by Janet Dailey
In Paige’s room, Kira turned down the bed and pulled off Paige’s sneakers. For now, the soft leggings and tee she wore would do for her to sleep in. Jake eased her onto the bed. As he slipped his hands away, Kira pulled up the covers and tucked them around her.
They stood for a moment, looking down at the child they both loved. Jake’s arm stole around Kira’s waist and pulled her close to him. How would it feel, she wondered, to be a real family, sharing moments like this every night?
The mood was shattered by the sound of Dusty’s raised voice from the living room. “Where did this letter come from, Consuelo? How long has it been here?”
With a moan of dismay, Kira tore herself away from Jake and rushed back down the hall.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Kira had planned to wait for the right time before giving the letter to her grandfather. Now it was too late. By the time she reached the living room, Dusty had torn open the exotically stamped envelope and unfolded the single handwritten page.
As he read the letter, the old man went pale. Crumpling the thin paper in his fist, he collapsed onto the sofa.
“What is it?” Kira flew across the room to his side.
He stared into the empty cavern of the fireplace, as if seeing some presence there. “Barbara’s gone,” he said. “The letter’s from her husband. She died of a fever three weeks ago. All this time—you’d think that, as a father, I’d have some kind of sense that it had happened. But no, I’ve felt . . . nothing.”
Wordless, Kira sank down beside him and wrapped him in her arms. She’d expected something like this when she’d heard about the letter. But that didn’t lessen the shock, especially for Dusty, who’d now lost his wife, his two daughters and a beloved granddaughter, all before their time.
Kira hadn’t seen Wendy’s mother in years. The woman she remembered as a pretty, talkative blonde had changed after marrying a stern preacher. She’d disowned Wendy for getting pregnant, and hadn’t even come home from Africa to attend her daughter’s funeral. Paige would never know the grandmother she’d just lost.
But Kira’s grief was mostly for her grandfather, who felt so frail as she held him. His aging frame shook with the strain of holding back tears.
“Will her body be coming home?” Kira asked, thinking that a funeral service might at least bring some closure.
He shook his head. “They buried her in a little plot behind the mission. She’ll never be coming home again. I’ll never even get to visit her grave.”
Kira’s arms tightened around him. Glancing up, she saw Jake standing in the entrance to the dining room. He would have heard enough to know what had happened. “The students will be coming to eat,” he said. “I’ll bring them in through the kitchen and keep them quiet.”
“Thanks.” Kira’s lips moved, barely voicing the word.
“And tell Dusty how sorry I am. If there’s anything I can do—”
“You’re already doing it.” She met his gaze and saw the warmth and sympathy there. Then he disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, probably to tell Consuelo what had happened and to intercept the students before they could burst into the house, laughing and talking.
She stayed with Dusty for a while, letting him reminisce about Barbara and her growing-up years. When the old man was talked out, she steered him gently off to bed and waited outside his room until she knew he was settled for sleep. Then she checked on Paige and wandered back through the living room. Opening the front door to step out onto the porch, she nearly bumped into Jake, who was standing on the threshold.
“Whoa there!” He steadied her with his hands on her shoulders. “I was just about to knock.” He stepped inside, closed the door behind him and gathered her close. Kira nestled against his chest, taking comfort in his solid strength.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered against her hair.
“I’m sorry, too, even though she wasn’t my favorite person,” Kira said. “Especially after the way she treated Wendy. It’s Dusty I’m grieving for. He’s lost his whole family now.”
“He’s got you and Paige.”
“But that’s not the same. Barbara was his daughter. He’d always hoped to see her again when she came home. But now, as he said, he can’t even visit her grave.”
He eased her away, far enough for her to see his face. “That’s part of why I’m here,” he said. “Your students want to do something for him tomorrow morning. A surprise.”
“ ‘A surprise’?”
“It was Calvin who came up with the idea. It might be a little over-the-top, but their hearts are in the right place. I’m all for letting them do it.”
“You’re asking my permission? Without telling me what it is?”
He nodded, still holding her. “They’ll need an hour or so after the horses are taken care of. I’ll have my eyes on them the whole time. It won’t be dangerous, and it won’t hurt anything. Trust me, this could be good for them, and I hope for Dusty. He can even come out and watch if he’s feeling up to it.”
Kira looked up into his earnest eyes. “Trust me,” he’d said. How long had it been since she’d felt free to trust—to let go and let someone else take control, however briefly? Could she do it now? What if something were to go wrong?
“Trust me.”
Her trust, Kira realized, was what this broken man needed most. It was the one vital, healing gift she could give him. Starting now.
“You’re sure they’ll be all right?” she asked.
“They’ll be fine, Kira.”
“Go ahead, then. Just be careful.”
He opened the front door, gave her a lingering kiss and vanished into the darkness.
* * *
The next morning, after a sleepless night, Kira rolled out of bed at her usual five thirty a.m. By six, she’d showered, dressed, pulled her hair back, applied sunscreen and lip balm, strapped on her wristwatch, made her bed and left her room, ready for the day.
Ordinarily, she would have gone outside to make sure her students were up. But this was no ordinary day. With the tragic news from Africa still fresh, she would need to be here for Dusty and Paige.
