Because her life wasn’t about fear, or playing the piano. This was her life, too. She was Alyson Forester. And she knew that, deep down inside, she was strong.
She was strong enough to meet the gaze of a cowboy with a slightly wicked smile and brown eyes that flashed with humor when he winked at her.
Chapter Five
He had to stop flirting with Alyson Anderson. Jason watched her walk away with Etta and Jenna. The three of them were going to the kitchen to talk about what they should expect next week. He didn’t look away, not even when Clint cleared his throat to get his attention.
“If you mess with that, Etta will be on your doorstep with a shotgun,” Adam warned.
“I know.” Jason turned back to the two other men and ignored the strong desire to seek Alyson out, to get to know her better. “What’s up with the camp?”
“We’re going to have a great summer, Jason. We’d really like for you to be part of this.” Adam nodded in the direction of the barns and stable. “Come on out and I’ll show you what we’re working on. Clint?”
“I’m going to get these gutters finished and head home.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Adam started walking and Jason followed.
They stopped at the gate next to the barn. Jason leaned against the top rail and looked out at the field, and then in the direction of the indoor arena.
“You’ve come a long way with this place.”
Jason watched the two dozen horses grazing in the field, cows with calves a short distance away. A little over a year ago, there had been nothing here but a few of the buildings. Adam had arrived to find the place half-finished and the money to finish the rest had been spent by his cousin.
What a difference a year could make.
And a year ago, Jason was working hard, fast on the track for a world title. This should have been his year. It probably would have been, if it hadn’t been for the wreck of the season that ended with him in the hospital for a couple of weeks.
Adam Mackenzie wanted him here, working at Camp Hope. It meant more than people realized. It meant staying, being involved. A guy couldn’t do something like this halfway, without total commitment.
Of course, a guy had to be pretty committed to staying full time on the back of a bull, too.
Maybe he was better at commitment than he realized.
Or maybe it was because bulls weren’t people and didn’t expect much from him.
He figured he was an expert at being detached. He’d learned it from the best, his father. Detachment was not getting too close to a mother that fought cancer for a dozen years. Because Jason had known, even before anyone had said it, that he wouldn’t always have her.
He remembered the little ways he had pushed her out of his life. And now he recognized that he’d been a kid trying to protect himself from being hurt.
She had always pushed right back, insisting on hugging him when he was scared, insisting on being at school programs. Later, close to the end, she had talked to him about not being afraid to love someone.
He shook past that thought because it hadn’t gotten any easier over the years. He’d become an expert at being unattached. There were exceptions, he realized. Beth, of course, his sister had always counted on him. They’d relied on each other.
And Jenna. She had needed a friend and he’d been there for her. And she’d figured out a few of his secrets along the way.
“Adam, this camp is a big deal and you know I want to support you.” Jason let his gaze wander—to the dorms, to the steeple of the open-air chapel.
“Yeah, I know. But we’re looking for more than a check, Jason.”
“Right.” A rangy-looking colt walked up to the fence, inching his nose out. Jason scratched the horse’s face and rubbed its neck. “That’s about the ugliest horse I think I’ve ever seen.”
Adam laughed. “Yeah, he’s Jenna’s favorite. Some spooky mare of hers had this thing last fall.”
“She would like it.” Jason patted the horse’s neck one last time and turned away from the fence. “I’ll do what I can for the camp. I have a doctor’s appointment next week. I’ve got people pressuring me about riding next month. And then I’ve got people telling me I’d be crazy to ride.”
“And the sponsors always have to be happy.” Adam walked next to him, slowing his mammoth stride. “I get that.”
“Yeah, I know you do.”
“I won’t pressure you, I just want you to know that there’s a spot for you if you decide this is where you’re supposed to be.” Adam turned and they started the walk back to the main campus area.
Jenna was waiting for them at the dining hall. The boys were playing on the swing that hung from the oak tree nearby. She watched, but her hand kept going to her belly.
