0373659458 (R)

by Karen Templeton

  “What he is, is all balled up about tonight. Why I’m here.” Zach’s voice softened. “What’s going on between us.”

  Just the words “between us” made those nerve endings still in touch with her brain jump to attention. But she wasn’t about to read more into it than there was. Or could be. “So...?”

  “I’m guessing I’m about to get grilled. You okay with that?”

  “Him grilling you?”

  That got a brief laugh. “No, taking him with me. Maybe watching me stick my hand up some mare’s butt.”

  “You kidding? You’ll make his day.”

  He chuckled. “So what’s your schedule like?”

  “The ruins’ve been there for centuries, they’ll wait a day or two.”

  “Tomorrow morning, then? I’ll pick him up after I drop Jeremy off at school?”

  “Sounds good.” Figuring it was safe, in the dark, Mallory reached for Zach’s hand, wishing she could kiss it. Kiss him. Do a lot more than that. “So what’re you going to tell him?”

  Smiling, he entwined their fingers. “Haven’t figured that part out yet.”

  Not that she’d expected some sort of declaration, but still. She sucked in a breath and said, “A warning, though. My mother’s intuition tells me he’s putting on an act for my benefit.”

  Frowning, Zach let go to stuff his hands in his back pockets. “What kind of an act?”

  “I’m not sure. Although...it’s almost as if he’s being too sweet. Too...agreeable. Not a single head-butt since he’s been here.” A breath left her lungs. “As I said, it’s only a hunch. I know what he says, that everything’s fine, but...”

  “You don’t believe him.”

  “No.”

  “And you want me to pry?”

  “And is it weird, that you don’t sound even remotely bothered by the idea?”

  “Heh. My mother used to pay me to dig up dirt on my brothers. You are looking at the master, lady.”

  Mallory laughed. “I’ll bet. But, no. Because that would be weird. Figured you could use a heads-up, however.”

  He nodded, then checked the door, as though wondering where his son was, before leaning against the truck’s bumper. “So you’re taking Landon up to the resort?”

  A smile pulled at her mouth, even as her heart punched into her throat. “Can’t put it off any longer. Especially since that’s part of the reason I took a house here. I need closure, and I think he needs...” She paused. “Context, maybe? Or that could just be crazy talk.”

  “Doesn’t sound crazy at all. Not to me.”

  “No, I guess it wouldn’t. Considering it’s you I have to thank for shoving me off my butt to begin with. Metaphorically speaking, anyway. Who got me up on that horse. Who made me realize I had a lot more fears to handle than I wanted to own up to. Who...” Mallory’s eyes stung. Hell. Leave it to her to turn a simple goodbye into some reality show emotion fest. “Who’s been the first person since my injury to see past it.”

  Oh, dear Lord...the look on his face... Finally he said, “I don’t believe that. Your mother—”

  “Has been a rock, absolutely. And I’m more grateful for her support than I can say. But you’re more like...” She smiled. “The river that rushes around the rocks, sweeping along everything it its path. And apparently that’s exactly what I needed. Not only to be accepted as I am, but to be pushed past that. So thank you.”

  “I...” Zach pushed out a nervous laugh. “I don’t know what to say. Other than—”

  “You weren’t doing anything special?” she said, teasing. “No, you were simply being who you are. Which for this woman is pretty darn special.”

  In the deep silence of an autumn country night, Mallory could hear the hiss of inhalation, the almost whistled exhale as Zach shook his head. Then he walked back to her, squatting in front of her to take her hands in his, and in the dull glow of the porch light she could see the apology in his eyes.

  “You’re pretty darn special, too, honey,” he whispered, gently kissing her fingers before levering himself to his feet again, not five seconds before Jeremy finally appeared, hitching up his pants as he tromped out to the truck. Zach opened the door and watched the kid climb in, then looked back at her, those eyes killing her all over again.

  “Thank your mama again for dinner. And tell Landon I’ll pick him up around eight-thirty.”

