Then, the summer after they graduated, she went off to a university thousands of miles away despite all their plans together, without a word of explanation. He didn’t know what had changed or why she decided not to talk to him again. He just knew it still hurt.
And here was his chance to talk to her, hear her side of it, and finally put it all behind him.
As he and Tom left the barn and walked through the twilight toward his childhood home, he felt the itch to get in his truck and drive straight over to see Amy. He would be there in less than five minutes.
The urge almost made him veer toward the side of the house, but he managed to keep himself in check. If she had just gotten home, she was spending time with her family. Not the best time to drive up and demand an explanation.
No, he could wait until tomorrow, Jack told himself.
“Mom loves that you’re going to be home for a good long while, you know,” Tom said as they neared the house.
Jack could see his mother moving around the kitchen, and he felt a pang of guilt over his desire to drive over to see Amy without a word of explanation to anyone. His mother had likely been cooking up a storm while they were out with the horses.
Jack glanced at his brother, whose mouth was set in a thin line. He knew that Tom was worried about their mother and the ranch she’d lived on for so many years, and that Jack being home wasn’t the godsend their mother thought it was, if only because it brought a halt to any extra cash Jack brought in from riding in rodeos.
Tom hadn’t been kidding when he’d said they could use any extra business their little riding school could get. As the town had shrunk over the years, so had the number of students they could count on coming to learn to ride. After their father died and Tom moved back to pick up the slack, it had only gotten worse; and Jack knew Tom felt that it was his failings as an instructor that was causing the trouble, despite anything Jack said to the contrary.
Jack hated that he had no idea what he could do about all that. Up until last week he’d tried to help by sending home what he could from his earnings on the circuit, but even that never seemed to be enough. He was sure he could become a real champion if the cards fell right, and then they could stop worrying so much, but for that he needed a great partner and a whole lot of luck—two things that hadn’t seemed to come his way lately.
His old partner was decent, but since he broke his leg and decided to call it quits, Jack wasn’t sure what he’d do. No partner, no rodeos. No rodeos, no money.
He loved being home on the ranch he hoped to run one day, but now he needed to find someone to rope with. It was the type of decision that could make or break his career. All that on his plate, and now there was Tom to help, too. It was a tall order.
And now he had Amy McNeal to think about. His stay in Spring Valley was already getting much more complicated than he’d expected just a few days ago.
* * *
AS THE SUN dipped behind the mountains ringing Spring Valley, Amy lowered herself carefully from Brock’s truck until her feet were planted securely on the gravel driveway of their parents’ old sprawling ranch house. The last time she’d come home, she’d fallen and twisted her ankle badly doing that very thing, and she wasn’t about to go through that again. If Cassie, who was a doctor and lived next door, hadn’t taken care of her, she might have ended up missing her departure flight last time.
Amy turned her attention from her feet to the group of people standing on the front porch. Cassie was already there, with her twin sons, and Ma and Pop, all happy to see her. Amy felt a twinge of homesickness, which was silly. She was home, after all.
Cassie, Brock’s fiancée, came down and gave Amy a tight hug. Even though they had only met up a couple times during Amy’s last stay, and that was when she was still just the neighbor, Cassie had been kind and friendly from the start.
“How’s your ankle?” she asked the moment she and Amy broke apart.
“Good, most of the time. Just gives me the odd twinge if I step down wrong,” Amy said, glad to have a doctor in the family.
Cassie nodded sympathetically, but it was clear there wasn’t much to be done about it. Just another sign that she wasn’t in her teens anymore.
The cool evening breeze ruffled Amy’s hair, and she wished she had a jacket. Living out of a backpack for years, she’d learned to just buy occasional items as she needed them, and she certainly hadn’t needed anything heavier than a light sweater in nearly a year, following the summer and staying on tropical islands or in deserts.
She might need to buy a coat. But for the time being, she would just borrow something from her mother, however grandmotherly her Ma’s wardrobe was—and it had been since she’d adopted Amy, if the pictures were any indication.
Ma herself rushed forward and pulled Amy into a tight hug, and Amy felt her heart swell with the feeling of home. As much as she avoided Spring Valley, she missed it, and the people. “Hi, Ma,” she said, hoping the older woman wasn’t going to cry.
Ma was a tough lady, but she never could understand why Amy was gone so much, and it hurt Amy to see the toll it took on her. To avoid it, Amy rummaged in her bag and pulled out two packages, handing one to Ma and the other to Cassie. “They’re some different spices and a grinder,” she explained.
Cassie thanked her, but Ma looked skeptical. “Smell them and give them a shot,” Amy said, sure her adopted mother would manage to make something magical and somehow still completely Southern with them.
Then Amy turned to her soon-to-be nephews. “I brought y’all spices, too!” she told them.
“You did?” Carter asked, not sounding too enthused at the idea.
“No. I want to be your favorite aunt, and I have some catching up to do, so I brought you fez hats and drums,” she said, pulling out the items and handing them to the boys.
