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Savannah offered a quick wink of encouragement and Jenny turned to face him. She folded her arms and looked as though she were weighing her options, but in truth he knew she wanted to go. Memories of previous rides rushed back to him, good times that he knew she hadn’t forgotten, either.
“Won’t we freeze our butts off? I don’t think I have the right clothes—”
Savannah moved alongside her friend. “I do.” She wrapped an arm around Jenny’s waist and squeezed hard. “So I guess it’s all settled. Gee, wish I could go with you but—” She withdrew her arm and ran both hands over her rounded middle. “I got some work to do in Max’s office.” She waddled out of the room and called over her shoulder. “Have a good time, you two.”
Shane shuffled his feet on the hardwood floor and hooked his thumbs into his back pockets. “If you don’t want to—”
She lifted her chin. “Who says I don’t want to?”
He waited for a smile or some sign of genuine interest, but all he saw was a mask, that old tough facade he’d seen so often. Her brown eyes met his and didn’t blink. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll meet you in the stable. How long will it take you to get ready?”
“See ya in ten,” she said curtly, then headed down the hall without a backward glance.
What was it going to take to thaw this woman, anyway? And why was he even trying? He started for the door, shaking his head and forgetting about Hannah.
“She’ll come around, son. Don’t let that look fool ya.”
With his hand on the doorknob he looked back at the woman who probably knew him better than any other. Her head was down but she was smiling in that knowing way of hers as she kneaded more dough.
“I’ll be back for some of that bread later. Smells great.”
“Uh-huh.” She kept smiling and kneading as he let himself out.
Before he could reach the stable, Ryder’s pickup truck crunched snow in the driveway and rolled to a stop. Billy darted from the passenger side.
“Isn’t it great, Uncle Shane?” he asked, his breath making small white clouds near his rosy cheeks.
“Isn’t what great, Billy?”
“You know...having Jenny here for the holidays.”
Ryder stepped out and rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder, one eyebrow cocked and a grin from ear to ear. Shane looked from one to the other. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the pair were part of some grand conspiracy. “Yeah. It’s great,” he said finally, forcing an edge of indifference into his voice. He glanced up the road and back. “Done with the plowing already?”
Ryder nudged Billy toward the back door. He didn’t need a second invitation to get out of the cold. “Josh rousted a few volunteers from the bunkhouse at the crack of dawn. They’d cut a path to the farmhouse before we got out here.”
“So how’s little brother doing up there?”
“The new interior partitions are all done and some of the drywall. He even has a bed set up and the fridge stocked. We may not see him for days.”
Shane laughed and started for the stable. “He’ll be back before Jenny’s Thanksgiving dinner. Count on it.”
Ryder followed him from the tack room to the horses as he started saddling a pair. “Speaking of Jenny—”
Shane spun on his heel, about to tell Ryder there were enough matchmakers lurking around, when Jenny opened the large double doors behind him.
Ryder stole a quick peek then smiled and muttered under his breath, “That answers one question. Have a good time.”
“Ryder!” Jenny flew into Ryder’s arms and he spun her around, lifting her booted feet from the ground. “It’s so good to see you again.”
Ryder set her down, his hands lingering on her narrow shoulders. “Ditto, sweetheart. You can’t imagine how excited my wife’s been, waiting for this time.”
“Me, too.”
“Well, sorry to run off, but I promised Billy I’d help him with some science project for school.” He looked back at Shane and winked, then shut the stable doors behind him.
Shane busied himself buckling straps, averting his eyes, trying to ignore the quickening of his pulse as she walked toward him. But soon the sweet smell of warm hay and dung were replaced with the scent of a woman who made him too nervous for his own good. The chestnut gelding he was saddling for her had a different reaction. He whinnied and put his muzzle forward for her to rub, possibly remembering her from before or simply interested in the butter-mint she held in her open palm. He took it greedily and she stroked his neck.
“How you doing, boy. You remember me? Hmm?”
Shane watched and admired her ease. For a city slicker, she did well with horses. If she was afraid of them, they would know. For a second he wondered if she sensed how uncomfortable he was with her. With more poise than he felt he said, “Ready to go?”
She tilted her hooded face to him, mischief dancing in her dark brown eyes. “Don’t I look ready?”
He could see puffs of her breath in the air between them, reminding him that everything wasn’t as warm as the layer of skin beneath his flannel shirt and down-filled jacket. He handed her the reins of her gelding, then walked two stalls over to his own quarter horse.
