Firelight at Mustang Ridge

by Jesse Hayworth

  He hugged her back, and his eyes held a hint of amusement when he drew away. “Is it?”

  “Of course.” She stepped aside. “Mom, Dad, this is Sam Babcock. Sam, these are my parents, Bea and Harris Traveler.”

  Her father gave him an up-and-down. “And you are . . .”

  “Very fond of your daughter,” Sam said, settling an arm around her shoulder. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

  “Danny never mentioned she was seeing someone.”

  Flushing, she looked sidelong at Sam. “I didn’t want it to sound like I was moving so I could stay with him.”

  “Are you?” her mother asked.

  “No.” Saying it put a twist in her belly, though. Not wanting to examine that too closely, she added, “Why don’t we go for a walk? I’ll show you around and we can talk.”

  “Do you want company?” Sam’s quiet offer came in an undertone, and his eyes were steady on hers. His expression said I’m here if you need me, but he didn’t push. Once again he was there to back her up, not fix things for her.

  She went up on her toes and brushed her lips across his. “Thanks, but I need to do this myself. See you later, at the barbecue?”

  “I’ll save you a seat.”

  “Save three.” One corner of her mouth kicked up. “I’m going to do my best to get them on my side.” Not because she was afraid they would try to force her onto a plane headed back east, but because she didn’t want to fight. She might not totally get her parents, and vice versa, but life was too short, too fragile, for her to take her family for granted. “Come on,” she said, turning back to them and gesturing toward the trail she and the others had just ridden down. “Let’s take a walk. From up on top of the ridge, it’s like you can see forever.”

  * * *

  Of course, it was one thing for Danny to decide she was going to convince her parents that she was making the right decision, but quite another to actually do it. They had barely made it through the outer fence line before her father said, “So . . .” then let it trail off.

  It was his favorite interrogation technique, and had long worked with her and Charlie, who invariably filled the silence.

  “It’s pretty up here, don’t you think?” She looked west, to where the sun was just kissing the distant mountains. “Can you imagine the guts it must’ve taken to claim a homestead up here back in the eighteen hundreds? That’s how Mustang Ridge got its start—Jenny and Krista’s great-great-whatever grandparents built a little log cabin and bought some cattle. By the time the market started dying off, Mustang Ridge was one of the biggest cattle stations in the state. Now, thanks to Krista, it’s one of the most successful dude ranches.” Turning to her father, appealing to his love of good business, she added, “The tourist industry is trending up, fast. There’s room for an outfit like mine.”

  “You don’t have a company yet,” her mother pointed out. “Just some ideas.”

  “But they’re good ideas.” As they neared the top of the hill, she laid out her plan point by point, like she had done at the tourism council meeting last week. She finished by saying, “I already have a dozen trips booked for next summer, and that’s not even scratching the surface.” Reaching the marker stones, she stopped and looked out toward Blessing Valley. “And, really, you can’t tell me this isn’t heaven on earth.”

  Barely glancing at the rolling, sun-toasted fields, her father turned to face her. “We’re not saying it’s a bad idea, sweetie. But if you want to lead hikes, why not do it from the shop?”

  Because it’s your shop. And it’s in Maine. But she didn’t want to hurt them; she just wanted them to understand, or at least try to see her position.

  Before she could think of another angle to try, though, her father said, “About this Sam . . .”

  “He’s a good man, Daddy. He makes me happy. But he’s not the reason I’m staying.”

  “You’re still shaky,” her mom said, “still having nightmares. Of course you’d look for someone strong to—”

  “Don’t,” Danny said, the word coming out harder than she meant it to. Blowing out a breath, she said, “I’m sorry. I know this is probably hard for you to believe, but Sam really doesn’t have much to do with my decision. I like it here. I like who I am here.”

  “You should talk to someone,” her mother insisted. “A sports psychologist, maybe. Or, what was her name? Farah?”