Zach immediately began giggling to see the funny little hat on his brother, and they both started hitting the drums enthusiastically. Brock appeared at Amy’s elbow. “Drums? Really?” he asked his little sister.
Amy shrugged. “There were some really cool knives I considered getting them. This seemed like the better choice.”
Brock and Cassie winced at the noise. “I’m not so sure about that,” Brock commented.
Cassie whispered quickly to Zach and Carter, and they both ran over to Amy, giving her a big hug. “Thanks, Aunt Amy,” they said in unison.
Amy nodded to them, fighting tears. She didn’t want to admit how much it twisted her heart to be around these two sweet boys. They reminded her too much of truths she didn’t like to think about.
“Time to get inside,” Ma said, ushering everyone through the door. “Dinner’s ready and will start getting cold any minute.”
Amy, thankful for the interruption, followed the rest of them inside after giving Pop a quick hug. She only paused at the door for a second, looking in the direction of Stuart Ranch, and wondering what her life would be like if things had been just a little different.
Suddenly, she wished she was on a plane to Panama. Or Indonesia. Heck, Idaho would work. Anywhere, so long as it was a couple thousand miles from the painful memories that were threatening to come back to the surface now that she was here.
But those painful memories were the reason she was here, so she bit back the desire to flee and walked inside her childhood home, closing the door behind her.
Amy soon found herself sitting down at her parents’ table, already piled high with Ma’s famous cooking. “So, update me on what’s going on with everyone,” she said, hoping talk would keep her mind from wandering back toward Stuart Ranch.
“Pop’s working himself too hard fixing the barn when he could just let me do it. Or hire someone,” Brock began as they all began filling their plates.
Pop cut into Brock’s scolding. “I’m not so old I can’t lift a hammer, Brock,” he said around his mustache. “
And the horses will appreciate it, which is good for the riding school.”
Pop had always been such a strong, consistent force in her life that it was hard for Amy to imagine him ever slowing down, but she could see that Brock was concerned. Still, he didn’t seem willing to push the topic any further than he already had.
“Speaking of riding,” Brock said, pointing to the twins, “these two have been doing a great job learning to ride and care for horses.”
Zach and Carter beamed. “Mr. Stuart says we’re naturals,” Carter declared.
Amy about choked on her water. “Stuart?” she asked in between coughs.
Brock nodded, looking proud. “Tom Stuart’s taken over the school since his father passed a year ago. The boys go there twice a week.”
Amy’s heart started again. She hadn’t known the boys were going to the Stuarts’, and hearing the name out of the blue like that had done more to her than she liked to admit. She suddenly hoped to heaven that Jack was still out on the circuit. Maybe he would even be gone the entire month she was there, and she could board her plane to Thailand after the wedding and just forget about her resolution to speak to him, which seemed awfully daunting now that she was home.
Brock gestured to her with his fork. “Jack’s back in town right now, too. Weren’t you two an item for a while in high school?”
Amy felt her heart jolt again at the sound of his name. Of course, Brock had been on the rodeo circuit when they’d started dating. He didn’t know how serious their relationship had been, didn’t know that his name cut through her like a knife.
But Ma and Pop knew some of it. Pop stood, clearing his throat, and all the attention turned to him. “I just want to thank y’all for being here. It does an old man good to see so many people he loves around the table together.”
There was a round of “hear, hear!” and a lifting of glasses, and then Pop sat back down. “Now, stop with the chatter and get to eatin’. I don’t plan on having leftovers,” Ma added.
With that, they tucked in, eating heartily. Amy didn’t look at Brock, in case he decided to start up the conversation again. She did, however, risk a glance at Pop, who was looking at her with concern. Amy gave him a little nod of thanks, then turned her eyes back to the plate in front of her.
Jack Stuart was in town right this minute, just a few miles away. When she’d bought her ticket to come home, she had hoped he would be, but now...
The mix of emotions he evoked was too much to analyze. All she knew for sure was that she couldn’t run and hide any longer, and she needed to be prepared to talk to him. Tell him the truth.
* * *
AMY AWOKE LONG before sunrise, her internal clock still not quite on Texas time. Once awake, her mind immediately turned to Jack, her stomach twisting. She lay in bed wondering if he already knew she was home, if he would decide to confront her about her disappearance after graduation, or if she would be the one to seek him out. And if she could force herself to actually do so.
She knew that her eighteen-year-old self hadn’t handled things particularly well, and she still felt guilt rise in her when she thought of the messages he had left, asking her to please call him and tell him why she hadn’t talked to him, why she had just left without saying goodbye.
She had listened to each one over and over again, torturing herself just so she could hear his voice, but she hadn’t had the nerve to call him back, to talk to him, to explain why she’d gone away.
She was stronger now, though. She had made the decision to come clean to him, and she could handle it, however difficult it might seem. After all, their relationship had been a long time ago. About a decade now. Shouldn’t that be long enough to wipe away everything that had happened between them?
She knew, though, that it hadn’t been long enough for her.
