by Lilian Darcy
Christie loved animals. She rode horses and bred exotic poultry and showed schnauzer dogs, and surely that should mean she loved children, too, and when the biological clock started ticking and when she saw how happy his brother Doug and sister-in-law Steffie were with their parcel of four, she would start going broody and clucky like those weirdly feathered hens of hers…
But no.
Three months after the move Christie had told him, angry and one hundred percent firm, that she didn’t ever want to be a mom. “I have never hidden that from you, Harrison. You’ve always said you were okay with it. But you weren’t, were you? You thought the little woman would come to her senses in time.”
Which was an unkind way of putting it, but was basically true. They’d been telling each other a lot of unkind truths in recent months.
So he had a decision to make, he had thought. Stay married to Christie and stay childless, or give up on the marriage and find a woman who wanted the same things he did.
But Christie hadn’t left the decision to him. “I want a divorce,” she’d said.
“Wh - ?”
“Do you honestly think we can stay married, when our basic recipe for happiness is so different? Do you honestly think I can go on the way we have been, with you bringing the subject up hopefully every few months? Or not bringing it up, but enacting these little strategies? Making goo-goo faces at cute babies in the supermarket and hoping I’ll suddenly see the light. Talking up the achievements of your brother’s kids. This move, too. I’m surprised you even wanted to look at this place, since it doesn’t have a white picket fence.”
Unkind truths.
Now the divorce was through, and they were still stuck with “this place”—the bribe he’d unconsciously made her, that hadn’t worked. She wanted their five-acre parcel with its three-bedroom log cabin style home and array of outbuildings, because it meant she could keep the poultry, the horses and the dogs. He didn’t want it, because, as he’d told her, she couldn’t afford it on her own and he wanted his share of the sale price so he could buy a decent, sensible house or apartment in town. The place he’d moved into after the separation was only a rental.
This house and its parcel of land was a cute piece of property. He could have been fond of it and happy here in other circumstances, but…
“We have to sell,” he said, for the fiftieth time. “You have to see that there’s no choice.”
She looked at him for a moment, her face pale, her blue eyes papery with tension around the edges, her blond hair scraped back in a high, tight ponytail to keep it out of the way while she cleaned the poultry shed. She was a tiny little thing, neat hips, cute butt, especially in riding clothes. He used to want her like crazy, but it was amazing how deep-running conflict in a marriage could snuff out the last vestiges of desire.
For no reason at all, an image suddenly flashed into his mind of tall, nicely-curved, trouser suit-clad Kate MacCreadie standing beside her old pickup truck a few days ago, with her bobbed hair all fluffy and messy around her face, the color of dark honey and molasses, two pairs of glasses on the top of her head and a third perched low on her nose that she’d forgotten were even there. It made him want to smile.
And then above the glasses, her anxious eyes had looked so big and so green, like the copper ore once found in the big, craggy mountain overlooking Marietta…
“You sell it, then,” Christie said, dragging his focus back.
“Me?”
“I’ll move back to Helena. Do you remember my friend Alex? She has a cottage on her ranch that she wants to rent out, long-term. She’s been asking me about it for weeks, but I’ve been holding off. I’ll tell her yes. I’m saying goodbye to ever getting ahead in the property market, probably, but if that’s what I have to do to keep my animals, then I’ll do it. It’s ironic, isn’t it?”
“What’s ironic?”
“You can afford this place on your own, but you don’t want it. I want it, but I can’t afford it.”
“You could if you spent less on the animals.” He’d been astonished to learn how much you could spend on horses and show dogs, if you were really into them.
“The animals are the reason I want it.”
“True.”
“You can sublet your apartment, or let it sit vacant if you have to, move back here and keep this place looking manicured until you find a buyer.” She glared at him. “That’s the deal, Harrison. We would not be in this position if you’d been honest about what you wanted from the marriage, and shown me enough respect to believe what I said about having kids, so you can mop up the spillage, as far as I’m concerned.”
Well, he didn’t love the idea, but she was probably right, it was the best compromise. She would easily find work in her field of aged care nursing back in Helena. She was letting him in for a lot of upkeep until a sale could go through here, but maybe that was the price he had to pay for never having taken her at her non-maternal word.
At least it was a decision, a way to move forward.
He sighed. “Let’s talk to the lawyers, then, and get it organized.”
The narrowed eyes didn’t change, but she nodded and gave a tiny smile. “Thanks. I don’t hate you, Harrison.”
“No.”
“But I might have, if this had gone on much longer.”
“Same back at you.”
He worked like a crazy man for the next few weeks to get their unloved piece of acreage on the market, while Christie made plans to move her animals a hundred and forty miles back the way they’d come.
CHAPTER THREE
April, 1996
“You see,” Kate said in apology to the realtor. “I don’t really know what kind of a place I’m looking for.”
“And your budget?”
“I’m not altogether sure about that yet, either.”
Right after her talk with Rob, the kids had all gotten sick and with calving in full swing it had taken her more than a month to even get started on the plan for her new life. Yesterday, the bank had told her how much she’d be able to borrow, but there was the possibility of money from her mother as well. After her dad had died, years ago, her mom had remarried and moved to Texas, deeding the ranch to Rob.
