Amused, Cole made his apologies. “Sorry. But yeah, to answer your question, I do. I think that they might get married. They’re both intelligent people with a bit of life tucked under their belts. At their age they realize that everybody’s got a limited amount of time assigned to them on this earth and if they’re lucky enough to find someone they care about, someone who cares back, well then, why not grab that bit of happiness while they still can?” Cole glanced at her. “You have any objections to that?”
“To what? My father marrying your mother?” she asked to make sure they were talking about the same thing. Try as she might not to, she couldn’t help drawing a parallel between their parents and them. She just hoped he wasn’t doing the same thing. “No, no objections. I think it’s great,” she said honestly. “Your mom only lost your dad eighteen months ago. My mother’s been gone for the last twenty-five years. That’s a really long time for someone to be alone.”
“He wasn’t exactly alone,” Cole pointed out. “He had you and Wayne for most of that time and he had—has,” he corrected himself, “the ranch to run. The accident put him out of commission for a while, but he’ll be back in the field again before long. Your dad’s a rancher. Ranchers don’t retire. They keep on working. It’s in their blood.”
She knew what he was trying to say, but he was wrong. “It’s not the same thing,” she pointed out. “Work keeps you busy, but it doesn’t take the place of loving someone or being loved by them.”
There was silence for a long moment. Cole turned his attention away from the long, desolate road that seemed to spread out to infinity before him. Instead, he looked at her.
“No,” he agreed quietly, “it’s definitely not the same thing. Not even close.”
The tone of his voice made her a little uneasy, warning her that she might not like where this could go if she wasn’t careful. Because if he asked her what she was afraid of, she wasn’t sure what her answer would be. Confused, she wasn’t sure what the right answer was in this case.
Was she supposed to follow her heart, or her brain?
When in doubt, Ronnie decided, change the subject. And she did.
Quickly.
They talked about Wayne and tomorrow’s barn raising and everything else she could think of to put between them and the one topic she didn’t feel up to discussing.
At least not yet.
And perhaps not at all. Because, more than anything, she admitted to herself, she was afraid that what he would say was not what she, in her heart of hearts, really wanted to hear.
It was better never to know than to know when it was the wrong answer.
Chapter Fifteen
Ronnie decided that going to the barn raising at the Haineses’ ranch and seeing all his neighbors would do Wayne more good than harm. But first she made absolutely sure that she extracted a promise from her brother that he was would remain seated on the sidelines for the entire time they were there. Under no circumstances was he to join in the work.
To help out, Gene Haines said he and his oldest son, Rick, would bring an old armchair out of the house and have it waiting for Wayne on the back porch. That way he’d have a clear view of the event.
Still somewhat worried about how stubborn her brother could be, Ronnie also made Wayne promise to let her know the moment he started to feel tired. She was determined that he wasn’t going to push himself too much. They would go home the second she saw him beginning to fade.
This was an entirely new experience for Wayne. He wasn’t accustomed to being dictated to. He was always the one who made the rules. Grumbling, telling Ronnie that she was behaving like some power-crazed dictator, Wayne finally surrendered and gave her his word when, looking to Cole for backup, he found himself turned down and standing alone against his younger sister.
“Traitor,” Wayne accused his friend, only half-kidding.
Like everything else, Cole took it in stride. “Hey, don’t look at me. Ronnie’ll have my head if I take your side. And right now, I’m betting she’s a lot stronger than you are.”
“She’s also making more sense,” Ronnie interjected, referring to herself in the third person, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Wayne.
“See? What did I tell you? She’s turned into a dictator. She even talks like one,” Wayne pointed out as he eased himself into the front passenger seat of his truck. “Boy, give someone a little power—”
“Complain all you want, it doesn’t change anything. Face it, boy, you’re outnumbered,” Amos told his son as he climbed into the truck behind him. Christopher was already in his seat, strapped in and impatient to get going.
