Читать книгу New Year, New Man - Natalie Anderson - Страница 12

Chapter Five

The crash from the floor above made Sara jump out of her seat. She rubbed her eyes and bent to retrieve the stack of papers that had spilled off the desk.

After spending the past few days buried in the office or driving back and forth to town for supplies before the first guests arrived, her eyes felt like sandpaper and her back ached. The time sequestered away from everyone was necessary, she told both herself and April, who’d brought trays of food into the office at regular intervals. For the most part, April had kept her opinion to herself, only dropping one or two pointed questions about the real reason Sara was in self-induced isolation.

Sara wasn’t ready to admit she was avoiding anyone in particular. Definitely not Josh. Or Ryan, with his continuous stream of apologies and the puppy-dog eyes he kept shooting her.

Another loud thud came from upstairs, this one actually shaking the framed pictures on the office walls. It had to be Ryan, Sara thought with an accompanying curse. He must know she was working, and she guessed this was his ploy for her attention. She’d convinced herself it wasn’t going to work until the telltale clatter of glass breaking reverberated through the ceiling.

She muttered another curse and stalked up the stairs. As she made her way down the hall, the sound of muffled crying came from behind one of the closed doors. Claire’s room.

Sara knocked softly, then peeked in when no one answered.

“Claire, are you okay?”

Claire sat on the floor at the foot of the bed, her head resting against knees drawn tight to her chest. “Go away,” she whispered, her voice clearly pained.

Good idea, Sara thought. That was exactly what she wanted to do, retreat back to her own office and not get involved in one more person’s life. Her gaze caught on the nightstand that had been knocked on its side. That explained the crash. Next to the broken lamp was a framed photo, broken glass surrounding it. Claire smiled from the picture, cradled in the arms of a woman—a drop-dead gorgeous woman—who seemed vaguely familiar.

Sara stepped into the room for a closer look. She recognized Jennifer Holmes, international supermodel. In the past decade, Jennifer had graced the covers of countless fashion magazines and several Victoria’s Secret catalogs.

“Is this your mother?” she asked, carefully lifting the frame from the carpet. “She’s beautiful.” She found a wastebasket beside the dresser and dumped the pieces of glass into it.

“I hate her,” Claire mumbled. “She doesn’t care about me at all.”

“From this picture, she looks like she does.”

“Duh.” Claire lifted her tearstained face. “She’s a supermodel. She can make herself look however she wants for a camera. That isn’t real.”

Sara knew there could be a big difference between what the camera showed and reality. “What makes you think she doesn’t care? Tell me what’s real, Claire.”

The girl stared at her for several seconds, mouth pressed tight together. Then her eyes filled with tears. “What’s real is that she’s on some yacht in France with her new rock-star boyfriend. She told me she was getting help. For her drinking and stuff. She’s supposed to be putting her life back together so I can live with her again.” Claire sucked in a ragged breath, her words spilling forth like the tears that ran down her face. “And she’s not. She won’t. She doesn’t care.”

“Maybe she’s—”

“I saw it on a gossip website. Pictures of her in a bikini with a guy’s hand on her butt. I called her cell phone. She tried to tell me she was at the rehab place.” Claire stood and flopped onto the bed. “After I saw the website. She’s a liar. I asked her if I could come to where she was and she said no. She needs a break.” Claire hiccupped and swiped at her cheeks. “A break from me.”

Sara’s heart melted. “Claire, I’m sorry—”

“I hate it here. I don’t know anyone. I don’t have any friends. Dad act likes we’re going to do all this bonding, but he’s always working. He barely says two words to me when he’s around. It’s like he doesn’t know what to talk about.” She shook her head. “How can I be so bad that neither of my parents want to be around me?”

“Oh, honey.” Sara sat down next to the bed and wrapped one arm around the girl’s shaking shoulder. Claire stayed stiff and then, with a sigh, sank against Sara.

“It’s me,” she repeated.

“It’s absolutely not you.” Sara gave Claire’s arm a gentle squeeze. “I know for a fact that your dad loves you very much. He works so hard so he can make the ranch into a home for the two of you.”

“It’s not going to be much of home when you sell it,” Claire said miserably.

Touché, Sara thought with a mental groan. “Whatever happens,” she answered without addressing Claire’s comment, “he wants to be with you. He’s trying to do what’s best because of you.”

“He doesn’t even like to be around me.”

Sara squeezed her eyes shut, thinking of the love, longing and confusion in Josh’s eyes when he looked at his daughter. “How long did your dad ride bulls?”

“I don’t know. Forever,” Claire mumbled. “I think since he was like seventeen or something.”

“That’s only a few years older than you. And how old was he when you were born?”

“Eighteen. My mom was, too.”

“Yeah, well. Take it from someone who knows—young parents don’t always know what they’re doing. Your dad is trying. That has to count for something.”

“Was your mom young when you were born?”

“Nineteen.” Claire sniffed, and Sara dug in her pocket for a tissue. “Here, use this.”

Claire blew hard then said, “She’s really pretty. Your mom. She came to the ranch a few weeks ago. Tried to kick Dad and me out.”