Once outside the stable, they mounted and he braved a look at her. “You sure you’re up to this?”
She stared at his face, no hint of a smile left on her lips or eyes. Then she said, “I don’t know. Time will tell, I guess.”
There was little doubt in his mind that she was no longer referring to their ride. With a quick look up the road, he dug in his heels and led the way.
Jenny rode past the corral and up the gentle incline, following the diagonal tracks in the otherwise pristine patch of new snow, a little surprised that their horses had left the groomed trail for a more difficult terrain. She stopped alongside Shane at the crest of the first hill and, after catching her breath, relaxed in the saddle and took in the endless horizon. The gelding lowered its head and pawed at the pillows of white beneath his feet, then sniffed so hard that it let out a loud sneeze, which made Jenny laugh.
“That’s better,” Shane said, and she glanced over at him, pretending not to understand, but the meaning wasn’t lost on her. She’d been combative with him ever since he had met her plane. And for what reason? To keep him at arm’s length? There had to be an easier way. It was a beautiful day and it would be a shame not to enjoy it. Besides, how much trouble could they get into out here, bundled up like a couple of Eskimos?
She stroked the horse’s mane and smiled, looking out at the valley and miles of butte and snowdrifted ridges, which almost blinded her with its whiteness. She squinted at the biggest blue sky she’d ever seen and remembered why she had loved this place so. The vastness of it all reduced her problems to less than a speck of dust on a freshly painted wall. At home her loneliness seemed to consume her, yet out here, where she could see the mountains meet the sky a hundred miles away, she felt at peace, one with her surroundings. Even if Shane had stayed behind this morning, she knew she would not have felt lonely here.
Shane reined in his horse and turned around, moving face-to-face beside her. “Warm enough?” His breath burst from his lips as he eyed her.
If she’d been cold before, the temperature inside her quilted parka rose by degrees with the feel of his breath on her cheeks. She watched his sure fingers untie the wool scarf at her neck. “What are you doing?”
His eyes met hers and lingered there before glancing down at her lips. She licked them involuntarily, then kicked herself mentally for doing so.
“Your skin’s not as weathered as mine. Frostbite’s nothing to fool with out here.” He started to turn the scarf around and knot it behind her head, but then he lowered it and gazed deep into her eyes, in that haunting way of his that left her feeling naked and without secrets. “Do you think we could call a truce while you’re here?” he asked finally.
“I didn’t know we were at war,” she snapped, seeing the disappointment in his eyes. He started to turn away but she grabbed his jacket and met his eyes evenly this time. “Okay. Truce?”
A slow smile reached his eyes and she felt a trickle of sweat trail down from between her breasts.
“Want to see Josh’s farmhouse? It’s about a fifteen-minute ride if we cut over the ridge.” He pointed east and she saw nothing but foothills and snow-laden pines.
“I’d love to,” she said. He moved closer and reached for her scarf, his eyes hesitating again on her lips. He shifted in his saddle and inched closer. Those slow hands she had always admired circled her and Jenny closed her eyes. Then she felt the tug of the knot at the back of her head and a moment later, his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath through the wool, he hesitated, then raised the scarf over her nose.
“There. That ought to do the trick.” There was a hint in his smile that said he knew what she was thinking, yet he didn’t give voice to his thoughts, but simply turned his horse and loped toward the ridge.
So much fur the kiss, she thought, and smiled hehind the cover of the scarf. He thought he was so clever. Huh! She’d seen it in his eyes. There was little doubt what was on his mind. And there was little doubt something would happen before long.
Jenny nudged her horse and followed Shane’s tracks, marveling at the beauty around her. Millions of tiny diamondlike flakes winked at the brilliant sun, keeping her company till she reached her destination. Once there, evergreens cast long ink-blot shadows, conjuring all sorts of images. She caught up to Shane and looked down at the stream below. A slow trickle was making its way over fallen timbers and shiny rocks of all sizes. She looked up and saw a puff of smoke coming from a fieldstone chimney a couple of miles away. It rose above an old farmhouse with a large covered front porch. A stake truck, parked alongside, was covered with a large gray tarp, a few two-by-fours jutting out the end.
“Is that Josh’s place?” Even from a distance it appeared warm and cozy, nestled among pines and bare-branched aspens that wound their way further up the foothills of the MoJoes, the majestic pair of mountains that overlooked Joeville, the area Shane’s great grandfather, Joe Malone, had laid claim to over a hundred years ago. For miles below there was level land and Jenny could already imagine fields of tall golden wheat waving in the wind as large combines cut a wide swath.
