by Susan Fox
Jess and a couple of other guests came to stand beside him. After making enthusiastic comments, people wandered over to collect breakfast, leaving Evan alone with Jess.
She pulled the elastic from her messy ponytail, tossed her head so glossy chestnut waves gleamed in the light, and gave a joyous laugh. “Can you believe they pay me to do this?”
“Sounds like the job’s not so bad.”
“It’s great. But . . .” She stared out at the view, no longer laughing.
“But?” he prompted, studying her familiar profile and thinking she was even lovelier than the view.
She chewed her lip. “I want to achieve my dream.” She turned her gaze on him. “At least I think I do. But then I look at you. You’ve made your childhood dream come true, and yet, last night, I sensed maybe reality can’t measure up to the dream?” She ended on a questioning note that made him reflect.
A couple of days ago his answer would have been easy. He’d had two dreams: his career and the perfect woman. He’d realized both, and they were great.
But yet, neither made him whoop or laugh with joy. At the Crazy Horse he’d learned he had the capacity to experience—and express—pure, uncomplicated joy.
Needing to be honest with Jess, he mused, “I wonder if dreams are moving targets. You think you know what your dream is, but when you get there you find you want something more, or different. Maybe that’s how it has to be, if you’re not going to stagnate.”
She nodded, her brown eyes serious. “That makes sense. When you were talking about your investment work last night, you did sound a little, uh, cynical. But then you talked about that Alzheimer’s facility, and the scholarships for low-income kids, and you came alive.”
She’d seen that? He felt a warm glow at her perceptiveness, and at the realization that yes, there were things in his work that were worth whooping over, now that he’d learned how. He nodded. “I’d like to do more of that kind of work. And I’m thinking of shifting my client base—” He stopped abruptly. He’d barely considered the idea, and if he said it aloud then . . . Well then, he’d darn well have to make it happen.
He smiled at his onetime best friend. “Shifting my client base away from the rich folks. Oh, some of them—like Gianni and Elena—are wonderful and I’ll happily help them make more money, and encourage them to spend some of it on worthwhile, and of course tax-deductible, causes. But I’d like to work with some . . . hmm, let’s see . . .”
“Poor folks?” She tilted her head, curiosity lighting her eyes. “But they don’t have the money to invest.”
“Everyone has money to invest. It’s a matter of priorities. Is your priority a day-to-day lifestyle, or is it something future oriented, like a meaningful—and maybe early—retirement? A good education for your kids?” He grinned at her. “Or starting up a business you’ve always dreamed of?”
She grinned back, her eyes warm with affection and approval. “Evan Kincaid, I think you’ve found a new dream and it’s even better than the old one.”
And this, too, was a moment worth whooping over. Though at the moment, he felt less like whooping and more like tugging her closer and kissing those smiling lips.
Gradually, the smile softened, her lips trembled, and she caught her breath. She’d read his mind. Did she want that kiss as badly as he did?
Suddenly, her head jerked and he became aware the others were calling them. “Time for breakfast,” she said breathlessly.
She turned to walk away, but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “There’s something I need to say.”
She turned back, expression uncertain. “Yes?”
“About that night at Zephyr Lake.”
“Oh!” Her face went pink.
“Thank you.”
“What?” Apparently it was the last thing she’d expected.
He squeezed her shoulder gently, feeling the warmth of her body through her red checked shirt. “For making love with me. Sharing yourself. It was special, and I was a fool not to appreciate that. I do now. I wanted you to know.”
Feeling awkward, yet relieved to have gotten the words out, he dropped his hand and hurried over to the campfire.
It was a few minutes before Jess joined the group. She’d twisted her hair back into a neat tail, and was unusually quiet. But she did shoot him one shy smile, which told him that for once he hadn’t totally screwed things up.
