Weathered wood squeaked on its hinges as she pushed the barn door open. Jen inhaled the sweet scent of hay and musty aroma of age hanging in the air. She climbed the rickety ladder, hitching her legs carefully over gaps left by missing rungs, then settled onto a pile of loose hay at the edge of the loft.
She tugged her cell phone from her pocket and dialed, holding her breath until the long succession of rings stopped.
“Hello?”
The voice droning over the line was hoarse with sleep and tinged with irritation.
Jen sat up straighter. “Hi, Mom.”
A beat of silence was followed by a rustling sound. “Jen? What’s happened? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Mom. Nothing’s happened.”
Jen swung her legs nervously, bumping the back of her calves against the loft’s ledge. A fresh wave of shame swept through her. She couldn’t blame her mom for the anxious reaction. It’d been over three years since she’d last called her. And calling, then almost immediately saying goodbye each time, had eventually become too painful to continue. So she’d stopped phoning altogether.
“I just...” Jen pulled in a shaky breath. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”
Nora’s sigh drifted over the phone. “I’m glad to hear your voice, too. But you scare me to death calling this time of night, Jen.”
Jen clutched the phone tighter, her stomach churning. It’d been late the night the call had come years ago, notifying Jen’s mother that her husband had been in a car accident. Jen couldn’t remember much from that night, she’d been so young. But she did recall how hard her mother’s fingers had trembled when she’d buttoned Jen’s coat and hustled her outside to make the trip to the hospital.
“I know,” Jen said, guilt gnawing at her insides. “I’m sorry. I just thought I’d check in. See how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine,” Nora said, her tone hard and heavy with the grit of tough living. “Always am. Where are you?”
“Back in Georgia.” Jen hesitated. “I’m taking a break from the circuit.”
“A permanent break?” Her mom’s tone lifted. “Are you coming home?”
“No.” Jen forced out the words. “I’m just helping out a—” she swallowed hard “—a friend for a few days. Then I’m going back. So I won’t have time to visit, but I promise I will once this tour is over.”
Nora was silent for a moment before saying, “You’ve been roaming the road for a long time now, Jen. Whatever it is you’re looking for, you’re not going to find it out there. Thought you’d have learned that by now.”
Jen stilled, reminding herself of the rewards all the hard work would eventually bring.
“I’m an athlete, Mom. If I want to be successful, I have to make sacrifices. Traveling is just part of the life.”
“I suppose. But I still think you do too much of it,” Nora said softly. “The girls asked about you the other day. They look for you on the box from time to time.”
The girls. Jen smiled. The women that bused tables with her mother had always gotten a kick out of her rodeo tales during her rare visits home. And “the box” was an old, beat-up TV barely clinging to the wall above the bar at The Greasy Spoon.
“Tell them to keep watching,” Jen said. “Because they’re going to see me win a title soon.”
“Jen, how long are you going to do this?” Her mom’s voice gentled. “I know I’m hard on you, but I keep at you because I love you. You’ve wasted years already, and if you’re not careful you’re going to use up the best ones you’ve got left chasing something that will never happen—”
“It will happen,” Jen said. “I’m good at what I do and I’m going to win big soon.”
“There’s an opening at the diner. I could put in a good word for you.”
“I’m not coming back to Hollow Rock to break my back wiping scraps off dirty tables and trying to live off crumpled dollar bills like—”
Jen clamped her mouth shut and closed her eyes, dismay heating her face.
“Like me, you mean?”
Her shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean it that way,” she whispered. “But please try to understand. It’s just...you know nothing’s ever come easy for me. Except racing. It’s the only thing I’ve ever been any good at.” Her throat tightened. “I’m a joke in Hollow Rock. But on the circuit, Diamond and I shine, Mom. We stand out. I’m someone important that people notice and remember. Someone you can be proud of. And when I win, I’ll be able to take care of both of us. I’ll be able to get you out of Hollow Rock.”
“I’ve been proud of you every day of your life, Jen. And I’m doing fine here. I’ve never needed anything more than what I got right now. Except for maybe seeing my daughter more often.” Her voice turned brusque. “I gotta go. I’m working the graveyard shift tonight and a double tomorrow. I need to snag sleep when I can. Be careful out there.”
“Mom?” Jen clutched the phone harder, straining to hear something other than silence, her vision blurring. “You and the girls keep watching the box, okay? You’re going to see me soon.”
Nora’s voice broke on her next words. “I’d rather see you in person, Jen.”
The phone clicked and the line went dead.
Jen looked up at the sparkling sky, the stars winking and the moon bigger than she’d ever seen it. Transfixed, she reminded herself how much more there was outside Hollow Rock and Raintree Ranch. How much more to experience and how much easier she’d be able to make her mother’s life after earning a good reputation and enough money to support them both. And how hard she’d worked to become someone that mattered.
“You okay?”
Jen jumped and glanced over her shoulder, blinking rapidly to clear the tears from her eyes and shoving the phone back in her pocket.
Colt stood a few feet away.
“Yeah.” Jen faced forward, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Just touching base with home.”
“Everything all right there?” Colt asked, sitting beside her.