  “You’re not listening,” Danny said. “I don’t need more therapy, physical or otherwise.” She would tell Farah, of course—they were friends, and it was thanks to Farah’s gentle nudging that she had wound up at Mustang Ridge. But she wanted to make all her decisions first, on her own. “This isn’t a democracy, Mom. It’s my life, and I’m calling the shots.”

  Bea sniffed. “It sounds like you’re not open to discussing this. I don’t know why we came all this way.”

  Me, neither. Jamming her hands in her pockets, Danny said, “Do you have someplace to stay?”

  “We had a room at this little motel about a half hour away, but when the head chef—Gran, is it?—heard that we had come looking for you, she insisted on us staying in one of the guest rooms at the main house.”

  “That sounds like Gran.” She had probably thought she was doing Danny a favor. And under other circumstances, she would have been. This wasn’t working, though. It might never work—her parents were so convinced that they knew what was best for her, they couldn’t see beyond what she had looked like right after the accident. Which came from love, she knew, and concern. But that didn’t make it any easier to bear. Dashing away a tear prickle, she said, “We should head back down. You won’t want to miss the barbecue.”

  The return trip passed in the silence of a whole lot of things left unsaid.

  * * *

  By the time the barbecue was well under way at the pimped-out gazebo, with Dory and Gran manning the buffet and the guests sitting at scattered picnic tables to plow happily through their piled-high plates, Sam was getting edgy waiting for Danny.

  “Go on.” Wyatt elbowed him. “Go find her already.”

  “She doesn’t want me butting in.”

  “So? That’s what guys do.” Wyatt grinned. “At least that’s what Krista tells me when I get it wrong.”

  Movement near the barn drew Sam’s attention, and he blew out a breath. “There they are.” The sight wasn’t entirely a relief, though, because Danny’s jaw was set and she walked several steps ahead of her parents. He stood and crossed over to her, then gripped her shoulder, because he had a feeling that if he did more she might shatter in front of all the guests, and she would hate that. “Tell me what I can do.”

  “There’s nothing. But thanks.” He didn’t like the hollow defeat in her voice, but her shoulders were square, and when she turned toward her parents, there was a smile on her face. “Come on in, you two. I’ll introduce you to Krista and Wyatt, and we can grab some food.”

  Pride kicked deep in Sam’s gut. She wasn’t giving up, wasn’t giving in. But standing her ground was taking its toll.

  “Sit,” he said, leading her to an empty picnic table. “Give yourself a minute. I’ll get you a plate.” To her parents, he said, “If you’ll follow me, I’ll do a couple of introductions, and we can load up on some of Gran’s famous pulled pork and biscuits.”

  They hesitated, looking from him to her and back again before nodding and following him. He hadn’t gone more than a few steps before Danny’s father said, “So, Sam. About you and my daughter . . .”

  “Danny is a wonderful woman,” he answered, turning to meet the other man’s eyes. “She’s smart, warm, caring, and funny, and she’s one of the bravest people I know. Did she tell you about how she saved the day by climbing up into the rafters of a half-built barn and fixing the electrical connection? She had to be thirty feet in the air.”

  “That’s nothing for my girls,” B
ea said. But then she added, more softly, “She didn’t tell us.”

  Taking that as an invitation, Sam launched into the story, giving them the background on Gabe and Winny Sears, and how the community had come together to help get them on their feet. He didn’t know if there was any hope of changing Bea’s and Harry’s minds about Mustang Ridge, but it looked as if it was going to be a long night.

  * * *

  Later on, with the bonfire lighting the darkness and music playing from the gazebo, Danny got a lesson in toasting the perfect marshmallow.

  “Like this.” Kevin concentrated on hovering his stick a consistent height above the flickering flames while rolling it between his palms. “You gotta keep it moving, or it’ll burn.”

  She felt bad abandoning Sam with her too-quiet parents—they weren’t far, only on the other side of the fire, but the distance felt greater. She had needed a minute of peace, though. And considering how the rest of her day had gone, a cooking lesson from a nine-year-old totally counted. “You don’t like yours burnt?” she asked him.

