by Jane Porter
Climbing into the front passenger seat, Rachel buckled her own seat belt and glanced at Cade as he opened the driver-side door and slid behind the steering wheel, wondering what it was about Cade that put Tommy at ease, because normally Tommy didn’t like men or big people. He preferred older women...gentle women, women like Grandma or Mrs. Munoz, and Cade was most definitely not like either of them.
But then, Cade was calm, and he had a different energy—relaxed, laid-back—and animals responded to it, particularly young animals and high-strung horses. She wouldn’t go so far as to call him a horse whisperer, but often all he had to do was touch an animal for it to settle down, relax. Maybe he had the same effect on Tommy.
She looked over her shoulder at Tommy in his car seat. He was crooning to himself and looking out the window, as happy as could be. He hated the car, yet he liked Cade’s truck.
Of course her boy would love Cade. She’d once loved him, too.
A lump filled her throat and, swallowing hard, she looked out the window, hands balling in her lap.
But she couldn’t go there. Wouldn’t go there. Life was hard enough without giving in to memories and wishful thinking. Better to remain focused and disciplined. Better to think about what was, rather than what could have been. Far fewer expectations that way. Less opportunity for disappointment and pain. And she was a realist now. Life and experience had made sure of that. She didn’t dream dreams for herself anymore. Her dreams were for Tommy. It was Tommy who mattered now.
“I haven’t had a drink in over two years, Rachel,” Cade said, his deep voice breaking the silence.
Rachel stiffened, surprised, and more than a little uncomfortable, feeling as if he’d somehow peeked into her mind and seen what she was thinking.
“I’m done with drinking. It might be okay for some people, but it’s not a good thing for me.” He looked at her, his blue gaze steady, piercing. “It never was a good thing for me.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it, not knowing what to say. What did he want her to say? Great, Cade, I’m proud of you.
“You were right,” he added, his voice a little deeper, a little rougher. “But you know that. I just want you to know that you were always right. You did the correct thing, too, telling me to sober up. I’m glad you were strong enough to do it. And I’m also glad you weren’t there to see me hit rock bottom...it got pretty ugly before I figured out the drinking wasn’t working.”
“So what was your lightbulb moment? What sobered you up?”
He hesitated so long that she wasn’t sure he was going to answer, and then he said bluntly, “I drove my truck into a tree, going eighty miles an hour.”
She shot him a swift glance. “Did you miss a bend in the road?”
A small muscle popped in his jaw. “No. Meant to do it.” His right hand tightened on the steering wheel. “I was racing my demons that night and they won.”
“Cade,” she whispered, chest aching, eyes burning. Because as mad as she was at Cade, the idea of a world without Cade didn’t make sense to her. A world without Cade was no world at all.
Over the years, yes, part of her had hated him. But a bigger part of her had loved him, and maybe it was crazy, but just loving him a little bit from afar had kept her going when nothing else did. And even though she couldn’t talk about him with Mia or any of her other friends, she was secretly glad he’d done well on the circuit. She was happy when he climbed in the standings and proud when he won. Maybe they couldn’t be together but she wanted good things for him. No, she wanted great things for him. Not because she was selfless and all altruistic, but because she’d loved him that much. It was impossible to love someone that much without wanting what was best for them, and that’s all there was to it.
“Good thing you didn’t die,” she said tartly, lifting her chin and giving Cade a fierce look. “Because then I couldn’t have given you a piece of my mind, Cade King, and I promise you, when we don’t have little ears listening, I’m going to tell you exactly what I think about you and your drinking and your demons.”
Cade’s gaze locked with hers for a second before he focused on the road, but she saw the corners of his mouth curl and creases fan from the edges of his eyes. “You do that, darlin’,” he drawled. “You give me that piece of your mind. And don’t hold anything back, either, because Lord knows, I have it coming.”
And just like that, a little crack formed in the ice coating her insides and she had to draw a very careful breath to keep the crack from growing any bigger.
She could like Cade and want the best for him, but she couldn’t get carried away. She knew who Cade was and what he was, and he might be gorgeous and good with animals and children, but he wasn’t good for her. He wasn’t. And she had to remember that. Had to remember what loving Cade had done to her.
Ten minutes later, Cade slowed before a large gate, and the automatic gate slowly swung open, and then they were driving across the cattle guard, the big black truck rattling as they crossed the bars. But the ranch house was another five minutes off the road, and Rachel watched scenery, studying the fenced pastures, and the clusters of oak trees and elm trees, and the gleam of a distant pond or lake. She and Cade used to go look at ranches when they were together, pretending they had the money to buy something, and they’d talk about what they liked about a particular piece of property, and what was lacking...
