A Father's Stake (12 page)

“Lilly got tired of talking to her through the stall door, and Parrish had an idea. Instead of Lilly hanging out at the stables until you got back from your ride, we all went on a walk, and Lilly is very, very happy and excited.”

“And she’s not riding Mosi?”

“No, no, we’re leading her, walking her behind us. Parrish said it’s a good way for Lilly and the horse to get to know each other. You know, bond.” Grace could hear Parrish in the background. “Parrish says we’ll be another hour or two, if that’s okay? I need a breather before we start the trek back.”

“That’s fine,” she said, relief leaving her weak in the legs. Then she had a thought. “What about snakes? Have you all got on good footwear?”

“Yes, we’re properly shod,” Gabriella said. “And we all have sticks with us.”

She had no idea how sticks would help in a snake encounter, and maybe she didn’t want to know. “See you in a while.”

After hanging up, she started the tub and stripped out of her dusty clothes. But even after a hot bath, she couldn’t get past the lingering guilt of her comment to Jack. After she’d dried and dressed in shorts and a blue tank top, she padded barefoot into the bedroom and started to put away some odds and ends. When she opened the bottom drawer in her dresser, she expected it to be empty.

Instead she found a cardboard box, maybe twelve inches square, an old shoe lace tied around it. She stared at her name,
Grace Anne,
printed on it in faded ink.

She didn’t know how long she stood there just staring at the box in the drawer. Finally, she crouched down and touched it, then picked it up, and sat on the floor cross-legged. Shock had started to give way to something akin to sadness. Her dad must have put it there. That meant he’d come to the ranch at least once.

With shaking hands, she tugged on the shoe lace and opened the lid. An old photo album lay inside, innocuous enough, but almost paralyzing Grace. She had to force herself to take it out. But even when the album lay on her crossed legs, she couldn’t make herself open it.

“Silly,” she muttered to herself. If she hadn’t been meant to find it, it wouldn’t be here. It was that simple. But nothing was simple as she finally made herself lift the cover and open the book. She was startled to see that the pictures carefully secured to the first few pages were of her as a baby, some with her mother, two of her alone.

She’d seen the photos before. They were copies of pictures her mother had. But from the fourth page on, the photos were new to her. They were obviously taken from a distance, the first one a shot of her starting school, then a photo for each year until the fourth grade. The next one was of her junior high school graduation. Then a leap to her high school graduation. Two months later, a shot of her going into the restaurant where she got her first waitressing job near L.A.’s Civic Center.

She turned the page, almost thankful to find the rest of the book empty. She flipped through the photos again, then closed the book and reached for the box to put it away. But she knew the surprises weren’t over when she spotted a couple of loose photos lying in the bottom of the box.

Her heart tightened to almost breaking when she picked them up. The first one was of her holding a year-old Lilly on her lap on a park bench while her mother offered the baby a rattle. When she looked at the second picture, she started to shake. She’d never seen the photo before. She was a toddler, maybe two or three years old, held high in her father’s arms. As soon as she saw him in the picture, she remembered the wiry man who always wore jeans and T-shirts. A baseball cap was pulled low and shadowed his face, but the smile on his lips was clear.

The photo dropped from her fingers and fluttered to the floor. Tears overtook her so suddenly and fiercely that she couldn’t get her breath. Her father had left, and turned his back on everything he should have loved beyond reason, yet he hadn’t lost track of her all these years. He’d been watching her—or had someone else watch her from a distance. Yet, even now, he hadn’t made a move to contact her personally.

When she heard her mother’s voice calling Lilly to come inside, Grace moved quickly, swiping at her eyes and fumbling to hide the album and pictures. She barely had them in the box when she heard the front door shut, and a child’s footsteps coming in her direction. She pushed the box under the bed, got to her feet and grabbed a tissue from the nightstand. Quickly, she blew her nose, then the door to her bedroom burst open and Lilly flew in.

“Mama, Mama, Mama,” she cried, running to Grace and almost knocking her over with a hug. “We went horse-walking and saw a lizard!”

She drew back and grabbed Grace’s hand. “Come on. Come see Mosi. She’s real happy.”

Grace’s mother was there, in the doorway, frowning over Lilly’s head as she studied Grace. “Problems?” she asked, not coming any closer.

“Just allergies,” she said, blowing her nose again.

“Oh, sure,” her mother said, but made it clear by her tone that she didn’t believe her for one second.

Lilly was tugging hard on her hand, impatient to get back out to the horse. “Mama, please!”