  She waved to them as he pulled out of her driveway, then wheeled back up the ramp and into the house. From the kitchen as Dorelle cleaned—she’d shooed Mallory out when she’d tried to help—came vintage country music. Patsy Cline or some such. Twangy and angsty and not at all what Mallory wanted to hear right now. So she went down the hall to Landon’s room, where he was lying flat on his back, a paperback book over his head as he read.

  “Zach’s picking you up at eight-thirty tomorrow morning to go with him.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Still holding the book aloft, he turned his head and grinned at her. “Cool.”

  Silence shuddered between them for several seconds. They both knew this was about more than a sudden interest in animal husbandry, but no way was she getting up in the kid’s grill about it. She and Zach were going to have to work out whatever they needed to work out. Especially since she had no more idea what was going on in Zach’s head than she did her son’s. And yes, that aggravated her control issues out the wazoo. But whatchagonna do?

  Then she said, “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

  The book lowered to his chest. “Um...yeah?”

  “Well. Okay. Wanted to make sure we were clear on that.”

  “We are. It’s all good, Mom. I swear.” Then he lifted the book over his head again, signaling the end of the conversation.

  God help her, her mother was singing along with Patsy when Mallory got to the kitchen. Only Dorelle couldn’t sing to save her soul, so that was a problem. For Mallory, anyway. Clearly not Dorelle. Although when she saw Mallory, she stopped singing, shut the dishwasher and parked one hand on her hip, and Mallory decided she’d take the singing, any day.

  “What?” she said, wheeling to the fridge for a bottle of water. “Or should I say, what now?”

  “Other than those looks you and Zach were giving each other were like to set the table on fire? Nothing.”

  “They were not. Jeez, Mama, give me some credit—”

  “You really don’t think I know what happened between you two when you went down to Corrales? Not that I’m criticizing,” she said, pressing one hand to her chest. “Far from it. In fact, let me be the first to sing, Hallelujah.” Which she did, in a warbly soprano that made Edgar roll his eyes at Mallory. Make it stop? Please? “But I’m also guessing doing the deed solved nothing?”

  Mallory took a long swig of her water, then twisted the cap back on the bottle. “What makes you think,” she said in a low voice, “it was supposed to solve anything?”

  “So you admit it?”

  “I’m thirty-eight, for cripes’ sake—”

  “Hence the hallelujah...ing. Oh, baby—”

  “And you have clearly forgotten how fast I can take my booty out of here. Mama,” she said over her mother’s huff, “this was about...getting out of the damn starting gate. Not making it to the finish line.”

  Mama crossed her arms. “So you’re telling me you—you, of all people—are okay with only running part of the race?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve mellowed.” Her mother snorted. “Then how’s about I’ve learned to play the hand I’ve been given? Since it’s not like I had much choice in that, did I?”

  “Oooh...” Mama’s eyes got all soft, which in turn softened something inside Mallory, and...crap. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

  Willing her eyes to stop stinging, Mallory tapped the bottle against her knee for a moment, then met her mother’s gaze. “You remember when I was up for that role in an amazing movie a few years back? How much I wanted that part, would’ve killed for it, even? But I didn’t get it
. And, yeah, I was disappointed—”

  “Russell said you cried for a week.”

  “Okay, so extremely disappointed. But I got over it. And then came the part, the one I got the Oscar for. Which I couldn’t’ve taken if the other role hadn’t fallen through. Things work out...” Dammit. She stopped. Swallowed. “Things work out the way they’re supposed to. And how I feel about Zach doesn’t change the fact that he’s not ready to move forward. That he’s the one who can’t, or won’t, finish the race—”

  “He told you that?”

  “Not in those words, obviously, but yes. Many, many times. But even if he hadn’t, the eyes don’t lie. So you know what? I’ve decided to be grateful for his friendship, that he makes me laugh, that...he made me feel beautiful, and worthy, and worshipped. That he sees this,” she said, pressing a hand to her heart, before sweeping it across her legs. “Not these. And in any case...”

  She glanced back toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms before meeting her mother’s gaze again. “Right now, it’s all about Landon. What he needs. And until I get that figured out—assuming I ever do—what I want comes a distant second.”

