Cassidy had been gone four days, during which she’d moved Vicki and herself into the house on Gold Rush Street, cleaned out her closet and decided which of Vicki’s possessions should stay and which should go. Frank Bidwell had insisted on sending a couple of men to help her with the boxes, while Billy had taken Vicki on a long ride in order to spare her the sight of her things being carted away. Today, after she picked up Vicki from school, she planned to return to the ranch in order to give the house a thorough cleaning while Vicki spent time with the pretty little filly she’d named Domino. Domi, for short.
Although Karen, like her mother, was a woman who prided herself on taking care of herself, she was beginning to feel overwhelmed by all the threads that needed to be unraveled when a marriage broke up—things like changing the title on her SUV and putting the insurance in her name, like removing her name from the checking and savings accounts she shared with Cassidy and opening one of her own where she would deposit her checks from the hospital. And of course, deleting her name from the title to the ranch.
“You should have your imprinted checks and new debit card in a week or so,” the clerk went on, her gaze going automatically to the small calendar on her desk. “Processing your new credit card will take slightly longer.”
“Thanks, Glenda. And thanks for not asking any questions.”
Glenda Newman was a large, sturdy woman a few years older than Karen, with an air of quiet competence and a careworn face that still retained hints of a once spectacular beauty. It was common knowledge inside the bank that she’d been both an abused daughter and wife for far too many years before she’d found the courage to fight back. Karen admired her strength and grit, and had told her so more than once.
“If you ever need a friendly ear, mine’s available,” Glenda said as Karen rose from her chair.
“Thanks. I just might take you up on that.”
After tucking the new checks into her purse, she skirted Glenda’s desk and headed for the area at the rear of the lobby where her mother had her desk. On the way, she spotted Peggy Stockwell just turning away from a teller’s window. A smile spread over her pretty face as she caught sight of Karen and changed direction.
“Hello, Dr. Sloane,” she said with a shy smile. Her glossy red curls were piled atop her head, and her green eyes sparkled with a vibrancy Karen envied. Her own eyes were shadowed from too little sleep and too much stress.
“Hi yourself, and it’s Karen, please.”
“Takin’ the day off from the hospital?”
Karen smiled. “Actually, I traded shifts with one of the other residents so I could help carpool Vicki’s class on a field trip to the Herald this afternoon.”
“How was it—besides chaotic?”
Karen laughed. “We didn’t go because the Herald’s network crashed just before we were getting ready to leave the school. No computer, no presses running, and most important, nothing to show twenty-seven inquisitive third-graders besides blank monitors. No fool she, their teacher decided to reschedule.”
“Aha, so you’re playing hooky.”
“I guess I am at that—although it feels more like I’m running all over town taking care of errands.”
“Join the club,” Peggy said with a rueful downward glance at the shopping bag gripped in one hand. “I’ve been to five different places so far, with two more to go before I can head on home.”
“Is Travis watching the twins?”
Peggy nodded. “I figure that’s a surefire way to make a man appreciate his wife.”
Karen hoped her answering grin revealed nothing of the leaden unhappiness that was her constant companion these days. “What are they now? Ten months?”
“Almost—and getting bigger every day.” Karen saw the blaze of happiness in the younger woman’s eyes and wanted to warn her to cherish every moment of that joy. “Which is one reason why Travis and I have decided to rent a house for the time we’ll be in town,” Peggy continued brightly. “That trailer is getting a bit small for all four of us.”
“Have you found a place yet?”
Peggy nodded. “It’s nothing special, just a tract home on the edge of town, but it has a small shed where the landlord says Travis can stable his horses and a fenced yard for the twins when they’re old enough to toddle around.”
She paused, a smile blossoming as though she were picturing the scene in her mind. “Right now we’re sitting on lawn chairs and eating off of an old card table. Like Travis keeps saying, we have to wait for him to win more prize money before we can afford real furniture.”
Karen nodded. “I remember those days all too well. When we were first married, Cassidy and I had to choose between a new roof for the barn or living room furniture.”
