of sunshine on the deck and promptly passed out. “Can’t live without ’em, can’t kill ’em. Aw...poor guy. He’s not exactly a pup, is he?”
“Nope. In fact, he’s closing in on fourteen.”
“Get out!” she said, chuckling when the dog released a deep, contented breath. “He’s in fantastic shape for an old dude. You’ve obviously taken great care of him.”
“Actually I’ve only had him a few months, since his owner passed away. She made me promise to take Benito if anything happened to her. Since she was in her nineties, it was touch-and-go which of them would leave first. And she was worried about what would happen if he ended up in a shelter.” Squatting beside the golden, Zach gently stroked the warm fur. “Not many people want to adopt older dogs.”
His eyes still closed, Benny lethargically thumped his tail, then lifted his head to give Zach’s hand a quick slurp before drifting back to sleep. Zach stood, smiling for the old dude. “So how could I not make whatever time he has left as good as possible? And he and the kids are inseparable.”
“I can see that. Then again, dogs and boys are a match made in heaven.”
He looked over to see a gentle smile creasing Mallory’s face as she watched the dog. “You’ve got a pretty soft spot for them, too, I’m guessing.”
“I was raised on a ranch, remember? We always had dogs. Four or five, at least.”
“But Edgar’s your mom’s?”
“He is. We had three pups, back in LA. Rescues, all of ’em.”
“Breeds?”
“Mixed. One big, two medium. They’re with my ex. Or more to the point, with Landon. Because no way was I going to separate them. Poor kid’s been through enough, he can keep the dogs. Well. On to the stables?”
“Sure.”
Her shoulders bunched under the sweater as she navigated the gently sloping ramp leading to what looked like a recently poured cement path, the autumn sun turning her hair nearly the same color as the early-frost-kissed sycamore leaves overhead. “I actually closed on the place three months ago. Took some time, though, to get this all done. And my Realtor was a jewel, supervising it all.”
“It looks like it was always like this.”
“That was the idea. You ever been here before? For the previous owners, maybe?”
Zach shook his head. “Property’s been vacant for years. Twenty, at least.” He stopped short of the stables—four stalls, what looked like a good-sized loft—to take in the spacious dog runs, a sturdy chicken coop. And beyond them, a small orchard. Tart cherry trees, probably. Several types of apple. Whatever might actually produce fruit at this altitude.
Then he glanced over at the stables, and she said, “Yes, I’ve already checked them out. They’re fine. Although I probably won’t bring the horse over until closer to when Landon gets here. Since Waffles needs to be ridden. And it’s not like I can simply hop up on the saddle and take off.”
For the first time, he heard in her voice, if not exactly fear, at least apprehension. A stark contrast to the persona she otherwise presented. To him, anyway. But not only was it none of his concern whether she got back up on a horse or not, he hardly knew the woman. Still, he was surprised how mad it made him, that she’d let fear get in the way of doing whatever she needed, wanted, to do.
Like he had room to talk.
He let his gaze roam over the property, which seemed to go on for a while. “How much land you got here?”
“About twenty acres. After LA, I wanted some space. Needed it.”
“You miss Texas.”
“More than I wanted to admit, yeah.”
“So why didn’t you buy a place there?”
“Didn’t miss it that much,” she said, and he smiled.
“What are you going to do with all of this, though?”
“Haven’t decided. Doubt I’ll entertain much, so I don’t feel any pressure to spiff it up. Although the landscaping could stand some tending. You know anybody who could do that?”
“I’ll get you some names.”
“Good. Thanks.” She paused, her hands folded in her lap. “But I’m sure you’re not the only one who wonders why I chose to buy up here.”
“Because of what happened, you mean?”
She smiled. “Let me guess...your brother?”
“When we were discussing the horse, yeah. As for other people wondering about it...” He shrugged. “None of their business. And if anybody gets up in yours...ignore ’em.”
* * *
Looking back, Mallory thought it was almost scary how naive she’d been when she’d first arrived in LA. How easily she’d trusted people she’d later discovered did not deserve that trust. Twenty years on, she was far more cautious. Far less likely to take anyone at face value.
But something about this man resurrected all that old...innocence, she supposed it was. She knew in her bones she was safe with him, that he was as honest and pure as the landscape that had wrapped itself around her soul from the moment she’d seen it.
“I bought a house here,” she said, “because I fell in love with the area fifteen years ago. The accident didn’t change that.”
“Was that before or after the first Transmutant movie?”
A laugh burst from her chest. “After. By several years. But oh, Lord, what I wouldn’t give to expunge those from my history.” She cocked her head. “So you’ve seen them?”
He smiled. “Only one, when I was a teenager. Although I’d apparently expunged it from mine,” he said, and she laughed again, then sighed.
“I was so young. Barely legal. But both Russell—”
“Russell?”
“Eames. My ex. The director?” Zach shrugged, and she smiled. “Anyway...he and my agent swore it was a good deal. And by the third release, it was a very good deal, money-wise.” A hawk fluttering overhead made her look up. “Although by rights I should’ve been pigeonholed as The Hot Chick and my career would’ve been over before I was twenty-five. Russell’s taking a chance on me beyond that, that I could do something different... I was extraordinarily fortunate.”