Breakfast was fantastic. Kathy, Will, and Marty turned out piles of buckwheat pancakes, fluffy scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, and sizzling sausages and kept pots of coffee simmering on the fire. There was real maple syrup for the pancakes, rich cream and raw sugar crystals for the coffee, and pitchers of fresh-squeezed orange juice and pineapple juice. Fresh air and exercise had fueled everyone’s appetite. The food disappeared in amazing quantities and the mood was as mellow as Evan had ever experienced.
Satiated and relaxed, he topped up his coffee mug, then wandered over to a rocky outcropping where he could sit and marvel at the landscape spread out beneath him.
After a few minutes he heard footsteps. “Mind if I join you?” Madisun asked.
He glanced up. “Please do.”
She hitched herself up on a stump. “I love this view.”
“I can see why.” Curious, he asked, “Do you ever get tired of this?”
“Not tired, but . . . restless. I haven’t been anywhere, haven’t done anything. And I want to.”
Jess, who had been checking the horses and filling her head with the tang of pine, stepped out from a cluster of trees to see Evan and Madisun. Their backs were to her and they didn’t notice her arrival. She paused, enjoying the picture. Madisun perched on a stump, her knees up and her arms encircling them, long black hair cascading halfway down her back. Evan sprawled on a rock near her feet. He’d taken off the Resistol and the sun-bleached highlights in his hair glistened like the gold that had first attracted miners to this country.
Madisun said, “It must be wonderful to live in Manhattan.”
“It’s a terrific place. It’s vibrant and it truly does never sleep. But Caribou Crossing’s got a lot to recommend it, too.” He waved an arm at the panorama below them.
“Yeah, but it’s the only place I’ve ever lived. And it’s so small town. Like, can you believe my parents actually christened me Mary-Anne? Mary-Anne Joe. I mean, what kind of small-town dorky name is that?”
“Madisun is far more sophisticated,” he agreed.
Jess smothered a laugh, feeling only a little guilty about eavesdropping.
“I picked it because of Madison Avenue. But I spell it with a u, like the sun.”
“Imaginative, and distinct.”
“I’m going down to Vancouver to university next year,” the girl said. “I’m saving up and if I’m really careful I’ll have enough by then.”
“What are you going to study?”
“Haven’t made up my mind yet. I’ll meet with a career counselor once I’m accepted.”
“Hmm. From what I’ve seen, there are a few things about you that stand out. First, you love horses.”
“And I’ll miss them like crazy in the city, but I want more. More of a life than I’ve got now. More than my parents, that’s for sure.” There was bitterness in the girl’s voice and Jess, who knew a little about the family, understood.
“Good for you,” Evan said. “And you can make it happen. From what I’ve seen, you’re organized and efficient, but you’re also warm and personable. People do what you want and don’t realize they’re being handled. You picked that up from TJ?”
The girl nodded emphatically. “She’s taught me so much.”
“Do you have any kind of head for business?”
“Well, I try to handle the money in my house. My parents are . . . hopeless.”
What she wasn’t telling Evan, Jess knew, was that when her father had a job, if Madisun didn’t get her hands on his pay checks, he’d drink up every penny he earned. That left her mom, a high school dropout, with n
othing to feed and clothe the nine kids. Nothing except the money Madisun brought in, which she was trying so hard to save for her education.
“What about business administration?” Evan suggested. “Develop those business skills to go with your people skills, and combine all that with your love of horses.” He grinned up at Madisun. “Get a job managing a place like the Crazy Horse, and maybe own one yourself one day.”
She gasped. “Holy sh—I mean, holy cow. I never even dreamed of it.”
“Dream, Madisun. That’s what I did when I was a teenager. I dreamed my dreams, made them very specific, then went out and made them happen.”
“Wow.” Jess couldn’t see Madisun’s eyes, but guessed there was hero worship in them. The girl said, “You’ve made your dreams come true. That must feel . . . like, wow!”
“Sure.” He paused, and Jess guessed he was revisiting their earlier conversation. “But don’t think it’s just about dreaming. You have to put those dreams together with some concrete planning and hard work. Dreams on their own never make anything happen.”
