Sage Creek (31 page)

Ivy stared at her, not saying anything.

“I had this accident, honey. A real bad one. First time in my life—I was performing in this rodeo in Fort Worth—owned by this man named Harlan Cooper. And a horse threw me, and my leg got broke, and my back was messed up real bad. I couldn’t walk for a long time, months and months. I went through physical therapy and rehab . . . it was awful, baby, but Harlan paid for everything and I learned to walk again. And you know what? I got kinda used to staying in one place and it . . . it wasn’t so bad. Harlan took real good care of me, until he dumped me for that scheming little buzzard Billie Jean Maple.”

Ivy was silent. Her stomach felt awful, like someone was pinching it all over. She shifted from one foot to the other, suddenly thinking how empty the bakery felt with only her and her mom there. It didn’t seem right to be here without Sophie.

“Billie Jean didn’t know a thing about riding or performing,” Lynelle went on, “but she knew how to do Harlan’s books. I think he just got tired of paying someone to do them, you know? Anyway, he married Billie Jean, and she couldn’t stand having me around, so I hightailed it out of there soon as I could. But the thing is, I got to thinking. I miss you and I want to be a mama to you again. So since I got better, I’ve been waitressing, bartending, you name it—just to get enough money to come here and start over. I didn’t figure this was the kind of thing we could plan on the phone. You know? So here I am.”

She smiled, an eager, uncertain smile. “So how about it, baby girl? Tell me you’ll come live with me at Aunt Brenda’s. Just for a while, until I can save enough for our own place. Don’t you want to give us another chance?”

Ivy felt a ripple of panic. Leave her dad? And Sage Ranch . . . Starbucks . . . her
horses
? Like Mom had left Misty Mae? She didn’t want to leave them, or her room, her friends, Sophie. . . .

“I . . . can’t. I have school,” she said quickly.

“Well, that’s no problem. You could transfer, couldn’t you? People do it all the time. For a semester, maybe two. Think, honey, we could spend so much time together. We could even share a room at Aunt Brenda’s. And then, if you want to transfer back to your school in Lonesome Way after Christmas or maybe in the spring, you could. But think of all the fun we’d have living together. We’ll be best friends. I want that, Ivy, I want that so much. We have so much time to make up for.”

But that’s not my fault,
Ivy thought, her stomach dropping at the pleading hopefulness in her mom’s eyes. She couldn’t seem to stop the flow of questions circling through her head.

How long do you want to be best friends, Mom? Until you’re ready to take off again? Until you’re tired of Forks Peak? Of me?
She felt guilty for thinking that way, but she knew the scared voice inside her head had a point.

“You said I’d understand.” Ivy swallowed. “But I . . . I don’t.”

“What don’t you understand, baby?”

Ivy’s hands were clenched. She’d thought she’d be happy once she actually saw her mom again. Instead she felt like she was going to cry. But no. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t let herself. No matter how many times her mom called her baby, she wasn’t a baby anymore.

“You left me on a
bench
, Mom.” She hated that her voice trembled, but she couldn’t help it and plugged resolutely on. “You left me all
alone
.
I don’t understand.
”

Lynelle stepped back. Her mouth opened and then closed. Like a fish, Ivy thought. Then she snapped her lips together for a moment.

“Well, that’s just crazy, honey. You weren’t all alone. Not exactly.” She shook her head, and her long blond hair swirled. “You were in the middle of
town
, for Pete’s sake. There’s lots of people in Lonesome Way, and everyone takes care of everyone else. That’s how these small towns work. I knew you’d be fine. I mean, people here don’t even lock their doors, do they? Look how whoever owns this bakery left it unlocked while everyone’s at the high school. It’s the way small towns work. I knew that. So I knew someone would find you soon and your dad would come for you and—”

“I was scared, Mom!” The words flew from her, sounding high-pitched, foreign, as strange as the squawk of a startled wild bird. They might have come from some creature Ivy didn’t even know. “I was so scared! Don’t you even care?”