“No wonder you married him. If he had that much faith in you.”
A smile pushing at her mouth, Mallory looked out over the wooded ravine dropping off twenty feet from the path. “He really did.” Because that much, at least, was true. “And yes, I suppose that was a major reason why I did marry him. Even though everyone thought I was nuts, what with his being only a couple years younger than my father and all. But for a long time, Russ was everything to me. My champion, my protector, not to mention my acting coach...” She released a breath. “For that much, I’ll always owe him a great deal.”
“So what happened?”
She shrugged. And hedged. “Ultimately we couldn’t adjust to our new roles. As simple as that.” Her mouth twisted. “Russell’s new wife is even younger. Gorgeous. Ridiculously smart. Not in the industry. And Landon likes her. You know, now that I think of it, I think I hate her.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Zach said, and she snorted. Then her eyes met his. “It was a damn good run, you know? I had a career most people can only dream about, and God knows I never expected.” Half smiling, she squinted back at the forest. “And no matter what happens from here on out, nobody can take that away from me.”
After some moments, she heard Zach sigh. “I know what you mean. All the good stuff...it really is ours forever, isn’t it?”
“It really is,” she said softly.
“Do you miss it?”
Mallory met his gaze again. “Sometimes. All the insanity that goes with it?” She shrugged. “Not so much. And I don’t only mean what actually goes into making a film. That has its moments, sure. Magical ones, actually, when suddenly a scene comes together...” She smiled. “There’s a reason I kept doing it. Well, other than the fact that I had absolutely no skill for anything else. Aside from barrel racing, that is. But the world of movie-making...it can be hard. And weirdly far less real at times than the make-believe one up on the screen. Even so, I’ll admit to wishing the decision to quit had been mine.”
He leaned one hand against an apple tree trunk, glancing up into the tangled branches before facing her again.
“And now?”
Was it strange, that she understood exactly what he was asking? “It’s funny—at first I worried that after everything I’d worked for, I’d fade into oblivion. That it’d be as though I’d never existed. Then I found myself hoping people would lose interest, move on to the next thing. And yes, you do start to feel like a thing. A commodity. When that didn’t happen, I realized all I wanted was to be left alone to deal with my life in peace. But mostly for Landon to be left alone to live his.”
“That why you left him with his dad?”
There was no censure in his voice. At least none that she could hear. And certainly she saw nothing but compassion in those gentle blue eyes, so calm and steady behind his glasses. Then a short, dry laugh escaped his lips.
“Sorry, what was that I said about people getting up in your business—?”
“It’s okay. And actually it feels good to talk about it.”
“You sound surprised.”
“It’s not something I usually do. Only child and all that.”
“No friends?”
“Other than my mother? Not really, no.”
Still leaning on the tree trunk, Zach shoved his other hand in his pocket, his gaze tangling up with hers so hard she lost her breath. “So tell me about Landon. If you want to, I mean.”
At least, that’s what Mallory thought he’d said. Hard to tell through the buzzing between her ears. Jeebus. In a few short sentences, this stranger had offered more of himself, been more accepting of her, than Russell had over their entire relationship. She’d had no idea they even made men like that.
And hellz, yeah, you better believe she was going to take advantage of it.
“Leaving him behind was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” she said over the lump in her throat. “But all the attention was really beginning to take its toll on the kid. Especially as he got older. The paparazzi never left us alone. Never. It was ridiculous—I have no idea what they thought they would see, what I’d do that would’ve been even remotely interesting, let alone fascinating. But wherever we went, there they were. No matter how much I tried to evade them.”
“That sucks.”
“You’re telling me. Even if Landon didn’t say anything, I could tell how hard it was on him.” A huge sigh pushed from her lungs. “What I said before, about only wanting him to feel normal? That’s all I’d ever wanted for him, even before all this. So his dad and I decided it would be best for him if I removed myself for a while.”
“Did you consider taking him with you instead?” he asked gently.
“Of course. But the kid’s life is there. Friends, activities...” She smiled. “His dad. Who can’t leave the scene. Or doesn’t think he can. And directors aren’t sexy from a gossip perspective. Seriously, how often do you see Steven Spielberg or Ron Howard’s picture on the front page of The National Enquirer? I was much more intriguing, in a let’s-all-pity-the-gimp kind of way. And I’m allowed to say that, being the gimp and all.”
“And your boy’s happier?”
“I think—hope—he’s at least more...at peace. And honestly? I’m still questioning whether I made the right choice. But it was the only one I felt I could. I’d do anything for that kid. Anything. I’m sure you know what that’s like.”
His lips barely curved. “All too well.”
Mallory smiled back, then released another sigh. “At least Landon knows it’s not permanent, that it’s kind of like when I’d go on location and he’d stay behind, or only come visit from time to time. As much as he remembers that. If all goes well, the sharks will move on to other feeding grounds and I’ll be able to return undetected. In the meantime we talk at least once a day, if not more. I haven’t abandoned my child. Even if it sometimes feels like I have.”
