by Susan Fox
“Jess?” His eyes, a startling blue-green against his tanned skin, looked concerned. “You all right? You’ve gone quiet on us.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’ve stopped shoveling food down your throat at the speed of light.”
“Just tired.” She jumped to her feet. “Is everyone finished? I’ll clear the table; then we can have some of Mom’s fabulous apple pie, à la mode.”
Without waiting for answers, she began to gather dishes. Oh God, surely she wasn’t falling in love with him again. She couldn’t let that happen. There was too much at stake, too much she was hiding. But how could she prevent it?
For the rest of the meal, she avoided meeting Evan’s eyes, which was difficult when he sat directly across from her. She ate pie and drank coffee and wished he hadn’t come. Almost as much as she wished he would stay forever. But when her mother said, “Now tell us, is New York everything you dreamed of?” his enthusiastic and long-winded response told her exactly how likely that was.
Feeling depressed, she said, “It’s getting late. Evan, I’ll drive you back.”
He turned to her mother. “Miriam, let me help with the dishes. If you’ll remember, I wield a wicked dish towel.”
“I wouldn’t think of it. But Evan, do come back again if you have the time. Our door is always open to you.”
Her father seconded the invitation.
Jess stood in the doorway, watching them. If only, if only, if only . . .
Her father shook Evan’s hand warmly and her mother gave him a big hug.
“Come on,” Jess said abruptly. “Let’s hit the road.”
As Jess started up the truck, her motions were jerky. Evan felt a buzz of tension in the air and couldn’t figure out whether it was positive or negative. He had to talk to her about Gianni, but first they both needed to relax. He looked for a neutral topic of conversation. “I’m sorry I didn’t meet Robin.”
The truck lurched as Jess’s foot slipped on the gas pedal.
“She sounds like quite a girl,” he added.
She was concentrating on the road, her hands gripping the wheel tightly. “She’s wonderful. Dave and I are lucky.”
Lucky. He’d bet they hadn’t felt that way when they were teenagers and found out Jess was pregnant. He thought about his own sheer terror when he’d realized the condom had split that night he and Jess made love, and the incredible relief when Jess had written that she was okay.
“This isn’t any of my business. . . .” he started.
“But that’s not going to stop you, is it?”
“It must have been a shock, finding out you were pregnant.”
“You can say that again.”
“Did you consider abortion?”
“No!” Her eyes flashed his way, and then she turned her head back to the road. “I wanted that baby.”
“And Dave did, too? Or was he just doing the right thing?”
Her lips curved up. “He was wonderful. He said he wanted to marry me and be the baby’s father.”
“Not to split hairs, but he was already the father. Whether he married you or not. Paternity isn’t something you can just . . . undo.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Her voice had an edge. It lost it when she went on. “But don’t you see, he was there for me. He was the best friend I could have wished for.”
It struck Evan as a pretty odd way to describe the man she loved, the man who had fathered her baby and married her. Yet when he saw her profile in the dim light, the glow on her face told the story.
“You and Dave still love each other.” Why did the idea make him unhappy? Stupid to be jealous when he and Jess would never be more than friends.
“Yup, we do. Jeez, Ev, he was my husband. He was there when Rob was born, holding my hand and coaching me all the way. It was the greatest night of my life, and I shared it with him. We both cried when we saw her. He’s always been there for me. He’s the dearest man in the world. Well, him and Pa.”
Once, he’d been on that list. But he sacrificed his place when he bolted in fear ten years ago. “I can’t believe you weren’t shattered when he dumped you for Anita.” His words were crude, but he was feeling pretty damned crude.
She ignored his rudeness and said calmly, “I already told you about that.”
“Yeah, yeah. A once-in-a-lifetime kind of love. Generous of you. But he had a daughter.”
“Robin knows how much we both love her. Dave and I share custody. It’s completely amicable.”
“You’re too darn civilized. It doesn’t seem natural.”
She laughed. “To me it’s perfectly natural that two people who loved each other would keep some part of that love even if they split up. It always seems weird to me that people can go from love to hate in an instant when they divorce. They couldn’t have really loved each other in the first place.”
He shook his head. “You have a unique way of looking at things.” He gazed out the window at the country night, marveling at the absence of streetlights and traffic.
“It was incredibly hard on Dave when Anita died,” she said.
Reflecting on that, he said, “Yeah, it must be horrible to watch someone die when you love them that much.”
“Yes, but . . . it seems to me you count your blessings for having known them, and you store up all the memories to treasure forever. But I guess that’s another of my odd little theories. It didn’t work that way for Dave. It’s like something inside him—his spirit—died along with her.”
He had to ask, “Would you consider getting back with him if he could get over the damage?”
She took a moment before she answered. “No. We make good friends, but that’s it.”
“You’re friends with him and you want to be friends with me. Jess, don’t you ever want something more?”
Again, she was quiet for a bit. “Sometimes. But I don’t want to be in a relationship again unless it’s the kind Dave had with Anita. And that kind hasn’t come my way.” She paused, glanced in his direction. “Ev, is that what you have with Cynthia?”
