"Can't a woman visit with her daughter?"
No. Not when the very secret she was trying to keep from her mother was strolling around, insisting on taking her out on a date, and making her heart race.
Kind, but firm. That was the mantra Nan had helped her develop the last time her mother had come sniffing around. Layla worked to keep her features smooth, but a grimace was lurking just under the surface. Your secrets are yours to keep. Because it was never just a visit. It was always needling, poking, pushing about how much easier her life would be if she demanded compensation for her trouble. Her mother saw her pregnancy, and the struggle of single-motherhood as a burden, and that was the hard sticking point when it came to getting along with her family these days. She wouldn't have traded her life with Mason for anything. And the more her mother insisted, the more it felt like she was making the same argument about having Layla and her siblings.
"Sure," Layla said on a long exhale, straightening and pushing back from the desk a little. "What's new?"
Rhonda pressed her lips together, a tell that she had something to say that might make Layla unhappy. Not that she really cares if she makes me unhappy or not. It was good enough to know her mother at least knew she was being indecent—having enough control to stop herself was another thing entirely.
She couldn't be angry, though. Her mother had acted out of need and desperation so many times it had become habit, taking advantage of the kindness of others. Easier to take a handout than to fix what she could in her own life. Layla was thankful she'd managed to get off that particular carousel.
"I'd like to see Mason more."
That was new. All of Rhonda's energy had been directed toward Mason's father for so long Layla had given up hoping her mother would take an interest in the child. It was new, and strange, but it did plant the tiniest seed of hope they could perhaps someday function like a normal family, and she desperately wanted 'normal'.
"Mom, you know you can come over anytime." It would be awkward, at first. Tough, because of all the things that had been said before she'd moved out of the family home. But if it meant Mason got to have a relationship with both grandmothers, then she was willing to at least try. "Well, anytime I'm actually home."
Her mother completely missed her apologetic smile, gripping tightly to her last line. "You work way too much, Layla."
A whole speech about doing what she had to do to take care of her family on her own terms stuck in the back of her throat. She didn't want to make a scene, and she was still trying to hold onto the warm buzz of happiness Nate's visit had produced. Instead, she forced another smile.
"I know." Leaning forward over her planner, she ran her fingers over the squares of the week, where she'd carefully penciled in all her shifts. "I have the evening off Thursday. Maybe you could come by then?"
The smile that crossed Rhonda Sullivan's face gave Layla more hope than any of her words and internal reasoning had. Ultimately, at the end of the day, she was a mother, a grandmother, and surely that part of her was talking over the part of her that was always looking for an angle to make the most money out of something. Her mother straightened, rapping her knuckles on the desk lightly.
"It's a date, then."
Layla would rather have accepted the first date offer she got today.
—SEVEN—
"Nonono, pleasepleaseplease!" Layla cursed under her breath, pounding her fist on the steering wheel of her Fiesta as she watched the temperature gauge climb and climb. She'd just dumped a gallon of water into the radiator and driven halfway to work with her windows down and the heat turned up full blast, but the steam billowing out from under the hood as she limped it to the side of the road told her the thermostat had finally died, once and for all. Turning off the ignition, she drew in a deep breath and then covered her mouth to try and hold in a couple of self-pitying sobs. She was so close to being able to pay off the parts, but her bank account was still a hundred dollars away and without a reliable method of transportation, coming up with that cash would be much more complicated.
Dropping her head back against the headrest, she took a couple more breaths to get her emotions under control and then pulled out her cell. She dialed Nan's number and the woman picked up within a couple rings.
"Hey Nan, it's Lay…"
"Everything okay, sweetie?"
The warmth in the older woman's voice dulled the ache to simply have a family she could count on at times like these.
"Yes. Well, sort of. I'm stuck on the side of the road by the Milton farm. The car finally gave up the ghost. And I'm supposed to be at Dr. Fields' office at ten. I was just wondering if you could come give me a lift."
"Of course," Nan said.
Layla breathed a sigh of relief. Nan's house wasn't far, so she still had a chance of making it to work on time. If Nan hurried.
"I'll be right there."
"Thank you, you're a lifesaver."
"Don't be silly. You're my family. I'm doing for you like I'd do for either of the boys." The reciprocation in words of the way Layla had felt about Nan for the last year warmed her heart and Layla smiled.
"See ya soon," she said, hanging up before quickly dialing the number to the office to give Dr. Fields a heads up that she could be late. When she disconnected that call, she climbed out of the car, unfolding her long-legged frame. She bent back into it to retrieve her purse and heard a diesel engine rumble in behind her. Straightening, she smoothed her hands down over the front of her sundress and came face to face with Nate.
"My knight in shining…pickup truck."
His laughter was a deep, pleasant rumble.
"I hear you're in a bind."
"You are…considerably younger than who I expected. And the wrong gender, too." Pleasure to see him was underwritten by the nagging idea that she didn't want Nate's help. It started with a date, then he was trying to help her with the house, then they got close, and then she had a big problem on her hands. A hot, muscular, six-foot-four problem she wouldn't want to get rid of, but a problem nonetheless.
