Wrangling the Cowboy's Heart (12 page)

Beside the picture of his mother was a studio photo of a young woman, blonde, beautiful and slender, smiling at the camera, poised and elegant.

“Is this Denise?” Jodie asked, lifting it to look closer. The woman's blue eyes gazing back at her seemed kind and gentle.

“Yes it is.” Finn's voice held a note of reverence, and Jodie could see why as she looked at the next image. Denise smiling an infectious smile, wearing scrubs, leaning close to a young boy in a hospital bed. The child's head was tilted toward her, his hand clutched hers, hope in his expression. “You said she was a nurse?” Jodie asked.

“She was in her last year of training when...when she died.”

The little boy looked as though he would walk through fire for the woman standing beside him.

Jodie glanced at the next picture. Denise in the hospital again, holding a baby, looking maternal and gentle.

Tough competition, Jodie thought.

She shook it off, but as she turned back to Finn, she wondered if he compared her to Denise.

“She seemed like a good person.”

“I am thankful she was in my life.” Then he smiled at her. “Just like, right now, I'm thankful to have you here.”

The light in his eyes and the grin on his well-shaped mouth were both encouraging and inviting. So she stood on her tiptoes and brushed a kiss over his mouth, as if claiming him. Reminding herself that she was here with Finn. Not Denise.

“So you ready for me to make you something to eat?” he asked.

Jodie felt a gentle settling in her soul. “Yes. I am.”

“Then, sit down and observe a master at work,” he said, pulling out a loaf of bread. “You need to know that I make the best grilled-cheese sandwiches this side of Saddlebank.”

“Put a pickle with it and I will acknowledge your culinary mastery,” she teased.

Finn laughed, buttering the bread. As he got cheese out of the fridge, Jodie couldn't help glancing once more at the pictures on the mantel. Denise seemed to be looking at her. Judging her.

I fall short
, Jodie thought.
But I'm trying
.

And that was all she could do.

* * *

“I like this color,” Brooke said, fingering a swatch of gauzy material etched with swirls of pastel pink and blue and green. “What do you think?”

Like an Easter egg
, Jodie wanted to say, but wasn't sure that Brooke had taken her along for her artistic input.

“The colors are lovely,” she prevaricated.

Brooke frowned at the vague comment. “I'm guessing you don't like?”

“I like it, but I'm thinking of what Mandie's music is like. A bit edgy, avant garde and yet approachable. I think you might want to emphasize that concept.”

Brooke bit her lower lip, destroying what was left of her pink lipstick. “What did you have in mind?”

“What do you think of sticking with a basic white-and-black concept?” Jodie suggested.

“Sounds stark.”

“Yes, but if we use lots of sheer white material for a backdrop, add some black accents, either musical notes or musical scores, then use some of those black metal stands you showed me to hold vases of bright red roses, all of varying heights, I think it could look dramatic and elegant at the same time.”

Brooke was still frowning and Jodie immediately regretted giving her input. “I'm no decorator...”

“But you have a unique sense of style,” Brooke said wistfully. “You always did. I mean, look at you now.”

Jodie glanced down at what she wore. A simple shift over leggings, belted with a scarf, a cluster of cheap gold chains around her neck. “This is nothing special. Found this at a bazaar in Bangladesh, and the pants are from a thrift store.”

“You do have a knack for pulling it all together and standing out. Always did. Even when you and your sisters were younger and were here in the summers.”

“Again, thrift store.”

“Your dad was that broke?”

“No, my mom was that broke. My dad never let us go shopping here. The only time we went to town was when he took us to church or we went to stay at friends'. Approved friends. The Bannisters and you for my sisters, Clair for me. He was pretty strict with us.”

And before she could see more denial of her father's personality on Brooke's face, Jodie moved over to another display, fingering the bolts of material, wishing she hadn't gotten pulled down this memory lane. She was tired of feeling as if she might have imagined everything her dad had done to her.