He didn’t have to think before he answered. “It’s not what I want, Jess. I’m not the same kind of person as you. You’re ruled by your heart and I’m ruled by my head. So is Cynthia. That’s how we like it.”
“Mmm. I guessed you’d say that. But I wonder if you’re selling yourself short, and her as well. You do have a heart, Ev. I don’t think it’s that you can’t feel things deeply, it’s that you won’t let yourself.”
“Not everyone wants to live on an emotional roller coaster,” he said curtly. She should consider herself damned lucky she’d always been surrounded by loving people, and never had her heart snapped around like a yo-yo, the way he had with Brooke. Christ, even the ex who’d dumped Jess still loved her in his fashion.
She glanced his way, then determinedly back at the road. “When you were a kid, the only way to survive was to avoid caring too much. If your father was mean to you or your mom ignored you, you told yourself you didn’t care. Emotion meant hurt so you learned to turn it off.”
Whatever. “It seems to me that was a pretty good lesson to learn.”
“But, Ev, emotion can also mean joy, love, the greatest feelings in the world. You don’t let yourself experience those things.”
Let himself? She was making it sound like he had a choice, like people were throwing joy and love at him every day, and he was choosing to dodge. She had no idea what his life was like. “This is who I am,” he snapped. “There’s no reason to change. I’m happy.”
“Are you?”
“Yes! I’ve got everything I ever wanted. Great career, great girlfriend, great life in Manhattan.”
“Do you have seconds when you have supper with Cynthia? Do you laugh with your friends in Manhattan the way you laughed at my folks’ house?”
No, he fucking didn’t, damn it. He glared at her. “What are you saying? That I should stay here because I’ll feel more . . . alive in Hicksville?” The mome
nt he said the words, he knew that in some ways they were true. But only in some ways.
“No. Just that . . . maybe you’re not hanging out with the right people or doing the right things in Manhattan. I know you love the place, but it seems to me you’re shortchanging yourself. Emotionally.”
“You’re a fine one to speak. Your most meaningful relationship is a platonic friendship with your ex. And you tell me I’m playing it safe.”
“I—”
Ten minutes ago, his goal had been to help both of them relax, and now the cab of the truck was filled with even more tension. He had to tell her about Gianni, but how could he raise the subject now? Jess didn’t speak either as she drove toward the Crazy Horse.
Although they were on the highway, traffic was sporadic. It wasn’t dark in the cab of the old truck; the dashboard instruments provided a dim light and the headlights of oncoming vehicles strobed them occasionally. Even so, he could see the stars.
In Manhattan it never got dark at night. The city lit up the sky. New York City was that dynamic. Here, the stars and moon provided the night light and the country faded away under that brilliant canopy. It was a different kind of vitality than in the Big Apple, but it had its own energy. Serene rather than frenetic.
Why hadn’t he noticed the stars when he was a kid? Probably because he hadn’t wanted to see anything good about Hicksville. But now, despite the heated exchange with Jess, he was admiring the stars.
He wondered if Brooke, too, had learned to appreciate the stars.
He turned to Jess. “If she finally got it together, why did she stay here?”
She glanced toward him. “Huh? Oh, your mother.”
“Brooke hated the country. She and my father were from L.A. She said she was a city girl through and through. She was furious with him for making such a mess of their lives. You knew he joined the US Army, right, then deserted? And that’s why they came to Canada. We lived in all these little towns, he kept getting bottom-end jobs and losing them, and then we hit Caribou Crossing, and for some reason we stayed. But Brooke hated it.” If he’d had a dime for each time she’d complained about Caribou Crossing, he’d have had enough money to pay his way through university.
“So,” he went on, “if she got her act together, why didn’t she move? She could be a hairdresser in L.A.”
“Beauty consultant.”
He raised his eyebrows. Jess couldn’t have seen him because she was focused on the road, but she responded anyhow. “Have a little respect, Ev. She does her job well, and it’s more than being a hairdresser. Lots of women—and men—feel better about themselves because of her. She may not be a high flyer like you, but she’s doing something people value.”
Jess sent him a challenging look and he knew she was thinking about the dinner conversation, when he’d said he mostly made rich folks richer. Yeah, where did he get off looking down on his mother’s work, or on Jess’s impractical dreams? He’d thought he had it made, but tonight he’d realized for the first time that his successful career wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
If he told Cynthia that, she wouldn’t get it.
Jess’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “I didn’t know your mom had been so fond of big cities. Didn’t know she’d hated the country. I never realized that’s where you got it from.”
“I . . .” He’d never thought of it that way. In his mind, he’d rejected everything about his mother. Tonight was sure as hell an evening for uncomfortable revelations.
She shrugged. “Anyhow, when Brooke cleaned up her life, I never heard her talk about moving to a city and looking for work. When I spoke to Auntie Kate—”
“You spoke to your aunt?” he interrupted.
“Well, yeah. I knew your mom was turning her life around. I figured someone ought to give her a chance. Auntie Kate has a big heart and—”
“And so do you, Jess Bly,” he said with a shake of his head. He couldn’t decide whether to be grateful or annoyed she’d helped his mother.