“It’s called Sweetwater,” Cade said, gently braking and veering right, turning into a large circular driveway that connected a cluster of ranch buildings, “for the two streams and lake on the property.” And then he was parking in front of a house made from Texas limestone, the simple house fronted by a deep veranda. Six rough-hewn pillars supported the porch, drawing the eye upward to the three windows jutting out of the steeply pitched roof. The bedrooms, Rachel guessed, glancing up.
“Home,” Cade said, turning the engine off.
Just then Lacey came bounding from around the corner, thrilled to see Cade, and Tommy shrieked in the backseat, arms outstretched. “Dog!”
Cade laughed and looked at Rachel. “He really does like dogs.”
“Loves them.”
“Wait until he sees the puppies.”
* * *
IT WAS A DAY SHE’D NEVER forget, Rachel thought, watching Tommy sit in the middle of the family room, surrounded by gorgeous, fluffy golden puppies that wanted nothing more than to crawl over him, and lick him, and burrow into his hands. And Tommy—bless him, her beautiful boy—was so gentle and his expression was so full of joy, that it made her heart ache, and she had to fight tears to see a child that people didn’t understand and want to understand just love and be loved.
And maybe they were only puppies but still, love was love, and Tommy was in heaven. He was. Now and then he’d let out a little yelp, inarticulate with joy, and Lacey would go to him and give his face a lick, as if he was one of her pups, too. Rachel suddenly turned away as Tommy nuzzled Lacey back, kissing her soft muzzle as if that were the most natural thing in the world for him to do.
She walked to the window and stared out, a hand pressed to her mouth, fighting tears, fighting joy, fighting to maintain control because life wasn’t easy for them, and few things were simple for Tommy. But this was, and she was grateful. Grateful that for a couple hours her son could just be, and be happy, and good...not good as in well behaved, but good as in peaceful. Good as in complete and perfect just the way he was made.
“You okay
?” It was Cade, and she’d heard his boots as he’d come up behind her but she couldn’t totally pull herself together in time.
Rachel nodded, wiping away tears, keeping her back to him.
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head.
“But you’re crying.”
“He kissed Lacey,” she whispered, her voice cracking.
“Is that bad?”
She shook her head, wiping tears that suddenly wouldn’t stop. “No. It’s good. Sweet.” She gulped a breath and struggled to smile through her tears. “It’s just that...he doesn’t kiss me.”
Cade would never forget that moment. Never. It would be burned into his mind for the rest of his life.
Her face. Those gray eyes, filled with tears and shimmering like silver. Her lips trembling, struggling to smile. And those words. Just four little words.
He doesn’t kiss me.
Cade reeled inwardly, sucker punched, as it hit him harder than ever before just what his girl had been going through.
Bravely. Uncomplainingly.
If it’d be okay for a man to cry, he would have cried right then and there because his heart was breaking for Rachel, and for the life she’d lived while he’d been riding bulls and broncs and trying to figure out which end was up and learning how to forgive himself, never mind like himself.
But he’d gotten to the other side of some dark, scary stuff and he was still here, and he was stronger for it. And God help him, but his scars and toughness had to count for something. His scars and banged-up heart still had to be good for something.
They had to be.
“You’ve raised a beautiful boy, Rachel. You have. You should be proud of yourself.”
And then she did the unthinkable. She turned into his arms and leaned against him, her wet face pressed to his chest, and cried. Cried. Real tears, hard tears, hot tears, and it hurt to know his lovely Rachel had so much pain inside, but he wasn’t going anywhere ever again. She might not know it yet, and she might never believe it, but Cade was in it for the long haul this time. She was his world and his future and his heart. And it might take him years to win her back, but he would.
His big hand settled on the back of her head, and gently, carefully, he stroked her hair, his palm smoothing the straight, silky strands. While he hated that she was crying as if her heart was breaking, he was glad he could hold her, and glad he could finally be there for her, because late was still better than never.
* * *
IT WAS HARD PULLING TOMMY away from Lacey and her puppies but Cade finally managed to get Tommy out of the house and into his booster seat in the truck, after explaining to him that the puppies were just little tiny babies and they were hungry and needed to eat and sleep.
Tommy had made a little crooning sound, and then he leaned over and kissed each puppy somewhere on the head or back or butt—as he did with the last one who was wiggling toward Lacey for dinner—and waved goodbye. Now they were all having dinner at Cade’s favorite café in Weatherford.
Rachel ordered chicken nuggets for Tommy—one of the few foods he’d eat—and a grilled-cheese sandwich and tomato soup for herself. And Cade sat in the booth, dipping his French dip into the au jus, feeling so many different things that he didn’t know how he kept it all in.
This is what it’d be like, he thought, watching Rachel pop chicken bites into Tommy’s mouth as Tommy stared off in space, a dreamy expression on his face.
This is what it’d be like if they were a family...if they were his family. And the thought wrenched something deep inside his chest.