Jess winced. She’d come across like a nitwit last night when he asked about her no-frills boot camp. She actually did have some concrete ideas, but it was hard for her to verbalize that stuff when Ev was so damned brilliant. And he was right that she hadn’t done as much research as she needed to, but research and finance had never been her strong points.
He’d offered to help.... But nope, that wouldn’t work. She felt too stupid around him.
She straightened her shoulders. She was darn well going to get more businesslike about pursuing her objectives. Evan had given her some ideas and she’d bet Dave would help her follow through. He’d know how to prepare a business plan. She’d find other potential investors and have something solid to offer them.
She backed into the trees, leaving Evan and Madisun alone. It was time to help Kathy, Will, and Marty clear up and load the SUV they’d driven up the gravel road. Then she’d round up the horses and guests and ride back, down the zigzag trail.
Her thoughts turned to the afternoon demonstration with Robin. She hadn’t been able to come up with a good excuse, one that would satisfy Rob, in particular. She’d just have to keep Evan away from her—their—daughter. Thank heavens Rob was staying with Dave this weekend, and would be in a hurry to get back so they could head over to his folks’ place for the barbecue.
After the long ride, a number of the guests went for massages, saunas, or other spa pampering. Evan showered, then sat on the deck of his cabin for an hour. He tilted his chair back, rested his bare feet on the wooden railing, and did not much of anything. The printout of the last e-mail from Angelica sat on the table inside, but he didn’t bother to look at it. He’d deal with it tomorrow on the long flight home.
His bird—he’d verified with Will it was a woodpecker—joined him for a time, busily drilling holes and harvesting insects, and he didn’t envy it its industriousness.
Then he pulled on his boots—which he hadn’t bothered to clean after the morning ride—and ambled toward the barn for another session on horse communication. The concept was catching his interest. At breakfast, Thérèse had shared some things she’d read in Monty Roberts’s book. As a result, several of the guests planned to watch one of the Monty Roberts videos in the lounge after dinner. Evan had thought of buying the book and boning up, but for once was less inclined to read than simply to experience.
When the guests were assembled in the barnyard, Jess led an unfamiliar bay horse from the barn. The horse danced about, hooves never still, eyes rolling.
“This is Nevada,” she said, “and he’s had a sad time of it. He’s wary of people because they’ve taught him he can’t trust them. He’ll learn differently at the Crazy Horse, but it’s a slow process to build trust after someone’s shattered it.”
And yet it seemed Jess had forgiven Evan for his own misdeeds. Yes, she had a generous soul.
She led the horse into a small fenced ring and turned him loose as the guests clustered along the fence.
“Don’t stare a horse in the eye,” Jess said. “It’s not like with humans in Western society, where it’s a sign of self-confidence and respect. With horses, it’s a threat. Predator and prey. Likewise, don’t approach a horse directly. To them, it’s an act of aggression.”
She demonstrated how Nevada shied away when she walked straight toward him, then she went back and approached again, slowly, on a zigzag path.
For the next half hour, Evan watched and listened, intrigued by the idea that each species had its own way of communicating. The concept was obvious, but he’d never spent time thinking about species other than humans. Of course, each human communicated uniquely, too.
Watching Jess with the horse was not only an education but a pleasure. She was in her element, so natural and beautiful that his heart filled with admiration and pride. Unfortunately, his body also pulsed with arousal. Why did that always happen when he was around her? Normally, he could compartmentalize. Sex had its place in his life, and it didn’t intrude at inappropriate times and places.
It never had, not with Cynthia nor any of the other women he’d dated. But with Jess, it was like being back in high school. He was constantly horny.
He was both sorry and relieved when she glanced at her watch and said, “Okay, that’s enough for now. I have to change. Robin’ll be here any moment.” She took Nevada back into the barn.