Jason shoved aside the moment of envy. Not because Adam had Jenna, but for what the two of them shared. How could he envy something he had never wanted?
It was the epidemic of love and marriage that was getting to him. Everyone had caught the illness, and he was the last one with any immunity. Cody, Adam, Clint—they were all married now with kids, or kids on the way. Clint and Willow were working on adopting child number two.
There were so many happy-ever-afters, a single guy had to keep his guard up. It kind of gave him the willies when he thought about it.
“How’s your memory?” Adam asked as they sat down on the bench next to Jenna.
“Another reason you wouldn’t want me working with kids. What if I put one on a horse and forgot he couldn’t ride. Or forgot that the horse wasn’t broke.” He tried to smile, as if it were a joke.
Jenna patted his shoulder. “We’ll get you a helper.”
“Thanks.” Jason stretched, straightening his leg out and taking a deep breath when the pain hit. Adam had asked him a question. “My memory is improving, though.”
He had remembered Alyson. More specifically, he remembered her perfume, and a cashmere sweater.
“I should head home.” Jason stood up. “I’ll pray about helping.”
He lifted his hand in farewell and walked across the big lawn toward his truck. He worked up a memory of Alyson in blue jeans, flip-flops and a T-shirt. She hadn’t been dressed like that the day he first saw her.
A memory had never felt so good. But some strange twist to his gut told him the memory was dangerous.
After talking to Jenna, Alyson and Etta stopped at the Mad Cow. Alyson walked through the door of the café with her grandmother. It felt better than it had the previous evenings, when she’d come here alone. This time people smiled. They still stared, but it wasn’t like before when everyone was trying to figure who she was and why she was in their town.
Today she was one of them. Kind of.
And she’d never been that before. At least not like this. She’d been in a group of children who all had spectacular musical gifts, so much so that people would pay to see them, to listen to their music.
“You okay?” Etta gave her a gentle push toward a booth in the corner, pausing for a moment to say hello to a friend and introduce her. And wasn’t it wonderful to have her in town?
Alyson smiled, but her lips trembled and it was hard to breathe.
“Hold it together, kiddo.” Etta whispered as they sat down on opposite sides of the booth.
Alyson blinked to clear her vision. It was the restaurant that caused a little bit of a light-headed feeling. The walls were painted with black-and-white splotches, like the hide of a cow. The booths were black. The tabletops were black Formica. And the tiles on the floor, black and white.
Vera, owner of the Mad Cow, came out of the kitchen carrying an order pad and two menus. She wore black pants, a white top and black-and-white spotted boots.
“Etta, great to have you back in town. And wasn’t this a wonderful surprise? Alyson is back with us. Remember how she loved chocolate ice cream when she was a little thing? Goodness, always neat and tidy, too. And Andie couldn’t ever eat a bowl of ice cream without
getting half of it on her face or clothes.”
Alyson blinked a few times, because last night Vera had been pleasant, but hadn’t shared personal stories with her. Even her grandmother had been vague on personal stories. But this story—maybe it explained why Andie wouldn’t have survived their mother.
“She’s still pretty neat and tidy, Vera.” Etta smiled at Alyson. “But from the looks of my kitchen, cooking isn’t one of her skills.”
“That’s okay. She has other gifts.” Vera patted her shoulder. “What can I get you ladies for supper?”
Alyson started to order a salad, but her grandmother shot her a look. “Good heavens, child, do you really want to eat a salad when you could have Vera’s chicken fried steak, smothered in gravy?”
It sounded like an artery-clogging special to Alyson. But her mouth watered and her body chanted something that sounded like, Must. Have. Carbs.
And she agreed. She nodded. “I’ll take it.”
Vera smiled big and scribbled on the order pad. “Now that’s more like it, sweetheart. A person can’t live on salad alone. You having the same, Etta?”
“No, honey, I’m having her salad.”
Vera laughed. “So, does Andie know her sister is home?”
