As the date for the class reunion approached, Linda had turned more and more to Anne for guidance and support. The official reunion committee had splintered, leaving Linda holding the bag. Anne had found herself negotiating with caterers and hiring a DJ after someone's brother's friend bailed. The extra work added to her load, but it had brought the two women closer. And Anne didn't regret that.
"You like that hat, don't you?" Linda asked.
Anne looked up at the brim. "Actually, I do. I didn't think I was the cowboy-hat kind of person, but it's functional and--according to my daughter--considerably less goofy than my gardening hat."
The white Stetson had belonged to her mother. Anne had planned on buying herself a hat, but after outfitting Cowgirl Zoey at the western-wear shop, she'd depleted her budget. Fortunately, Will wasn't charging her for her daughter's riding lessons. "Zoey is my guinea pig," he'd explained when they sat down to discuss the idea of opening up group lessons to non-guests. "If I fail, you'll be one less person I need to refund."
Anne didn't expect him to fail. Ever since their brainstorming session, which she privately referred to as Kiss Night, Will had proven time and again that he was smart, flexible, conscientious, and a team player. If the Silver Rose were a WHC property, he'd have been flagged for a promotion and earned several bonuses by now. At times, his innovative ideas reminded Anne of her mother.
Like when he organized an impromptu coyote-howling contest on the night of the full moon and didn't invite her. True, she'd retired early after handling an emotionally trying situation when a single guest made a pass at one of the girls on her housekeeping staff. She'd appreciated Will's consideration, but the glowing reports the next morning from their sleepy-eyed guests had made Anne feel left out, just as she had in high school.
Once an outsider, always an outsider.
"What do you think about our dynamic duo?" Linda asked, drawing Anne from her pity party. "Are they going to be dangerous in a couple of years or what?"
Anne turned her gaze on the youngsters in the corral. Zoey and Tressa--Linda's daughter, who was a year younger than Zoey--were as physically different as night and day but clones in attitude.
Tressa was chubby and dark, Zoey thin and fair. Tressa's long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail that reached almost to her waist. Zoey's thin braids barely cleared her shoulders. Tressa's jeans and boots looked broken in, probably because they were hand-me-downs from an older cousin. Zoey's were fresh from the store. But both girls were beauties, and to their mothers' dismay, flirted with the instincts of courtesans.
"They already have every cowboy on the place eating out of their hands," Anne said. "I don't even want to think about the teen years."
Linda groaned. "I know. Having a preteen son is torture enough."
"Where is Logan, by the way?" Anne asked. She’d only met the eleven-year-old once.
"At a scout jamboree. His dad drove over from Sacramento to take him. They left yesterday. Tressa would have been inconsolable if it weren't for Will's class. She's been looking forward to riding lessons ever since you mentioned it."
Anne recalled the phone conversation that had started out as a discussion about desserts to be served at the reunion and ended with one of those aha moments when they realized they had daughters the same age. Will's decision to offer group riding lessons had struck a chord with both mothers. Anne had immediately invited Linda and Tressa to the ranch for Mystic Pizza night – pepperoni and Julia Roberts's cinematic debut.
The movie garnered mixed reviews, but the new friendship got two thumbs up.
"He's really amazing," Linda said, nodding toward Will. "I've never met a man with such patience. For some reason, I figured a bull rider would lack finesse."
Anne didn't want to know why, but Linda elaborated anyway. "I mean a bull rider's goal is to stick it out for eight seconds. Eight, tiny, wham-bam, thank you, ma'am seconds. Where would that leave a woman?"
Anne had no problem conjuring up an image that made her heart skip a beat and her cheek's flush. "I don't know," she said, because Linda seemed to expect an answer.
Feeling her friend's gaze turn her way, Anne tugged on the brim of her hat and leaned forward to catch Will's lecture. He stood in the middle of the hard-packed dirt corral, a pinto horse on a lead at his side. Thanks to Zoey, Anne now knew that a mixed-colored horse was either a pinto or a paint, although Anne still didn't understand the distinction. A brown horse was either a roan or a bay, depending on the color of the mane. "The hair on its neck, Mom," her daughter had added.
