First and Again

by Jana Richards

  The silent singing came to a crashing stop. “Honey, that school was pretty expensive. Even if we go back to San Francisco, I don’t know if I could afford the tuition.”

  “What do you mean, if we go back to San Francisco? You promised we’d go back.”

  “I know, but things are a lot less expensive for us here. I thought you liked riding at Jack’s and getting to know your cousins.”

  “I do, but I miss Daddy. I haven’t seen him in months.”

  And whose fault is that? She closed her eyes to quell her anger. “You can still visit him in the summer.”

  “Don’t you miss him?”

  She answered carefully. “Honey, you know your dad and I are divorced.”

  “Jessica Crenshaw’s mom and dad were divorced and they got back together again. They even had another wedding. Jessica was bridesmaid.”

  “Rebecca, your dad and I aren’t going to remarry.”

  She turned her back on Bridget, her shoulders stiff. She grabbed another plate from the drain board and began to wipe.

  “I still want to move back to San Francisco when school’s out in June.”

  Bridget placed a glass carefully in the drain board, her hand shaking a little. Why did Ben have such a pull over Rebecca when he’d been so absent from her life?

  * * *

  “Umm.”

  Bridget watched in amusement as Don closed his eyes and swallowed a bite of the apple pie she’d just served him. The old boy looked as if he’d just found Nirvana.

  “So, how is it?” she asked.

  “I thought cherry pie was my favorite,” he said. “But now I’m not so sure. The apple is fantastic.”

  “It sure is.” George polished off his pie and licked off his fork. “I’d say this is definitely your best so far.”

  The others nodded in agreement. Mavis chuckled.

  “It looks like you have a winner with this recipe, Bridget.” She gave her a broad wink. “We might have to start charging for pie now that you’re out of the experimental stage.”

  “I’d gladly pay for pie like this,” George said. “Even though I’m a poor pensioner on a fixed income.”

  The others ignored George’s complaints since they’d heard them many times before.

  “When are you going to reopen that restaurant, Bridget?” Don asked.

  It was only the hundredth time he’d asked her. She opened her mouth to give him her standard refusal, and then closed it again.

  For the first time, the prospect of staying in Paradise and making the commitment to a new business didn’t make her want to run screaming from the room. Doubts still plagued her. She didn’t like the idea of owing her mother, either financially or emotionally. And she still had serious concerns about harming someone with her cooking again. She wondered if she’d ever get over that completely.

  But cooking was her life. Denying herself the thing she loved had been like denying herself oxygen the last two years. She longed to run her own kitchen again. The longing surprised her after such a long absence.

  What surprised her even more was the desire she felt to put down roots. But surely not here in Paradise? She still felt like a visitor just passing through. But she no longer felt as if she belonged in San Francisco anymore either. She was somewhere in limbo, neither here nor there. When she thought about it, there were very few things about San Francisco, and very few people, she actually missed.

  She thought about the conversation she’d had with Rebecca. She doubted she could convince her to stay permanently in Paradise. Rebecca expected, somewhat unrealistically, that her life would return to the way it used to be if they went back. Why did her daughter believe she and Ben would reunite as husband and wife once they returned? The only thing she was completely sure about was that she would never reconcile with Ben.

  How did she make her daughter realize that things would never go back to the way they’d once been?

  * * *

  Jack urged his horse forward, guiding him toward the small herd of cattle in the corral. They zeroed in on their target, a Hereford steer with a bright yellow ear tag bearing the number 201. The steer decided he’d rather not play this game and abruptly turned. Angel nimbly changed direction, cutting off the steer’s escape route. The animal turned again, only to be cut off once more. After a third escape was thwarted, the steer, deciding surrender was in order, obediently trotted alongside Angel to the open corral gate. Jack let the animal through the gate and then leaned over to latch it. He guided Angel back to where Rebecca watched the proceedings astride Candy.