“Which I know is unfair,” Mom had said to her, “But splitting it won’t work. Family succession on a ranch is a nightmare if the generations go on carving it up smaller and smaller. You know Rob will never turn you out of your childhood home.” This conversation had taken place when Rob was just eighteen and Kate twenty-one, the year before he and Melinda had married. “When you’re ready to buy your own place, I’ll give you a chunk of money to help with the purchase.” Kate’s step-father was pretty well off, so it wasn’t an empty promise.
They’d never gotten down to any detail on the arrangement, though. With Rob and Melinda needing Kate so much, the subject hadn’t come up. Now, eleven years later, she wasn’t exactly coming across as a well-prepared prospective buyer, in the realtor’s eyes.
“So you want me to show you a range of places, to help you narrow down your options,” Rick Styles said.
“That’s the idea,” she said firmly. “Apartments, houses, small acreage with a dwelling. I think the small acreage might be what I want, as long as it’s close enough to town, but I’m not sure.”
“There are a few things new on the market, but I’ll also show you a couple of places that have been listed for a while and have come down in price.”
“Sounds good.”
“This afternoon?”
“I’m a teacher. It’ll have to be the weekend.”
“Great!” he said with a cheesy smile.
Unfortunately, Harrison postponed his getaway too late on Saturday afternoon. He saw Rick Styles’s sleek, buffed vehicle climb the sloping track from the entrance gate and park in front of the house, and Rick himself jump out to come around and open the passenger door for his prospective buyer.
Sellers weren’t supposed to hang around when buyers viewed a p
roperty, but the amount of cleaning and de-cluttering Harrison had needed to do around the place had been a bitch and he hadn’t yet finished sweeping out the two stalls where Christie had kept her horses. She’d packed up the animals and left town two weeks ago, and pretty much the only thing left unfinished was for her to bank the check for her half when the place sold and the money was in.
He thought Rick would show the buyer the interior of the house first, so he skulked around the side, thinking he could reach his car and drive away while they were still marveling at what a great job he’d done with the bathrooms, but it didn’t work out that way.
Instead, he came around to the south side of the house, where Christie’s planned vegetable garden had never really taken off and certainly wasn’t doing so now, and there was Kate MacCreadie, of all people, strolling beside a dirt-filled but otherwise empty bed.
Kate, in a patterned gypsy-style top, neat new jeans and flat, practical shoes. Looking at his house. Changing her life, just as he’d told her she should. He thought about using the “gotta stop meeting like this” line again, because they just kept having these ridiculous encounters, but the line had probably been lame the first time around, so he kept it back.
“Ah, Harrison…” Rick said. “You’re… here.”
“Sorry.” And his car keys weren’t in his pocket, he discovered, so the plan would have backfired even if they had gone into the house first.
“Hi,” Kate said, standing there with her feet planted slightly apart. She had great legs, in those jeans.
Harrison liked her too much.
Noticed her too much.
He already knew that, but it hit him again, seeing her unexpectedly like this. He was way too conscious of her thick hair and warm smile, and of her lush body in its casual clothing. He was equally conscious of his own filthy jeans, ancient water-proof jacket, cowboy flannel shirt, unshaven chin and mud-encrusted boots. The previous times they’d met, he’d had the protection of his uniform or he’d been dressed and ready for socializing.
Not today.
He took a firm hold on himself and let the feeling of inadequacy float on by. She knew about dirt. She’d lived on her family’s ranch her whole life.
Although now apparently she had plans to move. There would be no more speeding tickets on Highway 89.
Right now she was smiling at him, as if she was as pleased to see him as he was to see her, and that tickled him and nudged him in a place he’d almost forgotten existed, after the slow, inevitable collapse of his marriage. He liked that place.
“This is your home?” she said.
“Well, half mine. Joint. My ex. The divorce is why it’s for sale.” Too much information? “You’re looking to buy?” he quickly added.
“Testing the waters.” She turned to see if Rick was in earshot, but he wasn’t, having gone to grab something from the back seat of the car. “Don’t tell Mr. Styles this is only my first dip of a toe. Oh, I guess I shouldn’t tell you that, either.” Was she blushing?
“You have to start somewhere.”
“He’s shown me two apartments in town, and a house on Bramble Lane, as well.”
“Bramble Lane, huh?”
“Not the expensive end.”
Rick was back. “I was going to leave these inside for you,” he said to Harrison. “But since you’re here…”
Harrison took the brochures.
“Only one part of our sales campaign, of course,” Rick said. “Color printed. Scale plan of the dwelling on the reverse side.”
“State of the art,” Harrison commended him kindly.
The man was trying hard. “How ‘bout we let Kate take a good look around?” Rick said in a hearty voice.
“Well, maybe Harrison could be the one to—” Kate began.
“I could show her around myself, if—” Harrison said at the same moment.
They flicked a look at each other and there was a sudden, shaft of recognition, like the sun breaking through a cloud. The desire and the liking wasn’t just on his side. It went both ways. She looked timid but happy about it. She’d definitely felt it, too. There was pink in her cheeks that hadn’t been there a moment ago, and she brushed her neck self-consciously with the backs of her fingers.
