But he hated how he’d failed her.
His throat bobbed. He skimmed a careful hand down her back. Fingers soaking in the way she leaned, ever so slightly, into the first real embrace they’d had in months. Not an impulsive kiss, but a real connection. A knowing silence settled in the air.
She loosed a cloudy white breath into the cool autumn air. “I’m sorry I let you and the kids down with that.”
“Nina, honey, don’t think for a minute you’ve let us down. That’s just not true.” He hadn’t thought about how her parents’ deaths might make her feel about vacations. She’d never talked about it much, just that they’d been on a boating trip and she’d been home. In talking about it with her, they’d focused more on the sadness of having lost their parents, not so much on how it happened. “We’re here now.”
And underneath the stars, the girls chowing down on hot dogs, heads keeping time with the lively tune, he saw a happy life. A happy family, as Nina stayed leaning into his back rub. Roiling regret rose in his chest.
If only it wasn’t pretend. If only he could secure this moment, let it take root. Because he had to make it work, and he would do anything—whatever it took—to keep his family together.
Even if it meant participating in the next activity designed to haul his feelings up and out, no matter how painful.
* * *
Nina popped the last bite of her s’more in her mouth, careful to catch all the oozing marshmallow. Beneath bright fall stars and a crooked crescent moon, she felt brighter. Though that been true all day. Especially during goat yoga, which had her laughing until her sides hurt. She couldn’t remember when she’d last let go like that with her husband, just leaned into his strength, absorbed it, relaxed for a moment and felt the security of his arms around her. How she’d missed that.
The lady leading the “pack-tivity” had said it was supposed to be an icebreaker, that they needed to learn when to relax and not take things too seriously. Of course that had been a bait and switch, since now they were supposed to write their regrets on a piece of paper and burn it in the fire.
She clutched the tiny pencil in her hand, still surprised at herself for letting her guard down with him earlier in the evening. She couldn’t deny, though, that it felt good to admit that she’d played a role in the emotional distance between them. Maybe she should continue to let her guard down, get closer to Douglas and work to heal things enough that they could co-parent as a divorced couple. Her hand trembled holding the pencil.
What was Douglas writing? Did she really want to know or would it just make things harder?
Squinting for a moment, she glanced toward his cramped handwriting. All it would take was a simple look since he sat so close that his leg pressed against hers. She shook off the temptation to lean closer, to take a peek into his thoughts, and yes, just to be closer. Then, rising, he tossed his paper into the flames before striding away, and the moment was gone.
She turned her attention to her own scrap of paper. There felt like so many things to offer the fire. To release.
Some folks, like an older gentleman in a thick college sweatshirt, tossed their regrets into the fire without much fanfare, the crackling flame sending the slip of paper sailing to satisfy the hunger of the flame. Other Top Dog campers leaned more into verbal rituals. Spoke their regrets to the fire before sending the paper to join kindling.
And then there were those who looked as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Auburn pigtails framed the freckled face of a woman in her early twenties, mud flecking the thigh of her jeans. She leaned against a tree, looking sidelong at a broad-chested young man with matching mud flecks on his jeans. Their name tags identified them as Top Dog stable staff. The young man had a piece of hay in his curly brown hair that the auburn woman, probably a local college student, pulled out and tapped him on the nose with.
A smile curved his lips as he snatched the hay strand from her before tucking it behind her ear, his hand lingering on her jawline. Even from here, she could see it—the spark, the promise of youth. Had she and Douglas looked that young back when they’d met?
Pressing pen to paper, Nina made smooth, deliberate marks on the page. Each letter formed an incantation and realization. Underlining the phrase for emphasis, she allowed herself one moment to take in the weight of the page.
Scrawled in her neat cursive, she’d committed her regret to paper. Even more than the loss of her marriage, she regretted that her children would feel grief. A unique loss of their own. A death of sorts, even though both parents lived. Although she and Douglas would try to create a peace for them over time, there was still that pain to wade through. From the depths of her gut, her chest squeezing tight as she folded the paper. Line crisp. Private.
Rising from the pink-and-gold quilt beneath the tree where her family was gathered, Nina strode to the fire, her boot steps determined as leaves crunched beneath her. She tossed the scrap into the fire. Silently she watched the smoke rise and trail into the dark sky. Her eyes met her husband’s as he stood on the other side of the fire. So tempting. It was one thing to be vulnerable with him.
It was another to let the attraction flame out of control.
Turning her back to the warm fire and his compelling stare, she returned to the quilt, settling next to Kacie. She leaned into her daughter and nudged her with a shoulder. “Your dad told me you’ve been up late practicing your roping.”
“There’s a big competition coming up.” Her blue eyes gleamed with determination. “I’m going to win.”
“Dedication and hard work are good things.”
“Thanks. So why do you have that look in your eyes?”
Nina scooted back, leaning on her palms. The stretch loosened some of the sore muscles from the goat yoga poses earlier. “What look?”
“The one you get when you have a mom speech coming up.”
She laughed in surprise. “I didn’t realize I do that.”
“It looks kinda like this.” Kacie scrunched her face, brows knitting together. She pressed her palms to her scrunched face, exaggerating as a giggle twined with the sounds of the fiddle.