Zoey and Tressa stood, shoulders touching, a few feet away from Will and the horse. In addition to the girls, the disparate class included a woman in her sixties, a couple celebrating their second anniversary, and a middle-aged man and woman who told Anne they came to the Silver Rose to work on their relationship. Anne wasn't sure how herding cattle would help, but she hoped it did.
Although Anne could only catch bits and pieces of Will's speech, she gathered that he was pointing out the horse's body parts. "Withers. Fetlock. Hooves." He moved to the rear of the horse and picked up one foot. The group pressed closer.
Anne's heart stuttered for a fraction of a second, then she reminded herself who was holding the beast's leg. Will. A man of patience. A man who instilled trust in women and beasts. Who generated love and admiration in small children.
Love. Anne was half-afraid to use the word in any sentence. What if what she felt for Will was love? She wanted to attribute her feelings to lust, but she knew that would be a lie. Maybe she'd always been in love with Will, although surely that wild boy with something to prove couldn't have moved her the way this kind, thoughtful man did.
She was certain Will had no clue that she found his selfless acts of kindness sexy. A repaired faucet--who knew the image of a man flat on his back under a sink was a turn-on? A bouquet of wildflowers left on the front porch instead of indoors where it might trigger an allergic response in her daughter. A new plug spliced to her ancient but trusted humidifier.
A hand waved back and forth in front of her face. "Yoohoo, earth to Anne. How's life on planet Will?"
Anne cocked her head. "Sorry. I was planning next week's menu."
Linda's eyebrow rose skeptically. "Oh, really? Is Will the main course?"
Anne felt her face flush. "Pardon?"
Linda clapped her hand solidly between Anne's shoulder blades. "Woman, you are such a bad liar. Don't ever try it professionally."
Anne chuckled. "Okay. I won't."
"Then you admit that you're attracted to Will?"
"He's an attractive man."
"A very political answer. Except for the lying thing, you might have a career in government."
Anne gave up. Actually, she'd been thinking about talking to Linda about her feelings for Will. In the past, Anne had had her mother to use as a sounding board. Anne really needed a woman's perspective.
She turned her back to the arena and said, "Okay. Here's the deal. We kissed." Linda's mouth formed a huge O. "Just once. Well, twice, but there was a fifteen-year gap between times. My point is--we are attracted to each other. But since we're older and wiser, we're not getting carried away by something that isn't going anywhere."
Linda made a rude sound. "That sucks."
Anne agreed, but she said, "He plans to return to his career this fall. I have a new job waiting for me. Different worlds, different--"
Linda interrupted. "Wait. Back up. What was that about Will returning to the pro circuit. Are you sure? I heard a rumor that Will's bull-riding days are over. Kaput."
"Where'd you hear that?"
Linda shrugged. "I don't remember. I've had so much on my mind lately I have trouble remembering my address. But if Will says he's still in the game, then--" She turned suddenly and pointed to the corral. "Look."
Anne's gaze followed her finger. Zoey was no longer standing on the ground. She was perched in the saddle atop the spotted horse. A long way off the ground.
Anne took a shaky breath. Zoey waved with such gusto she almost toppled over, but Will was there. One large, sturdy hand kept her from falling.
"She's beaming like Miss America," Anne said. "Confident. Proud. What a wonderful gift he's given her."
Linda gave a funny peep. "Oh my God. You're in love."
Anne ducked her head to hide the blush. "I already told you we have feelings for each other, but given our totally diametrically opposed goals and agendas, we've decided not to pursue any kind of physical relationship."
Linda made a face. "Say that again in English. Never mind. I got the gist and the gist stinks. You'd pass up a chance at happiness because it doesn't fit into your schedule?"
Anne's head was beginning to throb. Maybe my hat is too tight. Or it could be sleep deprivation. Practically every night since their kiss, Anne had awakened to a steamy dream that left her heart pounding and her extremities tingling. "Our careers aren't exactly copacetic, Linda."