“Okay,” Grace said. “Just a peek, then we need to get some food on the table.”

Gabriella moved back into the hallway. “I’ll get that started, and you go and visit Mosi with Lilly.”

“Okay,” Grace said. She went back in her room and grabbed her camera, then headed down to the stables with Lilly.

Grace had never been one to take pictures of everyday life, but now she wanted shots of Lilly with the horse, with the cat, with Parrish. Maybe she could take pictures on her perimeter rides with Jack. She wanted to record these memories—for Lilly and herself, forever.

* * *

T
HAT
EVENING
,
SLEEP
didn’t come easily for Grace, not after showing her mother the box of photos after Lilly was in bed. It had been hard on both women.

She’d put the box back in the dresser, and walked away from it. She’d look at it again, but not for some time. In bed, she couldn’t relax, partly because her mind refused to stop racing, and partly because her bottom hurt.

She wasn’t sure she could make it through another ride, but she wanted so much to see the rest of the ranch. She imagined Jack having to carry her into the house after a second day on the horse. And her last thought before she finally fell asleep was that being carried in Jack’s arms wouldn’t be so bad, not at all.

CHAPTER TWELVE

W
HEN
G
RACE
WOKE
at dawn, she tiptoed down the hallway, grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, and went back to the bathroom to get dressed. She closed the door, took off the oversize T-shirt she slept in, and then turned to the sink. In the mirror that fronted the medicine cabinet, she looked at herself. She could see the redness of sunburn on her nose, chin and forehead, her skin exposed after she’d lost the hat. She’d have to try and get another one soon.

She found the sunscreen and applied it liberally, changed into her jeans, a short-sleeved shirt and boots.

Two hours later, Lilly was on the small bus on her way to school. Grace stood on the front porch and saw Jack riding up the driveway. She had her camera hanging around her neck.

He lifted a hand in greeting, and Grace went down to the stables to meet him. She decided not to speak until she reached him. She wanted to gauge his mood, see if things were still a bit off between them because of her thoughtless words.

But Jack seemed relaxed as she approached. “I didn’t know how to saddle Lucy or I would have tried,” she explained.

“Wait a minute,” he said, touching her shoulder as she turned into the stables.

The sun was at his back, and she had to squint to see him. “What’s wrong?” she asked, certain he was going to beg off.

“Me,” he said, and she noticed he looked tired. Fine lines that hadn’t been there yesterday bracketed his eyes and mouth. “If you aren’t feeling good, we don’t have to go today,” she said.

“It’s not that.” He gave a heavy sigh. “I want to apologize to you.”

That stopped her dead. “What for?”

“I should never have said what I did about your child yesterday.”

She didn’t know what to say. He was apologizing to her when she knew it should be the other way around. “You beat me to it,” she said.

“To what?”

“Apologizing. I sounded so....” She shrugged, not about to bring up the fact he didn’t have kids again. “I’m just sorry I overreacted. Everything was fine with Lilly. They were out walking the horse.”

“That’s good to hear,” he said. “Can we just figure this is a wash between us?”

“Yes, please,” she agreed.

He stared at her for a moment, then touched her shoulder again. “Let’s get Lucy ready.”

Grace watched Jack carefully as he dressed out Lucy, and thought she might be able to do it herself with a little instruction. Jack moved so easily, cinching and adjusting the saddle and finally throwing it onto Lucy’s back. He did up the buckles, smoothed the saddle blanket, and checked the foot holders. Stirrups, that’s what they were called.

He turned to her. “Done.” He narrowed his eyes and studied her for a long moment. “How are you feeling today? Sore muscles?”

Was it that obvious? “Okay, and yes, I am sore.” She didn’t mention how much her bottom hurt when she sat down. “Don’t they have softer saddles?”

He chuckled. “That is a soft saddle.”

“Oh,” was all she said before she took Lucy’s reins from him and walked the horse out.

Before she could figure out how to ask Jack to give her a boost up again, he was behind her, his hands on her waist, then she was being lifted. She sank onto the saddle, got her feet positioned, and looked down at Jack. “I promise, I’ll do that myself pretty soon.”

A smile shadowed his lips, just enough to hint at his dimple. “When you grow a foot or so?”

“Low blow,” she countered with her own smile. “And I do mean low.”

He laughed, then after making sure she had her reins in hand, he nudged his horse. “Here we go,” he said, and they set off toward the east.

