by Amanda Renee
“No.” Carina sighed dramatically. “I guess not.”
“You’re not going to let me sleep, are you?” Lucy was almost afraid to get out of bed. Her moody daughter had almost returned to her normal bubbly self. There had been a few times during dinner when she’d caught Carina trying to figure out the exchanges between her and Lane. It had been natural curiosity more than anything, but Lucy had been aware of it.
“I’m nervous.”
Lucy pulled her daughter closer. “You’re a very accomplished rider. Lane’s not going to ask you to do anything you’re not ready to do. But you need to listen to everything he says.”
“Do you think I’ll ever be as good as them?”
“Who—the barrel racers?” Lucy sat up against the headboard. “You of all people know how much practice and dedication goes into an equestrian sport. You’re not going to get on that horse today and ride like them. I’m sure they put in just as much time barrel-racing as you have in dressage.”
“It looks a lot easier.” Carina fiddled with a button on her shirt. “They don’t have all the rules.”
“They still have rules.” Lucy brushed Carina’s hair out of her eyes with her fingers. “What’s the real reason you want to barrel race? Did somebody say something to you in school?”
Carina pulled away, slid off the other side of the bed and headed for the door. And up went the wall. It didn’t take much to trigger it. Lucy would mention it to Lane and Ella later since her daughter seemed to open up to them much easier. Lucy’s biggest concern was Carina’s almost immediate attachment to Lane. She feared she was using him to fill the void left by Antonio. She’d rather Carina lean on Nicolino instead. It was safer, for both of their hearts.
Lucy double-checked the clock. She couldn’t believe she was up this early without a valid reason. She stepped into her slippers and padded through the house to the kitchen. Carina sat cross-legged on the couch watching cartoons. Well, that was an improvement over a locked bedroom door. Progress.
She rinsed out the carafe and refilled the coffeepot. Back home in Italy, she’d had a staff to do it for her. The surprising part was she didn’t miss it. She liked doing things for herself and Carina. Some days were harder than others, but everything they did together meant more. That is, when she had the time. She’d worked late every day except last night. Ella had been generously picking Carina up from the stables, feeding her dinner and helping her with homework, saying she was used to Nicolino coming home after the kids were already in bed. Those hours might have been fine for her cousin, but they weren’t for her. She’d expected to be home early enough to have dinner with her child and go over her schoolwork together. It wasn’t the only reason she felt guilty.
Her divorce from Antonio had been amicable. They’d both wanted to move on with their lives and find the people they were meant to be with. But for some reason, she felt guilty for enjoying herself with Lane. Because you haven’t told him the truth.
“I can’t. I just can’t.”
“Who are you talking to?” Carina asked from the living room.
Lucy squared her shoulders. “How about waffles for breakfast? I know the best place in town.”
* * *
LANE GRABBED HIS keys and headed out the door. He’d been up and dressed for the past two hours. Quarter to six and he hadn’t slept more than ten minutes at a time all night. He’d flirted with Lucy at dinner. He shouldn’t have, but he had. And once he’d started, he hadn’t known how to stop. Of course, it had all been innocent since Carina had been with them, but damned if it hadn’t felt good. He’d never dated anyone with a kid—not that he and Lucy were dating or would date, although the thought had crossed his mind repeatedly once he’d arrived back at the bunkhouse.
That nervous flutter deep in the belly that women talked about...yeah, he had that. His mom affectionately referred to it as the lovebug and he’d been infected only once before. He started his truck, not wanting to keep his breakfast date waiting. She was the one person in his life who knew what he’d gone through when Lucy walked out of his life the first time. He needed her advice before he risked it happening a second time.
Ten minutes later, he braked in front of his mom’s apartment. She was a chronic insomniac, so he’d known she’d be awake when he texted her at four in the morning. Barbara Morgan stepped onto the sidewalk just as he opened the passenger door for her.
“This is a pleasant surprise.” She reached up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I don’t see enough of you,” she said as she climbed into the truck.