“Let me guess. You got the roof.”
“Yes. We got the roof.” The furniture had come later, after Cassidy had shipped a hundred head to market. They’d celebrated with pizza and soda, then made love on their brand new sofa.
Over the years, they’d made love on those same cushions more times than she could count. And planned for the future between kisses. Vicki had napped on it and thrown up on it and smeared Easter candy into the nubby fabric. As a piece of furniture, it was probably worth a dollar and a half at a swap meet, if that.
“Sorry,” Karen told Peggy, realizing her mind had been wandering. “You were telling me about your new house?”
“Actually, I was trying to work up the nerve to ask you and Cassidy to the housewarming we have planned for three weeks from Saturday.”
There it was, that first sharp reminder, Karen thought with sad resignation. Sooner or later everyone had to know about the failure of the Sloanes’ marriage. She knew enough divorced couples to know that the invitations invariably stopped for one or the other. It would be the same for them.
If not right away, soon enough. She could spread the word slowly or quickly—either way it was going to hurt.
“Sounds lovely,” she said with what she hoped was a warm smile. “But Cassidy and I are getting a divorce.”
Peggy’s shocked expression said volumes. “I’m so sorry. If there’s anything I can do—”
“No, but thank you.”
“Travis had a feeling…I mean, well, a couple of times he mentioned that Cassidy didn’t seem like himself—” she broke off, her face turning a fiery red. “Shut up, Peggy,” she muttered.
Karen laid a hand on Peggy’s arm. “It’s okay. I’m getting used to the idea.” It wasn’t really a lie, she told herself. After all, she’d managed four hours of sleep last night, hadn’t she?
“Please think about coming to the party, anyway. I’ll tell Travis not to say anything to Cassidy, just in case.”
“I appreciate the thought, but I’m spending as much of my free time with Vicki as I can right now.”
“Of course, I understand.”
“Please don’t look so stricken, Peggy. It’s okay, really. And tell Travis not to feel the least bit hesitant about inviting Cassidy to your party.”
Peggy nodded. “I feel so terrible for you, Karen. I know what you’re going through. After…after Clyde abandoned me, I felt like so much used Kleenex until I met Travis and realized I had a beautiful new life just waiting for me.”
“I’m happy for you, Peggy. You deserve all the happiness I know Travis and those babies will give you.”
Peggy’s smile came easier now, Karen noted with satisfaction. “I hope so. But sometimes I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming, you know?”
“Yes, I know,” Karen said softly.
“Well, I should be going.” Peggy hesitated, then reached out to give Karen a fierce hug. Shopping bags crinkled between them, and something hard clanked against Karen’s shin, but she didn’t care. It felt good to know that someone understood.
As though embarrassed, Peggy drew back, muttered a hurried goodbye and headed for the door. Karen glanced toward the far end of the lobby and saw that her mother was still with a customer. Just as w
ell, she thought, turning on her heel and heading for the rest room in the back.
Two minutes later she was safely locked in a stall, tears running down her face, mourning the loss of a stupid, ugly sofa.
* * *
Cassidy was tired and hungry and smelled like cow dung and sweat. Forty-seven hours bedded down next to a mean son-of-a-bitch bull in a crowded cattle car had honed his already foul mood to a dangerous edge. The fact that he was still suffering the lingering aftereffects of a head-shattering, gut-busting hangover didn’t help.
Grand Springs’s best cattle hauler, Mac McWhorter, had wrinkled that big eagle’s beak of his when he’d caught a whiff of his human passenger, but wisely kept his own counsel, for which Cassidy was grateful.
“Guess you put down a bundle on that ugly critter back yonder.”
Cassidy roused himself long enough to grunt. Mac was a hell of a teamster, but he had a tendency to gossip about his customers more than was wise.
Undaunted, McWhorter leaned forward to spit tobacco juice into the coffee can he kept wedged between two coils of rope on the floor. “How many head you runnin’ these days, anyway?”