"So find a new career."
The thought had crossed her mind, until yesterday's email from Roger McFinney informing her that WHC had just signed the new employee health-care package that Anne had pushed for. Given her daughter's precarious--and expensive--health issues, Anne couldn't afford not to work for WHC.
Anne sighed. "We're doing the grown-up thing."
"Grown-ups deserve a little fun once in a while. I remember your mother telling me that her only regret in life was not visiting you and Zoey more often."
It was a regret--and guilt--that Anne shared.
In the silence that followed, Anne could hear the thud of hooves as Will led the horse in a circle. "Mommy, look at me," Zoey called. "This is so much fun. You should try it."
Anne smiled and waved. Her gaze connected with Will's for a split second--just enough to see longing, possibly even desire. Her heart lifted and fell in a dizzying way that made her fingers grip the rusted metal gate. Maybe Linda was right. Anne and Will didn't have a future together, but they did have a summer.
Swallowing, she took a breath then said, "So, is it too late to sign up for the reunion?"
Linda's eyebrow arched suspiciously. "No, it's not too late."
Anne looked at Will. Would he go with her if she asked him? There was only one way to find out.
Linda gave a tiny yelp and threw her arms around Anne. "Your mother would be proud of you."
"What do you mean?" Anne asked, feeling awkward with the public display of affection.
Linda stepped back. "Esther and I had a couple of long talks in the waiting room when my mom was in the hospital. I was pretty disillusioned after my divorce. I told her I'd probably never remarry.
"I don't remember her exact words, but basically she said that love without risk comes too easy and we don't appreciate it. Great love requires great risk, but when you look back at your life, it's what you'll remember best."
Anne smiled. "That sounds like Mom. Only a brave woman would leave her family and friends to travel to a ranch on the other side of the country with a man she barely knew."
"But look how great her life turned out," Linda said. "She and A.J. were the happiest couple I've ever met."
Anne started to agree but noticed two sprites racing toward them. She reached up to unhook the latch.
"So, are you going to ask Will to be your date?" Linda asked, shuffling sideways.
Will was walking toward them, too. He'd handed the horse's lead to a young cowboy. The adults in the class followed the horse and cowboy to the barn. Anne knew that Will had scheduled a short trail ride after lunch.
"Maybe," Anne whispered, opening her arms to Zoey, who launched herself at Anne.
Anne let out a grunt. "My goodness, girl, are you growing? I swear you weigh more now than when we got here."
"Yep," Zoey said with obvious glee. "I'm growing like a potato plant in the compost pile. Will said so."
A big hand tugged down the brim of Zoey's hat. "You weren't supposed to repeat that, kiddo. You were supposed to tell her that we had to let down the stirrups a notch," he said, his tone teasing. "You're going to have long legs. Like your mother."
Zoey leaned back, her weight pulling Anne a step closer to Will. "Give me a piggyback ride, Will? Please?"
"Me, too," another high-pitched voice chirped.
"Two freeloaders?" he asked, cocking his hat back on his head. A sweat line showed on his forehead and Anne had to curl her fingers in her palm to keep from wiping it. "Well, okay."
Going to one knee, he helped the little girls climb up like twin monkeys. With a wink to Anne, he made a silly whinny and jumped up, lightly bucking. The shrill cries of glee made Anne's heart swell with tenderness. "Don't hurt him, girls," she said, lightly touching the sleeve of his western-style shirt. "I need him to be my date to the reunion dance."
Will stopped abruptly and swung around. "Say what?"
Anne was suddenly mute. She'd never asked a man out before.
Linda intervened. "I've been twisting her arm to come and she finally said yes, if you'd take her." She made an impatient gesture. "It's your class, Will. You should be there."
Will looked from Linda to Anne. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
Feeling a blush that threatened to consume her, Anne nodded. "Yes. Will you go with me? Please."
His chest rose with a deep inhalation.
Over the giggling cries of "Giddyup" And "Go, horsey" came a simple, but meaningful, "My pleasure."
Chapter 8
"You look be-uuu-tiful, Mommy. That dress is the prettiest one in Grandma's closet."
