by Kara Lennox
Willow stood. “Okay. Okay, I will.”
WILLOW REFUSED to let herself think too hard as she marched out of the house and down to the corrals. The kids were using the large practice ring, preparing for the rodeo finale tomorrow. Parents, teachers, counselors and social workers would be on hand to watch the children demonstrate their newly acquired horsemanship skills. Wade would pass out ribbons and trophies like candy.
“Is Cal around?” Willow asked Jan, who was adjusting a saddle for a ten-year-old girl named Freddi.
“In the barn, I think. The babies are getting shoes today.”
“The babies” were what everyone called the year-lings, though they were full-grown horses.
Willow wandered into the cavernous barn. Gary Aimes, the blacksmith, was indeed there. A pretty bay horse named Latte stood in the wide passageway having the equine equivalent of a pedicure. Cal stood next to the mare, scratching her under her chin and apparently deep in conversation with her. The muscle-bound blacksmith had Latte’s foreleg between his knees, tapping the nails into a shiny new shoe.
Willow stood back, waiting until Gary finished before approaching. Latte was a bit skittish, from what Willow had seen, and she didn’t want to cause problems.
Once the last nail was in, Gary released the horse’s leg. “I don’t know what you did to calm her down,” Gary said with a laugh, “but it sure worked.”
“He speaks horse,” Willow said as she walked up slowly, still cautious about startling the horse. But Latte did seem unusually calm. She didn’t mind when Willow stroked her neck.
“It’s just a matter of trust,” Cal said. “Hi, Willow. Do you know Gary?”
“By reputation.”
They made a bit of small talk as Gary packed up the tools of his trade. Latte was apparently the last horse that needed shoes. He soon departed, leaving Cal and Willow alone.
“I have to take Latte out to the pasture. Did you need something? I’m not staying for dinner, if you’re trying to get a head count.”
Willow was a bit disappointed to hear that. “It’s our last campfire cookout. The kids’ll be going home tomorrow after the rodeo.”
“I know. But I have to drive into Tyler. I’m buying a computer.”
“Really?” She walked alongside him as he led Latte out the barn door.
“If I’m going to make this business thing work, I’ll need business cards, invoices, flyers. In the long run, it’ll be a lot cheaper and more efficient if I can print those things myself. And I need a Web site. I’m gonna hire a college kid to design one for me and teach me how to update it.”
“Oh, I know someone who would be perfect. My old roommate’s brother—”
“Willow. Stop.” He opened a gate leading to a grassy pasture where several other horses were grazing. After unclipping the lead from Latte’s halter, he sent the horse into the pasture with an affectionate slap on the rump.
“You already have someone in mind?”
“No. I mean, you said you were done with me. You said you needed to pull back. You have your own agenda, your own goals, and I understand if you don’t want to get all involved helping with mine. But I was just getting used to the idea that I could do this alone. So don’t start throwing me names and offering advice if you’re going to turn around and snub me again.”
“Snub you? Is that what you think I did?”
He pushed his hair off his forehead in an impatient gesture. “No. I think you thought it through and made a decision based on your needs, which is a perfectly sensible and logical thing to do. I don’t think you did it to hurt me or make me mad. In fact, I don’t think you thought much about me at all. Because it’s always about you, isn’t it?”
Willow took a step back. This was a side of Cal she’d rarely seen. He hardly ever spoke to her with irritation, much less anger in his voice. Even the other day, when they’d argued about his lack of ambition, his tone had been more…challenging.
“You look at every situation from every angle,” he continued, “weigh your decision based on how it will affect you. And when something doesn’t go your way, you agonize over how your plan went wrong and then you scramble to alter your strategy and minimize the damage.
“But do you ever stop to think about the fallout to everybody around you?”
Willow was so shocked by this unwarranted attack, she couldn’t even find words to defend herself. She just stood there staring, her throat tightening, her eyes burning. What had happened to her Cal, her sweet, kind Cal?
“You say that what happened five years ago totally messed up your life. But did you ever once think about how it messed up mine?”
“It didn’t mess up yours. You went on to finish school and attend vet school, just like you’d planned.”
“Yeah, but that was after I had to go home and tell my parents what I’d done. I couldn’t look my mother in the eye for a year. I still don’t think she’s forgiven me for losing you. You were as much a daughter to her as my own sister.”
Cal was right, Willow thought, feeling about six inches tall. She had shared a wonderful relationship with Marilyn Chandler. But after the breakup, she’d cut herself off from Cal’s family, too.
“I didn’t know your parents were upset with you. I always figured you could do no wrong in their eyes.”
“They didn’t cut me off at the knees like your parents did to you. They tried to understand, and I think they did. But it was rough going for a while. And then—” He stopped himself.
“What?”
“Never mind.”
“No, tell me. I guess I need to know.”
“It’s just that, well, maybe the reason I dropped out of vet school had something to do with you, too.”
Willow was stunned. “Me? But I was nowhere near you.”
“Exactly. It wasn’t the same,” he said. “Nothing was the same after we broke up. Without you cheering me on, without you to share my successes with, vet school just didn’t matter anymore. And I had other plans, too, that I had to toss out the window.”
