The Art of Love (The Windswept Saga) (36 page)

“No, I don’t,” her mother stated flatly.  “I do think, however, that he loves you in a ra
re and special way, and when that happens, it’s very confusing, even disconcerting.”  Taylor was privately amused, wondering where her mother would acquire such a vocabulary word.  “For three years, I regretted that I had allowed you to break up with him.”

“Mom, that was my decision,” she interjected.  “And mine alone.”

“Let me finish,” she said, extending a hand to cut off her daughter’s words.  “I should have talked some sense into you but your father hadn’t been gone that long and we were both at loose ends, you and me.  Like I said, for three years I had my regrets, until you told me you’d met someone else.  You married Liam and I was finally able to put my guilt aside.  Your father and I were married long enough for me to recognize all-consuming love, the kind you had with Chandler.  And maybe you were both too young to have experienced it, but those things aren’t always up to us.  Tread lightly, my beautiful girl. You’re playing a dangerous game here, looking for cracks and flaws in your relationship where there aren’t any.  In doing so, you may wind up overlooking a real problem.  When it comes, it’ll hit you so hard you’ll wind up flat on your back.”  She closed her eyes tightly—when she opened them again, wetness spilled over the lower lids.  “I’m sorry, sweetie.  I was so harsh with you just now.”

Taylor cleared the raw emotion from her throat and pulled her mother into a fierce hug.  “You weren’t telling me anything I didn’t need to hear.”

“I know I push too hard sometimes.  I only want what’s best for you.”

“I could use a good push every now and then, Mom.”  That drew a laugh from Alice.  “I’m stubborn.”

“One of your better qualities.”  They pulled apart and their eyes met.  “So tell me more about your weekend,” she redirected.  “Spare no details, except the private ones.”

Taylor winked at her and spared a grin.  “The lake was beautiful,” she recalled.  “I must’ve spent hours staring at it, watching the water shift and move.  Chandler and I went swimming, and then Mark grilled steaks.  I helped with t
he kids...it was wonderful.  Every part of it.”  She sighed, reluctant to let go of the weekend and its memories.  “You’re coming out to the ranch for the 4
th
, right?”

“Of course,” Alice responded.  “I wouldn’t miss it for all the chocolate chip cookies in
the world.”      

Chapter 23

The 4
th
of July started out as a scorcher and lingered in that pattern throughout the day, the stifling heat only breaking when the sun mercifully sank behind the hills.  Waves of heat emitted from every surface, altering the appearances of houses, cars, even people; it was the type of hallucination usually reserved for sand-covered deserts.  There was not even the slightest suggestion of wind to tamp down the torrid air—it stubbornly refused to grant the ranch, and its inhabitants, even a brief respite from triple-degree temperatures.

It was placed smack-dab in the middle of a frenetic week.  The combined open house nearly wiped out Alison’s entire inventory,
to the point she wouldn’t be able to re-open for at least another five days.  Enough people to fill a small stadium had milled through the gallery, and afterward Chandler’s phone had rung until he finally shut it off and forwarded all calls to voicemail.  He was relieved when it came time to head out to the ranch—no one could find him out there without his wanting them to, which was almost always a nice feeling.  After putting in two long days at his side, even Taylor was probably tired of his company and ready to see him in a more casual situation.

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehea
d as he surveyed the fireworks display.  He unfastened the snap below the collar of his shirt, granting his chest precious air.  Sweat was already trailing down the center of his stomach, and he smiled at himself dolefully.  Only his brother would undo another button and think it stylish.  “I get the feeling this fuse would explode in my palm if I held it a second too long,” he worried aloud.

Chase brushed him aside gently, without making it seem like the protective pose of a parent.  “
Let me take care of that,” he recommended in his weathered voice.  “Your hands are far more valuable than mine.” 

