“And what’s in DC for you?” Josh blurted out, earning him a justifiably startled glance. But dammit, somebody had to say it. “Seriously? Because it sure as hell doesn’t sound like you’ve got a whole lot of good memories from there, either—”
“A future,” she lobbed back. “Or at least a promise of one. Opportunity—”
“That job offer, you mean?”
A second, then another, preceded, “Yes.”
“And there’s more to life than work.”
“There’s nothing for me here, Josh,” she said, sadly. But more than that, as though the very thought exhausted her. “Maybe if I felt more nostalgic—”
“Screw nostalgia,” Josh said, angrier than he probably should be. “We’re talking about now, dammit. And now there are people here who care about you, who could help take care of you—”
The words were no sooner out of his mouth than he realized how deeply he’d put his foot in it. Especially when she gave him almost a pitying look.
“People?” she said at last. “Meaning you? The person who said he refused to get involved with anyone else unless he was sure he and that hypothetical someone else were on the same page?”
Did she even realize what she was saying? Or was he sorely misinterpreting things? Which was entirely possible. See, this was what he hated about trying to talk to women, how they never came right out and said what they meant, but danced around the subject like it was up to you to figure out the coded message.
Except, even if he wasn’t, no way in hell was he going to push. Because that had worked out so well before, hadn’t it?
“As a friend, Dee. A friend. Like I said. And what’s so awful about that? About letting somebody be there for you?”
Their gazes tangled for a good, long moment before she said, very gently, “That wasn’t just a friendly kiss, Josh. And aside from all the other stuff, I can’t...” Her throat worked again. “I can’t be what you and Austin need. Who you need.”
“And that’s just crazy talk—”
“Which only proves my point, that there’s way too much stuff in my head to sort out for me to be in a relationship with anybody. If nothing else...” She looked down at the baby, then released a breath. “My last experience with this one’s father was a wake-up call. Just like yours was with Austin’s mom. Only in my case...”
Her gaze brushed his again. “God knows I still have a lot of growing up to do, but at least my eyes are a little more open than they were before. And for Katie’s sake, for yours and Austin’s, I’m not about to take a risk on something where the odds aren’t exactly in our favor to begin with. I can’t come back, Josh. Because I can’t go back to being who I was before.”
“And who is that?” Josh said through a tight throat.
Her smile was soft. “The little girl still looking for somebody to connect with. To...complete her.” He saw her eyes fill, and his own burned in response. “And it would be way too easy to let you be that person.”
Holy hell. The room positively reeked of her fear, rolling off her in waves. She was right about one thing, though—whatever was going on in her head had nothing to do with him. Not deep down. So maybe he should be grateful she was giving him an out.
“Well,” Josh finally said, “I expect Mallory will be pleased.”
Dee shut her eyes for a moment, then nodded. “So you’re good with her proposal?”
“I think that’s what they call the best of a bad lot,” he said, then left the room, yanking his barn coat back on to walk outside, listening to his son’s laughter, the dog’s barking, as his gaze swept over the land he’d never imagined might be his one day. That now, after coming close to losing it altogether, would be his forever. Or at least half of it. Which was more than he could have ever hoped for a few months ago.
So how come he’d never felt more empty in his life?
* * *
When Josh returned, Deanna suggested she and Katie move to the foreman’s cabin. Josh, however, not only pointed out that moving all of the baby’s stuff would be a pain in the butt, but if Deanna needed him in the middle of the night he could hardly leave Austin alone in the Big House, could he?
“Anyway,” he’d said, not looking at her as he loaded the dishwasher after a meal that redefined awkward silence once Austin left the table, “it’s only for a few days. I think we can muddle through this like grown-ups.”
In other words, this was stacking up to be one helluva crappy Christmas. Although God knew she wasn’t any stranger to those.
As least Austin’s infectious excitement took the edge off Deanna’s increasing regret. Not that she’d made the wrong decision, but that she couldn’t figure out how to make it right with Josh. Or Austin, who clearly hadn’t yet reconciled himself to the inevitable.
“But I want you to stay!” he’d say, over and over, until Deanna thought her heart would crack right in two and fall out of her chest. As if the look in Josh’s eyes, whenever she was foolish enough to let their gazes mingle, wasn’t doing that already.
Most of which—leaving out the gaze-mingling-with-Josh-part—she shared with Val as they pushed their daughters’ strollers along Main Street on Christmas Eve eve, barely glancing in windows they’d both seen a dozen times before. But then, shopping wasn’t the point, as Val pointed out when she’d called that morning simply to chat, and after barely a minute declared Deanna clearly needed to get out of that house before she lost it. Of course, it was obvious she’d only called to begin with because Deanna was guessing Josh had said something to his twin, who’d then said something to his wife, because that’s how small towns worked. Not to mention families, Val said with a shrug when Deanna had confronted her about her motives behind the invitation.
“Trust me,” the blonde said when they stopped in front of a bookstore/gift shop to put Risa’s mittens back on for the third time in five minutes, “No one is immune to that it-takes-a-village thing they’ve got going on here. As in, nailed.” Straightening, Val got behind the stroller and resumed pushing.