Lane closed the door and chuckled. It never took long for a mom guilt trip. “I can’t remember why we stopped going to breakfast Saturday mornings.” Lane slid in beside her. “It’s been what, a year? We need to start doing this on a regular basis again.”
“You won’t get any arguments from me.” They drove in silence for a few minutes before Lane felt his mother’s stare.
Slowly, he turned toward her. “What?”
She shrugged. “Oh, nothing. I’m just waiting for you to tell me Lucy Travisonno is back in town.”
“So you’ve heard.” Lane gripped the steering wheel.
“I heard over two weeks ago. I also heard she has a kid. Is that what this breakfast is about? Are you going to tell me I’m a grandma?”
Lane braked in the middle of the street. “Mom!” He looked at her square in the face. “If Carina was my daughter, believe me, you would’ve been the second person to find out about it. She’s not. But I am giving her riding lessons today and I kind of sort of had a dinner date with Lucy last night.”
“Kind of sort of?” She swatted him. “Pull over or drive, but get out of the middle of the road. Either you went on a date with Lucy or you didn’t.”
Lane shifted into first gear. “Lucy and Carina went to dinner and I was there at the same time.” He turned onto Main Street. “Carina asked me to join them and I did. How would you define it?”
When his mother didn’t respond, he glanced over toward her. “I guess you kind of sort of had a dinner date with Lucy,” she mumbled.
“Okay. Now that that’s settled.” They parked in front of The Magpie moments later. The overhead bell jingled as they walked through the door.
“As I live and breathe.” Maggie Dalton, the luncheonette’s owner, greeted them with a warm hug. “I don’t believe my eyes. First Lucy Travisonno and now Barbara Morgan. It feels like Old Home Week around here.”
“Lucy’s here?” Lane scanned the handful of tables and booths in the small retro restaurant. He spotted her when Carina attempted to jump out of their booth, only to be thwarted by Lucy.
“Would y’all like to sit together?” Maggie asked.
“I don’t want to intrude,” Lane said.
“Nonsense.” His mother quickly made her way to their booth. Lane braced himself for a potential onslaught. There was no telling what she might say to Lucy. “Aren’t you a breath of fresh air?” Barbara leaned over and gave her a hug.
“Mrs. Morgan.” Lucy smiled. “It’s good to see you.”
“How many times have I told you to call me Barbara? And this must be Carina.” His mother practically hip-checked the kid to get her to scoot over. “You’re as pretty as your mother.” Barbara looked over her shoulder at Lane. “Don’t stand there with your hat in your hands. Get yourself on over here.”
Lucy and Carina were laughing—at his expense—before he reached the table. Lucy sheepishly looked up at him. “I see some things really do stay the same around here.”
Lane nodded and squeezed in beside her, their hands touching briefly beneath the table. “Were you hoping I’d be here?” Lane whispered to Lucy while Carina attempted to teach his mother a few words of Italian.
“The thought had crossed my mind.” She smiled. Her hair fell freely around her shoulders, still damp from her shower. Barely any makeup and she outshone everyone else in the place.
Throughout breakfast, their legs casually brushed against e
ach other. And they were both so apologetic that it bordered on comical. Lane wanted to reach under the table and secretly entwine his fingers with hers. It wasn’t his brightest idea and was probably even the stupidest thought he’d had all week. But it drove him crazy thinking about it. He hadn’t been this close to her—for this long—since they were kids.
When it came time for them to leave, his body felt heavier, as though someone had attached lead weights to his feet. He wasn’t sure if it was from his country-fried steak and eggs or his reluctance to go.
After reconfirming Carina’s lesson in an hour, Lane drove his mom home. It didn’t take long for her to start on him. “Now I understand why you wanted to go to breakfast. You could’ve just told me instead of making me think you really wanted to spend time with me.”
“I did, and I promise you, I didn’t know she’d be there.” Lane hated that his mother thought he was using her. “I genuinely want to start having our Saturday breakfasts again. And it doesn’t have to be The Magpie, and it doesn’t even have to be in Ramblewood. I want to spend more time with you and I usually have Saturday mornings free.”
