Jackson Hole Valentine

by Cindy Kirk

  The light floral scent of her perfume, the feel of her body next to his…took him back to a time when she was his whole world. His body prickled with awareness.

  Meg smiled down at the boy, seemingly unaffected. “Whoa, partner. Your uncle Cole just had knee surgery. Go gentle on him.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt him.” Charlie turned to Cole. “Did I hurt you?”

  Cole’s heart melted and he shook his head.

  A tiny frown worried Meg’s brow. He could tell she found Charlie’s exuberant greeting disturbing. Obviously she hadn’t realized how close Charlie was to him. His smile widened.

  “Honey,” Lexi prompted, stepping forward and resting a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Didn’t you have some pictures you wanted to share?”

  “I have one for you and one for you.” Charlie pointed to Cole then to Meg.

  “Hey, what about me?” Ryan asked in a teasing tone.

  “Nope.” Charlie’s head shook back and forth. “None for you.”

  Ryan chuckled. “The story of my life.”

  Everyone laughed and Charlie looked up at Lexi. “Where are my pictures?”

  “Right here, buckaroo.” Lexi opened a large drawing pad and pulled out about ten different sheets of paper, with an assortment of pictures done in crayon.

  Charlie slowly perused each one, his brows pulled together in thought.

  “Thanks for catching me,” Cole said in a low tone meant for Meg’s ears only. Just because he wanted nothing to do with her didn’t mean he couldn’t be civil.

  “If you’d gone down, you’d have taken Charlie with you,” she responded in a matter-of-fact tone. “Couldn’t have that.”

  Cole searched her cool green eyes. Though her expression gave nothing away, he had the distinct feeling she was angry with him. Which made absolutely no sense. If either of them had a reason to be bitter over their breakup all those years ago, it was him.

  “This one is for you.” Charlie shoved a picture into Cole’s hand.

  He glanced at the paper. Two stick figures, one big, one little, were standing by a bright blue lake under a huge yellow sun, fishing.

  “I know this place.” Cole smiled. “It’s the lake where we spent the day together last summer.”

  “Yep.” The little boy rocked back on his boot heels in a gesture reminiscent of Ty. “That’s you and me.”

  Cole tightened his grip on the picture; the first Charlie had ever given him. It meant a lot to know the excursion had been a special memory, not only for him, but for Charlie, as well.

  “Thanks, buddy.” Cole tousled the child’s dark hair. “I’ll put this up in my hotel room.”

  “If you have a ’frigerator, you could put it there,” the boy said with an eagerness that touched Cole’s heart. “That’s where my mommy puts all my pictures.”

  Cole exchanged a glance with Meg. Or maybe it was a wordless plea. It was getting close to the time Charlie had to leave and he wanted the encounter to end on as upbeat a note as possible. In a second he could see Charlie realizing that his mommy would no longer be putting up his pictures.

  Meg seemed to understand, because she stepped forward.

  “And what do you have for me?” She crouched down so she was at eye level with the boy.

  “This one.” Charlie brandished another picture with a flourish. “I ’membered you like flowers.”

  That much hadn’t changed, Cole thought. When they’d been together, Meg had loved all kinds of flowers. He wondered if daisies were still her favorite.

  “You’ve got a great memory. And you’re right. I do love flowers.” Meg opened her arms to the boy. “Let me give you a ‘thank you’ hug.”

  Charlie went easily into Meg’s arms, nestling his head against her shoulder.

  Cole’s heart gave a ping. He’d been feeling pretty good about the boy’s greeting. And the picture, well, fishing was just the kind of thing a boy did with a dad.

  But what he was witnessing now brought back memories of how his mother had been before his dad died and she’d turned man-crazy. She used to brush his hair back from his face and kiss his forehead, like Meg was doing to Charlie now. Would Charlie miss having a mother?

  Cole shoved the thought aside. Certainly it would be ideal if he were married so Charlie could have both a mother and a father, but being single didn’t mean he couldn’t be a good parent to the boy.