* * *

A
COUPLE
OF
DAYS
HAD
PASSED
, and Jack and Grace were starting out for their last perimeter ride of the morning. Grace’s horse matched Gizmo’s pace, Jack looked so relaxed in the saddle she smiled to herself. It felt good to be out here with Jack. To have him tell her stories about the land, about the people. They’d gone past the entry to the Rez the day before, but hadn’t crossed into that land. Then they’d headed down and met a rancher whose land was directly across from the old ranch.

They hadn’t talked about Jack wanting to buy the ranch and Grace was grateful for that. She hoped it would be the same today.

* * *

J
ACK
RODE
IN
SILENCE
, fully aware of Grace behind him. He’d been awake a long time the last few nights, and when he finally slept, his rest was fitful and anything but refreshing. He’d finally given up trying to sleep in the loft last night, and had gone down to his office and stretched out on the couch there. But even when he got to sleep, he felt edgy. Images of Grace mingled painfully with fading images of Robyn.

He hated that. He never wanted to forget Robyn. But in the past few weeks, it had been harder and harder to remember things clearly. The impressions were there, but they were blurred, without their usual brilliance. Smiles floated just out of reach. The ache of losing her was less acute. Yet he desperately didn’t want to feel as if she was gone completely from him. Ever.

He’d finally given up sleeping an hour before dawn. On impulse, he’d dressed quickly and driven to the cemetery set back on a hill on the north side of town. He found Robyn’s marker easily. He’d been there so often in the past, but recently his visits had stretched out. The flowers he’d placed there were almost dead. He tossed them to one side, and hated the fact that he hadn’t thought to bring any fresh ones.

He stood looking down at the headstone.

Robyn Mays Carson

always in our hearts

A sculpted image of a single daisy had been fashioned at the bottom of the monument. Her favorite flower. He sat near her grave for a long time, watching the sun spreading its colors on the eastern horizon. So many times he’d gone there to experience the connection they’d always had, but today it was harder to find. He felt a painful tug in his heart. No one had told him about the fading of memories.

“I will always love you,” he’d whispered, then walked away, feeling as if he’d been leaving a part of himself in that silent place.

Now he was looking toward the east again, with Grace so close he could hear the soft release of air when her horse shifted or jerked. “We won’t climb today,” he said over his shoulder.

“Good to know,” she said.

He slowed, waited for her to get beside him. The new hat she’d bought protected her face and part of her shoulders with its broad straw brim. “How’re the sore muscles?” he asked.

She shifted in the saddle a bit awkwardly and he knew she was still having a problem finding her rhythm. “Do you want to walk for a while? You’ve got your boots, and it’s pretty level the way we’re going.”

She got herself down almost before the words were out of his mouth. “Yes, walking would be nice,” she said.

He barely suppressed a smile. “Good. I’d like to walk.” He looked around, spotted one of the windmills on the pasture land and led his horse toward it, Grace and Lucy following. “Let’s tie them here, and we can come back in a while to get them.”

“That sounds fine,” she said.

He came to her, a foot of space separating them. “We’ll take it easy.”

“Thank you for being merciful,” she said with a smile that he found he looked forward to when he was around her.

“You’re doing better riding, you know,” he said as they started off across the dried grasses.

“Thank you. I feel like I’m making progress. It’s just I’m so out of my element around here, sometimes. I don’t think I’ve ever been an animal person, but now I’m riding a horse, and there’s Mosi and the cat in the stables. I’m just glad I haven’t seen any other creatures...like snakes.”

They stopped and he found himself laughing softly at her. “What?” she asked.

He impulsively touched her chin with the tip of his forefinger. “You and snakes. You got the boots and I saw Lilly and your mom both have boots. You’re doing just fine.” He felt a wobble in her chin, and drew back. “That sounded patronizing, didn’t it?”

Her lavender eyes met his. “A bit.”

“Sorry again,” he said, taking off his cap to rake his fingers through his hair. He tugged his hat back on and exhaled. “It’s my family’s fault.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“You know, two brothers, and a ton of cousins all around this area, you get used to teasing and poking fun at each other, because they’ll do it to you at the drop of a hat. And take your hat, too.”

She laughed, thankfully, and so did he. Laughing felt so good for a change. “That’s filed under acquired life knowledge.”

“Oh, so that’s the title they give it, not...surviving your crazy relatives?”

“It’s probably a tossup,” she said.

He looked ahead of them and changed plan midstream. “Tell you what, instead of going to the lower eastern pastures, would you mind if we headed higher again. I promise it won’t be too far up and we won’t go near any ledges.”