“Okay,” his mother skeptically agreed. “I get to choose the place and I won’t tell you where until you pick me up. But you need to promise me something.”
“Anything,” Lane said.
“If you give Lucy another chance—and I suspect you will—don’t let her break your heart again.”
Lane stopped in front of her apartment and shifted the truck into Neutral. “She has me so wound up I don’t know if I’m coming or going. I never expected to see her again and now that I have, I can’t imagine a world without her in it.”
“Sounds like that blasted lovebug again.” Barbara popped open her door. “Speaking of bugs...when you see that old codger of a bunkmate of yours, tell him he still owes me a dance after he cut out of Slater’s early last week.”
Lane shook his head. Rusty and his mother had been doing the dance of the non-love, non-dating, “we’re just friends,” “he’s too old for me,” “she’s too young for me,” non-relationship thing for a year now. “I’ll call you later, Mom.” He loved them both, but relationship role models they were not. Lane wanted the love, dating, “more than friends,” “we’re perfect for each other” relationship thing. And today more than ever, he wanted it with Lucy.
* * *
LUCY HAD CALLED Rusty after they left The Magpie and pushed their lesson back an hour. She trusted Lane with her daughter, although she wasn’t sure how she could trust a man she hadn’t seen in ten years. She didn’t know him as an adult. She’d been back only a handful of weeks and she’d already left her child with him. Whether she trusted him or not, Lucy had made some poor choices throughout her life and she didn’t want her renewed feelings for Lane to cloud her judgment when it came to her daughter’s safety. This whole barrel-racing thing had her belly doing flip-flops worse than when she was on the back of a cutting horse.
Lane waited for them in front of the stables. She’d expected Carina’s first lesson to be on Lane’s horse. But the brown-and-cream-colored American paint by his side was much smaller than his own mount.
“Carina, this is Jigsaw.” Lane ran his hand over the horse’s mane. “He’s the newest member of my family.”
“You bought him?” Carina asked, wide-eyed.
“I did. He’s much smaller than our stock and nobody else wanted him. Now you’ll always have a horse to visit or ride whenever you want.”
“Lane.” The gesture moved and worried Lucy at the same time. “I told you we couldn’t accept anything.”
“And you’re not. Jigsaw is my horse and I’m loaning him to your daughter.” Lane flashed her an “I beat you at your own game” grin. “I’ve been working with him for five years, and much like with Frankie, I became too attached to let him go.” Lane handed Carina the lead rope. “Would you like to walk him over to that corral on the far right?”
Carina threw her arms around Lane’s waist before giving Jigsaw a hug. After they were out of earshot, Lucy waggled a finger at him. “I think there’s more to your Jigsaw story than you’re telling me, but there’s no replacing the smile you’ve put on her face. Thank you.” Lane walked with her to the corral. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to hang around for her lesson.”
“I figured you might,” Lane said.
“I’m still trying to figure out her fascination with barrel racing and complete disregard for dressage. I don’t know if another kid said something to her at school or what. She won’t talk to me, but maybe she will to you.”
“If the opportunity presents itself, I’ll see what I can find out,” Lane said. “She’s a perceptive kid. If I just come out and ask her, she’ll know you put me up to it.”
“Her drive is strong when she sets her mind to it and she can be a little difficult. I’m hanging around today because I want to make sure she listens to your instructions. She’s under the impression barrel racing doesn’t have many rules.”
“It has plenty of rules,” Lane reassured her.
“I know that you know that, but Carina’s used to a very disciplined style of riding and to her, an eight-year-old-going-on-twenty know-it-all, this will be easy.”
“Gotcha.” Lane entered the corral with Carina and Jigsaw. “Let’s start with Western Saddling 101.”
Lucy sat on the fence rail, trying not to laugh. By the time Lane had Carina lift the saddle on and off Jigsaw a solid ten times, the word easy had faded from her vocabulary. After an hour, her daughter looked the way Lucy had after her first lesson with Rusty.
“You did good.” Lane unbuckled Carina’s helmet. “You have a natural ease in the saddle.”
