Accidental Cowgirl (11 page)

“Kyla, honey, will you give me a hand with these dishes?” Ma looked Kyla’s way as everyone got to their feet around the fire. The pancakes had been surprisingly good, though exceptionally hard not to burn.

Hayley chortled softly. “Dish duty for the girl who wasn’t paying attention. We’ll see you back at the cabin.”

Ma gathered a pile of dishes into a plastic basket and motioned toward the main house. “Obviously next week you’ll be cleaning these up outside, but when there’s a sink full of hot running water within my view, I’m gonna use it.”

“That sounds very practical.” Kyla laughed. “I imagine there will be enough roughing it going on next week.”

They reached the house and headed into the kitchen, where Ma piled the dishes next to a big white farmhouse sink. Kyla sighed as she looked around the enormous space. The room was painted a pale yellow, with blue gingham curtains at the three windows. A light oak table sat in a breakfast nook, with fresh daisies in a blue vase. The stainless steel appliances and huge stove were the only giveaways that this was a commercially functional space. The counters were spotless, but it smelled like Ma had just pulled out a batch of sugar cookies.

“It smells so good in here. Did you bake this morning?”

Ma smiled slyly as she filled the sink with soapy water. “Can’t say as I did.”

“Well, it sure smells like it.”

“That would be the candle over on the stove. Old B&B trick I read about when I was getting ready to open the ranch to guests.” Ma handed Kyla a dish towel, then started washing the dishes they’d used outside. “So, honey, I’m not real good at being graceful about these things, but I wanted to ask you about yesterday.”

Oh, no
. “Um, what about yesterday?”

Ma looked out the window toward the stables and fire ring. “Well, I was standing here yesterday when Jimmy and Pete pulled their little shenanigans.”

“Oh.” Which meant she’d also seen Kyla’s panic attack. Kyla dried the plate in her
hands, keeping her eyes down. Was this conversation going to end with some version of
We’re sorry, but we’re concerned that you’re too unstable to continue with this venture
? “I’m sorry. Really. It was just a little graphic for my tender tummy, I guess.”

Ma paused, looking her directly in the eye. “Kyla, honey, I’ve seen a lot of tender tummies, and I have to be honest with you. It looked like more than that to me. Maybe it wasn’t, and I don’t want to pry, but I do want to make sure you’re okay.”

Kyla sighed, running the dish towel over a plate. “I’m okay. I am. I’m sorry if I worried anyone. Really, I’m fine.”
Riiight
. Kyla stacked the plate, avoiding Ma’s eyes.

“Hmm.” Ma clattered a pile of bowls into the water and swished the sponge around. She was silent as she washed and rinsed, looking only from the sink to the drain board. Kyla frowned. Gramma had used the same technique to get her to talk. Silence was a powerful conversation starter.

Kyla watched Ma wash and rinse eight bowls before she broke down. In a soft voice, she said, “It was a little more than a tender tummy, you’re right.”

Ma’s sponge stopped moving as she turned toward Kyla. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Kyla wrung her dish towel nervously. “Maybe?”

Ma put a soapy finger under Kyla’s chin, nudging it upward until their eyes met. “Oh, honey.” She dried her hands on a gingham towel and motioned toward the sunny breakfast nook, reaching behind her for the teapot. Moments later, Kyla had her hands wrapped around a stoneware mug, breathing in steamy cinnamon tea. Ma picked up her own mug and sipped. “So what happened?”

Kyla blew out a breath. Did she want to talk about it? Ma made her feel like she’d wrap her up in a cinnamon-scented quilt and tell her everything was going to be okay. On the other hand, Ma might think she was a complete basket case who shouldn’t be anywhere near her ranch … or her son. No way was she going to tell her about Wes and the trial. Maybe just the accident, as that would help explain her panic attack.

She put her mug down. “I was in a car accident a year ago. A, um, a really bad one.”

Ma put her tea down and reached her hand out to cover Kyla’s. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.”

“I … I had a head injury, so I don’t actually remember the accident. But some part of my brain obviously must, because Jimmy and Pete’s little exercise yesterday triggered, well …”

“An anxiety attack?” Ma guessed, biting her lower lip.

Kyla nodded miserably. “Funny thing about those. They tend to start just about the time your physical injuries start getting better.”