“That sounds like Mom.”

“Are you close with her?”

Sara laughed softly. “Not exactly. You’re changing the subject.”

“I’m good at that.” Claire shifted away from Sara and smiled a little.

“Me, too.” Sara reached out a finger and ran it along Claire’s cheek. “Have you talked to your dad about how hard it’s been here for you?”

Claire shook her head. “I can’t.”

Sara watched her without answering.

“I don’t want to make it a big deal. I guess it’s not that bad,” Claire said with a sigh. “I mean, I like the mountains. And how the air smells. Like it’s...”

“So clean it almost hurts,” Sara finished.

“Exactly.” Claire picked at an invisible spot on her jeans. “And Brandon’s okay.”

“The kid who helps your dad in the barn?”

“He’s fifteen. His family owns the property across the highway. He’s kind of nice.”

“And cute.”

Claire looked up, pink coloring her cheeks as she met Sara’s gaze. “Do you think so?”

“He’s got those great big blue eyes, right?”

Claire sighed. “And that smile. He’ll actually talk to me. But he’s got a girlfriend, I think.”

“You can still hang out when he’s here. Just friends. I bet your dad would love an extra hand in the barn.”

“I don’t know anything about horses.”

“Just like he doesn’t know anything about what teenage girls are into. It’s up to you, but I know your dad does care about you. He wants you around. That counts for something. Maybe if you seemed interested in something he knew about, it could help with that bonding you mentioned.”

“I wouldn’t be in the way?”

Sara smiled. “April and I get in the way. Ryan is always in the way. You’re the one Josh wants around.”

“I think he wants you around, too,” Claire said softly, then asked, “Is Ryan your boyfriend?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Do you want one?”

Josh’s face came to mind, and Sara tried to ignore the shiver that curled through her belly at the thought of his mouth on hers. “I’ve given up on men.”

Claire studied her, looking suddenly older than her thirteen years. “Aren’t you a little young for that?”

“I’m twenty-eight. That’s like one-foot-in-the-grave time in Hollywood.”

Claire nodded as if she understood. “My mom turned thirty-one last year. That’s when she started to freak out. Party more. She gets Botox and some other wacky stuff.” Claire stood and looked in the mirror above the dresser, pinching two fingers to the bridge of her nose. “She said I could have my nose done as a sweet sixteen gift. That’ll be cool. I might look a little more like her and she’ll...”

Sara turned Claire to face her. “Listen to me. You are perfect the way you are. Plastic surgery isn’t going to change your relationship with your mother.”

“You don’t know—”

“I do know. I spent years jumping through hoops to win my mother’s approval. Guess what? Never happened. Maybe it never will. I hope it does for you, Claire. I hope your mom gets healthy and realizes how precious you are to her. Until then, I know your dad loves you. Even if he isn’t great at showing you how much.”

“I just want to fit in here,” Claire said miserably, her green eyes, so like Josh’s, welling again.

“I know, sweetie.”

“Would you take me shopping sometime?” Claire asked. “None of my clothes are right for Colorado, you know?”

Sara thought about the women in Feathers and Floss. “Are you looking for Wranglers and studded belt buckles?”

“No.” Claire laughed. “Just clothes to hang out in. If you don’t have time, I understand.”

Sara gave her a quick hug. “I have time. How about before the weekend? I’ll drive us down to Denver. We can make it a girls’ day out. Go to lunch. Get our nails done.”

“Really?”

“Of course, I may only be able to afford one sock, but we’ll do our best.”

“Dad has money. I could ask if we can use his credit card.”

Sara almost choked from laughing so hard. “I bet he’d love that.” She pushed the hair off Claire’s innocent face. “I pay my own way. But, heck, yeah, we’ll get his card for you. A shopping trip is one thing dads are always good for.”

“Was your dad good for that kind of stuff?”

Sara’s father had been a nameless stuntman on one of her mother’s B movies. An on-set fling for Rose, who hadn’t even told him she was pregnant and had never shared his identity with Sara.

“I don’t know my father.”

“Oh. I guess it’s good that Josh wants me to live with him anyway.”

“He doesn’t like it when you call him Josh.”

Claire grinned. “I know.”

“How much did you see him before this summer?”

“A couple of times a year when he had time off from the tour. He’d come to my school and take me out to dinner. He sent me presents from the road. Lots of stuffed animals and things like that. I’d never been to the rodeo until...” Claire wrapped her arms tight around her chest. “The accident was my fault. Did you know that?”

Sara had read a half-dozen articles about the horrific accident that had ended Josh’s career. It still made her sick to her stomach to think about the images she’d seen on YouTube. But none of the reports had mentioned Claire. “Why do you say that?”

“I was there.” Claire scrunched up her face. “Mom was having a bad time. It was winter break and she was stuck with me. She found out there was an event a few days before Christmas and flew us both down there. I think she wanted to dump me with him for the holidays. She didn’t tell him we were coming. Right before he came out of the gate, he looked up and saw me. It broke his concentration.” Claire drew in a shaky breath. “They let the bull go right at that moment and...” Her voice broke off as she shook her head. “The whole arena was silent when it happened. I thought he was dead. The bull was so big and it landed right on him.”