“I can’t believe how different it is from English riding.” Carina limped slightly as they led the horse back to the stables. “Can I groom him?”
Lucy checked her watch. She was due to meet Rusty in a few minutes.
“She can stay with me until you get back or I can drop her off at Ella’s. I’m assuming you and Rusty are riding out.”
Lucy nodded. Rusty felt she had advanced out of the pen and into an actual herding scenario. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” Lucy pulled her key ring from her pocket and removed her house key. “Here, in case she wants to go home. She hasn’t ridden for a few months and I have a feeling she might be a little sore. She can’t stay there alone, though.”
“Do you have food in the house?” Lane asked.
“Of course.”
“Then we’ll be fine.”
Lucy gnawed on her bottom lip. She didn’t know why she was trusting Lane in her house with her daughter, but besides Ella and Nicolino and a few of the nannies she’d hired, she felt more secure with him around her child than anyone else.
“Go show Rusty what Italian cowgirls are made of.”
Lucy gave her daughter a hug and a kiss goodbye, then stopped herself as she almost gave one to Lane. It felt natural—like the way they should have been.
* * *
LUCY HAD BEEN RIGHT. Within the hour, Carina had been ready to go home. After she’d changed out of her horse clothes and shown him around the cottage, she settled on the couch while he fixed them both a snack of sliced apples with peanut butter.
“What are we watching?” Lane sat beside her, noticing the framed photo of a man resembling Carina on the end table.
“That’s my dad,” Carina said, ignoring his question. “I put a picture of him in every room so he’s always watching over me and Mamma. I miss him so much.”
Lane swallowed hard. He knew exactly how she felt. “I know you do, munchkin.”
Carina snatched an apple slice. “This is my mom’s favorite snack.”
Lane remembered the first time he’d made apples and peanut butter for Lucy. She’d thought it was the oddest thing until she tried it. At least she still carried some part of him with her.
“We don’t get many channels. Mamma says we can’t afford cable. I think cartoons are sti
ll on.”
Lane flipped through the channels on the remote. “How’s school? Are you making friends?”
Carina shrugged. “The cool kids are in the Junior Rodeo.”
That explained her desire to switch from English to Western riding. She wanted to fit in. “Maybe we can go to a Junior Rodeo competition. But we have to run it by your mom first.”
“Really? I would love that.” Carina munched on her snack. “How come you don’t have kids?”
She knew how to ask the hard questions. “I—I didn’t think I wanted kids until recently.”
“How come?” Carina asked.
It’s complicated. “My dad was a truck driver. He was always on the road, so I didn’t get to see much of him when I was growing up. He always promised we would spend time together later, when he could afford to take time off. Later never came. When he died, my mom worked multiple jobs to support us and I didn’t get to see her much, either. I never had the chance to do kid things. I was too busy hanging around ranches learning how to be a working cowboy. I didn’t want to put another kid through that.”
In his mind, kids deserved parents who could not only afford them but also afford to spend time with them. It was something he noticed Lucy hadn’t had the opportunity to do much of with Carina.
“You spend time with me.”
Lane ruffled her hair. “I’m making more money than I was back then, and let’s just say my life didn’t go quite as I planned.” It had veered further off course since Lucy popped back into his life.
Carina’s questions had triggered a memory he’d forgotten about. He and Lucy had been planning their future together in Wyoming. A ranch hand’s salary didn’t pay much and they would have felt more of a crunch since Lane had planned to rent an apartment in town with her instead of living in a bunkhouse. They’d briefly discussed the possibility of a family, but they’d concluded they were too young and too poor to even consider it. At least, he thought they’d decided together. Lucy had agreed with him at the time, but maybe she hadn’t meant it. He’d been so mad at her for leaving him without a word that he’d wanted to stay mad at her once he’d learned of Carina. The more time he spent around the both of them, the more he began to understand what Lucy had meant when she said if she’d never married Antonio, Carina wouldn’t have existed. And he’d never wish for that. Carina was destined to be Lucy’s daughter and it wouldn’t have happened if she had followed him to Wyoming. He never thought he’d forgive her, but he had without even realizing it.
