“So he let her leave? With me?”
“That was the deal. He took Andie, she got you.”
“Parent Trap was cute and funny, and it had a happy ending. My parents really did this to their children.” As if they were property, as if their feelings hadn’t mattered.
“I know.” Her grandmother’s voice was soft, unlike her image in those tie-dyed clothes.
And now the most difficult question. “How did they decide who kept whom? Why did he keep Andie?”
Etta sighed. “Andie wouldn’t have survived your mother.”
Alyson shook her head. Did that make her a survivor? Did they honestly see her as the strong one? When she looked at those pictures of Andie, smiling, laughing on the back of a horse, and then she thought of her own childhood, she didn’t get that.
Andie looked stronger than Alyson had ever felt.
“How is Andie?”
“Andie’s good. She’s a free spirit, going all over the country, from rodeo to rodeo. She’s going to love you, though.”
The empty space in her heart grew and there didn’t seem to be a way to fill it. This could have been her world, her life, and instead she had been her mother’s prized possession, but never a daughter—that position had gone to her younger siblings.
Alyson’s childhood had been spent performing. She had been paraded on programs, on stages, where they would test her with a song and then she’d play it. She remembered them trying to trick her, to break her with a song she might not know.
She had worn the responsibility of not letting her parents down, not letting her family down.
“We’ll work through this, Alyson. I want you here, and you can stay as long as you’d like.” Etta smiled big. “Honey, you can stay forever if that’s what you want. It’s whatever you decide.”
Alyson could decide. Of course she could, but she also knew that there were obligations looming that she couldn’t avoid. Sooner or later she would have to return to her life.
But for now, Alyson Anderson was Alyson Forester and that required a change.
“Do you think we could go shopping?”
Etta smiled. “Honey, now you’re speaking my language.”
As they turned to walk out of the room, the kitten shot past them, a ragged little feline with cobwebs on his whiskers.
“I can’t believe you brought that animal into my house.”
“He’s cute, though.”
Etta laughed. “Mangy is never cute. Now don’t let me forget that we need comfortable shoes if we’re going to work at Camp Hope.”
The shift in conversation took Alyson by surprise. “When do we do that?”
“Next week.” Etta grabbed her purse and keys that she’d dropped on the table just inside the front door. “We’ll stop by later and talk to Jenna and Adam.”
As they walked out the door, Alyson was thinking of Camp Hope, then her thoughts turned to Jason Bradshaw. She wanted him to remember her, because memories shouldn’t be one-sided.
Jason landed wrong when he jumped out of his truck at Camp Hope. Too bad the pills he’d taken for his head weren’t going to undo this. He leaned against his truck and flexed his leg, grimacing at the pull in his knee. He had more problems with his body than someone thirty years older than him. Or that’s what the doctor had said the last time Jason had kept an appointment.
And with that verdict the doctor had also told him it was about time for him to think about retiring from bull riding. Jason shrugged off the advice, and didn’t want to think about it, even now.
He limped away from his truck and started toward the dorm where Clint and Adam were working. Clint was on the ladder. Distracted, Jason didn’t see the two boys running toward him until they hit him head on, wrapping six-year-old arms around his waist and nearly knocking him off his feet.
“Whoa, guys, what’s up?” He hugged them close and they did what they’d always done, each claimed a leg to hug and he would walk with them holding tight.
“We’ve missed you.” Both boys shouted. This must be what a sugar high looked like.
“I missed you guys, too. But did you maybe have too much candy today?” He stopped, grimacing because they were heavier than when they started this game a few years back. “Do you think you could give an old guy a break and walk with me today?”
They let go of his legs and sat back on the ground, star ing up as if he’d lost his mind. “Do we gotta?” David asked.
“Yeah, sorry guys, today we gotta.” He held out his hands and the two grabbed, one on each hand. “Where is everybody?”
As in their parents, Jenna and Adam, and their uncle Clint.
“They have to get this place ready for kids.” Timmy, always the mimic.
“They’re fixing the roof of the dorm.” David, more serious and quiet. “Cleaning, guttering.”
“Let’s head that way. Maybe they need my help.”
“You won’t remember, will you?” Timmy asked. “Because you’ve damaged stuff inside your head.”
“Yeah, I guess I have.”
A truck pulled down the drive of Camp Hope. Beth. What in the world would she be doing there? The camp was too much like church for his sister’s comfort.
“Is that Beth?” David stood next to him, leaning in slightly, his bare feet scrunching in the dirt.
“Yeah, it’s Beth.”
“Are you serious?” Timmy shouted. “She wouldn’t come near here with a ten-foot pole.”
Jason laughed, because that was pretty close to right. “Let’s see what she wants.”
“Do we hafta?” Timmy pulled loose from his hand. “We kind of wanted to play with tanks and stuff, or maybe play with you. But we don’t want to talk to a girl.”
“Fine, I’ll catch up with you.” Jason headed back in the direction of his sister. She was getting out of her truck and looked about as happy as Timmy had. “What’s up, Sis?”
“Antibiotics?”
“Antibiotics?”
“For my horse. You were going to pick them up and bring them home. You drove past the house, so I thought I’d better run over here and see if you remembered.”