There was so much joy in this place, in this moment with all those regrets turned to ashes. “I used to say the same thing to my mother.”
“You don’t talk about her much.” Kacie played with a stick, moving dirt around the perimeter of the wedding-ring quilt.
“I don’t? I should be better about that. She was a great mom and she deserves to be remembered and celebrated.”
Shadows darkened Kacie’s usually bright, attentive eyes, her jaw tightening in the same way Douglas’s did when he was fighting back emotion. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my parents.”
“It’s the hardest thing I have ever gone through.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I can see why you wouldn’t want to talk about it.”
“You do know the odds are low that anything would happen to me and your dad.”
“But what if it happened anyway? You gotta admit, our luck hasn’t been the best,” she said, tentatively. She caught her breath before blurting out in a strained voice. “I don’t have any grandparents. Uncle Tyler is dead. You don’t have any brothers or sisters. I don’t want to go to foster care.”
“Oh, Kacie, I’m so very sorry you’ve had that on your heart. You don’t have to worry.” Nina brushed a thumb over her daughter’s cheeks, holding her slender face. She worked a smile to her mouth. “You know the Jacksons, right?”
“They’re the ones who got everyone together to help watch over the farm while we’re here.”
“Yes, they did. Well, they have agreed that if something—heaven forbid—were to happen to me and your dad, they would become your guardians. Trust me, I would not let what happened to me happen to you and Kelsey.”
Kacie swallowed. Twice. “Thanks, Mom.” She scrubbed her face, the weight
falling from her as a wry smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Maybe the Jacksons would let us get a trampoline.”
Nina elbowed her playfully. “Should I worry?”
Kacie’s arms snaked around Nina’s waist, squeezing hard, the hug all the more special as they became rarer the older her daughter grew. Then Kacie shot to her feet before bounding away.
Back pressed against the bark of an oak tree, Nina watched Douglas play tag with the girls a safe distance away from the blaze of the fire. Others joined in the timeless game. Out here, woods and mountains around them, she could imagine other families having done the same.
As she turned her attention to the flame, the activity of the day settled into her bones. The fire danced and her eyelids drooped after the day spent in the fresh air. Sleep tugged at her, along with the sense of comfort this place gave her, and she surrendered to the need to shut her eyes for just a moment...
Nina stomped around her bedroom flinging her suitcase on the carpeted floor. She wasn’t allowed to go on the boating trip. And worse yet, Mrs. Donovan, the widow from next door who smelled like talcum powder and mothballs, was staying with her for the weekend.
Being a teenager was hard. Her parents just didn’t understand how frustrating it was that nobody listened to her. She just wanted some independence. She was thirteen, nearly fourteen. Not a kid anymore. Still, they kept treating her like one. Maybe if they’d had other children they wouldn’t be so obsessed with her. Having some sisters, or even brothers, would be nice. Her parents said there wasn’t enough money for more children.
Her folks always worried about money. They said that was why they wanted her to think about a practical career. That photography was a hobby.
She’d been so excited when they saved up to buy a used boat, planning all the photos she would take, maybe even one that she could have blown up and framed for her wall to hang alongside the Annie Leibovitz and Steve McCurry posters. She just wanted a little adventure, a simple boat ride.
Then the dream imagery shifted, changing too swiftly for her to get her bearings until she was suddenly standing on the shoreline. But it was also her room with a lake coming into view, Nina watching her parents cruise by on the boat. Smoke billowed from the engine as it smacked into another vessel. She saw the panic on her parents’ faces. Tried to scream...
And then she was on the boat. Her parents faded, replaced by Douglas and the girls. Water pouring over the sides, higher, as they sank...
Gasping, Nina sat up so fast her head knocked the tree trunk, bark rasping against her skull. Blinking fast, her eyes adjusted to the dark, campfire now nothing more than coals. She breathed deeper, drawing in gulps of air, the panic of drowning still clinging to her.
The music had stopped. People were standing and folding their blankets. Her husband was staring down at her, hand extended. Their daughters behind him, gathering up their backpacks.
This evening had been a beautiful time away, but she would do well to remember their purpose for coming to the Top Dog Dude Ranch. To help their children see that even though they were splitting, she and Douglas could still get along as parents. They would still be a family, just living in separate homes.
But she absolutely couldn’t afford for them to harbor false hopes. She understood all too well how much it hurt to lose the perfect family.
* * *
Rope sailing toward the sheep, Kacie’s breath caught in her chest. Waiting for the loop to deliver as she pictured it in her mind. The throw landed true. Satisfied, she released the hold.
Ready to start again.
It was the fifth time in a row the lasso had landed as she planned. She felt like she’d found her stride.
Murmurs and snippets of conversation grew louder. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she took in a gathering crowd of folks dressed warmly. Watching her.
She stood up straighter and added a little flair to her wrist movement as she swung the lasso again. Simple stuff really, but she enjoyed the way folks at the petting zoo oohed and ahhed like she was doing something special. This was certainly a lot more fun than Kelsey’s dumb goat yoga. The baby goats were cute enough, but they climbed all over everyone at the worst possible times until people were a tangle of arms and legs.