Ronnie smiled to herself as she drove to the Haineses’ ranch. For the first time since she’d arrived in Redemption, her father sounded like his old self. Things, she thought, were going to be all right. At least for them, she added as her thoughts shifted to Cole.
As far as her own life went, well, that continued to be a very messy situation. But just for today, she was going to pretend that all was well there, too. Worrying about it wasn’t going to change a thing. It would just make her waste what precious time she had left.
WHEN THEY ARRIVED AT THE RANCH, Ronnie lost no time in getting her brother situated. The armchair was just where Mr. Haines had said it would be.
“Consider it your new throne,” she teased.
“Don’t feel right about not helping out,” Wayne complained.
She kissed his cheek. “You can supervise,” she told him. “God knows you were always good at that.”
Cole and his mother had both already arrived. On the lookout for Ronnie and her family, the two made their way over a few minutes after the foursome had arrived. Christopher was the first to spot them and excitedly made the announcement to his mother—just before he ran up to Cole and launched himself into his hero’s arms.
Cole carried Christopher as he crossed over to the rest of the McClouds. Ronnie couldn’t help seeing how happy her son looked in his father’s arms. How natural.
“I believe this is yours.” Cole grinned at Ronnie as he put the boy down on the ground again. He nodded at Wayne and Amos. “Nice to see you all could make it.”
“I’m not talking to you,” Wayne said, pretending to still be annoyed.
Cole nodded. “I can live with that.” Glancing toward Ronnie, he leaned over and whispered into her ear, “You realize that you look like the cat that swallowed the canary.”
She was willing to bet any amount of money that Cole had no clue as to why she felt so happy. Most likely he thought it was because her family was attending this social function all together. That might have contributed to part of it, but watching Cole with their son was what brought a glow to her heart.
“Haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” she said, playing along.
“Yeah, right.”
She could feel his breath along her neck and did her best not to react—or at least not allow him to see her reaction. Although, after the last couple of weeks, she had a pretty damn good feeling that he knew he sent shivers up and down her spine.
“Shh,” she shushed him. “Mr. Haines is about to speak.”
Suppressing a grin, Cole kept his peace. Gene Haines, all four of his sons standing behind him, held up his hand to still the buzz coming from the various conversations that were going on. When the noise level had died down sufficiently, Haines told his friends and neighbors just how lucky and proud he was to have such good people around him he could rely on.
He went on to say several other things, as well, but Cole really wasn’t paying attention. Standing beside Ronnie, her very essence filling his senses, he couldn’t help thinking how lonely it would be once Ronnie and her son left. Not for the first time he wondered what he could legitimately do to keep Ronnie in Redemption a little while longer. Battles were won one inch at a time.
Finished with his halting speech, embarrassed that he had gotten so emotional, Gene Haines clapped his massive hands together and loud
ly declared, “All right, let’s get to it!”
As everyone who’d come to help moved, almost en masse, toward where the new barn would be erected, Ronnie realized that Cole was still standing where he’d been when the rancher had started talking.
“Planning to take root?” she asked Cole, mildly amused.
Coming to, Cole realized she was talking to him. “What?”
Ronnie nodded toward his boots. “Your feet, they’re not moving. Are you planning to take root?” she asked.
Cole frowned. “Very funny.”
Confused, Christopher got in between his mother and his hero. He looked from one to the other. “No, it wasn’t,” he protested, confused.
“You’re right,” Cole agreed, slipping a protective hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It’s not. C’mon,” he urged the boy. “Let’s go build us a barn, Christopher.”
Christopher lit up like the proverbial firecracker on the Fourth of July. “You bet!” he declared with enthusiasm.
Walking behind them, watching Christopher and Cole together, Ronnie felt her heart warming again. At the same time, she wished with every fiber of her being that she could somehow go back five years, back to the day that her son had been born. She would have sent Cole a note, telling him that he had a son and that she wanted nothing from him, she just wanted him to know about the boy.