“Yep. It’s all Josh’s now. Used to be my great-grandparent’s place when they first moved west. Then Granddad built the ranch and this has been abandoned ever since. When Dad tripled our living quarters and added all the outbuildings, it didn’t look like anyone would ever live up here again.”
“I think it’s perfectly charming. I can see why Josh is so excited.”
“Yeah, well, wish we could say the same for Dad. He still holds fast to the old ways—that pure ranchers don’t farm. And now that Josh has taken up flying so he can crop dust when the time comes—” Shane repositioned his wide-brimmed bat and chuckled “—well, let’s just say there’s a little tension between Josh and Dad.”
Jenny laughed. “You’re a fine one to criticize Max for being set in his ways. When was the last time you changed?”
Shane sailed but his expression grew more serious. “What about you?”
Jenny stopped laughing. “What do you mean ‘What about me?’”
“Well, for example, why don’t you want to talk to Buck...learn more about those herbs you’re so interested in?”
She rolled her eyes. “Here we go again. Indians! Why do we always end up talking about Indians?”
His smile disappeared, his brown eyes turning nearly black. “Buck is one person, not a whole race. Besides, he’s like family to me. He’s a good and wise man who knows much about the things of the earth, who could teach—”
“Look, Shane—” She started to argue her point, but thought better of it. What difference did it make if he understood her attitude? She wasn’t going to change it, and that was that. “I promised Billy I’d help him build a snowman. Maybe we should head back.” She turned her horse away from him and avoided his eyes. She knew what she would see and feeling guilty was not on her agenda today.
Silently he turned and followed, eventually riding alongside her the rest of the way. The beauty she had witnessed on the way out was lost on her now, an inner turmoil dogging her every thought. She didn’t want to spar with Shane, but she could never share his love of Indians, either. Why couldn’t he try to understand and just let it go?
Three
As Hannah had promised, Wednesday was a busy day in the kitchen. In between serving the usual three meals, Jenny and Hannah prepared for tomorrow’s Thanksgiving dinner.
After supper Jenny covered her cranberry gelatin mold and found the last available space in the refrigerator, while Hannah wrestled with the thirty-pound turkey, finding another feather to pluck.
“There. Think I got ’em all. Ya sure we cain’t stuff it tonight? I always have, ya know.” Hannah reached for the large box of foil.
“I know a lot of people do, but it’s much safer to wait till just before we put it in the oven.” Jenny eyed the old woman who had had her way in this room for over forty years, surprised she was even considering a change.
“Well then...ya’ve proved ya know what yer doin’ since the first day ya set foot in here, Jenny Moon. So guess we jes wait till t’morrow.” She wrapped the big bird and shoved the box of foil in Jenny’s direction for the dressing.
Jenny smiled, enjoying the compliment Hannah had just paid her.
“So ya gonna stay here this time, young one? I sure did miss yer help. These old legs cain’t take much more of these long days.”
The casual conversation ended as subtly as a brick through the window. Hannah was now working her agenda. Jenny knew it would come sooner or later, but was surprised how soon. She remembered Max’s open invitation the last time she’d been here. There was no doubt she would be a welcome addition to the ranch. The work was actually easier and a lot less stressful than her catering job back home. And here she would be with Savannah and all the others she had come to care for. So why the hesitation? Only one word popped into her thoughts.
Shane.
Could she be around him for long and not get involved? Was she ready to trust him? Or any man, as far as that goes? A fling was one thing, but a commitment was quite another. Her mother had taught her well: men could not be trusted. In a flash she pictured Ryder with Savannah and the obvious love they shared Maybe, just maybe, some men were different....
“Whatcha daydreamin’ ’bout, girl? Didn’t ya hear my question?”
“Hannah, you don’t need me. Savannah’s a big heip and—”
“And she’s gonna have a youngin soon...who has ta come first, a course. Whatever time or energy she’s got left over will be spent changin’ beds and vacuumin’ for me. M‘back cain’t handle them jobs anymore. Besides, she loves doin’ Max’s paperwork in his clinic out back. That alone takes her hours nearly every day.” She picked up the bundled bird and headed for the extra refrigerator on the side porch.
Jenny grabbed the dressing and beat her to the door, opening it wide for Hannah to pass. When she did, she shot Jenny a what’s-holding-you-back kind of glance, laced heavily with a dose of guilt for even resisting the idea.