“What do you think of this?” she said, pulling out of the bargain bin a bolt of cloth that had a faint silvery sheen to it. “It's cheap enough that we could use lots of it and fill the front of the church.”

“I like that a lot,” Brooke said as she pulled some off to see how it draped. “Let's take it. Now I need a few things to make centerpieces to put on the hors d'oeuvres tables after the performance. There's a craft section on the other side of the store.”

They poked around, looking for items, laughing about some of the more outrageous ideas they came up with.

“This is like planning a wedding,” Jodie declared as they chose candleholders and runners, trying to bring the white, black and red theme into the centerpieces.

“It is, isn't it?” Brooke said. “The last time I did this was with Denise...” She stopped herself, looking agitated. “Sorry. Didn't mean to bring her up.”

“She was your friend?” Jodie asked, unable to stifle her own curiosity about the woman who once held Finn's heart.

“She was a real sweetheart.”

“So I understand.”

Brooke gave a wistful smile. “I was so happy for Finn when he started dating her. His own mother was so undependable. As you well know. That's the reason you're playing at the festival instead of her. But Denise. She was a rock for Finn. Someone he could rely on. Such a strong Christian and just what he needed.”

Each word Brooke spoke hooked like a barb in Jodie's soul. She sensed Brooke was simply being honest, but as she talked, Jodie knew she was more like Finn's mother in personality and behavior than like Denise.

And the thought hurt more than she wanted to admit.

“And it's been four years since Denise died?” Jodie asked.

“Four years ago on the day I met you and Finn at the church,” Brooke said, setting everything on the counter. “I can't believe he forgot. He goes every year to put flowers on her grave.”

Jodie thought of Finn's visit to a grave the day of her father's funeral. Initially she had thought it was his dad's, but now realized it must have been Denise's.

The salesclerk rang up the purchases and Brooke pulled her purse off her shoulder to pay, then let out an exclamation. “Oh, no. I left my wallet at home. Stupid me.” She turned to Jodie with an apologetic smile. “Do you mind paying? I'll reimburse you as soon as possible.”

Jodie glanced at the total and did a mental calculation of her own funds. She had paid a few bills yesterday that might not have gone through yet.

She would have enough to cover this, she told herself.

She swiped her card through, then felt her heart sink as the word
denied
popped up.

“Try again,” she told the clerk. “I might have punched in my PIN wrong.”

But once again that heart-sinking word flashed on the screen.

Of course this had to happen in front of Brooke, friend of Denise, who probably never had a bank card declined.

“Sorry,” Jodie said to Brooke. “I can't cover this.”

“What are we going to do? I don't have time to come running back here again,” she whined, rubbing her finger alongside her nose as Jodie slipped the useless bank card back in her purse, trying to think what she would do herself. Yes, she had some money in her savings account, but she would run out of that before she finished her two-month stint here.

Once again the irresponsibility of her lifestyle hit her hard. Once again she heard her father yelling at her to set money aside for a rainy day, whatever that meant.

Brooke rummaged through her purse again and then with a triumphant cry pulled a credit card from its depths. “I'm so sorry. I forgot I left this in here last time I used it,” she said. “I'm so scatterbrained.”

Jodie smothered a flush of resentment as the other woman paid for the purchases. If it wasn't for the flush that stained Brooke's cheeks, Jodie might have thought her act was deliberate.

They walked out of the store and it wasn't until they got into Brooke's car that she turned to her. “I'm so sorry,” Brooke said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that.”

“It's fine. I thought I had enough in my account. I'll just need to make a transfer.” Jodie needed to talk to Drake, her father's lawyer. He had mentioned funds she could access.

“But still. I hate it when something like that happens to me. I feel so useless. So irresponsible. It's so embarrassing.”

Please stop reminding me
, Jodie mentally pleaded. “I guess we're even now,” she said, giving Brooke a pallid smile.

“What do you mean?” Brooke looked genuinely puzzled as she started up the car.

“That summer. Before I left?”

She frowned. “No. Sorry, I still don't know what you're talking about.”

