Will followed her slight nod. The boy. Linda’s son. Will had noticed Zoey’s repeated looks over her shoulder, but he’d assumed she was checking on her mother. “You mean she has a crush—”
Anne shushed him. “She’d never forgive me if she thought I told you about this. First crushes are…special.”
Will heard a funny, almost wistful note in her tone. “But she’s too young to like boys. Do you want me to drop him over the cliff? I know he’s your best friend’s son, but…”
Anne’s smile—the first he’d seen in nearly a week—made his heart dance. “I don’t think that will be necessary since it’s totally one-sided. Zoey is two whole years younger than Logan. She’s a pesky child to him.”
Will pretended to wipe sweat from his forehead. “Whew. Good thing I don’t have to do away with him. I kinda like the kid.”
Anne sipped her drink. Her gaze stayed on Will. “You’d be that kind of dad, wouldn’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Involved. Proactive. The kind who would grill his daughter’s dates, enforce curfews, check up on her friends.”
“Hell, yes,” Will said without stopping to think. The idea of some guy messing with Zoey made him growl. “I was the kind of guy every teenage girl’s father dreads. Who better to know what evil lurks in a teenage boy’s itty-bitty pea brain?”
Anne’s smile looked forced. He realized they’d wandered into dangerous territory— What-If Land. What if Will was Zoey’s father? What if Anne and Zoey lived where Will could look after her, stand up for her, help enforce the rules?
He jumped to his feet. He wasn’t ready to go there. First, he needed to talk to his grandfather. A person didn’t tangle with bulls for a living without developing fairly acute survival instincts, and Will knew he was going to need help if he had any chance at all of talking Anne into some sort of compromise.
ANNE MOVED WITH CARE. She didn’t hurt at the moment. Well, there was a definite tingle in her thighs and the muscles in her butt felt twingy, but something told her the real pain would arrive tomorrow.
“Oh, God, I’m never going to be able to get out of bed,” Linda said, hobbling to a stop beside her. “What on earth was I thinking? I sit at a desk for a living. I’m no cowgirl.”
Anne gave Linda a supportive hug. “It’s okay. I have a foam pillow I’ll lend you. You’ll live. And it was worth it, wasn’t it?”
The two started across the compound toward the house, where the tantalizing aroma of pork and spices beckoned. Anne’s mouth watered. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this hungry.
Linda snuffled. “I guess. But Logan and I didn’t quite get that touchy-feely bonding time I’d hoped for.”
Anne chuckled. “I think that time fell by the wayside when he was four, pal. He’s a guy now. You’re a mom.” Linda made a sad face, so Anne added, “But a very cool, hip, cowgirl kind of mom.”
Linda took off her dusty hat and wiped her forehead. Her pleasant face was streaked with sweat and dirt. Her blond hair lay flattened in places and her shoulders were definitely burned, but she looked happier than Anne had seen her in weeks. That might be because she’d bumped into an old friend at the reunion and he’d called to ask her out. Linda swore she wasn’t getting her hopes up, but Anne knew for a fact that love—or the possibility of love—could make you hope for things that weren’t ever going to happen.
“Hey,” Linda said, stopping abruptly. “Where’d that RV come from?”
Anne spun around. Her heart leaped at the sight of a boxy old motor home with a bizarre pink appendage attached to the back. “A.J. is home,” she cried, running—well, limping—across the compound. “Thank God.”
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN you won’t be a party to it?” Will cried, striding to the fireplace in his grandfather’s office just as the gong on the clock struck midnight.
The last of the forty or so revelers—a combination of guests, Silver Rose employees and a few neighbors who had found out about A.J.’s return—had finally dispersed a few minutes earlier. Spurred by Joy’s chili verde, burritos and icy margaritas, the impromptu fiesta had lasted way too long.
Will was exhausted and he was sure his grandfather was ready to drop from his long drive, but Will knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep without ironing out a few details of his plan with A.J.