  For once, her mother seemed at a loss for words. But underneath the kitchen’s pot lights, her eyes glistened before she closed the few feet between then to bend over, pulling Mallory’s head to her chest. “What on earth did I do to get such a dear, sweet, brave daughter?”

  And Mallory sighed and held her mother tight. Because sometimes, you just needed your Mama. No matter how old you got.

  Or how much she sometimes drove you stark raving bonkers.

  * * *

  “So how come I can’t go with you and Landon?”

  “Because you have school,” Zach said to Jeremy in a reasonably reasonable voice, considering how little sleep he’d gotten the night before. In fact, they’d gotten out the door too late to avoid the school buses now clogging the school’s drop-off lane, spewing forth the kids who lived out in the sticks. They moved forward a whole three feet.

  “I could skip it for one day,” Jeremy said around a bite of the breakfast burrito they’d picked up from Annie’s. A rare treat, but one Zach readily indulged on those days when breakfast from the diner was getting it together. “Nobody would care.”

  “I would. And no, you don’t get a vote.”

  “That’s what Mom used to say,” Jeremy said, and Zach’s heart twisted. He looked over at his oldest son, the new jeans he’d bought not two months before already threadbare on the knees. And too short. Making a mental note to get some new clothes for his growing child in the not-too-distant future, Zach looked back out the windshield.

  “You remember that?”

  “Yeah,” Jeremy said, like it was no big deal. “I could get out here, you don’t have to wait—”

  “And incur the wrath of Mrs. Aguilar?” he said, nodding toward the down-vest-armored crossing guard who’d been ensuring the safety of Whispering Pines’ youngest since Zach and his brothers were kids. “No way. Besides, it’s not like I can move around the traffic, anyway.” Although more was the pity on that count. Propping his wrist on the steering wheel, he tapped the gas again to move forward another inch. “So you liked Landon, huh?”

  “Uh-huh. Mainly because he didn’t treat me like I was some dumb little kid.”

  “That’s because you aren’t.”

  “Yeah, well, tell that to the big kids.”

  Zach almost smiled, remembering the grief he and Colin gave the twins when they were younger. Then he frowned. “Anybody being mean to you?”

  Jeremy shook his head, which this frosty morning was swallowed up in a brightly colored superhero beanie at total odds with his olive drab jacket—his pick—and pumpkin-colored hoodie. “Nah, mostly they act like we don’t exist.” He reached up to scratch his forehead under the hat’s cuff. “So it was nice, that Landon wasn’t like that.”

  “I suppose so.” Aaand they were almost there. “But you know he’s going back to LA, right?”

  The boy twisted in his seat, making the hat slip down almost over his eyes. “I bet if you married his mom he’d stay.”

  “That’s not happening, buddy,” Zach said once his throat unlocked, sending up a short, but pithy, Why now, God? “And before you ask, for many reasons I can’t go into right now.” Out of the corner of his eye—because he’d lose it if he faced the kid right now—he saw Jeremy clamp shut his mouth. “But the main one is, they’re only visiting. Mallory, and her mom, and Landon...they don’t really live here.”

  “Then why’d they buy the horses?”

  “Plenty of part-timers own horses and stable them elsewhere when they’re not in residence. Waffles and Macy will stay at the Vista.”

  “How can people live in two places? I don’t get it.”

  At least that made Zach smile. “Some people have houses all over the world. So they spend a few months here, a few months there...” He shrugged. “It works for them.”

  “Well, that’s just nuts,” Jeremy muttered, grabbing his backpack off the floor as they finally pulled into the drop-off zone and the kid undid his seat belt. But before he got out, he twisted around to give Zach a hug, something he imagined would get knocked off the checklist before too much longer. Then he leaned back and said, “So maybe we could go live in LA. Wherever the heck that is,” before pushing open the door and disappearing into the swarm of short people trekking toward the school’s entrance.

  His head spinning, Zach pulled out of the loop and back onto the road, half tempted to call Mallory and renege on the offer to let Landon ride shotgun this morning. Between last night’s conversation and his son’s “suggestion” he wasn’t sure he was up for whatever her son was about to lay on him.