If he remembered. He rubbed a hand over his face and tried to think back, to the remembering part. Nothing. He closed his eyes and worked backwards, retracing where he’d been. And he could only remember one thing, lavender and roses.
“Jason, this isn’t good. You really need to go back to the neurologist.” Beth walked him over to his truck. “I’ll go with you.”
“I know you would.” He opened the door of the truck as his phone rang. Beth climbed in, he took the call. As she hunted through his truck, he walked away.
Beth chased after him, catching him as he ended the call.
“Who was that?” She held the antibiotics up for him to see. “You remembered.”
“That’s good to know.” He slipped the phone into his pocket. “That was Roy Cummings. He wanted to know how I’m feeling and if I plan on getting back on tour.”
“You can’t.” Beth shook her head. “Jason, you can’t be thinking about it, can you?”
“I don’t know. What else can I do, Beth? I’m a bull rider.”
“You’re a bull rider who suffered a serious head injury. You could get hurt worse. You could…”
Jason hugged her. “I know what could happen. I’ve talked to the sports medicine team. I’ve talked to the neurologist. My short-term memory is damaged, Beth. I know all that. But I also know that I can’t throw it all away without trying to fight back.”
“Why do you need this so much?” Beth glanced over her shoulder at a car coming up the drive. “Seriously, Jason, you have your ranch. You have this community.”
Jason couldn’t give her the answer she wanted.
All his friends were settling down, having families and building lives. And he couldn’t remember going to the store for his sister.
A car pulled up the drive and parked. Etta’s car. He couldn’t remember the name of the woman get
ting out of the passenger’s side. But he knew her.
“Is that the reason you had to go to Etta’s this morning?”
He had no trouble remembering his sister, standing there staring at him, a smirk of a smile on her face. He pulled the paper out of his pocket and glanced over it, at the note telling him to go to the feed store and at the bottom of the page, the name Alyson.
“Yeah, I think so. That’s Alyson. She’s Etta’s granddaughter.”
“Some things haven’t changed. You can still remember a woman’s name.” She watched Etta and her granddaughter. “But since she’s with Etta, I think you should be careful. Break her heart and Etta will break your neck.”
“You think?”
“I’m pretty sure of it. Did you know that someone bought the old church on Back Street?”
“I guess I didn’t know that.”
The church they had attended with their mother. It had been closed down for years. People had left the small country church behind, looking for more. If he closed his eyes, he could remember in detail the inside of that old building. He could remember how it felt to sit next to his mom and sing “In the Garden.”
The fact that church interested his sister was more of a surprise than the fact that someone had bought the building. Their father had jerked her out of church about ten years ago and she hadn’t been back. Now he thought she stayed away because of the recent past, not the distant.
“The sign in front of it says Sold.” She looked up at him, and then glanced back at Etta. “She looks like Andie.”
“She’s Andie’s sister. I think they might be twins.” He glanced down and smiled. “How’s that for short-term?”
“Good. When did Etta get home?”
“I didn’t say the memory was perfect.” He pointed to his head. “Remember, head injury.”
“You need a keeper.”
“I’m starting to realize that.” He definitely needed someone to keep him on track until his memory returned to normal. If it ever did. He paused at that thought. Not long enough to let it get to him. He was an expert at not letting things get to him. “Are you here to work?”
“You know I’m not. Jas, do you want me to drive you home?”
“Why would I need that?”
“You look pale and you’re limping.”
“I’m good.”
“Yeah, you’re always good.” She hugged him. “I’m heading home. Call if you need me.”
She took the paper from his hand and wrote on it. “In case you forget.”
“I won’t forget.”
As she walked away, he turned back to Etta and Alyson. Something had changed. He studied the woman in worn jeans, a T-shirt and flip-flops. He didn’t remember her being like that. He remembered cashmere. And pink.
Of course Alyson’s grandmother led her directly to Jason Bradshaw. In the few hours the two had spent together, Alyson had learned that her grandmother did her own thing.
On the way to Grove, they had talked about how a younger Etta had backpacked across Europe, lived in a commune during the early seventies, and then found Jesus in a real way and settled in Dawson with Henry Forester.
He died when her children were young and she started a business making tie-dyed clothing.
And now she was making a beeline for Jason Bradshaw, holding tight to Alyson’s wrist, as if she thought her granddaughter might try to escape. And Alyson couldn’t lie and say the thought hadn’t crossed her mind.
“What is it we need to do here, at the camp?” Alyson thought her question might pull her grandmother back and get her on track.
“Well, we’re going to check on Jason and then we’re going to ask Jenna and Adam what we can do to help them get started next week when the first campers arrive.”
“I see.” Alyson had never been to camp, and now she was going to volunteer at one.
“Jas, honey, are you here to work?”
“I think I probably am.” He winked at Alyson. She looked away, scanning the camp, the buildings, the fields.
“There’s Jenna and the guys.” Etta pointed to a woman with a round belly. There were two men with her. One had a protective arm around her waist. The other was stepping onto a ladder.