“What plans?”
“The house in the suburbs, the picket fence, two-point-two kids. I planned to marry you. I’d have married you then, if I thought it would fix things.”
All the breath whooshed out of Willow. She’d had no idea. Yes, they’d been in love, the passionate, teenage version of it. But they’d never talked about marriage. And if Cal had brought it up, it probably would have scared her to pieces.
A lot of things scared her back then.
One thing scared her now. She’d blown it with Cal. He was right; he was so totally right. She was completely self-involved. She did always look at everything in terms of how it affected her. She’d been fighting for herself for so long now, it had become a habit, and not always a very good one.
Her father had said something to that effect at lunch a couple of weeks ago—something about how she enjoyed all the focus being on her—but she’d dismissed it as nonsense.
Maybe her father had had a point.
“I’m sorry, Cal.” She was appalled to realize she’d never said that to him. “I’m sorry I hurt you. You’re right. I’m a selfish twit. And I haven’t changed or grown up at all. Thirty minutes ago, when I made the decision to come talk to you, all I considered was what would be right for me, what would work out best for my plans. I didn’t even stop to consider whether it would be fair to you.”
“Whether what would be fair? What are you talking about?”
Willow’s face burned. She couldn’t tell him now. What she’d been about to propose to him was horrendous. “No, never mind. It was a bad idea.”
She turned and fled as if she were being chased by killer bees.
Chapter Nine
Cal watched Willow go and he felt like sticking his head in the watering trough. What had he been thinking? He never lost his temper, never went off on tirades. And to aim his frustrations at Willow, when all she’d done was make a friendly suggestion, was really out of character
for him.
But she’d really hit a nerve. First, she’d thrown herself into his project with all the enthusiasm and passion he knew was in her. Then, she abruptly pulled back, completely oblivious to the fact that she’d stomped all over his heart yet again.
Then, just as blithely she’d come back, like a yo-yo with a mind of its own, all friendly and smiling. She really had no idea what she did to him. She had no clue how much it hurt to even look at her and know he couldn’t touch her, and how the soft sound of her voice tickled every nerve ending in his body.
Suddenly, it had just gotten to him. And before he knew what was happening, he was spewing all the anger and frustration and bitterness he’d never expressed before.
Hell, maybe he hadn’t even known it was there. He’d told himself he quit vet school because he’d realized it wasn’t the right fit for him, and that’s what he’d always believed. He’d explained to his family that he’d realized he didn’t want to deal with sick and injured animals all of the time. It was too painful.
His dropping out had nothing to do with Willow. Except maybe it did. With Willow there to encourage him, he might have worked through his doubts and stuck with it. But without her, everything had seemed so lackluster, even the career he’d been groomed for his whole life.
Still, it had been his decision to quit. Blaming Willow was just plain not right. He’d been lashing out and had said the one thing he knew would hurt.
She’d sought him out for a purpose. But thanks to his little temper tantrum, he might not ever find out what it was she’d wanted from him.
Suddenly he wanted to know—real bad.
He could still see her, walking back toward the house at a brisk clip, head down, her long braid bouncing against her back with every determined step.
“Ah, hell,” he muttered as he broke into a lope, then an all-out sprint. He caught up with her just before she reached the front porch.
“Wait, Willow. I’m sorry. I overreacted.”
She kept walking. “It’s okay. I’m not mad. I deserved it, every word.”
“No, you didn’t.”
She reached for the doorknob. It was locked. “Oh, perfect time for you to lock yourself out, Willow.”
“Perfect time,” Cal agreed, grasping her by the shoulders and turning her around to face him. “Don’t run away from me. What I said, I said in anger. I’m not mad anymore.”
“Hmm. You sure get over stuff quickly. I can hold a grudge for years, you know.”
“Believe me, I know.”
“It’s not a very attractive quality.”
“Not my favorite aspect of your personality,” he agreed. “But you have other very nice qualities.”
“Like what? You already said I’m selfish and driven and I don’t care about anybody else’s feelings. Certainly you don’t admire those things about me.”
“I didn’t mean it when I said—”
“Oh, yes, you did. You certainly did.”
“Why do you want to become a doctor?” he asked suddenly.
She stared at him, puzzled, for a moment. “Because I want to make a lot of money?”
He crossed his arms. “Bull.”
She sighed. “Because I want to help people. Because I want to make a real difference in people’s lives. Jeez, I sound like a contestant in a beauty pageant.”
“And what are you going to specialize in?”
“Pediatrics.”
“And what are you going to do once you’re a pediatrician?”
“I’m going to open a clinic,” she said as if by rote, because she’d said it least a thousand times, “and I’m going to provide medical care to people who can’t afford it otherwise.”
“Now does that sound like someone who’s selfish and self-involved and doesn’t care about anyone else?”
That finally earned a smile out of her. He sat next to her on the steps and she didn’t run away.
“Why did you come down to the barn? What did you want to say to me?”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe I was even considering it.”
“Would you just tell me?”