  Not to mention he wasn’t sure he wanted to see her right now.

  Because he did. Way too much. All that stuff she said about him being special, simply for doing what needed doing...

  But he didn’t call, didn’t back out, didn’t turn and run as if a pissed-off bull was on his tail. Because the other stuff she’d said? About facing her fears?

  Yeah. That.

  * * *

  Mallory wheeled out onto the porch behind Landon, grabbing his hand before he could zip away, and Zach’s breath clogged in his lungs so hard it hurt. But it wasn’t her beauty threatening to derail his self-control, although the way the sun tangled with her hair definitely made him dry-mouthed. And let’s not even get into what her smile was doing to him. But far more than those, it was her spirit, her honesty and strength and generosity that shook him up so much he could barely think straight.

  Not to mention her courage.

  Fine, so maybe he’d helped her unlock, or rediscover, or whatever, her confidence enough for her to finally face whatever demons still lurked up at the resort. And absolutely, Zach was proud of her. But damned if he was about to take credit for what had always been there. And once she realized that, she’d have even less reason to hang around.

  However, if he’d learned anything in life, it was that telling somebody something—especially if that somebody was female—before they were ready to hear it rarely ended well. For anybody. People simply had to come to these conclusions in their own good time, and without what would surely be considered outside interference.

  So he’d take the boy up to the Vista, say whatever it came to him to say, and try his hardest not to think about how pretty and smart and kind his mama was and how much Zach was gonna miss her when she left. Even if that was best for all parties concerned.

  His heart pounding, Zach lowered the window, trying to act like none of this was any big deal when it was all a very big deal. And everyone here knew it.

  “You ready?” he said to the boy, who nodded, then grudgingly bestowed a peck on his mother’s cheek before tromping over to the truck and getting in, emitting what could only be described as a stench of distrust.

  “Have fun!” Mallory called out, and Landon grunted something in reply as he latched his seat belt
, and then they were on their way, one obviously tormented adolescent and the man who was the cause of the torment.

  But not for long, Zach hoped.

  * * *

  Now that he was alone with Zach, Landon realized he had no idea what to say, or ask, or anything.

  “There’s food in the bag,” Zach said mildly, nodding toward a huge white bag at Landon’s feet. “Didn’t know what you liked, so I got a selection.”

  Landon had actually already eaten a bowl of cereal, but the smells coming from that bag were making his stomach growl like crazy. So he pulled it up on his lap and dug through. Something that looked like a long, skinny doughnut with cinnamon sugar. A takeout carton with scrambled eggs. A tortilla wrapped around more scrambled eggs and bacon and potatoes, he thought. A fruit cup, which was sorta lame, but he supposed some people liked it. A couple bottles of OJ.

  “Which one do you want?” he asked, hoping Zach would say the fruit cup. Or the plain scrambled eggs.

  “I already ate, take whatever you like.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure. Really.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” He took out the skinny doughnut thing, frowning at it. “What is this?”

  “A churro. Traditional Mexican dessert, but works for breakfast, too.”

  Cinnamon sugar rained all over Landon’s front as he took his first bite of the chewy pastry. “This is really good,” he said around a full mouth.

  “Gotta warn you though, they’re addictive,” Zach said, and Landon giggled. And took another bite as he looked every-which-way out the truck’s windows, at the flat gold landscape on one side, the mountains on the other, the deep blue sky. It wasn’t like he’d never seen blue sky before—they’d traveled and stuff—but this looked unreal. Still chewing, he frowned, trying to find the right words to describe it.

  “The sky...”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s like...when I take a breath? I feel like I’m breathing it in.”

  Zach shot him a grin. “Never thought of it like that. But you’re right.” He breathed in himself, slowly let it out. “That’s exactly it.”

  Licking his fingers, Landon opened the bag again. Was it weird, how okay he felt with somebody he’d basically just met? Or maybe that’s the way stuff was supposed to work, who knew? “What’s the thing with all the stuff inside?”