“And you’re not part of that?”
“Oh, hell, yeah,” the blonde said, tossing Deanna a grin. “Except I’d like to think, because I’ve been on the receiving end of all that helpfulness, that I can be an impartial listener. Which I’m guessing is what you need most right now. And unlike a guy, I won’t offer any advice.”
Deanna glanced down at Katie, sacked out in her own stroller, her precious little cheeks stained pink from the cold. “They do tend to do that, don’t they?”
“You kidding? Loose ends tend to make men real twitchy. Especially those men.”
A frown bit into Deanna’s forehead. “Loose ends?”
Her new friend chuckled. “I get that you feel leaving’s the best thing for you. Not about to argue the point, because who am I to say? But I will say you don’t sound all that happy about it, either. So, yeah. Loose ends. Trust me,” Val said on a sigh. “I’ve been there. So I know what you’re saying, that you have to figure out your own life, nobody else can do that for you. That doesn’t make the limbo period before you do any easier.” She paused. “Don’t know if this helps or not, but with Levi and me...” Val’s breath frosted in front of her face when she blew out. “Knowing what I wanted didn’t make me any less afraid of it. In fact, it petrified me.”
“What makes you think—?”
“Oh, honey...” Val turned to her, something close to pity shimmering in her pretty blue eyes, and Deanna sighed.
“Is it that obvious?” she said, and now Val laughed, only to sober a moment later, her forehead scrunched.
“Like I said, not gonna offer any advice. Don’t know you well enough to do that, for one thing. But in my case, I finally had to ask myself whether I’d be happier with Levi or without him. If protecting whatever I thought needed protecting was worth giving up what
I thought I needed protecting from.”
“And is it weird, that I actually understood that?”
Val chuckled again as they approached a storefront with a For Sale sign in the grimy window. “Being happy...it’s really not about where you are, is it? It’s about who you are. Who you’re with. At least, that’s what I finally figured out.” Tenting her mittened hand over her eyes, Val peered inside for a moment before meeting Deanna’s gaze again.
“I’ve got everything I need,” she said, “right here in this two-bit town. Although I sure didn’t feel that way when I was a kid, when I couldn’t imagine ever being happy here. Now I couldn’t imagine being happier anywhere else.” Underneath her heavy hoodie, her shoulders bumped. “Things change. People change. And I’m a firm believer that happiness—or misery—is more of a choice than we sometimes think. And that’s all I’m gonna say about that.”
Then she tilted back her head, looking up at the store’s faded sign. “I remember this place from when I was a kid.”
“Same here. They sold tacky tourist crap.” Deanna grinned. “Coolest store, ever.”
“Seriously. I heard the owners moved to Tucson, the kids aren’t interested in keeping the business going.” Laughter from a couple of bag-laden nonlocals emerging from a nearby gift shop briefly diverted the blonde’s attention. “You ask me, though, the place won’t stay vacant for long. Not the way those ski resort types spend the big bucks, according to Annie. And wouldn’t it make a perfect gallery?” Her gaze slid back to Deanna’s, a smile snaking across her mouth. “Snag ’em before they find their way down to Taos—”
From her pocket, Val’s phone chimed. “Shoot, I didn’t realize it’d gotten so late, I need to pick up Josie from school and get back to my pies for tomorrow—”
“No problem.” Deanna smiled. “But it was nice to get out of my own head for a bit. So, go.” She shooed Val away. “Fetch. Bake. I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“Of course.”
“Okay. But if you need to talk more,” she said over her shoulder as she started down the street, “call me. Or text, whatever.”
Then she was gone, leaving Deanna standing in front of the empty store. Following Val’s lead, she peeked inside...
Her phone rang, scaring the bejeebers out of her. She smiled, though, when she saw Gus’s number on the display.
“Just callin’ to check up on my girl,” the old housekeeper said. “Both of you, actually. So how’s it going?”
The phone to her ear, Deanna squatted in front of the stroller to rearrange the baby’s little cap, which had somehow fallen down over her eyes. Another clump of tourists wandered by, shopping totes in hand, smiling at Katie as they passed.
“It’s going okay,” Deanna said over the knot in her throat as she got to her feet again.
Gus paused, then said, “Josh tells me you’re gonna sell your half of the Vista to Zach and Mallory?”
“Mallory, yes. To use as a therapy facility.”
Another pause. “Win-win, huh?”
“Yep. So how’s things by you?” she said, staring inside the vacant shop again.
“Good. Really good, in fact. Like I’m finally where I belong.”
Deanna frowned. “You didn’t feel like you belonged in Whispering Pines?”
“When your daddy was still alive, sure. And you know I always felt like an honorary Talbot,” he said on another short laugh. “But it really didn’t feel like home anymore. This does.”
“Get out.”
Another belly laugh preceded, “Crazy, huh? Especially after a million years of thinkin’ I’d rather jab a stick in my eye than come back down here. But you know what? God has a way of puttin’ us where we belong, not where we think we’re supposed to be. So I’m glad I listened. Although if you’d asked me six months ago if I could see myself living down here again...” He laughed again. “I’d’ve said you were loco. So. When you going back east?”