“Enough.” Cassidy closed his eyes and tried not to speculate about the next few minutes. Either she’d be there or she wouldn’t.
“Place looks damn good, Cass. Better’n it ever looked under the JB brand.”
Cassidy felt a rush of pride. Bathed in the glow of sunset, the land had a serenity about it that never failed to soothe him. “Got a long way to go, though.” He slitted his eyes and watched the familiar contours of his land drift past. The aspens had budded during his absence, and the snow level on the distant peaks had climbed a good thousand feet by his reckoning. Wouldn’t be long before spring hit full force. Before then, he had a lot to do.
Before he’d left, he’d issued orders to have the fences repaired and the tack mended by his return. Spring was always hectic on a ranch, especially this year. And the trip to Stockton had put him behind. Still, a man would be a fool to pay big bucks for breeding stock he hadn’t seen with his own eyes.
“Don’t mind tellin’ you, Cass. I ain’t never seen an animal as mean as that there Brahma back there. Woulda kicked that dumb railroad greenhorn clear into the promised land if you hadn’t manhandled the kid out of the way.” McWhorter rubbed a rough hand against his stubbled jaw before leaning forward to spit again. “If it was me, I’d have that bastard dehorned first thing I did.”
Cassidy let that pass. He was too busy wondering if the house would be as cold and empty as his gut.
“I gotta figure that you have yourself a plan, seein’ as though most of the other ranchers have gone to artificial insemination.”
His reasons for buying the hide-and-guts bastard with an attitude were entirely practical. Once word got around about the primo quality of beef he was raising on the Lazy S, he was bound to make a fortune in stud fees.
“Mind the ruts, Mac. I haven’t had time to grade the lane yet this year.”
It was McWhorter’s turn to grunt. “Where do you want me to unload?”
“The corral behind the equipment shed.”
“Gotcha.”
As the buildings came into sight, Cassidy felt his gut tighten. Work would help. Work always helped.
The lights were on in the house, and Karen’s Rover was parked in its usual spot. He told himself not to hope, but he did, anyway, hoped desperately, with all the force of a man seeing a glimmer of light in a dark, cold prison.
* * *
“Daddy’s home!” Vicki had passed through the kitchen and was running pell-mell toward Mac McWhorter’s huge cattle transport truck before the sound of her voice faded.
Karen gripped the edge of the sink and waited for her suddenly galloping heart to slow the frantic pace. Cassidy wasn’t due home until tomorrow at the earliest. But there he was, climbing down from the truck’s tall cab, his jacket rumpled and his hat pulled low. He moved warily, as though the sinewy muscles of those long legs had gotten stiff from inactivity, and he carried his shoulders differently, like a man struggling under a weight that was almost more than he could bear.
He turned at the sound of his daughter’s voice and held out his arms. She flung herself against him with a trust Karen hoped never faded.
Telling herself she had to get this first awkward meeting behind her, she threw down the rag she’d been using to clean the counters, wiped her hands on her jeans and walked outside.
Though he had Vicki a good two feet off the ground, wrapped in a bear hug while she chattered away, his gaze locked with Karen’s the moment she stepped from the back door. It was a good fifteen yards to the truck, yet she felt herself react to the sheer power of his presence.
In spite of that—or maybe as a result of it—she dug deep for a friendly smile. He didn’t return her smile, nor, she realized sadly, had she expected him to. Instead, he gave Vicki a quick kiss on her nose, then set her on booted feet that were already pointed toward the back of the trailer where McWhorter was standing, fishing in his pocket for the key to the padlocked door.
“I see you were successful,” she called when they were only a few yards apart.
“Enough so’s I’ll have to eat beans and rice for the next year.”
Already he’d made the transition from married man to bachelor. Karen felt a chill and resisted the urge to hug herself warm again. “Good thing Dora has been busy filling the freezer with casseroles.”
“Sounds good, but it’ll be a while before I can eat it. Gotta get this valuable capital asset settled in his new home first.”