Anne looked in the mirror of the antique vanity to see her daughter sprawled on her belly on the bed behind her. "Thank you, honey. It is lovely, isn't it?"
She studied her reflection, running her hand across the neckline of the dress. It was butter yellow, a color Anne wouldn't have thought suited her. The sleeveless, fitted crepe bodice hinted at daring without revealing too much, and its tailored waist with a self-belt made her feel thin. The perky fullness of the chiffon skirt, which was perhaps a tad shorter than necessary, showed off the tan she'd acquired from working in the garden.
Anne loved the dress, although she had to admit, if she'd seen it at a store, she'd never have tried it on. The color was too bright, the style too girlish. But when A.J. called last night and Zoey blurted out that Anne was going to look gross because she didn't have time to shop for a new dress to wear to the reunion, he'd asked to speak to Anne.
As she finished applying her makeup, she thought about their conversation. First, he'd instructed her to check in the back of her mother's closet. "Seems to me she mentioned something about buying you a fancy dress at some vintage-clothing shop. I believe the bag has your name on it."
Anne had been dumbfounded. "Why would she do that? I never go to parties."
"Maybe she thought you needed more fun in your life. I know she was worried about how hard you work," he'd answered.
Without intending to, Anne had blurted out her worst fear. "A.J., was Mom disappointed in me? I know I wasn't the typical daughter. No boyfriends, dates, or proms to get excited about. Did she miss that?"
"Oh, honey," he'd said with a sad inflection. "None of that mattered to her. She just wanted you to be happy."
Anne wasn't sure she believed him. She and Esther had argued so much when Anne had lived here, butting heads the way mothers and teenage daughters often did. But Anne hadn't understood then how exasperating her negative attitude must have been for her mother. Now Anne wondered how anyone could fail to love this place. She wondered if she'd made up her mind to hate Nevada, the Silver Rose and all things connected to ranching life before she moved here as a teenager, just out of spite.
Before hanging up, A.J. remarked about a postcard he'd sent from the Black Hills of South Dakota. "I was pretty impressed with the Crazy Horse Monument," he said. "I think Esther would have liked it, too. One of its slogans is--Never forget your dreams. Sounds like her, doesn't it?"
As Anne reached f
or a tissue to blot her lipstick, she noticed the stack of mail that she'd forgotten to drop off in the office. Halfway down the pile was a glossy card. The photo showed the progress being made on a huge statue being carved from a mountain.
Flipping it over, she read A.J.'s shaky scrawl.
"A lot of people called the fellow who started this crazy, but he didn't listen to them. He had a vision that was all his own. Annie, your mother used to brag about your ability to see yourself as you were, not as everyone else thought you should be. When I looked at his mountain, I thought of you."
P.S.: I bought you girls each a turtle necklace. To the Lakota, the turtle represents the heart of the soul, the keeper of life.
Anne dabbed at the moisture in the corners of her eyes and pressed the card to her chest a moment before slipping it back into the pile. There'd be time to read it aloud tomorrow when Zoey added it to the map. That was a little ritual they'd come to enjoy.
Oh, Mom, I miss you so much. Anne desperately wanted to believe that her mother was proud of her, but in the back of her mind, she recalled an argument they'd had over Anne's refusal to attend her senior prom. "Why on earth would I attend some provincial mating ritual when I wouldn't marry one of these local yokels if you paid me?" Anne had cried. Of course, at the time none of the local yokels had invited her to the dance, either.
Now, she was going to Will's class reunion. What if tonight's gala was prom with attitude.
"Anne," Joy called from the first floor. "Will's here."
Anne and Zoey exchanged a look. Joy's voice carried like a ringside announcer's at the circus. Two subsequent door closings told Anne her Silver Rose guests would be waiting downstairs to see them off. Somehow, this date had become fodder for speculation--a real life soap opera played out before their eyes.
Anne had tried her best to downplay the romance aspect. "We're practically related," she'd said more than once. "This is good PR for the ranch. You know, community awareness and networking."
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