Ma rubbed her thumb over Kyla’s wrist, eyes misting. “Feel kind of like you’re in the ocean, trying to walk to shore, but the undertow’s too strong?”

Kyla looked up at Ma’s eyes and whispered, “That’s exactly right.”

Ma nodded. She looked lost in memories for a few moments, then squeezed Kyla’s hand. “It’s gonna get better, honey. It doesn’t feel like it some days, but it will.”

“I know, Ma. I know.” Kyla sighed. “It’s just taking an awful lot longer than I expected, that’s all. It’s frustrating.”

“Are you getting help with it back home?” Ma shook her head and made an erasing motion with her hand. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”

“It’s okay. And yes, I am. When this hit, it scared the daylights out of me.”

“Think you were losing your mind?”

Yeah, that would be putting it mildly
. “A few times, yes.”

“Well, honey, I think you’ll find this Big Sky air is pretty powerful medicine. Horses, too, actually.” Ma pushed up from the table and came around behind Kyla to put her warm hands on her shoulders. “You take all the time you need here, honey. You’ll feel better here. All of you.”

“Thank you, Ma.”

“I’m gonna send you girls on some nice hikes while you’re here. God didn’t make any prettier land than Whisper Creek, that’s for sure. It’s healing country.”

Kyla smiled. “I believe it. I really do.”

“I know you do, honey.” Ma grinned as she gave Kyla a bear hug. “Now if I could just convince my son to believe it, too.”

* * *

“Got the items for the fifth drop, Deck?”

“Right here.” Decker pulled a pouch from his saddlebag. “Where should we put them?”

Cole pointed to a tall pine. “That bag’s got food in it, right? We’ll have to hang it.”
Decker urged his horse closer to the tree and started fastening the pouch strings to a branch. “Um, Decker, they’ll be on foot, not on horseback.”

“Good point.” Decker slid down from Chance, boots landing silently on the blanket of pine needles. He tied the pouch to a lower branch, scuffling the pine needles to draw an arrow pointing to the tree. “How far out do we want to go with this scavenger hunt today? Ma said we made it too easy last time.”

Cole looked up at the sky. “Well, the weather report sounds fine for the rest of the day, so I think we can push them out a couple of miles.”

“A couple of miles? You sure?” Decker peered through the trees toward the Rockies, scanning the horizon for any sign of impending rain. Not one little cloud decorated the deep blue sky, so he had to agree with Cole, though he wasn’t sure all seven of their guests were up for a four-mile-round-trip hunt.

“Think of it as conditioning. Can’t take all these soft city kids out on the trail without a little preparation, right?”

“I guess so. But I don’t want to get any of them out farther than we’re willing to go to rescue them.” Decker nudged Chance with his heels to follow. “Why did we let Ma talk us into adding this orienteering exercise to the schedule, again?”

“She said Day Four was boring. She wanted to add some excitement.”

“She knows we actually use GPS on the trail, right?”

“Of course she does. But compass skills are vital for survival. Compasses don’t need batteries, after all.”

“Christ. You sound just like her. All right. Let’s head east a few ticks and put the Tshirts in the cave.”

“You sure nobody’s using it this year?”

“Well, if somebody is, I imagine we’ll find out soon enough. The cubs will be poking around the entrance.”

An hour later, they were looking for a good spot for the tenth items. Cole got off his horse to hang the bag of chocolate in a pine tree. “There. Mark the coordinates. No way anyone can get lost this time.”

Decker shook his head. “I still can’t believe those Jersey girls ended up clear over on Jackson’s property. I swear. I mean, I know orienteering’s not a skill people use every day. But
those are big friggin’ mountains over there. How do you get so turned around you don’t even recognize
them
on a map?”

Cole laughed. “How much you wanna bet Cheryl and Theresa will find a way to need help from us?”

“That’s a sucker bet. Not taking it.”

“Think the Boston ladies can find their way without subways or street signs?” Cole rolled his eyes as he pulled alongside Decker. The horses picked their way up a grassy hillside dotted with yellow wildflowers. “So I saw Marcy yesterday. She back for a visit? Or to stay?”