  “Do I get to go home with you and Uncle Cole?” Charlie slipped from Meg’s arms and his gaze shifted from her to Cole. “My pajamas and Mickey Mouse toothbrush are in the car.”

  Ryan shot the social worker a questioning look.

  Lexi smiled apologetically. “I wasn’t sure how things would work today, so I packed his bag.”

  “It’ll be a few days before we have all the arrangements made,” Ryan said, his gaze darting to the boy.

  “No worries. Ever since—” The social worker paused and appeared to be carefully considering her words. “For the past week Charlie has been staying with Derek and Rachel Rossi under emergency foster care.”

  Meg’s brows pulled together. “The names sound awfully familiar.”

  Cole nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “Derek is a former major league pitcher,” Ryan explained. “He’s now an expert sports commentator. So you’ve probably seen him on TV or at least heard his name. He and his wife, Rachel, live part of the year in Jackson Hole.”

  “And both of them are friends of your brother Travis and his wife,” Lexi added, glancing at Meg. “Rachel has done emergency foster care for years. Charlie has really enjoyed staying at their house.”

  “I like it there,” Charlie agreed. “But I’d rather be with you.”

  Cole would have liked it better if the boy had been looking only at him when he’d expressed the sentiment. Instead his hope-filled eyes definitely included Meg.

  “Soon,” Meg said with a reassuring smile.

  “We’ll be together before you know it,” Cole promised.

  “It was nice meeting you both.” Lexi smiled. “But we should hit the road. I need to get Charlie back to the house. Rachel mentioned something about letting the kids make homemade pizza tonight and—”

  “She told me if I came back I could put on the pepperoni.” Charlie grabbed Lexi’s hand and tugged on it. “We better hurry.”

  Thankfully, because Charlie was so eager to leave, there were no lingering goodbyes. In a matter of seconds the social worker and the little boy were out the door and down the hall.

  Cole assumed Lexi planned it that way, to make it easier on Charlie. Still, it was hard seeing the child disappear from view, knowing he was going to a stranger’s home.

  Soon, Cole reassured himself. Soon, Charlie would be his. And when that happened he would never let him go.

  Chapter Three

  “It’s good we came when we did.” Ryan glanced around the bar. Dressed like Cole in a flannel shirt, jeans and cowboy boots, the successful attorney appeared ready to kick back and relax. “A couple of hours, we’d be lucky to find a place to stand, much less a table.”

  By the time Cole had reached his late twenties, he’d grown tired of the bar scene. But Wally’s Place, a popular Jackson sports bar, had it all: pool, darts, karaoke and, according to Ryan, the best burgers in town.

  There was a basket of peanuts on every table and if the rough floor was any indication, tossing the empty shells down was not only acceptable behavior, but encouraged. Their waitress was pretty and more than a little flirtatious, but Cole wasn’t interested. He had more important things on his mind tonight.

  “What do you think the odds are she’ll walk away?” Cole took a bite of his burger then washed it down with club soda.

  “I don’t know Margaret well.” Ryan took a sip of his Guinness. “In fact, I had to have someone at the funeral point her out to me.”

  “I feel badly about missing the service,” Cole said. Margaret’s zinger had hit its target and stuck. “I did everythi
ng I could to get here.”

  “We were supposed to get a dusting.” Ryan chuckled. “Instead it was a monster storm. But that’s the way this winter has been. Of course, I don’t think the weather is any different than it was when you lived here.”

  A sharp pain shot through Cole’s leg. He winced and took another sip of club soda. The way his leg was hurting, he knew he’d have to ice it and pop some pain pills once he got to his hotel room, making alcohol off-limits.

  “Of course, give it five minutes and it will change,” Ryan said with a good-natured chuckle.

  Cole couldn’t believe they were discussing the changeable Jackson Hole climate when there were more important issues on the table. He forced a casual tone. “So what do you think of Margaret?”

  “‘Wow’ was the first word that came to my mind, followed quickly by ‘hot.’” Ryan shook his head, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice her back in high school.”