  He scrunched up his face. “Not for s’mores. The burnt part makes the chocolate taste funny.”

  “Gotcha.” Withdrawing her stick from the fire, she held out her marshmallow. “How does this one look?”

  He leaned in for a careful inspection, then nodded. “That’s a good one. Now you take a graham cracker and a piece of chocolate . . .” He walked her through the procedure, which involved making sure the crackers and chocolate were perfectly parallel, then okayed her to take a bite.

  It was too sweet and coated her mouth with sugar, but she grinned. “Best one I ever had.”

  “Me!” Sonja piped up, reaching for Kevin’s stick. “I’m next.”

  “Yes, you are.” Declan scooped her neatly into his lap and produced a marshmallow-loaded stick as if by magic. “Here, help me hold it just right. Kevin? Do you want to show me how you got it to twist like that, so it cooks all even?”

  Smiling, Danny returned to the other side of the blaze and settled back into the chair between Sam and her parents. She bought herself a few extra seconds by finishing her s’more and then licking the stickiness off her fingers, just like she had back when she was a kid and she and Charlie had competed to see whose marshmallow burned the longest. “Well,” she said, feeling the strain already creeping back. “I think I’m officially an expert marshmallow toaster.”

  Sam caught her hand and squeezed, warming her with his continued support.

  “So you do this every week?” her mom asked.

  “The ranch does,” Danny answered, trying—and failing—to interpret her mother’s expression. “I try to make it as often as possible, especially when I’ve gotten close to some of the guests.” She nodded over at Kevin and Sonja. “Like them. They’re good kids.”

  “And they owe you more than they’ll ever realize,” Mindy said from behind her. Fabric rustled and she came around in front of Danny, her boots sinking into the soft lakeshore sand as she crouched down in front of Sam, Danny, and her parents. “I wanted to thank you for what you did for Sonja. And I wanted to say that if you ever need anything—and I mean anything—you call us.”

  “No, Mindy.” Danny leaned forward and caught the other woman’s hands. “There’s no obligation, truly. Anybody else there would have done the same thing. She just picked me, that’s all.”

  “Maybe that’s true, but it wouldn’t have been as hard for the others as it was for you, would it?”

  Flushing, Danny said, “Krista told you.”

  “I saw your face when you came out of that tiny little cave. I knew there had to be a story.”

  “I’m sorry,” Bea said, puzzled. “What are we talking about here? What cave?”

  “Oh!” Mindy’s face lit up. “You didn’t hear how your daughter saved the day for my little Sonja?” She launched into the story, fumbling a bit when it came to describing the fight between her and Declan, then making Danny sound like she had kicked into superhero mode, swooping down and spiriting Kevin and Sonja away from the fight, and then lighting the crystal cave with her UV-laser eyes.

  Okay, not really. But Mindy gave her way too much credit. “Like I said,” Danny protested, “I just did what any of the others would have, if Sonja had asked them to take her into the cave.”

  “But she asked you,” Mindy insisted. “And you came through for her.”

  “She did,” Sam agreed, pressing a kiss to her temple. “She did us all proud. Better yet, she did herself proud.”

  Yeah, Danny thought. I did, didn’t I? Not that she expected it to matter to her parents—caves were nothing to them, her fears just a weakness. “I’m glad I could help,” she told Mindy, appreciating the other woman’s style and wishing she could find some of the same common ground with her own mom. Turning to her parents, she said, “You guys should see this cave. It’s—” She broke off. “Mom?”

  Bea Traveler’s eyes were drenched with tears. “Oh, sweetie.” She grabbed Danny’s hands and gripped them tight, then let go to swipe at her tears. “I’m sorry. Just give me a minute.”

  Pulse thudding, Danny looked past her mom. “Daddy?”

  He cleared his throat. “It’s okay, peanut. It’s that . . .” He exhaled and reached out to take his wife’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “We don’t like the idea of leaving here without you. But we’re seeing that we’re going to have to.”