“You don't remember me and Jaden Woytuk sitting in the gazebo when you walked by? We said some unkind things.”

Brooke slowly shook her head, as if trying to dredge up the memory. Jodie could tell the moment the quarter dropped, as her dad liked to say.

A pained shadow flitted over the woman's features and she looked ahead, her hands tight on the steering wheel.

“You remember now, don't you?” Jodie said, her voice subdued.

Brooke nodded and pulled into the traffic flow.

“I'm so sorry,” Jodie said, doubting that Denise had ever done anything so unkind. “I wasn't a good person back then.”

Brooke gave her a vague smile, then turned her attention back to her driving. “It was a rough year for you,” she said. “I heard about you skipping the audition. I'm sure you had your reasons. Every time I saw your father at the café, he mentioned it. Said how bad he felt for you.”

Jodie pressed her lips together, fighting down the urge to set the record straight. “So why did you tell Finn to be careful?” she asked.

Brooke pulled in a slow breath, as if considering her next comment. “It was legitimate, I guess. I knew Finn was attracted to you once before. You're still kind of fun and interesting, like you were when you and your sisters came to visit. I also know that after Denise died, he fell into a deep funk. I just wanted him to make sure he wasn't moving too quickly with you. I didn't know you would be sticking around.”

Jodie felt like she should be insulted, but instead found herself envious of Finn and the community around him. People who cared what happened to him.

How long had it been since she'd felt that? Had she ever? Bouncing back and forth between Knoxville and here hadn't ever given her a sense of continuity in her life.

And now? She could be a part of this if she made smart choices now.

“I don't want to interfere.” Brooke was quiet a moment, then laughed, giving a self-conscious shrug. “Who am I kidding? Of course I want to interfere. I like Finn. And I haven't seem him smiling like this in a long time.” She grew serious. “But I think it's only fair to let you know that Finn is a straight shooter. His mother disappointed him so many times. I still remember his face whenever his baseball team would play and his mother promised to show up and didn't. It happened to him so many times it was heartbreaking.”

“What are you trying to say?”

Brooke tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, then shot Jodie an apologetic look. “I know your past and how hard it must have been, getting shunted between here and your grandmother's home in Knoxville. But the reality is you do have a bad reputation here. I know Amy wasn't crazy about you playing for Mandie, and she's been trying to find someone else, but you're here and Finn's mother isn't. I just hope that...that...”

“I don't let Finn down.”

“Kind of, yeah.”

Her words were probably not meant to hurt, but they did. Jodie thought of Amy and the disapproval that emanated from her like a wave. It seemed she wasn't keeping her opinions to herself.

Jodie hid her pain, turning to watch the landscape flow past as they headed back to Saddlebank.

Bad reputation.

She knew it herself, but hearing it from Brooke created another stream of questions.

Should she encourage Finn at all? Was she wasting her time and his?

Yet despite her concerns, she felt a rightness with Finn she had never felt with Lane, or any other man. For the first time in years, as they drove back to Saddlebank, she had a sense of heading home.

Could she do this? Hadn't she always promised herself she would remain true to who she was?

And yet, as she thought of Brooke's comment about Finn's happiness, vaguely attributing that to her, Jodie felt a peace she hadn't experienced in a long while.

If she had to change to make Finn happy, she could do that. Couldn't she?

Chapter Thirteen

F
inn yanked open the door of the church, glancing at his watch as he did. He had promised Donnelly he would cover the night shift again, but he wasn't due back at work for another hour. He knew Mandie was coming today to run through the music with Jodie, and he wanted to make sure everything was okay.

Had nothing to do with possibly seeing Jodie again, he told himself, yet his heart jumped at the thought.

Silly and scary how that woman could do this to him. A few weeks ago he had a plan in place for his life, and now he was thinking of ditching it. Going for broke, as Jodie had teased him about.

He had talked to Dr. Wilkinson, the owner of the ranch he rented, and to his surprise the doctor had been encouraging. Thankful, even, that Finn had finally made a decision. Apparently his hesitation had made Wilkinson wonder if Finn was still interested in purchasing the property.