If she could only have done that, then she’d be able to enjoy scenarios like this without enduring the guilt, the pain that was an ever-present part of every waking moment.
This isn’t the time to get maudlin, she told herself. She was here to work, not to lament things that couldn’t be changed.
EVERYONE WHO COULD WIELD A hammer did. Those that couldn’t—such as Christopher and Cole’s mother, served as backup. They saw to it that the wood being used was easily accessible and that there was always plenty of water and lemonade to drink as well as food to eat for those who needed to take a break.
Much to his frustration, on the advice of the doctor in Helena, Gene Haines was forced to remain on the sidelines. Along with Wayne and Amos, he supervised the work. The rancher provided the blueprints for the barn and Amos coordinated the different groups of men and women working on the structure, insuring that no one got in any one else’s way.
Consequently, building progressed like a lyrical poem and at a pace that Ronnie wouldn’t have thought possible if she hadn’t been there herself to see it.
By the time they ran out of daylight, they had also run out of building materials—which was fine since Haines, with tears gathering in his eyes, drove in the symbolic last nail.
The new barn was finished.
“I don’t know what to say,” the rancher told his neighbors honestly, emotion filling his throat, choking off words.
“How about ‘drinks on me’?” someone called out. Laughter greeted the suggestion. All around them, lan terns that had been hung up by Haines’s wife, Katie, went on, illuminating the area.
Shaking off the emotional moment, Haines responded, “Absolutely!” Beckoning to his sons, they came forward, bringing out ice chests filled with ice and bottles of beer.
The barbecue began in earnest as laughter and music filled the air, the latter courtesy of several of Redemption’s citizens who took out the instruments they’d thought to bring with them.
Delighted, excited, Christopher talked up a storm, taking it all in and giving absolutely no indication that he was about to wind down anytime in the near future despite the fact that he had put in a long day.
On his second helping of spareribs, Cole marveled at the boy’s boundless energy. “Doesn’t he ever come up for air?”
“Not very often,” Ronnie answered. One helping of spareribs was enough for her. She cleaned off her fingers with the napkin Midge had handed her. “I’ve gotten used to it,” she confessed, “although I have to admit that being on the ranch seems to have increased his energy levels.”
He watched the boy talking to a couple of other boys close to Christopher’s own age. He wished he could tap into some of that energy, he mused. “If I hadn’t seen him fall asleep that one time, I would swear that boy runs on batteries.”
“He’s pure energy, all right,” she said fondly.
“Gets that from you, I take it,” Cole observed.
“I guess maybe he does,” she agreed. She was com pletely unprepared for what Cole said next. Or rather, what he asked next.
“What does he get from his father?”
For a split second, her mind went blank. Did he suspect? No, the look on Cole’s face was guileless. Ronnie thought for a minute, trying to be both truthful and vague at the same time. “His intelligence,” she finally said. “He got his intelligence from his father.”
The look on Cole’s face turned slightly skeptical. “You’re not exactly dumb, Ronnie.”
“I know.” She took the comment for the assessment that it was. “It’s a different kind of intelligence,” she explained. “Christopher has an innate savviness, a unique way of looking at things that I don’t have.”
“And he got that from his father?” Cole asked.
She had the impression that Cole was trying to fit the pieces of a puzzle together.
Change the subject, change the subject, she silently pleaded. She didn’t want Cole stumbling across the truth, not tonight. Not here. This wasn’t the setting she wanted when she finally told Cole the truth.
“Dance with me?” she asked.
Well, that had come out of the blue, Cole thought. Wiping his hands carefully, he dropped the napkin onto his paper plate. “Yes, ma’am,” he responded “obediently.”
With that, he led her to the area where all the other dancing couples had gathered.
Taking her into his arms, Cole began to dance.
“You still look like the cat that swallowed the canary.”
“Just enjoying the day—and the company,” she replied.