“She sure looks pretty pregnant.” Etta smiled at Jason, not at Alyson. “Adam’s a lucky guy.”
“I’m happy for them, Etta.”
“I know you are, but a few of us thought…”
He limped ahead of them, ignoring her grandmother’s unspoken question about what people thought. But Alyson wanted to know. What had people thought? Had there been something between Jason and Jenna?
“They were only friends,” Etta answered. “I just don’t know what’s wrong with that boy. He’s never had a serious relationship. Always been that way.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to get serious with anyone.” It made sense to Alyson. So did changing the subject, but something else she’d learned about her grandmother was that Etta was relentless.
“Well, that doesn’t even make sense. Of course he wants to get serious with someone.” Etta made a face, drawing in her brows and scrunching her mouth and nose. “Why aren’t you married?”
“I…”
“Well?”
“I was engaged.”
“I see.” Etta stopped walking. “Is that why you’re here?”
“No, not really. I mean, it’s part of it. I wanted to find you.”
“And you wanted to find a place to hide. We’re more than a shelter in the storm, Alyson, we’re your family. We’re going to be here, even when the storm passes. Make sure you remember that.”
Alyson nodded. “I know. And I’m not here to hide. I’m here because I found you.”
As they approached the group gathered at the corner of the dorm, Jason spoke to the woman, and then glanced toward Alyson and Etta. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he looked away, and he looked uncomfortable.
“Etta, you’re back.” The woman, round and pregnant, hugged Alyson’s grandmother.
“Well, of course I am. I had a surprise waiting for me.” Etta slipped an arm through Alyson’s. “Honey, this is Jenna, her handsome husband Adam Mackenzie. And that guy on the ladder is her brother, Clint.”
“Nice to meet you all.”
“Are you here for long?” Jenna spoke, her hand going to her belly.
“I’m not sure.”
Etta shot her a look that questioned her answer, but Alyson couldn’t explain. How could she give answers when she had no idea what her future held? She couldn’t explain to her grandmother about her fears.
For a little while she wanted to be a girl from Dawson. She might want to be that person forever. But wanting didn’t undo the realities of her life and a schedule that couldn’t be undone.
Jason smiled at her, making her answer okay. He winked and his hand went to the ladder, shaking it a little, distracting the people looking at her, waiting for answers. Clint Cameron grabbed the edge of the roof that he was working on.
“Give a guy a break when he’s standing on a ladder.”
Jason looked up, pushing his hat back. “Sorry, Clint, just making sure it’s steady.”
“Right.” Clint took another step up the ladder. “Try to hold it steady.”
“Jenna, we’re here to volunteer.” Etta stepped closer to the group, pulling Alyson with her. “I know you’ve got camp starting on Monday. If you need unskilled labor, Alyson and I will be here.”
“We can always use help.” Jenna’s smile was sweet, and she held on to her husband as if he was the best thing in the world. “I know that I’m not going to be a lot of use, so we could really use kitchen help.”
“Kitchen would be great.” Etta wrapped an arm around Alyson’s shoulders and squeezed. “It’ll be fun, won’t it?”
Alyson made a weak attempt at smiling and Jason laughed. He shot her a look and shook his head. “I don’t know if you want her in your kitchen.”
“Why is that?”
<
br /> “I don’t remember a lot, but I do remember putting out a fire in Etta’s kitchen.”
“Kittens, fires—what in the world kind of trouble are you going to drag out of your hat tomorrow?” Etta asked, still holding Alyson close.
“I’m sure she can think of something.” Jason held the ladder as Clint climbed down.
“Are you going to work in the kitchen?” Alyson directed the question at Jason, who was standing by the ladder, pretending it wasn’t holding him up. She knew that it was. She had him figured out. He deflected to keep the focus off him.
She had realized a long time ago that she learned more watching than she did talking.
“I’m not sure what I’ll be doing.” Jason stepped away from the ladder.
“Are you going back on tour when the doctor gives you the okay?” Clint asked as he pulled off work gloves. “We could really use your help here, with the junior rodeo at the end of camp.”
Jason shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about it. If I can go on tour, I probably will. I need to get on some practice bulls and see how it feels. Or I might try some smaller, local events.”
“You can’t,” Jenna spoke up and Alyson wanted to agree, even if it wasn’t her business. “Jason, come on, is it really worth it?”
“Jenna, I don’t have a family. I’m a bull rider.”
“I hope you’ll think about this,” Jenna spoke softly, and then seemed to let it go.
Alyson listened but she wasn’t going to comment on someone else’s career, not when her own was going down the drain fast. And she didn’t want them to know that she’d fed her curiosity about Jason Bradshaw.
She’d used her computer to search his name and in formation about his accident. He’d been unconscious when they took him from the arena. He hadn’t regained consciousness for twelve hours. He had suffered a traumatic brain injury with symptoms that included short-term memory loss, headaches and dizziness.
He was the kind of person who faced his fears. She had never been that type of person.
But she was here, she reminded herself. She was in Oklahoma. She had left Boston, driven for two days, and made it here. She hadn’t asked anyone’s opinion, hadn’t cleared it with anyone. She had just left.
The Cowboy's Courtship Page 5