Decker shook his head in disgust. “Sounds like she’s back, though she wasn’t big on details. Not that I’d expect them.” Decker pulled up on the reins just as they came over a rise that gave them a full view of the ranch below. “She’s spinning a tale about her new horse that needs training, and about how I’m just the best horse trainer she knows, and could I please, please consider it? For the horse’s sake, not hers, of course. She’ll pay me double the going rate. And make me dinner afterward, even.”

“Gosh, Deck. How can you resist?” Cole shook his head. “Does the woman have no pride at all?”

“Apparently not. Guess her little foray in the big city didn’t work out so well.”

“Did her big-time director find another aspiring actress more to his liking?”

“Probably. And now she’s back to see if I’ve been waiting for her all this time.”

“Because you’re definitely the kind of guy who’d be twiddling your thumbs waiting for someone to come back. Got it.”

Decker looked sidelong at Cole. “She, if anyone, knows I’m not that kind of guy.”

“So please tell me she won’t be arriving with her horse anytime soon.”

Decker leveled him with a disgusted look. “I said no. Last thing I need is a woman thinking she’s got a future with me. And Marcy only sees one with me because no one else has turned up. I have no interest in going there with her again. Or anyone, for that matter.”

He’d met Marcy eight months ago when he’d blown through town on a three-day visit. Cole had dragged him to a Christmas party, and there she’d been, complete with her entourage. At the time he’d been hungry for home, hungry for family, and, as hard as it was to admit it, he’d been taken in by Marcy’s act. She’d come on strong but sweet, and by the end of the three days, she’d booked a ticket to come to L.A. two weeks later to see him.

A month after that trip, she’d showed up at his town house with two suitcases and an open return ticket. Within three days she was bored silly and annoyed that Decker couldn’t take a couple weeks off to go play wine-country tourist with her. She’d headed to Beverly Hills to visit a sorority sister on a Friday, met a New York theater director named Gil on Saturday, and was packed and on a plane with him on Sunday.

What Decker still marveled at was that instead of anger or sadness or any other appropriate emotion he might have felt at the time, when Marcy had packed her bags, his overwhelming sense had been relief.

“You really aren’t dating anyone out in L.A.?” Cole jolted his thoughts.

“Why do you find this so hard to believe?”

“I don’t know. You live in the land where nine out of ten girls could be on magazine covers. Is it truly that hard to find a date?”

“It’s more like six out of ten, but that’s beside the point. No, it’s not hard at all. It’s actually frighteningly easy, especially with the right firm and the right address. But it gets old.”

Cole shook his head, laughing. “I’m sorry, but I’m having trouble figuring out how that could get old.”

Decker sighed. “Even for you, Cole, it could get old. It’s hard to explain.” He shaded his eyes as he looked down the valley toward the ranch. “When you’re out there, it sort of feels like … like no one actually grows up in L.A. No one’s looking to raise a family there. Everybody’s just there waiting for something bigger to happen. And when you’re not the biggest thing, off they go.”

“So what is it you
do
love out there, Decker?”

“Don’t start.” Decker was so tired of feeling defensive. So tired of making his L.A. life sound so glamorous, like he was
fine
, like he didn’t need family, like he didn’t need the ranch, like he didn’t want to be here where the skies never ended and the mountains reared toward them in majestic, frightening beauty.

Fact was, when he wasn’t at work, he was pretty much alone, the stereotypical single guy with a TV dinner and beer in front of the flat screen. He’d specialized in nostrings-attached relationships for years, and once a woman tried to move in a toothbrush, it was
sayonara
.

A year or so ago, he’d tired of the whole casual
thing
that defined L.A. All he’d really wanted was to move home and be part of a family again, but his dad had made sure Decker knew
he wasn’t welcome. Not a year ago, not ten years ago … not ever.

“I’m really not starting. Just trying to understand. I know you’ve built a really good company, have important clients and all that, but don’t you ever miss it here?”

Was he
kidding
? Only every friggin’ day since his dad had sent him packing. “I wasn’t really given a choice.”

Cole furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

Decker looked at him, frozen. Was it possible that Cole didn’t
know
? Had he been under a ten-year delusion that Decker’d left of his own accord? “Cole—”

“Shh.” Cole pointed toward a stand of pines to their right. “Moose. Two o’clock.”

“So what’s the first thing we have to find?” Kyla asked as they hitched the front clips of their backpacks the next morning.