  “If this were an actual team penning event, there would be three riders and thirty head of cattle in a large pen. The cattle are numbered, three of them wearing the same numbers from zero to nine. The announcer shouts out a number and the team has to pen the three cattle marked with that number. Two of the riders go into the herd and cut out their cattle. The third rider keeps the rest of the cattle from coming down to the opposite end of the pen and going through the gate.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Rebecca said, reaching down to pat Candy’s neck.

  “It’s fun, but challenging. If it takes you longer than ninety seconds, you’re disqualified, or if a cow with the wrong number goes into the pen, you’re disqualified. Sometimes a cow will turn back quickly on you, ends up under your horse and everybody goes down. You’ve got to be ready for anything.” Jack pulled up on Angel’s reins to remind the horse who was in charge. “Why the sudden interest in team penning?”

  “I was talking to some people at school who are into horses. They’ve been competing in team penning events for a couple of years. I thought it sounded interesting.”

  Rebecca tried to sound nonchalant but Jack knew her well enough by now to detect the fire in her eyes. Inside, he privately rejoiced. Perhaps if she developed a serious passion for the sport, she’d want to stay in Paradise.

  And if Rebecca stayed, Bridget stayed.

  He tried to keep his voice and demeanor calm. “I could show you the basics.”

  “Really?” She looked up at him with a brilliant smile. “That would be awesome! The kids I talked to said they’re looking for a third for their team next year.”

  He silently said a prayer of thanks for the horse-loving kids. “So, these kids, are they boys or girls?”

  She ran her fingers through Candy’s mane. “Boys. Why?”

  He couldn’t resist teasing her. “I knew there had to be another reason for the sudden interest in team penning aside from a love of horses.”

  “We’re just friends.” She smiled shyly. “But Dylan is pretty cute.”

  “Dylan Anderson? He’s a good kid. I don’t know about the cute part.”

  “You won’t tell my mom, will you?”

  “Why not? Are you doing something with Dylan you don’t want her to know about?”

  “No!” A blush rose up her cheeks. “No, nothing like that. It’s just that she’d ask a lot of questions, and make a big deal about me liking a guy. I just don’t want to talk about it yet.”

  He felt honored that she’d told him about her feelings. His throat clogged with emotion.

  “It’s okay, kid. Your secret’s safe with me.”

  Rebecca grinned. “Thanks. I’ll tell her sometime, but right now I don’t even know if Dylan likes me too.”

  “Is he the only reason you want to learn about team penning?”

  “No. This is something I really want to do.”

  “Okay then. See number forty-seven?” He pointed to one of the steers. “He’s standing a little away from the rest of the herd over by the fence. Try cutting him out from the herd and bringing him down to the gate.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. You want to work quickly but calmly. You don’t want to stampede the whole herd.”

  She sat a little taller in her saddle, a look of determination on her face. “Okay, I’ll do my best.”

  He guided Angel to a spot next to the fence where he could watch without being
in the way. Rebecca carefully maneuvered her horse between the Hereford steer and the rest of the cattle, her knees guiding Candy’s movements and her face a study in concentration. As he watched, his heart filled with pride. She worked slowly, but methodically. The steer made a few nimble turns but she was able to keep him under control. Under her guidance, Candy stayed between the steer and the rest of the cows until they got him through the open corral gate. She pumped her fist in the air in victory.

  “Woo-hoo!”

  “Great job, Becky! I told you, you’re a natural.”

  “That was such fun! Can I do I do it again?”

  “Sure.” He looked over the remaining herd, wanting to give her a more demanding subject this time. “Try number thirty.”

  Rebecca and Candy moved into the herd once more. Number thirty was bigger and more agile than the previous steer, and proved more of a challenge. The heifer zigged and zagged and generally did her best to avoid the horse and rider. But Rebecca wouldn’t give up and doggedly continued her pursuit.