“I said I won’t try to talk Annie into doing something she doesn’t want to do,” the older man repeated. “She’s a grown woman. She knows what’s best for her.” Before Will could protest, A.J. added, “Just like you know what you gotta do.”
Will frowned. But did he know?
They’d all heard the message Joy had blurted to the crowd when she first spotted Will. Even before he’d had a chance to greet his grandfather, Joy had announced, “The rodeo doc called, Will. He’ll be in Reno on Tuesday and he said to tell you he’s prepared to give you a green light if you pass the physical.”
Will would happily have strangled the gregarious woman for sharing his private business in public, but there hadn’t been time. Anne had rushed their guests into a serving line and ordered him to start mixing margaritas. After dinner, they’d gathered around the cottonwood to listen to A.J.’s travelogue.
“Just because Doc said he might let me ride doesn’t mean I’m going back on the circuit full bore,” Will said. “I thought maybe I’d give part-time a try. So I could spend more time here.”
A.J. coughed deliberately. “Now, hold up a second. That sounds pretty lukewarm to me. How many times have you told me the key to bull riding comes from inside? If your heart ain’t in the game, you got no business being in that chute. Ain’t that so?”
The truth left a bitter taste in Will’s mouth. He nodded.
“So, where’s your heart?”
With Anne. But would Will’s declaration of love and vow to give up bull riding be a strong enough incentive for her to quit her job and stay at the Silver Rose permanently? Was he brave enough to ask?
“What if I retire from riding and Anne decides to go back to New York anyway?”
His grandfather turned his chair and gazed at the map with his many postcards dotting the path of his trek. There weren’t any from his trip home. “Sounds to me like you want your cake and Anne’s piece, too. Life don’t come with any guarantees. But one thing I do know is that love is worth taking the gamble.”
A.J. shifted in his chair and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk so he could study Will. “You know, boy, for a person who’s ridden some of the meanest, orneriest bulls in the territory, you sure seem skittish about asking Anne to marry you.”
Marry. The word had been stalking Will for weeks but he’d hidden behind his and Anne’s agendas to avoid thinking about it.
“Well, that’s the thing, Gramps. This isn’t about eight seconds. It’s about the rest of my life.”
ANNE WALKED downstairs gingerly. Each step produced a quivering pain in her butt and thighs. The pulsating jets of the tub last night and this morning had eased some of the stiffness from yesterday’s ride, but Anne had a feeling she was going to be sore for days.
The house seemed quieter than usual, even for a Sunday. Dust motes flickered in the yellowish light of morning. She’d arranged to meet A.J. for coffee. The chaos surrounding his arrival last night had precluded any chance for a private chat. The ravenous trail riders had welcomed him home like a long-lost pilgrim and had insisted A.J. regale them with stories of his travels while they stuffed themselves on Joy’s chili verde, fresh flour tortillas, rice and beans.
Anne had been delighted to see him safely home, but she’d had her hands full with tired guests, an exhausted and wheezing daughter and her own tumultuous emotions. When he’d climbed down from the cab of the motor home to give her a hug, Anne had nearly succumbed to tears.
“It’s gonna be too hectic to talk right tonight,” he’d said, as if reading her mind. “How ’bout we have coffee in the morning?”
“It will have to be early, be
fore Zoey wakes up. She’s going to want to drive that…thing you brought home.”
Anne picked her way down the last few steps. She wasn’t looking forward to telling A.J. that she couldn’t stay beyond her three-month agreement—in fact, if he and Will would agree to it, she needed to leave sooner. After this morning’s predawn wake-up call from Roger, what choice did she have?
A.J. met her at the foot of the stairs. “Good morning, beautiful girl.”
She gave him a hug to hide her blush. “You’re good for my ego.”
He brushed back her hair clumsily. “The Silver Rose agrees with you, I’d say. My, my, look how fresh and pretty you are. Except for the sunburn on your nose.”
Anne touched the skin that still felt hot and tight even though she’d treated it with cream. “Can you believe it? I was the one walking around squirting sunscreen on people yesterday and I forgot to put any on me.” Thank goodness Will had noticed and mentioned the fact or she’d be peeling when she met with the WHC board.