“Everyone thinks I should give you—I mean, give us—a second chance.”
Cal bit his tongue to keep from enthusiastically agreeing.
“Everyone also tells me that I’m pushing too hard, that I can’t improve my memory by sheer will alone.”
“I’ll agree with that,” he said cautiously, wondering where this was going.
“So in typical Willow fashion, I came up with a plan that would address both issues, at least in part. I was going to ask you if you wanted to be with me…for the next three weeks.”
“A temporary sort of thing?” he asked, just to be sure he understood.
“It would have to be, wouldn’t it? I’m moving away in three weeks. But in the back of my mind, I’m thinking, what if I don’t get better? What if I can’t go to med school? If I have Cal, I’ll have something to fall back on—if things work out between us, if I, in my infinite wisdom, determine that a relationship with you is good for me. See what I mean? Totally selfish.”
Now he got it. “So I’d be, like, your consolation prize.”
She nodded, looking miserable. “It was a reprehensible plan. I’m pond scum. Because I never once stopped to consider how you would feel about it. I figured you’d take what I gave you. Just because I’m wonderful me.”
“Because I’m still so pathetically nuts for you I’d agree to anything, even three lousy weeks, just to be near you?”
“That about sums up my thinking. Or lack of thinking, if you prefer that.”
There was a long silence as Cal absorbed what she’d said. He watched a centipede making its way toward him on the wooden step. Rather than flick it away, he used a twig to pick it up and set it on a nearby rosebush. “You want to know what’s really sad? I would have been tempted to say yes, even knowing that in three weeks you were going to dump me. I’d have just tried to change your mind, that’s all. I mean, is there any reason we have to break up, just because you’re going away to school? We stayed together when I went away to A&M.”
“And all I could think about was when you were coming home again. I lived for your letters and phone calls. It’s a wonder I made it through high school with only half my mind on it.”
“But you did graduate.”
“Med school is a lot more demanding than high school. With my additional…challenges…I can’t afford any distractions. If I know one thing about myself, it’s that I perform better if I can focus on one thing at a time. I’ve worked so hard for this, and I’m really afraid of blowing it.”
“What if I said I’d take the three weeks and be satisfied?”
She peered at him from underneath her bangs. “Don’t even tempt me.”
“I am tempting you.” He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He was a masochist. That was all there was to it.
She didn’t say no right away. He considered that a good sign.
“Do we even have to have a plan?” he asked. “I know it goes against your grain, but what if we just play it by ear? No promises, no commitments. When it’s time for you to move to Dallas, I’ll let you go.”
“But will I want to let you go? That’s what worries me. I know I’m just thinking about me again, but…see, it’s a bad idea.”
Cal decided he’d had about enough of this conversation. “Fine. If you want to analyze this to death, worry over every little consequence, live in the future, live in the past, live anywhere except today, you go right ahead. It’s your life. But as long as you’re thinking about stuff, think about this.” He placed his hands on either side of her head and kissed the everlivin’ daylights out of her.
She didn’t kiss him back. He imagined she was too startled. He pulled away, memorizing her face, her flushed cheeks, her full lips, moist and ripe from the kiss. He’d played his last card and it lay on the table like a deuce.
“Goodbye, Willow.” He released her and
tried to stand. But to his surprise, she grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. Before he could even regain his balance, she threw her arms around him and belatedly returned his kiss.
Oh, Lord, her lips were soft. And she smelled so damn good, like spring flowers and…yeasty bread dough. And he wanted more than anything to tear the rubber band out of her braid and unravel her dark, silky hair and wrap himself in it. What had he done? What had he started here? If she accepted his offer, he would still lose her, and it would kill him this time.
Damn, Chandler. Now who was worrying about the future? He had Willow in his arms. What else mattered?
He kissed her until he was dizzy and out of breath. He didn’t care who was watching.
Finally, Willow broke away. “I must be the stupidest woman in the world.”
“For kissing me?”
“For almost letting you walk away.”
Now that was what he wanted to hear.
WILLOW WAS IN IT up to her eyeballs now. Somehow she’d managed to stop kissing Cal. He’d returned to his horses and she’d returned to her hamburgers, but she fully understood what she’d agreed to. They were a couple now. They were together. And in three weeks—if they hadn’t killed each other by then—whatever happened would happen. She would not worry about it. For once in her life she would live in the moment.
Anne was at her office in town later that afternoon, and Willow had agreed to watch Olivia for a few hours. Olivia was a darling little girl, with her mother’s red hair and a temper to match. She seemed to particularly enjoy throwing things, the noisier the better. Willow found that a pot lid kept her busy, though. She would heave it a few feet, laugh at the colossal noise it made, then crawl after it and repeat the process. Meanwhile, Willow put together a special dessert for the last campfire, a peach cobbler. That wasn’t a traditional camping dish, but she couldn’t bear another night of s’mores.
The recipe wasn’t one of Anne’s, but rather a family favorite she’d plucked out of her grandmother’s recipe box. She performed the cooking tasks almost automatically, leaving her mind free to wander where it would…which was toward thoughts of Cal, of course.