The least the silly critters could have done was topple her parents into each other so maybe they would quit looking at each other like they wanted to kiss. So much for the power of magic animals. Her parents had spent most of the session laughing instead. Smiling, even.
It made her gut knot, seeing them look at each other like they used to, making her want something when she’d convinced herself it was better they just get things over with.
Could there be something to what Kelsey said about giving them another chance?
She sneaked a glance at her mom again, but her parents weren’t standing close anymore. Her mom’s head turned toward the grandmother, her daughter and granddaughter.
Cupping her hands around her mouth, the grandmother shouted, “You’re on fire, lovely.”
Her cheeks blazed with heat. So often, it was Kelsey who won all the praise from adults. She never had a grandma or a grandpa. The other kids at school would tell stories about spending the summer with their grandparents, or getting spoiled at Christmas. She was sad to miss out on that. But mostly sad her parents didn’t have parents anymore.
Wind whipped through the grounds of the petting zoo. The scent of hay carried through as the breeze chilled all the skin on her hands and cheeks—everything not covered by her new green Top Dog Dude Ranch sweatshirt. A couple of kids stood in a pen, taking turns feeding a baby lamb with a bottle. Another little boy was putting coins in a machine spitting out pet treats like gumballs. Some kids were gathering eggs in the chicken coop like it wasn’t a daily chore.
Though the brim of her father’s Stetson shadowed his eyes, Kacie could tell that Dad was having an enthusiastic conversation with Jacob, the ranch owner who’d just arrived to the fence. Her dad didn’t talk to many people these days, not since Uncle Tyler died.
Beyond the sheep, Kacie tracked the movement of a young couple feeding pigs. They held hands tight. How could she get her parents to do that?
Amplified by the wind, the ranch owner’s voice carried over to Kacie as she set herself up to throw the lasso again. “When she’s older, we should hire her to be a part of our summer camp. Or maybe you could even start your own program on your farm. She certainly is a natural.”
“You should see her ride.” He rocked back on his boot heels. “The girl has a gift.”
Kacie made her eyes focus on the sheep in front of her. But still registered the movement of chickens pecking at the scattered seed by one of the stable hands—a girl with red hair.
“When we went riding, she certainly looked like she was born in the saddle,” Jacob’s answer rumbled back.
Her dad rubbed along the back of his neck like he always did when he was tense. “It’s good to see her so confident and happy.”
She let the lasso fly, trying to not get psyched out by all the compliments.
The grandmother chuckled. “I can’t imagine her any other way.”
“Since her sister jumped ahead in school, Kacie has struggled with insecurity.”
Her lips went tight and she flung her lasso hard. Missing. Ugh. Didn’t they know she could hear them? And even though she should just move away, she couldn’t stop eavesdropping.
“It’s hard enough not to be competitive with your siblings. I can’t imagine what it’s like for twins.”
No. Kidding.
Kelsey’s voice rang out from across the petting zoo. She played with the hem of her pale pink Top Dog Dude Ranch sweater. “Hey, Mom and Dad, come over and check out the llama.”
Her parents approached from their opposite corners, but stood on either side of their daughter. No surprise.
Sti
ll, there was no denying that her sister was 100 percent correct about the ranch being the right place to help their parents. And being here together, as a family? It made Kacie’s chest ache wanting it to be forever. It was scary to want something so much. But now that she’d stopped hiding from it, she needed to do something. To make something happen. No doubt, this was their last chance and time was ticking away on their days at the dude ranch.
Well, Kelsey thought she knew everything, planning and overplanning. Kacie knew that sometimes you had to shake things up, even if that meant taking the reins and tampering with the schedule.
Chapter Seven
Who would have thought when he’d teased his wife about getting a couples’ massage that somehow a snafu in the schedule would land them on two tables, side by side in their cabin’s great room? While this wouldn’t have been his pick, he now wondered why he hadn’t made it happen before. The view of his wife was incredible, and he was thoroughly enjoying looking his fill.
A hand’s reach away, Nina lay on her stomach, a sheet draped over the sweet curve of her bottom, but she was otherwise bare. Her creamy shoulders glowed with oil. His only regret? That he wasn’t the one stroking her back.
A husband-and-wife massage team—Patsy and Lonnie—had put them both at ease with stories about their grandchildren. They’d even brought their little Pomeranian named Waylon, the orange fluff ball currently curled up snoozing under Nina’s table. The scent of lavender clung to the air, instrumental guitar music flowing through a portable speaker. Candles flickered along the fireplace mantel.
He hadn’t wanted to push her the night of the bonfire when she’d let him hold her. It had been a good start, but he wanted to build on that. Granted, it would be a challenge to keep things platonic between them once this massage was done. He couldn’t even keep his eyes off the graceful line of her arm draped over the side of the table. What he wouldn’t give to kiss his way from her fingers, to the sensitive crook of her elbow, all the way to her shoulder. Then ease her onto her back and... He cut the thoughts short before he embarrassed himself with an erection in front of Patsy and Lonnie.
Last-Chance Marriage Rescue Page 8