“Baby . . . honey . . . there’s no reason to cry now. It was a long time ago. You’re
fine.
I knew you’d be fine.” Tears filled her mother’s lake blue eyes. “I knew your father would take care of you and I had to—”

Lynelle broke off as behind them the bell tinkled over the door. Ivy whirled. And there was her father, tall, strong, handsome, running across the bakery toward her, looking a hundred times more tense and worried than he had even this morning when he found out Shiloh was sick.

Anguish clutched at her heart. She’d done this to him. Scared him, hurt him. Would he ever be able to forgive her? she thought, a sob rising in her throat.

Then she knew the answer as relief flooded his face. He drew a deep breath right inside the kitchen doorway and managed to smile at her as Sophie rushed in right behind him. She was pale, but she smiled too, an encouraging smile that said,
It’s okay, you’re not in trouble, we’re just happy we found you.

Ivy tried to choke back her tears. They seemed stuck on her eyelashes. She couldn’t even speak. There were too many feelings welling up inside her, and they were all tangled up, rushing to get out.

When the sobs finally burst from her, they were hard and painful and wracked her throat.

“D-Dad!” It was the only word she could force out.

The next thing she knew, she had flung herself into his arms and he was kneeling beside her, gathering her tight against him. As she buried her face in his shoulder, she felt his strong arms tighten around her, and finally, finally, with her eyes closed hard against his shirt, she let the tears fall.

Chapter Twenty-seven

The first snowfall of the season blew in with a flurry of clouds a week later.

It was a fluffy, luxuriant snow, distinguished by flakes as thick as feathers. They dusted the foothills and coated the back roads and carried with them a fierce wind rushing straight down from the mountains to usher in the first icy taste of the long Montana winter.

Sophie and Ivy and Rafe ate grilled cheese sandwiches on sourdough rye and drank hot chocolate at the kitchen table at Sage Ranch on that Sunday afternoon. They were waiting for Shannon and Kate Gordon to pick up Ivy. The girls were going to the library to do homework together—according to Ivy, she had a
landslide
of homework.

“Calm down, you two,” Sophie admonished in amusement as a horn tooted in the driveway and Tidbit and Starbucks went nuts, barking in frantic tandem. Of course, both dogs ignored her, continuing their racket even after Ivy raced outside in her parka and scarf and bundled into Kate Gordon’s Explorer. They barked like maniacs until the SUV disappeared from view. Then as calmly as if nothing had happened, they trotted over to the warmest corner of the kitchen, curled up together, and went to sleep.

“Now
they’ve
got the right idea.” Rafe came up behind Sophie, wrapped his arms around her waist, and dropped a kiss to the back of her neck. “Proving dogs are a lot smarter than most people think.”

Grinning, he led her into the living room, tugged her down onto the sofa with him, and pulled her close. She laughed and wiggled closer. They stretched out like spoons in front of the fire while snowflakes kissed the windowpanes.

Listening to the snap of the logs, watching the flames dance hypnotically before them, Sophie thought:
Now. Tell him now.

She hadn’t found the right time to tell him about the baby since the day of the fund-raiser—at least that’s what she’d tried to convince herself. Deep down she’d been delaying sharing the news as long as possible. For one thing, he’d been plenty busy sorting everything out between Lynelle and Ivy. For another, she knew in her heart that once she told him, everything between them would change. For better or for worse—this carefree, sexy, no-strings
thing
between them would evaporate forever.

And Rafe would feel either trapped, guilty, obligated, or . . . dare she even hope for it?
Happy.

She
needed
him to feel happy, even one hundredth as happy as she was. And she knew she’d be devastated if he reacted with dismay or a sense of obligation, especially if he tried to hide it. She’d know. And there was no reason to think that dismay and obligation wasn’t exactly what he would feel. She knew he enjoyed her company and they had great sex. She knew Rafe was an honorable man.