Now things were shifting and he was stepping into unfamiliar territory. Was Jodie part of this?

The thought made Finn anxious. He was being cautious, but he had a right to be.

He heard the sound of a piano, a voice speaking over the music and he hurried his steps. Jodie was here already and, from the sounds of other voices talking he heard, Mandie, as well.

When he stepped into the sanctuary, Finn immediately looked for Jodie. But he didn't recognize the person sitting at the piano. Hair pulled back in a severe ponytail. White shirt. Black slacks.

Mandie stood on the stage, holding a microphone, consulting with a man who wore a headset. Her sound guy?

Finn glanced around the church and his heart sank. Amy sat in the front row, turned back to chat with a couple other strangers seated behind her. Probably more of Mandie's crew, Finn thought. Laura, Jodie's aunt, sat a few seats back.

But there was no sign of Jodie.

Had she bailed on him? And if she had, who was at the piano?

Then Mandie walked over to the pianist and talked quietly to her. The woman nodded, then glanced over her shoulder as Mandie walked back to her sound person. Finn stopped in his tracks.

The stranger at the piano was Jodie?

Why was she dressed this way? Had Mandie asked her to change her style of clothing?

He wandered into the sanctuary, feeling off-kilter at the sight of Jodie looking so...conservative.

She wasn't even wearing earrings.

Then she saw him and her smile and wave settled his concerns. Just Jodie being Jodie, he thought, making his way up the aisle.

“How is it going?” he asked as she got off the bench and came to join him.

Her smile shifted, looked more forced as she glanced past him to where Amy sat. “Mandie just needs to check the sound. But we're making headway.”

That seemed an odd way to put it.

Then Mandie came back again and Finn turned to her, holding out his hand. “Good afternoon. I'm Finn Hicks.”

“Ah. Then, I would suppose that Christie is your mother?”

“Yes. I'm sorry she couldn't be here.”

“I am, too.” The performer gave him a tense smile, then shot a quick glance Jodie's way.

“Is everything okay?” Finn asked.

“Everything is fine. No problem.” But the hasty way she spoke and her artificial humor made him think there was, indeed, a problem. Mandie gave Jodie a nod. “Shall we try it again? From the top of the second song. And I'd like to see if we can't inject some life into the piece?”

Jodie looked Amy's way, sat down at the piano again and, on Mandie's count, started playing. She fumbled the first few chords, found her way back and then abruptly stopped. “Can we try again?”

Mandie didn't even look at her, just nodded.

Finn heard Amy's heavy sigh as she got up. If he were honest, he'd admit to feeling nervous himself. He stepped back, wondering if his presence wasn't making Jodie anxious.

“Finn. Can we talk?”

Amy stood beside him, tapping his arm to get his attention.

Laura looked over at them, her expression concerned, but she stayed where she was as Finn and Amy walked to the back of the sanctuary.

“I have to tell you that I'm worried about Jodie playing this Friday,” Amy was saying. “I know we're pressed for time, but I think we need to find somebody else.”

As they spoke, Jodie started playing again, but her accompaniment sounded stilted compared to how he knew she could perform. He tamped down his own second thoughts. Jodie was just nervous. That was all.

“Were you thinking of asking Laura McCauley?” Was that why Jodie's aunt was here?

Amy waved off that suggestion. “No. Not at all. She's just being a lookie-loo.”

“I though Jodie was doing fine?”

“Mandie Parker is not the kind of person you play ‘fine' for,” Amy said, making little quotes with her manicured fingers. “She needs excellent. Is there any way, any way at all, you could contact your mother?”

Finn thought of the endless text messages he had sent his mom before Jodie showed up, the vague replies and then the silence that was typical of communications with his mother. “No. I don't think I can.”

He didn't want to go through that humiliation again, trying to reach out to a woman who contacted him only when it was convenient for her. He had spent too much of his life hoping she would come. Hoping she could put him first. He wasn't doing that again.