“I called her this morning.” Etta smiled and Alyson got the impression there was more to the call.
When Vera walked away, Etta stopped smiling. “There’s something you learn in a town like Dawson. You don’t ever give all the facts unless you want everyone to know your business.”
“So what is our business?”
Etta poured sugar in her coffee and stirred it. “I called, but Andie didn’t answer. She doesn’t always.”
“Oh.”
“But she’ll be home. She’ll see my number on the caller ID and she’ll call.” Etta smiled big, as if everything was perfect, but it wasn’t.
Alyson smiled back, but apprehension tugged at her stomach and she couldn’t believe she was about to eat chicken fried steak smothered in gravy.
There were too many thoughts racing through her mind. She was thinking about Andie, about seeing a sister she hadn’t seen since they were not quite three years old. And she couldn’t help but think about Jason Bradshaw.
He was the last thing she should have been thinking about. She’d been dumped a month ago. She’d fallen apart, walking off the stage halfway through a concert, leaving a stunned symphony orchestra trying to pick up the pieces of a shattered performance.
The next day she’d read the article about what how she’d had a nervous breakdown. But she hadn’t. It had been just the opposite. She had finally walked away from something that she should have walked away from years ago.
Jason woke up the next morning with a pretty clear head and notes next to his bed telling him what he needed to do that day. After a cup of coffee, he walked out to the barn. His dad was coming out with an old saddle.
“What do you need me to do today?” Jason glanced at his watch. The notebook had outlined chores at his own place, a trip to town and stopping by Camp Hope.
“I can’t think of a thing.” Buck Bradshaw tossed the saddle into the Dumpster next to the barn. “Been meaning to throw that thing away for ages.”
A thirty-year-old saddle that had belonged to Jason’s mother. The two men didn’t discuss it, just went on. That’s how they dealt with things in their family. Jason’s dad probably hadn’t planned on anyone seeing him throw the saddle in the trash.
But why now? Jason didn’t ask questions. He wouldn’t have gotten answers anyway.
“How you feeling?” Buck paused at the door to the barn.
“Feeling good, Dad.” Jason glanced one last time at the Dumpster. “I need to run into town, get a few things done. If you need me, just call.”
“I’ll do that.”
Jason was heading down the drive when he saw Andie driving toward town, her truck pulling the horse trailer with the living quarters that she spent most of her time in.
He eased onto the road and followed her. Not the best move—he knew that. He should have driven on out to Camp Hope. He had it on his notepad. He had talked to Adam yesterday and promised to pray about working at the camp.
And Alyson’s name was written on the bottom of that page. Etta’s other granddaughter. He hadn’t forgotten her.
He almost wished he could. If he could forget her, he could drive on past Etta’s. He could take a side road that would lead him to Camp Hope and away from a situation that wasn’t going to be pretty.
This had to be from the brain injury, this sudden need to be involved in everything, and his own crazy inability to walk away. It had nothing to do with a woman who reminded him of a summer day, kind of breezy, warm and easy to be around.
She even smelled like a summer day.
She was Andie’s sister. And Andie was about to get the surprise of her life. There was no telling what she’d do when she walked through the doors and saw Alyson in her home, with their grandmother. People assumed life didn’t bother Andie. Jason knew better.
The truck and trailer ahead of him turned into the driveway at Etta’s and pulled down to the barn. He stopped next to the house and got out of his truck. As he walked, Andie jumped down out of her truck. It took him by surprise, how much she looked like her twin. He hadn’t seen it before. They weren’t identical, but they were close.
Andie was tough. She was country, the real deal, with her jeans tucked into leather boots, her T-shirt said something about being raised country. Her soft edges were hidden by a sharp personality, a sharp attitude.
“What are you doing here so early?” She walked back to the end of the horse trailer, sprang the latch and then flipped up the bar that kept the doors safely latched.
“Saw you driving by.” Thought she might need a friend. He doubted that now.