“Doesn’t surprise me. Your mother was the same way—always looking out for others first.”
Anne sighed. She truly wished she were more like her mother, but if nothing else, this summer had proven that Anne was no Esther.
“What’s that sigh for?” A.J. asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Let’s grab a cup of coffee and I’ll show you,” Anne said, leading the way to the kitchen.
Joy was intently measuring flour into a crockery bowl. “Blueberry pancakes this morning,” she told them. “In honor of our returned hero.”
Now it was A.J.’s turn to blush. Anne chuckled as she led him out the back door and down the steps to the garden. “Welcome to Disasterville,” she said, opening the gate. “Home to mildew, mice and giant, horned green devils that devour everything in sight.”
A.J. followed her to the center of the garden and turned in quarterly increments to assess the damage. “Yep, tomato worms. Those pesky critters used to drive your mother crazy.
“One time she patrolled the garden at midnight with a flashlight. A guest happened to look out his window and saw a woman in a long white gown flashing a light and pacing back and forth. Nothing we said could convince him he hadn’t seen a ghost.” A.J. chuckled. “Your mother got a big kick out of that. I’m surprised she didn’t write you about it.”
Anne vaguely remembered hearing something about a “haunting,” but she hadn’t realized the story was garden-related. “Are you serious or just being nice?” she asked. “Mom had problems like this?”
Anne took his elbow and ushered him to the box where her decimated tomato plants stood. The leafless stalks reminded her of something she’d seen in photos of forest fires. “I mean, look here, A.J. I didn’t even have enough tomatoes for dinner last night. I know Mother’s tomatoes were more plentiful than this. She used to send me jars of her homemade salsa.”
He reached out and plucked a two-inch-long green worm from the plant. The beast reared back and glared at him. A.J. dropped it to the ground and crushed it under his heel, nodding with satisfaction when it exploded, sending green goo in every direction.
Anne jumped sideways with a squawk. “That’s gross,” she said, knowing she sounded exactly like her daughter.
“True, but your mother seemed to get tremendous satisfaction from squishing them.” He winked. “I think the worms were a challenge to her. She could have bought chemicals to kill them, but she liked her garden organic—even if it meant losing a few tomatoes.”
“How’d she get enough vegetables to can salsa?”
“Bought ’em.”
Anne nearly dropped her cup. “What?” she cried. “I’ve been busting my behind out here trying to be as good a gardener as my mother and you’re telling me she bought tomatoes?”
A.J. appeared to be trying not to smile. “Who said Esther was a great gardener?”
Anne pointed to the shed. “I found her laminated gardening tips in there. And all the seeds and fertilizer and stuff. Her tip sheet looks professional.”
He nodded. “It is. She copied it from some television program. Truth is, every year she ended up so mad she swore she wasn’t going to have a garden ever again. But then the seed catalogs would arrive and she’d start planning. Last fall, before she fell ill, she said this summer was going to be her glory year.” His eyes misted. “That’s why she made that how-to page and took it into town to have it laminated.”
Anne couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. “I wish I’d known.”
“Why?” he asked. “What would you have done differently?”
Anne thought a minute, remembering Will eating the winter carrots, planting peas with Zoey, plotting to exterminate the mouse that had made off with her beans. “Nothing, I guess. ’Cept maybe fumigate for tomato worms.”
A.J. put his arm around her shoulder and led her to the gate. “There’s always next year.”
Anne’s heart felt as though A.J. had lanced it with a tine of the pitchfork she’d left by the shed. How could she tell him she’d made up her mind to return to New York? And she wouldn’t be back next year, either. Any dream she had of spending her summers in Nevada was pure fantasy. Anne knew the realities of her job. Once she was back in the groove, she’d be lucky to find two weeks free, let alone three months.
Instead of walking to the porch, A.J. led her to the shade of what Anne had come to think of as the piñata tree. She would never forget her daughter’s joy—and Will’s look of surprise—when Zoey swung with wild abandon at the colorful papier-mâché pony.