“Same as always,” she said drily.
“I can be a good listener.” He nudged her with his shoulder. “Want to talk about it?” He pressed something cold into her hand.
“Not particularly.” Jen narrowed her eyes. “What’s this?”
“A juice box.”
She glanced at him and raised a brow.
He shrugged, mouth twitching. “They were out of beer and it was the easiest thing to grab. It’s grape.”
They unwrapped their straws and drank their juice in silence. “Not as refreshing as a beer, but pretty good, huh?” He laughed at her nod and shook his head slowly, saying, “How things have changed.”
Jen stilled, a trickle of dread creeping through her at his thoughtful expression. Things had begun to change. No matter how much she tried to forget.
Jen longed to lay her head on his chest again. To feel the warm swell of emotion when he touched her. And she longed for the feeling of family she’d experienced this afternoon. The carefree sound of Margaret’s laughter earlier had her palms itching to grab another kite and chase it across the field again. To feel that surge of affection when Margaret smiled, and savor the comforting squeeze of her small hand inside Jen’s own.
Jen frowned. It was Raintree’s doing. The family atmosphere had stirred an ache of homesickness through her blood, prompting her to call home for the first time in ages. And the strengthening attraction she shared with Colt, plus the new connection she’d formed with Margaret, threatened to steal her focus from racing and make her forget...
Vegas. Tammy. All the years Jen had spent apart from her mother. Everything she’d sacrificed so far. How ridiculous she’d look if she failed now, all the hard work in vain if she quit.
She froze, realizing that Colt and Margaret had be
come more important than checking stats and training. More important than winning and earning a name for herself. And every day she spent at Raintree threatened to derail her resolve to return to the circuit.
“I need to compete,” Jen said, dropping the juice box. “I checked the stats last night and I’m twelfth now.”
Colt’s smile melted away. “Twelfth’s not bad, Jen.”
“It’s only four ranks away from not making the cut for Vegas and it’ll keep dropping the longer I sit out.” She straightened. “There’s a competition in Springfield Saturday. There’s a big pot and winning would really help me climb again.”
Colt frowned and propped his elbows on his knees. “The boys’ birthday is tomorrow.” He rotated the juice box slowly between his strong hands, watching it turn. “Meg’s looking forward to the party and we’d planned to stay until at least noon on Sunday.”
“She won’t miss the party. Springfield is only a three-hour drive from here, so I can wait until Saturday morning to leave.” Jen hesitated, dragging her teeth over her bottom lip and wincing at the guilt rising within her. “I’ll come back to Raintree Saturday night and stay Sunday if you want. But after that, I’ve got to get back on the road. I’m losing my position and I need the wins.” She touched his forearm, resisting the urge to wrap her fingers around it, and whispered, “You promised, Colt.”
He glanced up, his troubled eyes roving slowly over her face. “I did promise, didn’t I?” A tight smile appeared and he reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and brushing his knuckles gently over her cheek. “Okay, Red. We’ll go to Springfield Saturday.”
Jen pulled away and looked at the sky, trying to ignore the warm press of Colt’s arm against her own and the pleasant sensations fluttering in her chest. She avoided any further conversation, concentrating on the race and the fact that Colt had agreed to make the trip with her. And tried not to linger over the painful thought of leaving Margaret the day after.
Chapter Nine
Flirty Fuchsia or Romantic Rose?
Jen stood in the middle of the bedroom, reading the label on a tube of lipstick in each hand. Flirty Fuchsia was more a light shade of pink than purple, so it was always a good fit with her warm skin tone. But the red in Romantic Rose matched her hair exactly and really made her lips pop—
Wait. Jen clenched her fists around the lipstick tubes. This is a children’s birthday party. An outdoor movie night with mosquitoes, gnats and squealing toddlers running all over the place. It was not a flirty or romantic occasion. And it certainly wasn’t an opportunity to tempt Colt into touching her again...
I was wrong about the way I left things between us and I want to hear what you think. See if we can work out a way to move forward together.
She sighed as she recalled Colt’s words, her cheek tingling from the remembered feel of his fingers brushing against her skin. It’d been almost a day since they’d sat in the hayloft, sipping from juice boxes and watching the stars, but she still couldn’t shake the effect he had on her. Which made it harder than ever to forget the night they’d spent together, and even more difficult to keep her distance from him.
On more than one occasion this morning, she’d found herself inching closer to Colt’s side as they’d watched Margaret ride Destiny across the field, his sister’s trust in the horse having increased tremendously.
And Jen’s pulse had tripped every time she’d caught Colt’s eyes lingering on her mouth as they’d blown up balloons for the boys’ birthday party.
Which, she reluctantly acknowledged, might account for why she was so dang fixated on which shade of color would dress up her lips more, when she should be focused on prepping for the race in Springfield tomorrow night. The one that could make or break her ability to hold on to her spot in the top fifteen.
“Vegas,” she whispered, shaking her head.
That was where her attention needed to be. Not on Colt. No matter how tempted she was to give in to his suggestion to reconsider their relationship.
“Wow! You look really pretty, Ms. Jen.”
Margaret flicked the light off in the en suite bathroom and walked over, her eyes widening as they drifted over Jen.