They found room for the food in the old refrigerator and rushed in from the unheated porch. Jenny hugged herself and tried avoiding Hannah’s glare, but soon the big woman stood squarely in front of her and folded her arms across her heavy chest.
“Well?”
Jenny took her time looking up, knowing full well the expression she would find on Hannah’s face. This was a woman used to getting her way. Finally Jenny met the old woman’s determined stare. “I’ll give it some serious thought, okay?” She hadn’t meant for annoyance to seep into her tone, but she knew it had.
“Well, maybe you’d think better by yerself.” Hannah untied her apron and hung it on the hook near the door. “Mind cleaning up? I’m all tuckered out.”
“No...not at all. Go on and rest.”
Hannah waved without turning back. “Thanks, girl. See ya in the mornin’.”
Except for wiping the counters and putting a few utensils in the dishwasher, there was little left to do. Jenny moved around quickly, eager to check on Savannah and Ryder’s progress with the outside decorations—anything to keep from mulling over Hannah’s proposition. It was way too soon for such a decision. A nagging inner voice said she was wrong, but she ignored it.
With the last counter wiped clean, Jenny hung up her apron and pushed through the swinging door to the dining room. The French doors at the far side leading to the living room were open wide, showcasing a roaring fire behind the large stone hearth, its warm glow illuminating the spacious yet cozy area. Jenny crossed to it and held her hands to the flames, her gaze fixed on the areas of blue dancing along the massive pile of logs. When her eyes began to sting, she stepped backward and glanced out the bay window to her left. An afghan lay atop a pile of seat cushions, inviting her closer. She walked over and settled in one corner, tucked her legs under her and pulled the cover over her lap to ward off the chill from the small frosty-cornered panes in front of her.
Beyond the window she watched the trio hanging lights on the most perfect evergreen she had ever seen. Ryder’s truck lights beamed on the lower half of the tree. Savannah sat on the front bumper and untangled long strands of multicolored lights, handing them gingerly to Ryder who stood on a tall ladder next to her. Jenny’s gaze drifted to the opposite side of the tree where Shane worked in the shadows. His hands were slow and deliberate as he tucked each light into snowy branches. Always his movements seemed evenly paced, unrushed and with a purpose. To look at him, it would seem he didn’t have a tense muscle in his body. There was a grace and calm about him she envied. Her life had always been a series of deadlines, forever rushed, no time for reflection.
The thought jarred her and she pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them tight. Had she intentionally pushed herself from one task to the next, intentionally leaving no time to analyze her motives, her anxieties, her fears? Fears? Where did that word come from? Even the thought of it made her shudder. Had she ever acknowledged that she was afraid of anything? Not that she could recall.
She shook her head as if it would vanquish the idea, then refocused on Shane’s face, wishing he was closer, that she could see his eyes.
No! It was too soon to think of this man. She closed her eyes to block out his image and immediately her mother came to mind. Poor Mom. All that anger and hate. She opened her eyes and looked to the heavens, hoping that was where Mom was, that she had found some peace at last, that somehow—
“I think my mama lives on that one over there.” Jenny turned with a start. Billy stood behind her, his finger pointing to an area in the north. She expelled a long breath and smiled at him, then followed the direction of his arm, trying to spot his special star.
“Sometimes when I’m watching it, it looks like it’s winking at me.” He knelt on the cushion next to her and pressed his nose to the glass. After a moment he leaned back on his heels and looked at Jenny.
“I’m sorry about your mama, Jenny. Savannah told me.”
Jenny reached out for him and tugged him closer, sharing the afghan with him. He snuggled easily under her arm and she could feel the warmth of his young body spread through her.
“Mama told me to picture her playing with the angels and that sometimes she’d even put on some wings. Do you ever think of your mama like that?”
Jenny rested her chin on his silky blond hair and thought about his simple question. No, she hadn’t. She never thought of her mother playing or smiling or laughing. The world may have frowned on Maddy’s chosen profession, but at least Billy’s mother seemed happy. “Our mamas were very different people, Billy,” she said finally.
He turned his face up to Jenny, his eyes round with curiosity. “How?”
Jenny sighed and struggled to simplify her answer. “My mama was unhappy, Billy.”
“Why?”
She stared out the window, no longer seeing anyone. She wasn’t in the mood to answer that question, but then she never was. Billy was staring at her, waiting, his eyes filled with concern. She swallowed hard, then began. “M-my father left us before I was born.”
“So did mine,” he said, a frown creasing his forehead. “But mama always seemed happy. She said we were so lucky to have each other.”