  Cole experienced a twinge of something that felt an awful lot like jealousy—but couldn’t have been—at the look in his friend’s eyes.

  “There were a hundred and fifty kids in our class,” Cole reminded him. “She wasn’t part of our group.”

  “But you knew her.” Ryan returned the smiles of the two young women in tight blue jeans walking past their table, before leveling his gaze back on Cole. “Meg? Isn’t that what you called her?”

  It had been a slip. He’d been so startled to see her he hadn’t been thinking straight. “We may have talked a couple times.”

  Actually, he and Meg had done a lot more than talk. Until he’d discovered that he couldn’t trust her. In a heartbeat she’d gone from being his whole world to being out of his life for good. “What of it?”

  “Just that you’d know better than me if she’ll back down.” Ryan cracked open a peanut and tossed the shell to the floor, all the while keeping his gaze focused on Cole. “What do you think? Will she walk away?”

  Cole sat back in his seat. He pushed the basket of peanuts closer to Ryan, no longer hungry. “Not a chance in hell.”

  Two days later, Meg pulled up to the house Cole had rented just outside of Wilson. According to Ryan, Cole had gotten the mountain home fully furnished at a “great deal.”

  She turned off the ignition of her rental car and took a moment to survey the large two-story stone-and-log structure. Cole must have done well for himself over the years. The “great deals” she’d been looking at in Jackson Hole were a tenth this size, barely inhabitable and a fortune to rent.

  Her brother and sister-in-law had told her she and Charlie were welcome to stay with them. It was a generous offer, but Meg worried Charlie would get swallowed up in the chaos of five children under the age of seven. Still, it might be her only option if—

  A light tap on the car window pulled Meg from her reverie.

  Ryan stood outside the car, wearing a ski cap and parka. Coupled with his jeans and waterproof hiker boots, he looked more like a college-age ski bum than a successful Jackson Hole attorney. He clapped his gloved hands together as if trying to keep warm, his breath clearly visible in the frigid air.

  Meg smiled. Last night Jackson Hole had been blessed with more snow. The ski resort operators were cheering, and having a thick blanket of the white stuff on the ground made her feel like she was truly home.

  Ryan motioned with one hand for her to get out of the car.

  Slipping her fur-trimmed hood up, Meg pushed the door open and cautiously stepped out. The road to the mountain home had held a hint of a glaze and she wanted to be certain of her footing.

  She glanced around but the attorney appeared to be alone.

  “You didn’t bring Charlie with you?” She couldn’t keep the disappointment from her tone.

  “We can talk inside.” Ryan took her arm as they approached the house, giving her additional stability on the slick sidewalk. “It’s freezing out here.”

  “Wuss,” Meg teased until a blast of extra-frigid air hit her face. She picked up her pace and this time it was Ryan’s turn to laugh.

  “I was looking forward to seeing Charlie.” Meg had thought about him often the past couple of days. She’d even considered having Travis invite Rachel and Derek over. In the end she’d decided against the plan, not wanting to do anything that might jeopardize her chance for custody.

  “I thought it’d be best if the boy wasn’t around when we hashed out the details.” Ryan tightened his grip on her arm as they navigated the steps to the front porch.

  “You didn’t want him traumatized by the yelling and screaming?” Meg said with a wry smile.

  “I’m not anticipating any of that.” Ryan reached around her to press the doorbell. “You and Cole are rational adults who want only what’s best for Charlie. Having you two at each other’s throats would only increase the child’s stress.”

  Meg had to grudgingly agree. Although the image of being at Cole’s throat did hold a certain appeal.

  Meg pressed her hand against her thigh as the wind whipped at her wool skirt. Thankfully she had tights and boots on today as well as a heavy sweater. “I’ve been looking for an apartment.”

  Ryan’s finger jabbed the doorbell again before casting a curious glance her way. “How’s that going?”

  “Could be better.” Meg wrapped her arms around herself for extra warmth. “Even the dumps are expensive.”

  The attorney punched the doorbell and chuckled. “Welcome to Jackson Hole.”