But he’d never told her he loved her. Never spoken of a commitment. Never made her any promises.

She didn’t want a husband who didn’t need her with his whole heart. She’d already had one of those, and she wasn’t going down that road again.

So she’d been reminding herself over and over, she didn’t
need
a husband to raise this child. She’d love it enough for two parents easily, effortlessly, even though she was certain Rafe would want to be involved.

But involved didn’t mean married. It didn’t mean love.

So she’d been clinging to these last sweet, uncomplicated days, to the joy she felt when she was with him. She didn’t want this to end. But it had to. Today.

It wasn’t fair to either her or Rafe not to tell him, so she braced herself and twisted around in his arms so she was facing him.

Her throat went dry as she kissed him one last time, savoring the taste and scent and warmth of him.

But before she could gather breath to speak, his cell phone rang.

“Damn, I hate this thing.” He sighed against her lips.

Not as much as I do,
Sophie thought. Her heart was pounding. Now she just wanted to get it over with. Face the music, whatever happened.

“Dad.” Ivy’s voice was breathless and clearly audible to both of them. “I forgot, what day is Mom coming over?”

“Two weeks from today, Ives, why?”

Rafe tensed. Ever since Lynelle had reappeared in their lives, he’d been worried about the repercussions on Ivy. She’d seemed okay with everything up until this moment. Now he braced himself, wondering if she’d changed her mind and wanted to see Lynelle sooner than he’d arranged—or not at all. “It’s okay if you’ve had second thoughts about wanting to see your mother,” he said. “Because if you don’t, I’ll—”

“No, it’s not that. I want to see her, I guess. But Winnie Chandler’s birthday party is in three weeks. It’s at the bowling alley in Bozeman. She’s here at the library and she just invited me and Shannon. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t the same day I’m supposed to see Mom. That’s all. So I can go, right?”

“Winnie’s parents will be there?”

“Of course.”

“Are boys invited to this party?”

“Well . . . yeah.” Ivy spoke quickly. “It’s just bowling, Dad, no big deal. You have to let me go.”

No, I sure as hell don’t,
was his first thought. Hearing the urgency in his daughter’s voice though, he swore silently. Sophie’s gaze was trained on him, and she looked sympathetic but amused as she pulled back and they both sat up.

He could guess what she was thinking: that he couldn’t stop Ivy from growing up, liking boys, going to parties—
supervised
parties, he reminded himself. That it was all natural and normal. He knew all that. Recognized the logic of it. But he’d seen things from the other side, and it scared the hell out of him to see his daughter entering this new phase of life. He knew those boys without having met them, knew their instincts, their hormones, what they wanted, because he’d been one of them way back when. Maybe the worst of the bunch. And it wasn’t daisies and rainbows and horseback rides into an innocent sunset that they were looking for.

Ivy was vulnerable. Young. She ought to still be playing with Peegee and Hawaiian Barbie, not going to bowling parties with boys. He needed to protect her as long as he possibly could.

Like until she was forty.

“Dad?” Her voice sounded plaintive. Almost desperate. “I can go, can’t I?”

Rafe let out his breath. “After I talk to Winnie Chandler’s parents and check this all out, and
if
they’re going to be there the whole time, you can go.”

“You’re the
best
, Dad! Bye, gotta study.”

He heard the sound of girlish giggles as his daughter hung up on him before he could take anything back.

“Boys.” His mouth grim, he tossed aside his phone. “Suddenly I have to worry about boys.”

“You knew this day was coming sooner or later,” Sophie pointed out.

“And later’s always better. Between this and that deal I worked out with Lynelle to visit Ivy here once a month, I’m not sure how much more I can take.”

Ordinarily she might have smiled at the scowl in his eyes, but inwardly she was thinking that depending on how he took the news she was going to impart, his day might be getting a whole lot worse. Still, she clung to the hope it would instead get better.