It’d been a long time since he’d had a family. He’d hungered to be part of one since he was a little boy, and then when he understood at fifteen it wasn’t going to happen, he set out on his own, trying to forget who he was and where he’d come from. It’d been eighteen years since he’d hitchhiked out of Texas, but he’d never forgotten that first week on the road—the nights at truck stops, the mornings and afternoons standing alongside the highway with his thumb out, the moments he had to duck or run when he saw a highway-patrol car, certain the police were coming after him.
He’d always remember the cities he passed through, too—Abilene, Lubbock, Amarillo, Albuquerque, Santa Fe, Pueblo, Colorado Springs, Denver, Fort Collins, Cheyenne—before finally meeting Jasper Smythe, the ranch foreman for the Douglas Ranch, who let the exhausted teenager crash for a night in the bunkhouse, and then for another night, before introducing him to the Douglas family, who took a chance on him and gave him his first real job.
Sometimes all people needed was a chance.
Cade looked from Tommy’s dreamy expression to Rachel’s tense one, aware that she was doing her best to keep him at arm’s length, but Cade wasn’t daunted. All he needed was a chance. And Rachel, whether she knew it or not, was giving him that chance right now, and this time there was no way he was going to blow it.
* * *
RACHEL’S PHONE RANG WHILE Tommy was carefully eating the frosting off his slice of chocolate cake. He didn’t like cake, but loved frosting, and she’d been trying not to smile at how finicky he was with every cake crumb.
“Phil,” she said to Cade, picking up her phone to take the call.
Cade reached for his wallet. “Tell him we’re on the way.”
But answering, Phil apologized and told her that despite his best effort, he wasn’t going to be able to finish her car tonight. He was really sorry and knew it was an inconvenience, but it was late and his daughter had a basketball game and he couldn’t miss it.
Rachel told him she understood and that it wasn’t a problem, but hanging up, her stomach churned with anxiety and frustration. She wanted her car back. She wanted her life back. She wanted to feel as though she had some control again.
“Not good news,” Cade said, catching sight of her face.
“No.” She sighed. “Looks like you’ll have to play chauffeur another day longer.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. Everything’s back together but something’s still not working. The car’s not idling right or it dies while idling, despite replacing the alternator, and Phil doesn’t have any more time to figure it out tonight—”
“Yes, he does,” Cade interrupted, reaching for his phone. “He’s not going home and leaving you without your car for another day. That’s ridiculous. I’m going to tell him to suck it up and work late—”
“Don’t.” She stretched a hand across the table, placing her fingers over his, stopping him from dialing Phil’s number. “His daughter has a basketball game. He needs to be there.”
“No—”
“Yes,” she said firmly. “He does. Trust me. He does. I can make it another day without a car.”
Cade didn’t answer. He was looking at her hand where it rested on his, and she glanced down, seeing what he saw...her fingers on his, her skin pale against his bronze skin, and her skin tingled, not just where they touched, but everywhere.
Suddenly too warm, Rachel pulled her hand away and busied herself gathering coats and her purse. “Ready?” she asked, feeling breathless.
“Yep.” Cade slid out of the booth.
Rachel tried to get Tommy into his coat, but he was facing Cade, his arms out to him. “Dog?” he said hopefully.
“No, honey,” Rachel answered, tugging Tommy toward her, trying to slip his arm into one sleeve. “Not tonight. Maybe another time.”
“Dog.” Tommy pulled his arm out of the coat
and leaned past Rachel to look up at Cade. His hands made circles in the air. “Pup...pup...puppies. Cade h-h-house.”
“No, Tommy,” she said, struggling to be patient, but it was hard at the end of the day. Her patience tended to wear thin about now. “Not tonight. It’s time to go home.”
He wailed. “Mama!”
“And Mama said no, Tommy.” She wrestled his right arm into his coat and then the left and zipped it quickly before he could stop her.
“Puppies. Dog. Cade house. Tommy good boy. Tommy go—”
She exhaled hard, exhausted, frustrated. “No.”
“Why not?” Cade asked quietly.
Rachel stared up at him, startled, before glancing out the café windows at the dark sky. “It’s...getting late.”
“It’s just a little after six now.”
“But if we go back, it’ll be almost impossible getting him out later. You remember how difficult it was dragging him away from Lacey and her puppies in the first place.”
He shrugged. “So stay the night.”
“What?”
He shrugged again, even more casually than before. “Stay the night, and I’ll take you to Phil’s garage to get your car in the morning as soon as it’s done.”
“We can’t,” she spluttered.
“Why not?”
Rachel scrambled to think of a good, practical reason, one he couldn’t argue with and, sadly, she couldn’t think of a single one. There was no cat or dog waiting to be fed. There was no family member waiting, or someone who would disapprove. There was nothing urgent to be done but pack, and she still had a week before they had to move.