  He heard a car pull into the yard and turned to see Bridget’s little red Chevy. He lifted his hand in a brief greeting, then turned to watch Rebecca once more. His heart beat a little faster as he heard her approach the corral, and Angel stamped the ground, picking up on his unsettled mood. Even without looking he was aware of her every movement. She climbed a couple of rails of the corral.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi yourself.” He coaxed Angel closer to the fence. He leaned forward to wind one of her silky curls around his finger. “You cut your hair.”

  She laughed and looked away, smoothing her hair with one hand. “Yeah. Celia had her way with it.”

  He gave the curl a gentle tug. “You look beautiful.”

  Her blue eyes opened wide with surprise. He chuckled. “If you tell me no one’s ever told you you’re beautiful, I won’t believe you.”

  “It’s...it’s been a long time. Thank you.”

  A blush rose up her neck, coloring her cheeks. She averted her gaze, looking toward the corral where Rebecca slowly led the heifer toward the gate. Jack could feel her discomfort with his compliment. Didn’t she believe he meant it?

  “What is she doing?” she asked, clearly wanting to change the subject.

  “Cutting a heifer from the herd.” He pointed to the open gate at the far end of the corral. “She’s trying to get her to go in there.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s interested in team penning. I’m showing her the basics.”

  “Oh. I’ve never heard her talk about it.”

  He heard the note of disappointment in her voice. He wished Rebecca would confide more in her mother. But then, she was a fifteen-year-old girl and they were infamous for keeping secrets from their parents, especially their mothers.

  “She met some kids at school who are into it and she wanted to know what it was all about.” He hoped his explanation would satisfy her. He didn’t want to divulge Rebecca’s secret crush.

  “I see.” She kept her voice low, her attention on her daughter. “Thank you for being so patient with Rebecca. You’ve spent far more time with her then I ever expected, far more than her father ever did.”

  His heart made a painful thump. If he was Becky’s father he’d be damn proud to spend time with her. “Becky’s a good kid and a good rider. I wouldn’t be teaching her if I didn’t think she could handle it. She’s something special.”

  Bridget’s expression was full of pride as she watched her daughter work the cattle. “She looks like she belongs here, doesn’t she?”

  “Yeah, she does. So do you.”

  She turned to stare at him, and he couldn’t look away. His heart thumped erratically. The sooner he had Bridget in his bed the better.

  * * *

  Trepidation and excitement skittered along Bridget’s nerve endings as she drove the short distance to Jack’s ranch the next day. Something had happened between them yesterday. An answer had been given without her being consciously aware of the question.

  She didn’t know when or where, but she knew without a doubt she and Jack would soon make love.

  Heat pooled low in her belly at the thought. The strength of her desire shocked her. It had been years since she’d felt this kind of longing, not since...

  Not since she’d been with Jack twenty years ago.

  She pulled into the yard and parked near the house. The sound of voices and laughter and pounding hoof beats drew her toward the barn and the attached corral.

  Dust flew as Rebecca’s horse whipped around one barrel and then galloped toward the next one. Bridget’s heart lodged in her throat as she watched the horse and rider lean into the second barrel, trying to take the shortest, fastest route. Rebecca’s hat flew from her head. A huge grin spread across her face as if she were having the time of her life.

  Bridget stood next to Jack. “I thought she wanted to get into team penning.”

  “She does. But when she heard that old Barney used to be a barrel racer, she wanted to give it a try.”

  “Barney?”

  Jack grinned. “The gelding she’s riding. He’s too slow for competitive racing these days but he still likes to run.”

  “I don’t know,” she said with a frown, watching as Rebecca and Barney rounded the last barrel and raced toward the open gate at the end of the corral. “He still looks pretty fast to me.”

  Jack took her hand. “Don’t worry. Your baby will be fine.”

  She looked into his eyes and knew she trusted him to keep Rebecca safe.

  “Okay. If you so say.”

  He squeezed her hand, but dropped it as Rebecca approached them on her horse.

  “That was so much fun!” she said, leaning down to pat Barney’s neck. “Can we do it again?”