  A brisk breeze slapped Meg in the face. She shivered. “Are you sure Cole is home?”

  “I called him on my way here. His knee has really been hurting him.” A frown furrowed Ryan’s brow. “I hope he didn’t fall.”

  Remembering Cole’s unsteady gait and his determination to push his limits back in Ryan’s office made losing his balance a definite possibility. Meg’s heart picked up speed. “Since he knew we were coming, perhaps he left the door unlocked.”

  She grasped the ornate door handle with her gloved hand and pushed. It opened easily. A flood of escaping warmth washed over them. She hurried inside with Ryan on her heels.

  “Cole, are you okay?” Ryan called out, slipping off his cap and stuffing it into the pocket of his coat.

  “Just moving a little slow this morning.” Cole hobbled into view on his crutches, the brace on his right knee. He’d ditched the suit he’d been wearing the last time she’d seen him for running pants and a blue long-sleeved cotton shirt.

  Meg let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She told herself her racing heart didn’t have a thing to do with him. It was simply that as a rehabilitation professional she saw the signs of a man in considerable pain and facing a long road to recovery.

  Slipping off her parka, she placed it in Ryan’s outstretched hand before refocusing on Cole. “Have you been doing your exercises?”

  “Exercises?” Ryan scoffed. “The guy can barely get around.”

  “It’s important that he starts strengthening his quads right away.” Although Margaret now spent her time working primarily with stroke patients, her first job had been at a sports-medicine clinic.

  Cole’s chin lifted in a defiant tilt. “It’s been a busy week.”

  “I’ll take that as a no.” Margaret’s experienced gaze took in everything from the way Cole was standing to the lines of strain around his eyes. “Do you have a CPM machine?”

  “What’s that?” Ryan asked Margaret, closing the closet door and picking up the briefcase he’d set on the marble floor.

  “Hey, I’m right here,” Cole said a bit gruffly. “If you have anything to ask about my rehabilitation, ask me. Why ask her?”

  “Because she’s the professional,” Ryan said.

  When Margaret saw the blank look on Cole’s face she realized that he had no clue what she did to earn a living, any more than she knew how he could afford a place as expensive as this one.

  “I’m a physical therapist,” she said. “I
’ve worked with my share of sports injuries. I’m guessing you had an ACL reconstruction. The surgery was somewhere between five and seven days ago—”

  “Five.” Cole exhaled a breath. “Right before I left to come here.”

  “And the doctor let you fly?” Margaret didn’t even try to keep the surprise from her voice. Most patients were told not to get on a plane for the first two weeks.

  “I didn’t see another option,” Cole said. “I heard the news about Joy and Ty right after I’d gotten out of surgery. I wanted to be here for the funeral. Pay my respects.”

  His eyes met hers and something unexpected passed between them. She saw her own pain reflected in his and for the first time she realized they shared a common sorrow. In that horrific crash on Route 22, both had lost dear friends.

  “I understand,” Margaret said softly. Recent surgery wouldn’t have kept her away, either. “But I’m sure the doctor emphasized that the first week is the most difficult and a critical time for—”

  “He said a lot of things.” Cole maneuvered himself into a nearby chair and gestured for them to take a seat. “But we’re here today to talk about Charlie and his needs, not mine.”

  Margaret stepped into the large family room, instantly taking note of the hardwood floor and the number of rugs scattered throughout the room.

  Safety hazards. She frowned. If he was her patient, the rugs would all come up until he was steadier on his feet. But he wasn’t her patient, so she kept her mouth shut. She contented herself with admiring the rest of the house before taking a seat on a burgundy leather sofa.

  From what she could see, the kitchen off to her right held granite countertops and pewter-colored appliances. Over to her left was a study with French doors, and straight ahead a large stone fireplace with shelves of books on both sides.

  Despite being a large home, the place had a surprisingly homey feel. It was easy for Margaret to see Charlie playing with his plastic dinosaurs in front of a roaring fire or running up and down the staircase. Or God forbid, sliding down the banister.

  But for Cole and his limitations, this home had to be a nightmare.