“If that’s what you’d both prefer,” Rick said.
“We would,” Harrison answered, then took another look at Kate, to make sure that she agreed, that he hadn’t read her wrong. She was nodding at him, her eyes big and green and gorgeous. Looking at her was like standing in a patch of warm sunshine after a long winter. You didn’t need to think about it too much, you just enjoyed the glow. He kept thinking of her this way.
Sunshine.
Heat.
Glow.
And three pairs of glasses.
“I’ll wait in the car,” said Rick. He strode off at once.
Harrison and Kate turned back to each other, and the mood seemed easier without the real estate man getting in the way. Kate’s hair stuck out in its thick bob and caught the sun. She probably went lighter on top in the summer months. She had beautiful hair, as well as the big eyes and great legs and nice curves.
Steady, there, big fella.
“So do you want to keep on with seeing the yard, and then look at the house?” he asked.
She wrinkled up her nose. She had those sunglasses up in her hair like she had the last time he’d seen her, but not the two pairs of reading glasses, this time. “I’m probably supposed to do it the other way around.”
“Since I’m not the selling agent, there are no rules.”
She gave a huge smile and took a couple of steps. “Show me, then.”
They wandered around the whole place together, and when he saw it through her eyes, Harrison realized he was more fond of it than he’d thought during all those months of tension with Christie, when the purchase had seemed like just one of the many mistakes he’d made in his marriage.
It was set in the foothills below Copper Mountain, just ten minutes’ driving time from town, and you could see Marietta spread out in the distance, as well as a yawning expanse of Montana sky. Copper Mountain itself was a haze of blue and white, with snow still thick on the higher reaches and in the shaded places.
Lower down, spring sunshine had begun to turn the grass green and lush, and the log cabin nestled prettily among spruce and pine trees, with the barns and other outbuildings, that had been the main attraction for Christie, clustered off to one side.
“It’s beautiful,” Kate said. Once again, she was standing in a patch of sunlight and smiling, her mouth lush and warm. “But maybe I’m crazy to think I want land, when I would be on my own, taking care of it. I’ve seen a couple of nice places in town, too, with much less upkeep.”
“That’s why this is for sale,” Harrison said. “Just wasn’t possible for one of us to hang onto it on our own, after the divorce.”
Oops. He’d said the D word again. What would she think? He felt like an idiot, just dumping it into what had been such a pleasant interlude of wandering and talking.
She made some polite noises of regret and he didn’t know if she was talking about the sale or the divorce or what, so it made no sense a couple of minutes later when he heard himself saying to her, “The divorce was my fault. Christie was honest with me and I wasn’t honest with her and I should have been.” He saw Kate’s shocked look, understood the meaning she’d drawn from the words and added quickly, “I wasn’t cheating on her. I wouldn’t have. But she always said she didn’t want kids and I pretended to believe her and to be fine about it, but really I was just biding my time, because I thought she would change her mind.”
“And she didn’t.”
“No, and she got angry with me for not believing she meant it, and she was right about that. I should have really listened, not made assumptions.”
“It’s the kind of incompatibility that’s hard to get past.”
“It is. In my defense, we were twenty-five when we met.”
; “People do change their minds about the importance of family between their twenties and thirties,” Kate agreed.
“But you can’t count on it. You can’t build your life on thinking they’ll change.”
“No, I guess not.”
“Sorry if that sounds blunt, but I learned the hard way.”
“It’s fine. It’s okay. This would be a great place for kids.”
“Might need an extension to the house, if there were a few of them. It isn’t that big.”
“We should look at it.”
“We should.”
Her mouth turned upside down in a wry smile. “Poor Rick. I’m taking up his whole afternoon.”
Like I care about Rick, right now, when there’s this gorgeous woman making faces at me…
“I expect he’s doing paperwork, or something.”
They went into the house, and Kate wandered around some more, looking at the big, double-glazed windows that took in the view, and the kitchen that was efficient enough for ambitious cooking but homey enough for family eating, too, and the full bathroom and powder room Harrison had spent hours repainting and steam cleaning so that the grouting and tiles gleamed.
She might have glimpsed the books on the end table by the couch – the latest by John Grisham, Michael Crichton, and Stephen King. He felt a little self-conscious about those. She was an English teacher. Would she approve of his taste for commercial blockbusters? He hoped she hadn’t noticed.
“I wish I could offer you coffee,” he said, “But that might be a step too far for Rick.”
Kate laughed. “Wish I could accept the coffee, but I think you’re right. And I need to get home.” She looked at her watch and frowned. “Gosh, I really do need to get home!”
“You live with your brother and his family?”
“That’s right. A ranch to take care of and five kids, way too close in age. It wasn’t Melinda and Rob’s fault. Triplets for pregnancy number three.”
“Wow.”
“It’s why I’ve stayed there so long, helping out. But you were right, what you said to me last month when you pulled me over.” She looked at him, the big eyes all serious. “I need a change. I really, really do. I’d like kids of my own, but staying there helping my brother with his kids isn’t the way to make it happen. It’s wearing me out, and making me resent all of them, and I hate that.”