At that, she saw something new in his expression. Almost...annoyance, if she had to name it. Not that she was surprised. No matter how many knots she twisted herself into trying to explain, she doubted few people would understand. Then he reached up and twisted a Gala apple off a nearby tree, holding it out. “Want one? I can’t guarantee it won’t be mealy, this time of year, but—”
So she’d gotten the wrong end of the stick, maybe? “No, thanks, got a whole bowlful inside. And the ones we’ve eaten so far have been perfect. Tart and sweet at the same time.”
“Like memories,” Zach said quietly, frowning at the apple for a moment before taking a bite.
“I suppose so, yes.”
Not looking at her, he chewed for a moment, then nodded, wiping a trickle of juice on his sleeve. “You’re right.” He waved the apple at her. “Perfect.”
“Then please take some home with you, there’s no way we’ll ever eat them all.”
“I might do that. Thanks.” He took another bite, then said, “I should probably go.”
“Ah.”
Zach frowned. “What?”
“We talk about why I left my son behind and two minutes later you suddenly need to leave?”
“No,” he said slowly, “it occurred to me we’ve left my rambunctious boys with your mother, who’s probably more than ready to be rescued by now.”
“Really?”
The frown deepened. “You don’t seriously think I’m judging you?”
“I think it’d be weird if you weren’t.”
“Call me weird, then. Mallory...nobody can truly know what they’d do in someone else’s shoes, but it’s obvious you didn’t make that decision lightly. Or that you were only thinking of yourself. You’re only doing the best you can. Same as every other parent in the world. And something else—whether Landon fully understands it or not right now, you’ve set an example of how the best choice isn’t always the easiest. In fact, it rarely is.”
It was several moments before she could speak. “Wow.”
He shrugged. “Something I remember my parents drumming into us. Just thought I’d share.”
Mallory smiled. “My daddy used to say the same thing, actually. So...thanks. But please don’t feel you have to leave on my mother’s account. When she’s had her fill of little boys—” she wagged her phone “—she’ll let me know. Trust me, that woman is in hog heaven right now. And your boys probably are, too. That woman has grandmothering down to a fine art.”
Chuckling, Zach slid down against the tree’s trunk to sit in a patch of mottled sunlight—sending a shudder of silly pleasure through her. She had nothing to offer this man—other than apples and cookies, maybe—and yet he was still here. How long had it been since someone other than her son had wanted to be with her for her own sake? Warmed her right down to her unfeeling toes, it did.
Zach smiled—and oh, my, did he have a nice smile—when Benny appeared, wagging his tail. “Hey, guy...” He ruffled the dog’s head. “Good nap?” Benny sniffed the apple, actually shook his head, then lay down in the dirt at Zach’s feet as he nodded toward the dog runs.
“I seem to remember the previous owners raised purebred Labs. I think Granville may have even gotten one for his daughter. Hey—maybe you should think of fostering, yourself. You certainly have the space for it.”
Mallory stared at the runs, imagining. “Wouldn’t that mean a full-time commitment?”
“Not necessarily. And God knows the local shelter would be grateful for anything you could do. It’s no-kill, so they get overcrowded from time to time.”
“Let me...think about it.”
“Fair enough.” Zach took another bite of apple, rubbing the dog’s rump with the toe of his boot as he chewed, then threw the core into the ravine as her phone pinged—a text from Mama.
“She’s asking if we’d like to join them.”
One side of Zach’s mouth lifted. “Her way of saying she’s reached her limit?”
“Not that she’d ever admit that.”
Chuckling, Zach pushed himself to his feet, brushing off his butt as he walked toward her. “Yeah, it’s all fun and games until somebody slugs somebody. My own mother regularly threatened to put us up for sale. Unfortunately for her, we knew it was a hollow threat.”
They started back toward the house, Zach’s stride comfortably matching her wheelchair’s pace. And right then, in this perfect setting with this incredibly sweet man walking beside her, Mallory felt almost...whole.
A moment to cherish, for sure.
* * *
Zach had just buckled the boys into their car seats when Dorelle came scurrying out to the truck, an enormous plastic container clutched to her chest.
“Cookies,” she said, a little breathlessly, practically shoving the container into his hands.
“For the entire town?”
“I might’ve gotten a little carried away.”
Zach smiled. “Well, thank you. My mother used to bake up a storm until my father had a heart attack—”
“Oh, no—”
“It’s okay, it was some time ago now, and he’s doing great. But things like cookies are pretty much off-limits. And no sense in tempting the poor man, she says. Anyway, there’s a whole bunch of us who have no problem with cookies, so these won’t go to waste, believe me.”
She beamed. “I’m so glad. Enjoy—”
“Can I ask you something?”
The question had popped out completely without his brain’s permission. Except if it hadn’t, it would’ve bugged him like an invisible thorn that hurts like hell even though you can’t see it.