Chandler stood up and removed the sheen of sweat from his neck.  CJ and Mark were over the next hill with Sam, checking to make sure no
stray cow had wandered into the area.  He suddenly wondered if, on a day like today, fireworks were even safe.  The last thing they needed was a brush fire.  He frowned at himself and cleared his throat.  “Dad, could I talk to you about something?”

Chase smiled fondly at his you
ngest child.  “That’s something you don’t even have to ask, son.  Fire at will.”

Chandler stifled a laugh at his father’s remark and smiled.  “You didn’t really know Mom that long before you decided to marry her, right?”

Chase responded with a perceptive smile.  “No, it was only a matter of months.  It was very easy and very quick to fall in love with her, but I don’t want you to think we didn’t stumble along the way.  We spent a lot of time together in those early days.  We worked the ranch and took all three meals together.  Then we started becoming friends and I shared things with her I’d never shared with another living soul.  I told her about how crushing it was to be alone in the world, and talked about my dreams and fears.  Thanks to your mom, my dreams came true, and then some.”  He smiled reflectively, and Chandler felt like he’d intruded upon a tender, private moment.  He was startled by his father’s next inquiry, coming so fast and unapologetically it nearly gave him whiplash.  “You’re planning to get down on one knee and ask Taylor to marry you?”

“Yeah,” Chandler replied once he’d regained his emotional footing.

Chase nodded in understanding.  “I figured as much.  That kind of relaxed anxiety is hard for a man to hide—especially you.”

“Relaxed a
nxiety?” Chandler repeated with both brows arched.  His father laughed in reply. 

“I’ll say one thing for the men in this family,” Chase noted.  “When we fall in love, we do it right under our own noses.  Your mom was my ranch hand, CJ and Alison tightene
d up after a summer of shoeing horses, and now you’ve hired and reignited things with your high school sweetheart.”  He gave his son the slightest wink.  “Well played, kid.”

“I guess it was stupid of me to pretend that I could turn off my feelings when I o
ffered her the job.”

“A man’s powerless against love,” Chase said, slapping him playfully on the shoulder.  “You might as well try to lasso a comet and ride its tail across the sky.”

“You know what?” Chandler asked.  “My dad taught me how to lasso.”

Chase
glanced toward the fireworks one last time.  When their gazes met again, Chandler saw that his father’s blue eyes were suddenly wet.  “Did he?  Sounds like a fine man.”

Chandler nodded in agreement.  “The finest.”  

***

Taylor could feel the house, and by
extension the air conditioning unit, groaning against the heat. She hadn’t even been outside and she still knew it—it was hot enough out there to fry an egg on the pavement.  She yawned and pulled her hair into a ponytail before she headed into the kitchen.

“Mom?”

Alice was searching the pantry for something unseen.  “In here,” she called out helpfully.

“I was just wondering if maybe you shouldn’t stay home today.”

She emerged with a bag of sugar which she promptly set atop the counter.  “I’ve survived worse heat than this.  Besides, I was going to make some candy.”

Taylor eyed the bag of sugar worriedly.  “You don’t have to go through any trouble.  Bryn will have more than enough food for everyone.”

“I hope so.”  Alice met her daughter’s eyes.  “Speaking of which, how is your relationship with your boyfriend’s mother?”

“Tense,” she answered honestly.  “And part of that is my fault.  How would you feel if someone had broken your child’s heart without a compelling reason?”

“Point taken.  How much time have you spent with her?”

Taylor paused before answering, performing some mental calculations.  “To be honest, not a lot.”  She shook her head.  “I don’t think it’s been on purpose.  We’ve obviously spent a lot of time one-on-one…um, together,” she censored quic
kly.  “Chase and Bryn stay pretty busy.  There seems to be no shortage of things to do on the ranch.  And I’m sure we’ll have plenty of opportunities to spend time with them.”

“Just don’t replace me with her,” Alice begged with a wink.

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, Mom,” Taylor replied, gripping her hand.  “Whatever our differences have been over the years, no one can replace you.”