After nearly two weeks in the program, the students would know the routine, and Jake would be there to keep them in line. This morning her own small family had to come first.
Peeking into Paige’s room, Kira saw that the little girl was still curled in sleep. Dusty’s room was empty, his bed made, his flannel robe hung neatly on its customary hook behind the door.
The dining-room table was set for breakfast. No one had come in yet, but she could hear Consuelo stirring in the kitchen and smell the aromas of bacon and coffee.
She found Dusty sitting at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee. He looked haggard, his eyes bloodshot. But he was shaved, combed and neatly dressed in a fresh shirt and jeans.
Stepping behind him, she bent and pressed her cheek against his. Consuelo, scrambling eggs at the stove, gave her a quiet smile. Kira walked to the counter, poured coffee into a mug, added some milk and took a seat across the table from her grandfather. “How are you this morning?” she asked. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
He shook his head. “Not much to be done. Only thing that’s changed is what we know. So I reckon we’ll just go on with the day as usual.”
Kira sipped her hot, bitter coffee. “The students wanted to do something special for you. Jake said it was to be a surprise, but since I don’t know what it is, I thought I’d better prepare you.”
“That’s nice of them. I’ll at least pretend to be pleased.” He spoke as if every word were an effort. “You and Paige are my only heirs now. This ranch will be all yours when I pass on.”
“I hadn’t even thought about that,” Kira said, which was true.
“I’d wondered how to handle it if Barbara came back and wanted her share, most likely in cash. Guess I won’t have to wonder anymore.” His voice cracked slightly.
“We don’t have to talk about this now.” Kira reached
across the table and covered his hand with hers.
“I don’t even have a picture of her that isn’t ten or fifteen years old,” he said. “She’s just . . . gone.”
At that moment, Paige wandered into the kitchen. Still dressed in yesterday’s shirt and leggings, she yawned and rubbed her eyes. Her gaze fixed on Dusty. “Why do you look sad, Grandpa?” she asked.
He gave her a melancholy smile. “Just some sad news, honey,” he said. “Your aunt Kira can tell you about it.”
Taking her cue, Kira rose. “Come on, Paige, let’s get you bathed and ready for the day,” she said, leading the little girl back to the bedroom. While Paige splashed in the tub, Kira did her best to explain the passing of the grandmother she’d never met.
“So my grandma is up in heaven with my mom now,” Paige said. “I bet they were really happy to see each other.”
“Let’s hope so.” Kira helped Paige out of the tub and wrapped her in a towel. “Now let’s go and get you dressed.”
* * *
By the time Kira returned to the kitchen with Paige, Dusty had gone to sit on the porch with the dog. The students had finished eating and were busy with morning chores. If the planned surprise was going to happen, it would have to be soon. She had her own full agenda for the day.
When Paige had finished breakfast, Kira took her outside. The students had finished with the stable and turned the horses loose in the paddock. Now, wearing work gloves and carrying shovels, hoes and rakes, they headed toward the hills that rose behind the ranch yard.
The nearest hill was a small one, low with an easy slope, and slightly rounded top. The trail, where Kira’s students had led their horses on past outings, wound around its base. That hill was where the young people were headed now.
“What the devil’s going on?” Dusty had risen and walked to the porch rail, where he could see what was happening.
“It’s a surprise.” Kira picked up an empty chair from the porch and carried it to a shady spot at the side of the house with a view of the hill. “Come on down here, where you can watch them.”
Dusty came down off the porch and took his seat. Tucker followed him, resettling himself at the old man’s feet. The dog seemed to sense his distress. He had stayed close to his master all morning.
Paige climbed onto his lap to watch as the students began clearing an area, about six feet across, at the top of the hill, smoothing the earth and edging it with a circle of stones. With that done, they began searching the slope, bringing back rocks to pile at the center of the circle in a narrow pyramid shape.
“What the blazes are those kids doing?” Dusty muttered.
“Calvin calls it a memory cairn.” Jake had come from around the house to stand behind them. “They’re building it to honor your daughter, Dusty. When you look up there and see it, you’ll remember her. And after it’s done, every person who goes up the hill to visit it can bring a rock and add it to the cairn, so it will grow over time.”
Dusty blinked away the first tear Kira had seen him shed. “I’ll be damned,” he said. “That’s right nice.”
“I want to help!” Paige scrambled off Dusty’s lap and raced across the yard toward the hill. Kira was about to call out and stop her, when Jake touched her arm, his message silent but sure.
He was right. Paige was fine, and she wanted to be part of this. Let her go.
Still, she kept her eyes on the small figure as Paige stopped to pick up a pebble, then dashed up the hill to place it on the cairn. Now the students were giving her high fives. Kira couldn’t have been more proud of them, working together to do something unselfish for a grieving old man.
They had learned one of the most important lessons her course had been designed to teach them—and they had earned an early reward. This afternoon she had a surprise in store for them. They would finally get to ride their horses.