"Yeah, well Nan was just putting some bread in the oven and I'm not much of a baker, so I offered to take her place. Hop in." He headed back toward the truck and she pushed the manual lock down and closed the driver's side door of her car.
It was a big heave, even for a tall girl like her, to get into the passenger side of Nate's truck. It was designed for pulling a big stock trailer before anything else, and it took a grip on the handle on the door frame and a couple bounces to get in. Nate watched, amusement written across his features, and she felt her cheeks redden. She turned her face to hide it, pulling the seatbelt toward the buckle, but it didn't stick. The metal tongue slid out of the buckle as easily as it slid in, without catching. Before she'd even appealed to him for help, Nate's fingers covered hers to slide it into place, his rough, warm palm covering the back of her hand and twisting just so. The touch made her mouth dry, her heart race, and a heavy breath blow out of her. Whatever he did worked, and he slipped his hand away from hers, a little smile quirking the corner of his lips. The tension had lifted, but he'd clearly felt it, too.
"Thanks."
"I'm gonna get that fixed," he said, turning his attention to the road as he pulled off the shoulder and guided the truck toward town.
"Don't go out of your way on my accord," she said with a laugh, watching fields pass by as they got closer to the small hub of Three Rivers. They were maybe five minutes out of town, but the early sprouting farmlands turned to residential properties and small businesses surprisingly quickly. Maybe too quickly, but maybe not quickly enough.
"Well, I'd like to see more of you in that seat, so it's the least I can do." She felt the smile on his words, and when she looked over at him, it was there. Warm, and inviting, it squeezed her heart. He was a good man. Being raised by Nan, he had no choice but to be the dying breed that still held doors open and pulled over when women were broken down on the side of the road. He'd be the kind of man who would want to do
right by his child, too.
"We'll see," she teased as he pulled up to the curb in front of Dr. Field's office, putting the truck in park. She climbed out, then turned back to thank him.
"Nate, you're a lifesaver. How can I repay you?" It was a standard line when someone got you out of hot water, but she realized she'd walked right into it before the words had even finished crossing her lips. Nate's broad grin told her he realized, too.
"Don't say no this time."
A long breath huffed out of her; she couldn't turn him down this time. Did she even want to anymore?
"Okay."
"Whaddaya know?" He laughed. "Third time's a charm. When are you off work?"
"Five."
"I'll pick you up. And give me your keys. I'll see about getting something done with your car."
"You don't have to…"
"I know I don't." He cut her off, and Layla shut her mouth. She could argue, but there probably wouldn't be any use. He was raised by Nan, after all. "And I wouldn't, if I didn't want to. Besides, what kind of man would I be to leave a lady stranded?"
She grinned big, handing her keys across the seat to him. "The average one?"
"Ridiculous. Now get going before you're late."
She glanced at the dash clock—somehow, despite the hiccup, she was running on time; five minutes early, even. And she felt like she was walking on sunshine.
"Thank you," she said, pausing to take him in one more time, one arm thrown over the steering wheel, watching her with interest. He wasn't doing much to calm the butterflies in her stomach; no, he was riling them up—and he might have been doing it on purpose. "See you at five."
—EIGHT—
Lily Baylor was standing on the front step of the cabin with her hands on her hips when Nate rolled into the Baylor ranch after dropping off Layla. He was in big trouble. He'd shot her a text after he'd towed Layla's car to Nan's, just to make sure she wasn't off in the woods on Tank before he showed up, and the only response he got had been a line of exclamation marks.
"Where the hell have you been, Nate Montgomery?"
He was barely out of his truck and she was giving him an earful. Typical Lily.
"Cool your jets, I've been around," he said, holding his hands out to show he came in peace…and also to ward off any flying attacks. She'd become nearly as cantankerous as her husband in married life. "Busy."
Truth was, these days Lily was as big a reminder as any about the life he'd lost. That was where they'd first met, around the chutes in Denver. She was an amazing photographer and she followed the circuit and got a contract for the National Stock Show just about every year. He'd initially set his sights on taking her out, but after a half dozen rejections, they'd settled into a solid friendship. The kind of friendship that didn't get left behind with everything else in Denver. Especially since she'd married one of his best friends and settled down in Three Rivers.
"Too busy to come see me? Seriously? You might be the lamest person I know."
"I know, I know," he sighed, dropping his hands. She took that opportunity to launch herself at him, and where he was expecting spitfire and possible scratching, he instead got a warm, tight hug. Maybe she wasn't as cantankerous as he thought.
"I missed you," she said into his shirt. He squeezed her tight. They'd each been through hell and back—with the other by their side. First, her accident with her horse, Encore, and then his wreck. Though he had no romantic interest in her these days, those traumas bound people together in ways normal friendships just didn't.
"I missed you, too. I just…"
"I know, it's tough." She released him and patted his shoulder. She might have been the only person who did know. But she was back at what she loved, now. Just in different circumstances than what she'd originally intended. "We're glad to see you, no matter when you turned up. But word is you've been in town for at least a week, so I am bound by contract to give you a hard time."
"Where're the boys?"