  “I think Barney’s had enough fun for one day. Take him into the barn and give him a good rubdown.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you in a little while, Mom.”

  “All right, honey. I’ll be waiting for you.”

  She watched as Rebecca walked Barney toward the barn, talking to him the whole way. A lightness filled her heart.

  “It’s good to see her so happy. I never thought I’d see a smile on her face again.” She turned to Jack. “Thank you.”

  He smiled into her eyes. Slowly he lowered his head to hers and she waited for his kiss, trembling with anticipation.

  “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!”

  Jack and Bridget abruptly stepped away from each other as Leslie ran toward them with her awkward gait, a huge smile on her round face. Just as well. She had no business kissing Jack Davison.

  She slid him a glance and was surprised by the look of sadness on his face as he watched his daughter run toward them.

  She had little time to analyze his emotions. Leslie reached them and launched herself first into Jack’s arms and then into hers. She held the little girl tightly, dropping a kiss on her fine, blond hair. She wondered if Leslie had seen that Jack was about to kiss her, or if she would understand.

  She might not understand, but Jack’s mother probably would. Jane followed Leslie, doing her best to keep up.

  “Leslie, give your old Grandma a chance. You’re too fast for me.” She took a moment to catch her breath and then turned to Bridget. “It’s good to see you again, dear. Are you ready for the big event on Saturday?”

  “I think so.” Bridget was relieved that Jane wanted to talk about business rather than her relationship with her son. “My plans for the food are in place, my servers are ready and Tina Wilson is going to help me with the preparations.”

  Jack turned to her in surprise. “Tina Wilson? You’re going to work with Tina?”

  “Well, yes. I need help and I didn’t have a lot of options.”

  Jane laughed. “Tina’s something of a handful, but down deep she’s got a good heart.”

  “Tina hasn’t exactly shown a heart of gold to Bridget,” he remarked. “If she gives you any trouble, let me know and I’ll straighten her out.
”

  “I appreciate the support, but you don’t have to worry about the dinner. We’ve come to an understanding. However we feel about each other, we’re going to work together to put on a terrific event for you.”

  “I’m more concerned about you.”

  “I told you, Tina and I have worked out our differences. Everything will be fine.”

  They stared at one another for several uncomfortable moments. She had no idea what Jack was thinking. Was he angry with her for bringing Tina into this? She was aware of Jane’s curious expression as she listened to their exchange, and her face flamed with embarrassment once more.

  The mood was broken when Leslie tugged on Jane’s arm, impatient with the adult conversation. “Grandma, I want to see Becky and my pony.”

  “Okay, sweetie.” She turned to Bridget. “Good luck on Saturday. You’re a talented chef, Bridget. I’m sure everything will be wonderful.”

  She took Jane’s outstretched hand, humbled by her confidence. “Thank you.”

  She watched as Jane walked toward the barn with Leslie skipping beside her.

  “How did you convince Tina to work with you? Did you tell her you were going to pay her?”

  She glanced briefly at Jack. “No, of course not. That would be difficult since I don’t have any money. We made a deal.”

  “What kind of deal?”

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “We’re going into business together.” She told him about catering Tina’s friend’s daughter’s wedding. “We both need the money so we’re splitting the profits fifty-fifty.”

  At first he looked incredulous. Then he threw back his head and laughed.

  “Remind me to stay out of the kitchen. I want to avoid the flying pots and pans.”

  Bridget grinned in response. “Don’t worry. We’re not quite so immature as that. I need Tina’s help to make this dinner a success. We’ll be fine.”

  His expression sobered. “I can still cancel. It’s not too late.”

  “Actually it is. I’ve already spent most of the money you gave me for food and supplies. Besides, I want to do this. I’m excited about doing this.”

  He leaned closer, his calloused thumb stroking the tender skin under her eye. “You’re an amazing woman, Bridget Grant. And an amazing mother. Whether Rebecca knows it or not, she’s lucky to have you.”