“Um...right after the New Year.”
“That soon? Okay, keep in touch, honey—”
“Mom hated the Vista, you know,” Deanna blurted out, not even knowing why. “And eventually it killed her, being so unhappy. I remember, how trapped she felt. Same as I did—”
“No,” Gus said, his voice surprisingly strong. “Not the same at all. Holy hell—is that what you’ve thought all these years? That your mama hated the ranch?”
“Kinda hard to miss, Gus.”
“Meanin’ your father never told you the truth about that, either.” On a huge sigh, the old man muttered something in Spanish Deanna didn’t entirely get. “If that sweet lady was trapped by anything, it was her illness. Not the tumor, what she lived with for years before that. The doctors, your daddy—they tried everything, but—”
“Gus—what are you talking about?”
“Depression. You really didn’t know? From the time she was a girl, they said. Although it apparently got worse after you were born. She had good days, sure, but...”
Deanna pressed her gloved hand to her chest as images, incidents, that had always felt fuzzy around the edges flooded her thoughts, suddenly in almost painfully sharp focus. Of course now, as an adult, it made sense—her mother’s withdrawals and not wanting to get out of bed, her false cheer when she was awake. But then...
“I remember,” she said softly. “Oh, God... I remember.”
Gus pushed out another breath. “Your daddy—he wasn’t thinking straight, after your mama died. And for a long time after. Never did get over feeling like he’d failed, somehow. Even though it wasn’t his fault. And then your aunt came out, and she convinced him—”
Deanna’s blood ran cold. “I’d be better off with her.”
“Or at least better off not there,” Gus said in a tone that strongly suggested there was no love lost there. “And your father was grasping at straws. The Talbots tried telling him it was only you being a teenager that made you moody, then grief after your mama died. And that even if you had been ill like Mrs. Blake, sending you away wouldn’t’ve ‘cured’ it. But your daddy did what he thought was right. And nothing and nobody was gonna change his mind.”
“I thought...” She cleared her throat. “So it wasn’t about Josh?”
“Oh, that played a part in it, sure it did. Because your father was definitely scared you’d end up falling for each other, and then...well.”
“History would repeat itself. Which is what I’d always figured, about why he’d sent me away.”
“Except there was more to it than that. A lot more.”
Tears blurring her vision, Deanna sagged against the grimy window. “Holy crap. Only...eventually he realized he’d made a mistake?”
Gus sighed again. “Lookin’ death in the face does that to a person, I guess. But you gotta know, honey—your mama loved the Vista, she really did. Just like she loved your daddy. And she loved you like I’ve never seen another mother love her child.”
Blinking, Deanna looked down at her own daughter, feeling her heart shatter. “I know she did.”
“And your daddy loved you, too. Even if he had a weird way of showing it.”
She snuffed a little laugh. “By pushing me away, you mean.”
“By doin’ what he could to protect you.”
A sudden, sharp wind zipped down the street, making her shiver, even as she felt as though a boulder had finally rolled off her chest. “Thanks, Gus. For telling me all that. Seriously—”
“An’ there’s something else you need to know. When you were little, I never saw anything but a happy little girl who loved to be outdoors and ride horses and go tubing in the snow. If you were lonely...well. I sure as hell never saw it. An’ I think I would’ve. Since you never were any good about keeping whatever you were thinking or feeling from showing in that sweet face of yours
. And Dios mio,” he said with a chuckle, “you weren’t afraid of a damn thing back then. Some of the stuff you pulled scared the crap out of all of us. I remember thinkin’ to myself, there’s a gal who’s gonna get whatever she puts her mind to.”
And now she could hardly breathe. Or hear, for all those words crashing and clanging in her brain.
Words she’d clearly needed to hear, crashing and clanging aside.
Swiping a hot tear off her nearly frozen cheek, Deanna said softly, “I love you, Gus. Merry Christmas.”
“Aw, I love you, too, honey. And send me lots of pictures of that baby, you hear?”
“Absolutely,” Deanna said, then disconnected the call, turning away from the next round of passersby so there’d be no witnesses to her losing it right out in public.
Which meant she was facing the empty store again...
Her breath hitched. Oh, hell, no.
No.
Because Gus’s words didn’t change anything, really. Her life wasn’t here, hadn’t been here in years...
Because it wasn’t enough, simply wanting something.
Was it?
She leaned closer to the window, like some Dickensian orphan seeing hope and promise and dreams-come-true inside, and she sputtered a laugh.
“Get real,” she mumbled to herself, steering her sleeping baby back toward where she’d parked the truck, as the strains of “O Come All Ye Faithful” spilled out over the square from the Catholic church’s PA system, a block away.
Joyful and triumphant? Not so much, Deanna thought as she hauled little Miss Dead Weight out of the stroller and strapped her into her car seat, telling herself it was the cold making her eyes sting.
Although she couldn’t blame the temperature for her heartache.
Chapter Twelve
“Looks like she’s doing great,” Zach said, patting the horse’s rump before frowning at Josh. “Which is more than I can say for you.”
The Rancher's Expectant Christmas Page 18