He said nothing, not wanting to mar the moment. This was the way it was supposed to have been, he couldn’t help thinking. This was the life he’d wanted her to share with him. Maybe—
Someone bumped into them. Stumbled into them, really, he realized as he looked at the party who was responsible. It wasn’t another couple, it was Cyndy. An inebriated Cyndy from the less than faint smell of alcohol about her.
Rather than apologize, Cyndy took an unsteady step back. Her eyes swept over Ronnie. “I heard you were back.” When she said it, it sounded more like an accusation than anything else.
Jealousy and a feeling of foreboding shot through Ronnie at the same time. This was the woman Cole had been engaged to. The one he had planned to marry.
But he didn’t, did he? she reminded herself. There was no reason to be jealous. At least, not on her part, she thought.
“Hello, Cyndy.” Ronnie did her best to sound friendly, even though she felt anything but. The truth was, she had never really liked the other woman, even when they had gone to school together. They were complete opposites. “How have you been?”
“Frustrated,” Cyndy retorted. “I thought for sure that once you ran out on Cole, I’d have a clear shot at him.” She shook her head, then stopped because it seemed to make her dizzy. “But I guess your hooks just went too deep.”
Cole took hold of Cyndy’s arm and firmly moved her over to the side, away from the makeshift dance floor. “Cyndy, I think maybe you should try switching to lemonade for a while.”
She drew herself up indignantly. “I will when I want to.” She glared at Ronnie. “Did you know we were engaged?” she asked Ronnie, raising her voice. “But he dumped me.” Anger and disgust echoed in each word she uttered. “Because he just couldn’t get over you.” She tossed her head. “There’s nothing so great about you,” the woman observed. Turning toward Cole, she underscored her point. “There isn’t.”
Aware that there was a scene in the making, Midge hurried over to the trio. With a forced smile on her lips, she told her son’s former fiancée, “I think y
ou’ve said enough, dear.”
The expression on Cyndy’s face was pure belligerence. She stood her ground, albeit unsteadily. “Doesn’t matter what I say—or don’t say. Doesn’t change anything.”
Cole lowered his voice. “Cyndy, you’re making a spectacle of yourself.”
“I’m making a spectacle?” Cyndy scoffed indignantly. “What about little miss fancy-pants here?” She jerked a thumb at Ronnie. “She comes waltzing back after six years, leading the man I love around by the nose. I’d call that a spectacle.” She turned toward Midge. “How about you?” she asked.
Exhibiting a great deal of patience, Midge tried to take hold of Cyndy’s arm to lead her off before they began to attract too much attention.
With an angry cry, Cyndy attempted to yank her arm back.
Just then, Christopher came barreling over to them, his eyes seeing only his hero. “Can you get me a soda pop, Sheriff?” he asked. “I’m really thirsty!” He looked up at Cole hopefully.
Cyndy blinked, trying to focus. She stared at the boy. “He yours?” she asked, turning toward Ronnie.
Ronnie could feel the muscles in her stomach tightening. She had a really bad feeling about this. “Yes.”
Her hand on Christopher’s shoulder—more to hold herself steady than to keep him in place—Cyndy looked directly into his small face. Then she looked at Cole, and finally, at the woman she blamed for her broken engagement. It was apparent that she was trying to think and having less than an easy time of it.
“How old is the kid?” she asked.
Never having had a shy moment in his life, Christopher answered the question for his mother. “I’m five.”
“Five,” Cyndy repeated as if digesting the single word carefully. And then she looked at Ronnie, a smirk on her lips. “He doesn’t look all that much like Cole, does he?”
Alarmed, afraid of what else the other woman would blurt out, Midge took hold of Cyndy’s arm and forcibly moved her away from the others. “You’re making a fool of yourself, Cyndy,” she warned.
Cyndy tossed her head, then turned a light shade of green as a wave of nausea found her. “I’m not the fool in the group,” she declared. Pulling free of Midge, Cyndy took an unsteady step back. She raised her hands, as if to indicate that she could leave on her own power and didn’t need anyone to usher her away.
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