“What for?” she asked, the smile gone.

“Do you want to know where the name Wolf Lake came from?”

She cocked her head, the rising sun shooting her hair with a halo of gold, and he literally felt his breath catch in his chest. “I wondered why it’s called Wolf Lake and not Wolf Desert or Wolf Butte or Wolf whatever.”

“We aren’t exactly surrounded by water, are we?”

“I noticed,” she said with a soft lift of her lips.

He looked away for a moment, then back at her again. “I’d like to take you to the lake, today, since it’s our last ride and all.”

“I’d love to see the lake,” she said eagerly. Then a thought occurred to her. “Is this a joke?”

“No, it’s not. We really do have a Wolf Lake.”

“Okay,” she said.

They turned and retraced their steps back to the horses.

Without thinking about it, he caught Grace around the waist and lifted her into the saddle. “I think I need a stool or something,” she said, settling herself.

“Good idea.” He wasn’t about to mention how the feel of her in his hands was both pleasurable and unsettling for him.

They headed east, then cut sharply north and started to climb, zigzagging back and forth on well worn trails.

“We’re going the back way so we stay away from any drop-offs,” he said over his shoulder. “Just give your horse her head and she’ll be good for you.”

“Thank you.”

They rode until he knew they couldn’t go any farther on the horses. “We’ll leave the horses here,” he said, getting off and tying the reins to a gnarled tree near the rocks.

“Okay,” Grace said, sliding down by herself, then handing him the reins. “Now, where’s the lake?”

He pointed up. “Just a bit farther, but we need to do it on foot.”

The narrow trail wound back to the west, then finally leveled out into an area about half a mile across and a mile deep, enclosed on three sides by slick stone walls that flowed up and into the mountains. A generous grassy section led to the ledge. He carefully steered Grace away from the direction of the open side, and made sure she was looking at the browned grasses that ran over the floor of the space. He motioned to her, out in front of them. “Wolf Lake,” he announced.

She almost snorted. “Oh, come on, you said it wasn’t a joke.”

“It’s not,” he said, walking farther into an area of long grass that moved slightly in the mild breeze.

“No, no, no, you said there was a lake, period.”

“No, I didn’t. I said it’s not a joke, and this is Wolf Lake.”

She shook her head. “Sure, okay.”

“No, really, when the moon is full, it causes an optical illusion that forms an odd shadow from the peaks above. It spreads across the grass and turns it dark, and when the moon creeps up over the mountains, it shines on the grass. If there’s a wind, the shadow looks like dark, shimmering water. It’s an optical illusion, and it only happens at a full moon. Even then it doesn’t always work. Maybe six times a year it’s perfect.”

She exhaled heavily. “Why didn’t you say it was just a trick of the eye?”

“Would you have come if I’d told you that?”

“Probably not,” she admitted, but didn’t turn to leave. She walked into the clearing, the crunch of dry grass under her booted feet. “I guess it could look like water if you narrowed your eyes and the moon was right, and the sky was dark, and...etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.”

“You’re being sarcastic, but it actually does look like a lake. I was up here a lot as a kid.”

“At night?”

“That’s the only time you can see it, around midnight, when the full moon clears the mountains.”

She turned to him. “Let me guess, you used that line on girls when you were a teenager, didn’t you. ‘Come with me to see the secret lake?’ and they fell for it, didn’t they?”

She had him there. Again, he was glad he didn’t blush. “Okay, I did, a couple of times.” A powerful memory rose up in him. Robyn and him coming up here before he left for college. Sitting side by side, talking about their future, the one they dreamed they’d have. The house, the kids, each other.

He turned quickly, not sure what to do, and headed toward an opening in the west side of the rocky walls. He heard Grace coming after him, but he didn’t look back. He stepped through the low opening onto a secondary ledge that overlooked part of the valley to the west. He crossed to the edge to stare out into the distance, knowing Grace wouldn’t follow.

But she did. He could feel her presence, until, at last, her arm brushed his. “I thought you’d rather jump than be on a cliff like this?” he said without looking at her.

That made her chuckle. “I never said I’d jump.”

“You said that heights bothered you.”

“They do, but I can handle it as long as I look into the distance and not down.”

“My brothers snuck out of the house when they were maybe ten and twelve and came up here after a rain. They ended up hanging from an outcropping about ten feet below here.”

She gasped. “They fell?”

“No, they were climbing the face. It had rained and it was slick and they were idiots.”