A.J. lowered himself stiffly to the bench of the picnic table. Anne sat down across from him, not bothering to hide her wince.
“Will said you were quite the cowgirl. Born to the saddle, I believe were the exact words he used.”
Anne couldn’t prevent a small trill of pleasure. She’d worked hard to stay seated on her frisky mare. It pleased her that Will had noticed. She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him, either. She’d watched his muscles play under his white shirt. His lean butt molded to the saddle. His hands on the reins and, later, dripping with icy water when he handed her a drink.
God, she was going to miss his touch. His smile. His presence.
“I have to go, A.J.,” Anne said before thoughts of Will could make her change her mind. “My boss called me this morning on my cell phone. He said he needs me in the office as soon as possible.”
A.J. didn’t say anything for a minute. He drank his coffee and let the awakening sounds of the ranch flow between them. This was Anne’s favorite time of day. The dew made everything sparkly—even the fresh cow pies that provided fodder for the little birds that seemed to inhabit every tree and bush.
“I can’t say as I’m surprised, Annie,” he said, catching her daydreaming. “I was thinking about what to say to you all the way across Colorado, and I finally came to the conclusion that you’re a grown woman. You oughta know your own mind.”
Yeah, well, maybe. Or maybe not.
“I imagine you’re anxious to get back to the city, but I have a favor to ask.” He shrugged. “I know I used up a lot of favors this summer, but this one would mean a lot to me.”
Anne swallowed noisily. “What is it?”
“I was hoping you might let Zoey stay a bit longer. I promise to get her back to you before school starts, but one thing I discovered on my trip was how much I miss being a grandpa. That little girl was always on my mind—she reminds me a lot of Esther.”
“She does?” A.J. nodded, his eyes misty. “Although I hope she doesn’t drive like her grandma. Esther had a bit of a lead foot, you know.”
“That’s right,” Anne said, stifling a few tears of her own. “She knew all the local highway patrol officers by their first names, didn’t she?”
Anne’s mind raced. Did she dare leave Zoey here? Joy was going to have her hands full combining office duties with the kitchen chores. Would Will be here to help or was he returning to bull riding, as she’d understood from his phone
message last night?
A.J. winked. “Three or four of ’em came to her funeral. She’d have been so pleased.”
Anne took a deep breath. They hadn’t talked about what happened in Maine. He spoke before she could ask.
“It was peaceful, Annie.”
Anne reached out and covered his wrist with her hand. “It must have been really difficult. I’m not sure I could have done it.”
He sniffled and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. “Now, that’s where I disagree. From what I’ve heard and seen since I got back, I’d have to say there isn’t much of anything that you can’t accomplish once you set your mind to it.”
In business, maybe. Too bad her personal life wasn’t that simple. “A.J., I don’t know how to say this. Will and I have grown close this summer. We care for each other but our worlds aren’t mutually compatible.”
As if on cue, Will crossed the compound toward the barn, apparently unaware of their presence. Anne tried to picture her life without him in it. To her dismay, she couldn’t even bring to mind an image of her apartment. Her building. Her street.
A.J.’s lack of surprise made her ask, “Will told you about us, didn’t he?”
“Didn’t have to. His feelings for you are pretty easy to spot, but he did ask me for advice,” A.J. answered.
“What did…? No, that’s between you and Will. It doesn’t matter, anyway. I heard the message Joy took from the team doctor,” she said, picturing Will’s initial look of surprise—and she was certain glee—when Joy said the words back on the circuit. Remembering that look helped strengthen Anne’s resolve. “If I do leave Zoey here, A.J., you have to promise not to take her to the bull riding. I hate to think what would happen if Will got hurt right in front of her.”
“You have my word that if my grandson rides in the Labor Day Buck-Off, me and Zoey will be right there.”
“Thank you,” she said, starting to rise. “Now, I guess I’d better tell Zoey the good news. I know she’ll be thrilled. And, in all honesty, this will be better for her. August in the city is particularly bad for allergies. The smog, the heat—”
A Cowboy Summer (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 25