"Dane's got Gracie at swimming lessons, if you can believe that, and Finn and Noah are trading some horses with Reicher. They'll be sorry they missed you."
"Yeah, well I'll be around, so this visit isn't a limited time offer."
She cut a glare at him and he shrugged.
"And I promise it won't be a week next time."
"Good. Now, I want to know everything."
She settled onto the porch steps and patted the spot beside her. He settled into the offered place and she slipped her arm into his. After supporting one another through their accidents, the casual physical touch was second nature. They'd had moments of vulnerability much more intimate than this.
"It's been a week, not a year."
"Well, it's been at least two months since I last saw you."
Lily made an effort to visit every time she came to Denver for work, but the visits had become less frequent. She insisted it was because they were focused on trying to make little Lilys and Finns, not because she didn't want to see the sad mess he'd spiraled into.
"That's not my fault," he tried.
"Bullshit. It's been almost two years since you've come in this direction."
"Well, I was in traction for part of that. And rehab."
She smiled. "Fair point. So what's new then?"
"Saw the doc yesterday."
Lily brightened for a half-second, then registered his expression and slumped.
"Same story. No bull riding."
"We'll find you something else, then."
It was his turn to give her the cutting glare.
"Riding bulls is who I am, Lilypad. You know that. If I can't do that, there is nothing else for me to do."
She pressed her lips together, her dark eyes scrutinizing as she searched his face. After a moment of silence, she started.
"Who you are is a kind, compassionate, funny man, who just happens to have been stupid enough to make a living climbing onto the back of the baddest bulls in the country. You're honest, and upstanding, and a hell of a friend. I don't know anybody else who drops everything the way you do to help. So no, Nate Montgomery, riding bulls is not who you are, riding bulls is what you did. And you can always do other things. You're in your twenties, for God's sake, not your eighties."
"Almost thirty." He blew out a breath, feeling his cheeks warm. "Fine, okay. Bull riding isn't who I am, it's what I did. Happy?"
Nate tipped his head down, narrowing her in his gaze.
"Yes. Now. How about a ride into the woods? You're not too much of a 'failure' for that, are you?"
He hadn't been on a horse since the accident. When he'd finally been physically capable, it hurt too much knowing they, like the rest of the things he owned, would be sold off to the highest bidder to repay his hospital debts. It didn't scare him, not the way the bulls did, he just didn't have the heart for it like he used to. But Lily was looking at him with such hopeful expectation he wasn't going to have any choice in the matter.
"All right," he said, drawing out the word out with reluctance.
"Good." She smiled, pushing herself up off the step. "I was going to go myself anyways, but it's nice to have company. Sometimes Kerri comes with me but mostly she's busy working, and Finn usually has too much going on here. I foresee a lot of trail riding in your future, Mr. Montgomery."
"Oh Lord," he replied, drawing himself to his feet. Most of the time these days, he had no pain, except for when there was rain. Like Lily, he had half a hardware store bolted to his skeleton. "Go easy on me, though. It's been a long time."
"We'll get you back in riding shape in no time."
*
A short fifteen minutes later, Nate had managed to get astride Jet, Dane Baylor's semi-retired cutting horse. He wasn't an aged horse by any stretch of the imagination, but Dane and his wife were in the process of birthing a baseball team and that ate up most of the ranch owner's free time. It was strange, but less painful—emotionally, and physically—than he had imagined it would be. He did a couple of small circles,
bending the horse around his leg to loosen him up, remembering the motion and the way his body needed to move to go with the horse.
"Hey, not bad." Lily smiled from atop Tank, the gelding she'd been gifted by Finn when he hadn't been able to rehab her endurance horse. That visit, bringing Lily and Encore to Finn, had been the same visit during which he'd had his tryst with Layla. Typical of a small town, everything was entangled. "Way better than I did my first time back on."
"Took you a couple of tries to actually agree to get on the horse in the first place, if I recall."
"Not true. Took a couple of tries for me to be able to get into the saddle without Finn's old heave-ho."
"Imagine if he hadn't taken that upon himself, you might be back in Denver."
His friend chuckled and shook her head. They had been at odds in the beginning; so badly, in fact, Nate had offered to take her back to Denver when he left. To her credit, Lily had stuck it out, and so had Finn, and now here they were, in love and crazy happy. Nate had never imagined himself as the settling-down type, but it was second nature to the pair of them, like breathing. He couldn't help but be happy for his friends.
"Ready to go?" Lily asked, nodding to him.
She'd had to fight through a lot of fear to get back in the saddle. For Nate, it was a lot simpler. Jet was easier to ride because he had no investment in him…and he didn't have a set of horns and moo. He reached down to pet the gelding's neck and then nodded back to his friend.
"Ready as I'll ever be."
She led him out past the heifer barn and onto a path that looked a little more worn than the last time he'd been on it. Finn had mentioned once she rode every day, putting in lots of miles, and the well-worn trail showed it. The property was hundreds of acres of mixed terrain, and Nate lost track of time until the alarm he'd set on his phone chirped, reminding him he'd have to go pick up Layla sooner rather than later.
Secret Heart Page 4