“Cool.” She walked into the empty side of the trailer, down to the end, where her horse was tied. She pulled the lead rope and freed him. “Back up.”
The horse obeyed. When he backed out of the trailer, Andie had the lead rope. Her gaze shifted, to the back door of the house. Her eyes widened. Jason waited.
“What’s she doing here?” Those were Alyson’s sister’s first words to her in over twenty-five years. So much for happy family reunions.
“She’s found us.” Etta said, reserved, smiling. “She found out who she is and she came looking for us.”
Andie stared and Alyson waited, not knowing what to do. At least having a twin wasn’t a surprise for Andie. Alyson’s gaze shot to Jason Bradshaw and she wondered why he was there. For her sister, no doubt. They’d always known each other. They were friends.
And now, Alyson knew that she was the one who wasn’t supposed to be here. Andie sighed and held her horse close. Andie, who had had this life, these people, their father, the horses and a childhood.
“Andie, I’m glad you’re home. I’ve been hoping…” Etta started.
Andie shook her head. “Right. I need to put my horse up. He’s had a long trip.”
Alyson made a move to follow her sister but a hand on her arm stopped her. Jason’s hand. “Give her a few minutes alone. You’ve had a few days to adjust. She needs a little time, too.”
“Okay.” Alyson watched Andie walk through the doors of the barn and disappear into the darkness.
And she knew what her sister was feeling. She knew the emptiness. She knew betrayal, and the feeling that everyone knew something she didn’t. It was a deep down hurt. Alyson felt it, too.
“How about a cup of coffee, Jason?” Etta, quick to get it together again. Her outfit today was jeans and a tie-dyed T-shirt. Her lavender/gray hair was held back with a scarf. “Did you already eat?”
“I had coffee, but I need to head out to Camp Hope.” He pulled a notebook out of his pocket and Alyson smiled as he read it off to them. “Camp Hope, a bridle that Dad ordered, and dog food. If I don’t see you all today, I’m sure I’ll see you at church tomorrow.”
Church. Al
yson watched him walk away and she had another moment of not knowing what to do. Church? She glanced from her grandmother to the barn. Her sister did needlepoint verses. She probably understood faith.
Jason pulled out of the drive, waving as he took off down the road. Andie was still taking care of her horse. Or maybe waiting it out until they were gone.
Etta looked at the barn, and then back to Alyson. “We might as well go inside and wait. I guess I should have left a message on her phone, but I didn’t want to tell her like that.”
Alyson nodded because she didn’t know what to say. She followed Etta to the house. Her grandmother had stirred up bread dough earlier and now she dumped it out on a cutting board. Alyson was pouring herself a second cup of coffee when Andie walked through the back door, the screen banging softly as it closed behind her.
Etta turned to smile. She was kneading the dough, the white glump sticking to her hands and the cutting board. Alyson sat down on a stool to watch, and to wait for her sister to say something.
Andie poured herself a cup of coffee, spooned in several spoons of sugar and looked from her grandmother to Alyson. She shook her head and then took a sip of the coffee.
“So, you’re back.” Andie set the cup down and backed up to the counter. With hands braced on the edge of the countertop, she hopped once and sat. Etta shot her a look that didn’t seem to stop her.
“I guess I’m back. It happened suddenly, finding out about my family here. And then learning that I had a sister, too.” She had learned that from Jason.
“What does that mean?” Andie reached for her coffee, and Etta supplied the answer, dough sticking to her hands.
“Alyson didn’t know about us. She found out by accident.”
“She didn’t tell you about us?” Andie stared, and then she shook her head. “She didn’t tell you that she took the perfect kid and left behind the defective one?”
“That’s enough.” Etta shot Andie a look. She was pulling dough off her hands. Finally, she walked over to the sink and used her arm to turn on the water. “We’re family and we’re going to treat each other with love and respect.”
The Cowboy's Courtship Page 6