Amy sighed and pulled herself out of bed, determined to get her mind off her high school sweetheart.
For an hour, she struggled to write an article about her experiences in the Sahara Desert, but the camels and tribesmen and women felt impossible to capture in words when her brain was so full of other things so much closer to home.
Finally, frustrated, she turned from her laptop and paced the length of her small childhood bedroom, trying to get her mind to settle down and focus. She felt too closed in to think properly—that was the problem, she told herself.
Amy could see that the sky had lightened enough for the world outside her window to be more than just a swath of darkness, and she determined that it would be best to get out of this tiny room. Her eyes landed on her old tan Stetson, hanging on one of her bedposts, just where she would always put it after a ride, and she smiled.
In a couple of minutes, her hair was falling down her back underneath a battered cowboy hat, and she had thrown on her jeans. With her old cowboy boots in one hand, she sneaked quietly down the stairs in just her socks, hoping not to wake anyone.
Once she was standing outside and the back door was shut behind her, she slid her feet into her boots and walked quickly toward the barn, feeling like a younger version of herself. When she reached it, it took no time at all to slip inside and find her old tack in its place against the wall. Pa had taken good care of it while she was gone.
The smell of hay and the nickering of horses surrounded her and was a soothing presence, and for a moment she stood there, feeling the supple leather of her saddle and remembering old times when she wanted nothing more than to live on a ranch and ride in rodeos. And marry Jack.
She turned from the saddle, wishing she could turn from her thoughts as easily, and walked along the row of horses. Since the family ran a riding school, there was no shortage of animals to ride, but she still looked over them all, telling herself she wasn’t looking for Bandit.
Bandit had been her horse back in the day, a beautiful black stallion with white freckled markings on his nose, and when he died during her first year of college, she’d cried long and hard. It still sent a pang through her heart to think of him, and she knew she would always wonder if he’d felt abandoned when she moved so far away.
Bandit wasn’t there, of course, and she looked over the horses once again, this time seeing them as they were, and not what they weren’t. A feisty-looking mare, dark brown, butted Amy with her nose, stopping her in her tracks. When Amy looked the animal in the eyes, she knew they’d get along just fine.
Amy saddled up the mare, whose name she didn’t know, and walked her out of the barn. In the early-morning light, the mare’s coat shone a deep bronze, and Amy patted her. “What do you say we go for a ride, girl?” she asked.
The horse snorted and pulled her head up quickly, almost as if she was nodding. Amy grinned at her and mounted the animal, settling into the saddle as if she’d only been riding the day before. With that, the two were off around the property, getting to know each other.
For a few minutes, Amy was content to ride at a walking pace as she accustomed herself to the mare’s gait. Once she was comfortable, though, she started to feel antsy. The lingering anxiety was still there, nagging at the back of her mind, and she decided to do what she’d always done to clear her mind in the old days: outrun her thoughts. Amy turned the mare toward the fence line, and in a few seconds they were through a small gate and onto a trail that wound its way through the trees that bordered her parents’ property.
Soon Amy and the mare were moving at a quick trot along the footpath. Amy leaned close to the mare’s neck as she reveled in the familiar feeling. She must have traveled along this trail hundreds of times when she was in high school, exercising the horses and leading children from her father’s riding school along the path.
When they broke through the last of the trees into an open field, Amy urged the horse to go faster, and they streaked through the short grass at a run, hurtling along until they reached a dirt road. The feel of her hair streaming behind her as the cool wind slapped he
r face gave Amy more joy than she remembered feeling in a long time. When they slowed, she took in a deep breath and shivered with the cold.
By that time the sky was full of light, and Amy knew it was probably time to get back. She turned the mare to walk along the road, back toward the ranch.
Amy was still breathing hard, her heart pounding, when she saw something that made it beat even harder. A few hundred yards up the road was a truck, a cowboy leaning against it and watching her.
She knew the truck and the cowboy so well, she recognized them immediately, even though it had been a decade since she’d seen either one. How many times had she looked up from a ride to see that cowboy leaning just that way on that beat-up old truck?
Without any guidance, the horse continued walking toward the ranch, bringing Amy closer and closer to Jack Stuart. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from him, and he kept his eyes locked on hers.
This was it. She’d promised herself she would do this, and now the time had come. Amy took a long, calming breath.
After what felt like an eternity, the mare was only a few feet from the truck. Amy pulled on the reins and the horse stopped and waited to be told what to do next. Amy wished someone would tell her what she should do, too, but she knew she’d need to figure it out for herself.
Jack moved away from the truck and came closer, stroking the horse’s muzzle, still keeping his eyes on Amy. For a long moment, they stared at one another, only a foot of space between them.
If her heart hadn’t been beating so hard, it might have stopped at the sight of Jack so close. He looked a little older, but he was still handsome as ever, his wavy dark hair playing around his ears in the breeze. And his eyes, that same light blue that haunted her dreams, bored into her.
She couldn’t think of what to say. Hi seemed silly, with all the unanswered questions and years standing between them.
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