  Suddenly, it wasn’t such a bad thing feeling all the air leave her lungs. It left her giddy, even hopeful. “You mean it?” Not that they would be leaving without her, but that they were admitting it.

  Her mom sniffed. “You love it here.”

  A lump gathered in Danny’s throat. “Yeah. I really do.” She realized that Krista was standing nearby, with Abby cradled against her and Wyatt nuzzling her hair. Rose and Gran were there, too, and Declan and the kids, and the others were drawing in closer as word spread that something important was happening.

  “You were so banged up after the accident,” her father said, surprising her with the rasp of emotion in his voice. “The doctors were saying you might not ever walk again, and you were just lying there, pale in some places and so bruised in others . . .” He cleared his throat. “It’s hard for your mom and me to get those pictures out of our heads when it comes to you. But I guess we’re going to have to.”

  She went down on her knees in front of her parents, shattered by their admission. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize . . .” That they had been so worried. That they had been smothering her the only way they knew how. That it had been about more than them wanting to keep things at the shop in the family.

  “We didn’t want you to know.” He brushed the hair back from her forehead, bringing the sudden memory of him doing the same thing in the hospital, back when her forehead had been one of the few spots on her that didn’t hurt. “You had too much on your plate already. Rehab, the dreams, the panic attacks . . . We just wanted to give you a safe place to heal.” His smile went crooked. “I guess we overdid it.”

  She caught his hand and pressed it to her cheek. “You did it exactly right. I’m fine now. Good as new.”

  “No, baby,” her mom said, stroking her hair. “You’re better than that.”

  The tears caught her by surprise, ripping out of her throat in a sob as she hurled herself into her parents’ arms, knowing they would catch her. And as they hugged like they hadn’t done since long before the accident, someone hollered, “Three cheers for Reunion Week!” And darned if all the others didn’t lift their drinks, marshmallows, and empty hands to chant, “Hip hip hooray! Hip hip hooray! Hip hip hooray!”

  As the cheer faded, she pulled away to swipe at her face with a shaky laugh. “Well. I didn’t expect that.”

  Her father wrapped his arm around her mother’s shoulders and tipped their heads together. “We didn’t expect any of this. But that’s okay. We
’ll get used to it.”

  “You’ll visit,” she said, not letting it be a question.

  “We will. And you’ll come home now and then.” Face softening, he said, “No matter where you are or what you’re doing, you’ll always be our little girl.”

  Bea dabbed at her eyes, which were looking raw from the tears. “I think I should maybe . . .” She made a vague gesture in the direction of the main house. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Danny rose and lifted her to her feet, then pulled her in for a hug. “Thank you,” she said. “For everything. I love you.”

  That got her a watery smile and a one-armed hug from her dad. “We’ll see you in the morning?” he asked. “We’ll need to leave around ten to make our plane home.”

  The word home brought a twinge, because it wasn’t hers anymore. But the little pinch was far outweighed by the happy ache of knowing that she and her parents were finally okay. Maybe more okay than they had ever been.

  “Sam and I will meet you in the dining hall at eight for breakfast,” she promised, and then stood and watched as they walked up the pathway to the main house, with their hands clasped and their heads together.

  They had been together almost thirty-five years, and they still held hands.

  “Hey.” Sam came up behind her, kissed her temple, and twined their fingers together. “You okay?”

  “I am. Very okay.” And maybe a little wistful all of a sudden, at realizing how much her parents cared.

  “Do you want to get out of here?” he asked, cruising his lips around the outer edge of her ear.

  Her lips curved as she thought of the comfortable bedroom in the cozy little apartment over the barn. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  * * *

  The next morning, Danny had more than the usual number of good-byes to say—not just to Mindy, Declan, and the kids, and the other guests she had gotten to know over the course of the week, but to her mom and dad as well.

  As the bus gave its trademark beep-beep and trundled up the driveway, she followed her parents to their rental car while Whiz ran zigzags around them, reading the ground with his nose. Danny hugged her mom and said, “I’m glad you came.”