“Claire.” Sara drew the girl into another tight hug. Sara had been through some bad stuff as a kid, but this poor girl gave her a run for her money in the bad-childhood department.

“They took him to the hospital straight from the event. I didn’t see him again until he showed up on the last day of spring semester.” Claire wiped her cheek against Sara’s sleeve. “If I hadn’t been there, he’d still be riding.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Sara whispered against the girl’s head. “It was a terrible accident. But not your fault. Not your fault.”

“But I—”

“Have you and your dad talked about what happened?”

Claire didn’t answer.

“I’m sure he doesn’t blame you.”

“He should.”

“You need to talk to him.”

“No,” Claire whispered. “I don’t want to hear him tell me I ruined his life.”

* * *

Josh sagged onto the wall outside his daughter’s bedroom and swallowed against the bile that rose in his throat. He’d come to find her minutes ago but stopped short when he’d heard her conversation with Sara.

He didn’t blame Claire for the accident. His break in concentration was his own fault. He’d been riding bulls long enough to know his focus should be zeroed in on the thousand pounds of angry animal between his legs. But when he’d seen Claire, he’d been thrown. Literally and figuratively.

Apparently, they’d both paid a price for his lapse in focus.

In his mind, he’d hoped she hadn’t seen much or understood how bad it had been. Hoped her mother would whisk her away before she realized how serious it was. Jennifer had probably been too tipsy to understand the extent of the damage. But not Claire.

He had a hazy memory of trying to smile even as he felt his leg shatter, thinking that if his daughter could see him he didn’t want to frighten her. He hadn’t wanted her to know how scared he had been. Even now, that thought kept him rooted to his spot in the hall when his heart knew he should be the one with his arms around her, comforting and soothing her.

He’d waited until he could hide his injury before he’d come to see her, thinking that would be easier for both of them. Since he’d brought her to the ranch, sometimes he’d catch her staring at his right knee, especially toward the end of the day when exhaustion and overuse made it more difficult to hide his slight limp.

He wanted to be strong for her, not weak and half-broken. Bending forward, he rubbed at his leg, willing the pain to go away. He straightened and thumped on the wall as he walked to the end of the hall. “Claire,” he called, coming back toward her room. “Are you up here?”

He made some more noise before poking his head in her room. She sat on the edge of the bed with Sara next to her. While she smiled at him, her eyes were red and puffy from her tears. “Hey, Dad,” she said cheerfully, a sure sign that things were very wrong.

Sara watched him as if his face gave away the fact that he’d been eavesdropping. Impossible, he thought, but kept his gaze on Claire. “It’s a gorgeous day,” he said to his daughter. “I thought we could take an ATV up to Bitter Creek Pass, check on the trails and maybe have lunch.”

Her smile faded. “I don’t think so.”

He took a breath and made his tone light. “Come on. It’ll be fun. Just you and me and a ton of horsepower.”

She scrunched up her nose. “Those things are so loud and they go really fast.”

“That’s supposed to be the fun part,” he said, trying not to sound frustrated.

He let his eyes drift to Sara, who looked at him with a hint of sympathetic smile. “Can I come, too?” she asked.

As much as his body ached to be near Sara, part of him was angry his daughter had confided her pain to someone besides him. And he wanted her to know it. “There’s only room for two on the ATVs, Hollywood.”

“Einstein in a Stetson, aren’t you? Thanks for pointing that out. I was thinking I’d have my own four-wheeler.”

Her attitude made him grin despite himself. “You think you can handle it?”

She matched his smile. “Oh, yeah. I can handle it.”

Claire cleared her throat, and Sara turned that million-watt grin on his daughter. “What do you say? I bet I can beat you and your old man to the top of the pass.”

“He’s knows a lot about ATVs.”

Sara tossed her hair. “I’m not scared of his ego.”

Claire gave a tiny giggle. “We’re going to kick your butt,” she said quietly.

“Oh, smack talk,” Sara said with a loud laugh. “Guess the cowboy isn’t the only one in the Travers family with a healthy ego. I love it. I’ll help April pack a lunch while you two get the equipment ready.”

Claire popped up off the bed and took two steps before Josh saw her realize her part of the deal. She slowed, dragging one bare foot across the carpet. “I guess that would be okay.”

Josh didn’t wait for her to change her mind. “Let’s go, then,” he said, hoping he sounded enthusiastic and not as scared as he was to mess up this chance with her. “We’ll make sure Sara gets the slow one,” he added in a stage whisper.

“Dad, that’s not fair.” Claire wiggled a finger at him.

“Right. Sorry.”

“I mean, we’re going to beat her bad enough as it is.” Claire’s eyes danced as she grinned at him and his heart skipped a beat. Her smile was so like his sister, Beth’s. A smile he missed like he missed riding.

“You bet we are,” he agreed, and motioned her to lead him out the door.

As she walked past, he met Sara’s gaze. She arched a brow.

“Thank you,” he mouthed.

Instead of the sassy comeback he expected, she only nodded and shooed him after Claire.