She ignored the comment. “Brooke seemed happy to take a job here. Maybe Caribou Crossing finally grew on her. Maybe there was nothing left—no one left—for her in L.A. Maybe she didn’t want to tackle a strange city like Vancouver or Seattle. Or New York.” She paused, then said deliberately, “You’d have to ask her.”
When he didn’t respond, she said, “Why do you send her money?”
“What? She told you that?”
“Yes. Checks every six months.”
He shrugged. “She fed and clothed me, provided a roof over my head. I wanted to repay the debt.”
“It’s not debt between a child and his parent.”
“She didn’t want me. She was stuck with me and”—he shrugged—“maybe she did her best. Who knows?” It was another new idea. “God knows why she even kept me rather than let the government take me away. But she did keep me, and she spent money on me. I wanted to repay the money, plus interest. It was my way of finishing it.”
“You must have paid the debt years ago, yet you never called it finished. You kept sending money. And you came back. There are guest ranches all over the country. You chose the Crazy Horse.” Jess gestured and he saw they’d reached the resort sign. She turned down the gravel road.
He’d run out of time. He had to tell her now. If they discussed Gianni and her riding camp proposal now, he could still leave tomorrow with a relatively clear conscience. “Stop the truck for a moment, Jess.”
“Why?” But she obeyed, pulling down the lane to the barn and stopping in the yard.
Evan took a deep breath, knowing everything was going to change. “It wasn’t Brooke who brought me back. And it wasn’t that idiotic ten-year plaque, though what I told you about it was true. It was Gianni Vitale.”
“Gianni Vitale? You know Gianni? Oh, did he recommend you come . . .” Her voice trailed off and her eyes widened in shock. Yeah, she was getting the picture.
She groaned and grabbed her head with both hands. “He’s a client of yours.” She glared at him. “I’m an idiot! I should have known. Of course it would be work that brought you back here. Jesus, Evan, you’ve been spying on me!” Her voice screeched upward in anger.
“Yes. Yes to all of it.”
She punched him in the shoulder, not at all gently.
He rubbed the sore spot, guessing he’d have a bruise. “I didn’t know it was you when Gianni asked me to check out TJ Cousins’s proposal. You know that, Jess; you saw how surprised I was on Monday.”
She nodded grimly. “Right. And then you spent the next five days deceiving me.”
“Yes. On Monday I phoned Gianni and told him you and I used to be friends. He wanted me to stay, and to keep you in the dark, and—”
“I hate the both of you!” she spat out.
“Jess, he’s not one of the guests who forgot you as soon as he got home. He and Elena have been talking about your riding camp. But he’s a businessman. He has to check things out. And I’m his investment counselor, so I’m the one to do it for him. I had to honor client confidentiality, but I hated lying to you—”
“Oh, that makes me feel so much better!”
“After a few days I decided I couldn’t do it. I called him and told him so. For the last two days, I’ve been trying to tell you but whenever I said I wanted to talk to you, you were too busy. Remember?”
She gave a grudging nod. “But you didn’t say it was important. I thought you just wanted to chat, and there’d be lots of time for that.”
He had told her it was important. She just hadn’t paid attention. “I’m going home tomorrow.”
“What? But . . . Oh, of course.” Her jaw tightened. “Tonight over supper, you decided the camp was just another of dumb old Jess’s stupid ideas.”
“I never planned on staying this long. I figured a couple of days, tops.”
“Another of your little secrets.”
“For the record, I don’t think you’re dumb. You’re just not always the most businesslik
e person. And I don’t think your idea’s stupid. But you need to do more homework.” He found himself adding, “Maybe I can help you with that.”
“You?” Her voice rasped. “After what you’ve done to me, you think I even want to speak to you again?”
He couldn’t help noticing the way her breasts heaved up and down as she sucked in quick, shallow breaths. “I just thought—” Actually, he hadn’t thought before speaking.
“Get out of this truck, Evan Kincaid. And get out of my life. Go back to Manhattan and tell Gianni to take his millions and invest in some boring stock that’ll make him a bundle more money. Because I know he and Elena will never get as much enjoyment out of that stupid money as they would out of participating in my project!”
She glared at him and he stared back at her. “You may well be right, Jess, but—”
“Get out!”
Her whole body vibrated with anger. Reluctantly, he reached for the door handle. “Are you sure?”
“Ooh!”
It seemed she was.
Chapter Ten
The guests had been told to rise at dawn and assemble in the lodge for a quick muffin and cup of coffee. After that, the plan was to ride for a couple of hours to a viewpoint where they’d be served a trail breakfast. They would eat and relax, then ride home again.
Evan’s own plan had been to check out, get a cab to Williams Lake, and fly home. He’d told Cynthia he wouldn’t be back in time for Saturday dinner, so they planned to get together for brunch on Sunday. He would spend the rest of Sunday in the office.
Instead, after a sleepless night, Evan decided he couldn’t leave now, with matters as they currently stood between him and Jess. He felt terrible about their fight, and knew how hurt and angry she was. Maybe she’d be calmer today, and if he apologized again, surely they could work things out. Evan had lost her friendship once, because he’d given up too easily. He wasn’t about to let it happen again.