They drove through the town, the patriotic streamers hanging limply from streetlights.  A few children stood in
the courthouse square with sparklers, their parents watching at a safe distance.  Taylor remembered being a child, sitting on her father’s shoulders and watching the parade floats go by.  Maybe he hadn’t been as tall as her child’s mind envisioned, but he always gave her the best vantage point.  It was the same in life—he hadn’t been there as long as she’d wanted, but long enough to imbue her with strength, tenacity, and courage.  Like anyone else, she needed to be reminded of that every now and again.

“The
ranch looks beautiful,” Alice noted upon their arrival.  “Where is Chandler’s house?”

Taylor navigated the unpaved road carefully.  “Way back on the other side,” she said, drawing out the first word.  “They just bought that last year.  It used to be the C
oronado Ranch.”

“That’s right,” she recalled. 
“I’m sure you’re eager to see him.”

She shot her mother an annoyed smirk.  “It’ll be a while before we cross paths today.  We’re going to hang out with the women and children.”

“Not a bad place to be.”

She parked the car and attempted to help Alice up the stairs, only to find herself brushed off. 
Bryn greeted them at the front door, looking beautiful and vibrant behind her familiar apron.

“Welcome to our home,” she said brightly.  “It’s so nice to see y
ou again, Alice.”

“Thank you,” she replied quickly as they exchanged cheek kisses.  “Need any help in the kitchen?”

Bryn laughed.  “Of course.  You’re our guest and under no obligation to help, but I’d be glad for it.  You can join in too, Taylor.”

“Thank
you,” she replied with a nod.  She overheard the sound of children’s laughter.  “I think I’ll check on the kids first, though.”

“Sounds good.”  She hooked an arm around Alice’s shoulders and the women chattered their way toward the kitchen.  Taylor steeled
herself and headed into the living room.  The three older children wrestled playfully in the floor; Christa had the baby in her arms and Alison was supervising with an eagle eye.

“Hi,” she said, greeting Taylor with a hug.  “Welcome to the calm side of th
e house.”

She took a seat on the sofa beside the two women.  “I was going to help in the kitchen.  What about the two of you?”

Alison shook her head.  “Not to sound lazy, but Christa and I don’t contribute much in that area.  If the need arises, then one or both of us will pitch in.  Otherwise, I defer to my mother and my mother-in-law.”

Christa dipped her head and kissed the baby’s nose; he gurgled happily in response.  “Would you believe that Matthew is already trying to walk?
” she asked, clearly enraptured of her squirming bundle.

“It’s normal,” Alison responded with a friendly shrug.  “Sooner they walk, the sooner they can learn to ride.”

“Doesn’t that scare you?” Taylor asked warily.

“I’d be lying if I said no,” Alison replied.  “But I’ve got two kids w
ith a stubborn streak as wide as this whole ranch.”

“I wonder where they got that from,” Christa mused in a stage whisper.

The three of them laughed. “Anyway,” Alison continued, “it’s like anything else—start off slow, work up to being an expert.  Little Chase has been practicing and CJ doesn’t let him out of his sight.”  Her eyes drifted toward the center of the room.  “Bree, try not to pull your brother’s hair.”

“He pulled mine first,” she countered.

“Want me to separate all three of you?  I’ll do it.”

“No!” they chorused.

“That’s what I thought.”  She smiled at Taylor.  “They’d rather play nice than be split up…thank God.”

“Do you discipline each other’s children?” she inquired.

“Sparingly,” Christa answered for the both of them.  “They’re good kids.”  She gave a terse smile and lowered her voice.  “I am worried about Max, though.  He’s not nearly as outgoing as other kids his age.  And he’s heading to school soon.  I don’t want him to struggle when it comes to making friends.”

“He’s a little more shy an
d withdrawn, like Mark was around that age.  He’ll be fine,” Alison concluded.  “And he has one thing going for him that Mark didn’t.”