“What’s his name, Daddy?” Vicki asked, literally hopping up and down with impatience as McWhorter took his own sweet time removing the padlock.
“Man who bred him called him ‘that mean son of a…gun.’”
Vicki’s bangs moved as she wrinkled her forehead. “That’s not very nice.”
“But accurate, little lady,” McWhorter contributed with a grin that showed off tobacco-stained teeth. “That old boy darn near kicked in the side of my truck afore me and your daddy got him chained down real tight.”
“Daddy! That’s awful.”
Karen saw Cassidy flinch under his daughter’s rebuke and stepped forward, between the two. “Honey, Daddy and Mr. McWhorter weren’t trying to hurt him. They were just trying to keep him from hurting himself.”
Cassidy strode to McWhorter’s side. “Wait until I get the gate open, then back up to the opening.”
McWhorter nodded. “You best get the twelve-gauge out from behind the seat and have it ready.” He pocketed the padlock but left the door closed while he returned to the cab and climbed in.
Karen felt a shiver of fear tap-dance down her spine. Though she loved animals, she wasn’t crazy about meeting one the size of a freight train head-on. Nor was she about to let Vicki anywhere near that bull once he was unchained.
As though reading her thoughts, Cassidy pinned her with a look. “Go inside, both of you.”
“Works for me,” she muttered, reaching for Vicki’s hand.
“I wanna watch,” Vicki declared, pulling away.
“Now, Vicki—” The reasoned argument Karen was about to offer was cut short when Cassidy hefted Vicki against his side like a sack of wheat and strode off toward the porch, with Karen hurrying along behind.
“Inside,” he ordered again as he set the sputtering little girl down next to the door.
“I can watch from here,” Vicki countered, setting her jaw in a perfect imitation of her father.
Cassidy cast an impatient glance toward the truck, now idling noisily and spewing out blue smoke in a noxious cloud. Two of the hands were already mounted and hovering next to the gate. They were also armed, Karen noted with alarm.
“Vick, pay attention, because this is important,” Cassidy ordered, his voice only marginally softer. “That’s more than a half ton of mad bull in that truck, not some cuddly little calf bawling for his mama.”
“But—”
“An animal like that is just purely cantankerous.”
Like most males, Karen longed to interject, but didn’t, because she didn’t want Vicki to think she wasn’t taking Cassidy’s warning seriously.
“You won’t let him hurt me,” Vicki declared firmly, her trust in her father shining from the eyes nearly identical in color and shape to his.
“Accidents happen on a ranch, Vick.”
Karen bent down to bring herself eye to eye with her daughter. As she did, her thigh brushed Cassidy’s arm, and he shifted away, as though burned. She noted the subtle rebuff with regret.
“Remember I told you how Daddy and I met,” she said quietly.
Vicki nodded. “Daddy got his ribs busted by a horse.”
“And Daddy’s always very careful, right?”
“Yeah, but—”
“No buts, Victoria. Daddy and I don’t like to forbid you to explore new things, but neither can we allow you to get hurt.”
Resignation drifted across Vicki’s freckled face, but her jaw remained stubborn, giving her mother a glimpse of the strong, self-assured woman she would become. It would take an equally strong man to win her heart.
“Later, when he’s not so mad, can I take a look at him?” Vicki’s question was directed at her father, who scowled.
“Okay, but only when I’m right there with you.” He reached out a hand to tug on the end of one pigtail. “And don’t think you can make a pet of him, either, by sneaking sugar to him when nobody’s looking.”
“No, Daddy,” Vicki promised solemnly.
He grunted something unintelligible as he got to his feet. Pulling his worn leather gloves from his back pocket with one hand, he opened the storm door with the other. “Inside, both of you.”
“Remember those broken ribs,” Karen couldn’t help saying before she followed Vicki inside.
Something very like hunger flashed in his eyes for a split second, and then…a leashed anger. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Vicki wanted to spend time with Domino, and I had a few loose ends to tie up.”
The Parent Plan Page 15