The guests discussed Jess’s lesson while they waited. Soon a horse appeared, trotting down the road. It was a bay, similar to Jess’s but a little smaller. At first Evan couldn’t make out the figure on its back, except for a cowboy hat. As horse and girl got closer, he saw a fancy embroidered cowgirl shirt above black jeans, but the brim of the hat hid her face.
The girl dismounted in front of them, dropped the reins, and patted her horse’s neck, then came forward. “Hi. I’m Robin, and this is my mare, Concha.”
No lack of confidence, Evan thought. Good for her.
Then she eased the hat off and let it dangle down her back.
His mouth dropped open. It was Jess. Jess at the age of nine. He stared in fascination. No, he could see subtle differences. Robin was taller, and her nose turned up like Miriam Bly’s. But the slender build and athletic way of moving were her mother’s, also the chestnut hair and sparkling brown eyes.
He was moving forward to introduce himself when Jess, dressed in a costume identical to Robin’s, rushed to join the group. “Hi, Rob. Come talk to me a sec.” She put her arm around her daughter’s shoulders and steered her away. “I have a couple of ideas for this afternoon’s exhibition.”
As the full-size and miniature models crossed the barnyard, Evan’s eyes followed them, seeing his old friend in a new light. Slender, fit Jess, who at times looked no older than the girl he remembered, really was a mom, with a pretty, confident daughter.
The two took their horses into the ring, which had been set up with three big barrels in a triangle as well as a dummy of a calf, and the guests leaned against the fence to watch.
Robin was a skilled rider, looking like she’d been born in the saddle as she and her mom raced their horses around the barrels. The dummy calf was automated, moving around and kicking up its heels, and mother and daughter roped its head and its legs, as well as the fence posts around the ring.
As Jess and her daughter interacted, the love between them was obvious, in a way that was as natural as breathing.
He tried to imagine Cynthia with a daughter. Himself with a daughter. Could they be good parents? Jess and Dave had been kids themselves, fresh out of high school. You’d think age and life experience would count for something, but Evan couldn’t bring a picture to mind of him and Cynthia with a baby, a toddler, or a child like Robin.
As soon as the exhibition was over, Robin called, “Bye, folks,” and trotted Concha down the road. Again he’d missed the opportunity to meet Jess’s daughter, and for some reason—especially after having actually seen Robin—he
really regretted not being able to talk to her. There was something compelling about the girl that made him want to get to know her.
Because he was leaving tomorrow, Evan hung back while the rest of the guests headed up the hill and Madisun drove off. Jess turned Nevada out to pasture, did her apple-and-a-hug routine with the old palomino called Pet, and brought Conti in.
She was bridling her horse when he came up beside her. “Your daughter’s a keeper.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, then, for some reason, narrowed. “Dave and I think so.”
“I wish she’d stayed. I’d like to have met her.”
Jess’s eyes narrowed a bit more. He had the sudden impression that she didn’t really want him to meet her daughter.
Or maybe she was just skeptical of his sincerity. After all, he was the guy who’d said he didn’t want kids.
“Rob has a busy day,” she said. “She’s staying with Dave this weekend, and they’re going to his folks’ for dinner.” She finished buckling the bridle and hooked the knotted reins over a post. “I’ll probably go, too. His family’s great.”
Earlier today, he’d felt close to Jess, sensed she’d forgiven him. Now she was being abrupt and distant. He sighed. “Jess, you and Dave manage to be friends. It can’t always have been easy. I know I’m not perfect, I’ve acted like a jerk, but I really hope we can stay in touch and be friends, too. I really missed you, all these years.”
Jess closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them her face softened. “Yeah. Me, too.”
Oh, damn. He hated it when the two of them were at odds, but when they weren’t, the feelings of attraction and arousal snuck up on him. The ones he wasn’t supposed to experience.
She took a deep breath, then let it out. “And, Ev, thanks for saying what you did about that night at the lake. Thanks for understanding what I was doing. I didn’t mean to be dishonest, to manipulate. I just wanted, like you said, to share my feelings with you.”