A familiar affection stirred within Jen. She and Margaret had had a rough start sharing the guest room. The girl’s snores and Jen’s fondness for long soaks in the tub had caused irritation for both of them. But a pair of earplugs and a daily bathroom schedule had solved those problems the second day, and Jen had enjoyed Margaret’s company the rest of the week.
No. More than that. Whispers and giggles with Margaret each evening had become endearing, and sneaking a glimpse of Margaret peacefully sleeping first thing in the morning had become a pleasant start to each day.
Margaret reached out, touching Jen’s sleeveless turquoise blouse, then rubbed the silky material between her thumb and forefinger. “I like this,” she said.
“Thank you.” Jen smiled, admiring Margaret’s ruffled tank top and dressy jeans. The pink butterflies sewn below the pockets matched her designer boots. “You look nice, too. I like what you’ve put together.”
Margaret grinned, stuck her arms out and spun in a circle, her long hair swinging in a wide arc. “Ms. Trudy said it’s authentic—”
“Western wear,” Jen finished for her, laughing. “Indeed, it is.”
Margaret stopped spinning and eyed Jen’s hands. “What’s that?”
Jen showed her. “Lipstick.” She shook her head. “Not that there’s any real need for it.”
Margaret sprang forward and plucked the tubes from her hands, then uncapped each one. “Oh, I like this one better,” she gushed, thrusting out the Romantic Rose and eyeing Jen’s mouth.
Jen hesitated. Romance should not be on the agenda tonight. But the thought of sharing a few more precious moments with Colt was tempting. And the excited gleam in Margaret’s eyes won out.
Jen faced the dresser mirror and swept the color over her lips, trying not to smile as the little girl poked her head in close, her face appearing in the reflection.
Margaret’s brown eyes tilted upward, clinging to the movements of Jen’s hand.
Jen finished applying the lipstick, rubbed her lips together a few times, then glanced at Margaret. “There. How does it look? Is it even?”
She nodded, smiling. “Can I wear some?”
Jen shook her head. “I think this color is a bit too dark for you.”
Margaret’s features fell. “Okay,” she whispered.
“But,” Jen said, digging out a slim tube from her makeup bag on the dresser, “I have a lip gloss that I think would suit you perfectly.”
Margaret’s face brightened and she took it eagerly, taking off the cap and smiling at the tinted stick. “It’s pink.”
“Yep. Give it a try.”
Margaret stepped close to the mirror, parted her mouth and made careful sweeps across her lips, mimicking Jen’s movements exactly.
When finished, she put the top back on and looked up at Jen. “How’s that?”
Jen smiled. “Perfect.”
“Can I have some blush, too?” Margaret’s hands shot out for the makeup bag. “And eye shadow and mascara?”
“Oh, no.” Jen laughed, squatting in front of her and stilling her hands. “Let’s not get carried away.” She squeezed the girl’s fingers. “You’re naturally beautiful. Besides, you’ve got a lot of years to wear all that stuff and it can become a real aggravation after a while. So let’s not rush it, okay?”
“Does it aggravate you? Putting on makeup?”
“Yep,” Jen said. “So does tweezing and waxing and conditioning...” She shrugged. “And all the other ten thousand things a woman does to look nice. Men have it easy and most of them don’t even appreciate it.” She wrinkled her nose. “The stinkers.”
Margaret giggled and fiddled with a ruffle on her shirt. “Do boys like makeup on a girl?”
Jen smothered a grin at the pink flush blooming on Margaret’s cheeks. Though she and the boys had played together as a trio over the past week, Margaret had begun to stick slightly closer to Kayden’s side than Jayden’s.
“Are you asking about a certain boy in particular?”
She shook her head rapidly, her hair spilling over her shoulders. “N-no. I was just wondering, you know?”
“I see.” Jen tapped a finger under Margaret’s chin and met her eyes. “A girl shouldn’t make decisions based on what a boy wants. It’s not important whether a boy likes a girl wearing makeup or not. What’s important is whether or not she likes to wear it. Sometimes I like to put it on and sometimes I don’t.”
Margaret’s eyebrows rose. “But you wanted to wear it tonight, right?”
Jen’s face heated, her belly flipping at the thought of Colt’s gaze lingering on her lips. She was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to feel his mouth touching hers again, regardless of what regrets tomorrow might hold. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I guess I did.”
Margaret’s smile returned. “I did, too.”
“Well, that’s all that matters then.” Jen stood, ducked her head to hide her burning cheeks and zipped the makeup bag.
“Colt said he’s taking you to a race tomorrow,” Margaret said, leaning against the dresser and examining her boots.
“Yep.” Jen put on a pair of stud earrings, then grabbed a comb and made adjustments to a few wayward strands of Margaret’s hair. “In Springfield.”
“Is that far away?”
Jen’s hand paused over a blond curl. Margaret’s question was so faint she barely caught it.
“Not too far,” she said, putting the comb down and ignoring the uneasiness in her middle. “Colt has already talked to Mrs. Cissy about taking care of you while we’re gone tomorrow afternoon, and we’ll be back after you go to bed.”
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