* * *
Six days had passed since the building of the cairn. From under the overhang of the shed, where he was replacing the fuel pump on the motorcycle, Jake watched Paige and Kira walk up the hill. Each of them carried a small rock. Paige had insisted on climbing up to the cairn every day, sometimes more than once. Usually, Kira went with her, but Dusty had made the pilgrimage a few times as well. The old cowboy was getting stronger now, insisting that it was time to stop treating him like an invalid.
Dusty’s recovery had given Jake more time to work on the bike. He’d long since given up the idea that a single replacement part would get the old Indian running again. After more than thirty years in the shed, none of the mechanical or electrical parts could be counted on to work. Jake had had little choice except to replace almost everything except the engine, which might still need a rebuild. He’d found the parts online, paid for them with his debit card and had them shipped express to the ranch. The purchase had wiped out his last benefit check, but getting the vintage machine operational would be worth every cent.
“Got it working yet?” Mack’s question cut into his thoughts.
“Nope.” Jake tightened a small bolt, grateful that the ranch had most of the tools he’d needed, rusty but still serviceable.
“How much longer do you think it’ll take?” Mack asked.
“Don’t know. A couple of days, at least. And then I might have to take it somewhere and test it. I promised Dusty I wouldn’t rev it up around the horses.”
“I could go with you,” Mack said. “To test it, I mean.”
“Don’t count on it. You’ve got plenty of other stuff to keep you busy.” Jake had tried to be patient with the boy and to let him help a little. But the kid never seemed to stop talking, especially when Jake was trying to think things out. Mack was becoming a nuisance.
“Will you give me a ride on it when it’s ready?”
“Nope. That’s against the rules. Do you know what liability is?”
“Yeah. It’s like my folks could sue you if I get hurt.”
“That’s right. And that’s why I can’t let you on this bike.” Jake glanced toward the stable, where the students were gathering, waiting for Kira. “Looks like it’s time for your afternoon trail ride,” he said.
“Can’t I stay here and help you?”
“Maybe later. Right now, that’s not what you’re here for.”
Muttering and dragging his feet, Mack headed for the stable. Kira had dropped Paige off at the house and was hurrying to meet her students. She flashed Jake a secret smile as she passed the shed. Things had been good between them since that night after last week’s cookout—so good that he’d dared to wonder if there was a real chance for things to work out here. Watching the easy flow of her jeans-clad hips from the back, he remembered holding her in his arms last night, every curve and hollow of her sweet woman’s body molding to his in the darkness. It had been heaven—or damn close to it.
But was all this too good to last?
He was still riding Dynamite almost every morning and doing his best to stay calm. He’d even tried meditating—a practice he’d learned in the VA hospital. So far, it seemed to be helping. But it was too soon to know for sure. Only time would tell whether he was making real progress.
If he could keep himself under control, he might be lucky enough to find a life here with Kira and Paige. If not, he told himself, it would be time to face the truth: the people he loved so much would be better off without him.
* * *
With just a few days left in the course, time was moving fast. Now that the students were comfortable in the saddle, they were on the trail every day, their outings getting progressively longer. Kira took pride in seeing their confidence. They’d learned new skills, formed new habits and made new friends.
Kira had made it clear that there would be no running or jumping the aging trail horses. Not only was it dangerous for both the horses and their young riders, but it was contrary to the peaceful goal of the course. Most of the students accepted that rule. Only Mack had argued. “What’s the fun of riding a stupid horse if you can’t rac
e it?”
“Sorry, Mack,” Kira had replied. “If you want to race a horse, sign up for riding lessons when you get home and learn to do it safely.”
Mack had made progress here, but his stubborn temperament remained an issue. Kira had long ago learned that there were some problems not even the horses could remedy.
Today their outing would be the longest so far. They’d be riding up to a beautiful alpine meadow for a lunchtime picnic and getting back in time for dinner. Jake would be coming along to bring up the rear and lend an extra hand.
He joined the group at breakfast, looking fresh and well-rested. Kira knew he’d taken Dynamite out for an early-morning ride. As he took his seat, their eyes met across the table. They’d had precious little time together in the past few days, but his warm look told her nothing had changed between them.
“How’s the motorcycle coming along?” she asked.
He grinned. “Would you believe I finally got it running? Yesterday while the horses were out on the trail, I started it up and took it for a slow drive around the yard. It still needs fine-tuning and a lot more work, as well as new tires and new brakes. But those things will have to wait until I can afford them.”
“Wow, you finally did it!” Mack reached for the last strip of bacon.
“With a little help from you,” Jake said. “Too bad you won’t be here when it’s licensed and ready for the road.”
Paige, who’d been eating breakfast in the kitchen, wandered in to stand beside Kira. “Aunt Kira, can you walk up to the cairn with me now?”
Kira sighed. “Sorry, honey, I need to help get the horses ready for the trail ride. We can go tonight, when I get back.”
“But I want to go this morning.” Paige’s lower lip jutted. She turned toward Jake. “Can you go with me, Mister Jake? I’m not supposed to go by myself.”
Jake shot Kira a questioning look. Early on, they’d agreed that he shouldn’t spend time alone with his daughter, but a lot of things had changed since then.
“It’s all right—that is, if you don’t mind taking her,” Kira told him. “Since your horse is already saddled, you can join us when you’re done.”