“I don't think she's a better player,” Finn said, feeling a bit disloyal. “And in spite of how you think Jodie is doing, I know I can count on her.”

“I still don't like this,” Amy said.

“Well, at the moment, unfortunately, we don't have any other option.”

That didn't come out right, but before he could correct his words, Mandie was talking. “Okay. I think we need another break,” she called out.

“I better go see if she needs anything,” Amy said, sounding self-important. She strode down the aisle, arms swinging, as if headed into battle.

Finn joined Jodie at the bench. She was paging nervously through the music, as if trying to find a different order to the notes.

“Hey. How's it going?” he asked, as he sat down beside her, though he could tell from the lines around her mouth and the way her eyes skittered to the front that it wasn't going well.

“I don't know. Hard to find the right balance,” she said. She looked up at him, her expression uncertain. “Maybe I shouldn't be doing this. Maybe your mother should be playing.”

Was Amy putting ideas in her head? Or was it the other way around?

He cupped Jodie's shoulder, tightening his grip, disappointed at her attitude. “I heard you play the other night. You
should
be doing this. You are an amazing pianist and I'm not one to hand out compliments easily. Just relax and be yourself. I believe in you.”

She looked up at him and her smile made him feel better. He bent down and brushed a gentle kiss over her lips. But as he drew away, he still saw uncertainty in her eyes.

“You can do this,” Finn said. “I know you can.”

“How do you like my outfit?” she asked.

Her question was as unusual as it was unexpected. He glanced at her plain clothes, knowing he was heading into murky waters. Was she looking for a compliment? That was so unlike her.

“Elegant,” he answered. It was all he could muster.

She gazed down at her pants, smoothing them with her hand. “That's what I was going for.” Then she gave him a beatific smile and he felt he was back on solid ground.

“I thought I would stop by before I went on my shift. And to let you know that I won't be around the next few days. I just got a call from the lady up in Great Falls I'm training those horses for. She wants me to deliver the gelding to her and help her out the first day he's at her place.”

“Really?”

The disappointment in that single word ignited hope in him that Jodie would miss him. He was just overly sensitive to her moods. Things were growing more serious between them and every moment they spent together took him a few steps closer to a place he'd never thought he would be again.

Making plans around a woman. Letting old dreams resurrect.

“I'm sorry. I have to go.”

“Of course. This is all part of you building up your business.”

“You gonna miss me?” He couldn't resist asking that.

“I will,” she said, reaching up to stroke his chin.

“I'll miss you, too.” He gave her another kiss, and then Mandie was calling her, telling her which piece she wanted to do.

“Sorry. I've gotta get back to work,” Jodie said. “Have fun with the horse.”

“It will be a riot.” He gave her hand an encouraging squeeze. “See you in a couple of days. And don't worry about your playing. Just be yourself. That's all you can be.”

“I wish I could be better than that,” she replied obliquely.

But before he could quiz her about it, she gave him another smile, then turned back to the piano. Mandie was at her mic again and giving Jodie the cue to start.

Finn hesitated, wishing he could pinpoint exactly what seemed off as Jodie played. He had heard her that night when they'd played together. Heard the emotion that ignited the song, brought it alive. He had felt as if the music was a living, breathing thing, filling up the auditorium and his soul.

Now, she sounded as if someone had deflated her. Technically she played well, but the spark seemed to be gone.

He wished he could stick around, give her more support. But since making the deal with Dr. Wilkinson, Finn needed the money he would get from his client for part of his down payment. To collect it, he had to deliver the horse.

He lingered another moment, then sent up a brief prayer.
Be with her, Lord. Watch over her.

Finn sensed she would need his prayers, because something was going on and he couldn't figure out what.

He walked across the parking lot toward his truck just as a woman got out of a small red car—a car like the one his dad used to own.

She wore her graying hair in a long braid down the back of a white shirt worn loose over a pair of flowing white pants.

His footsteps faltered as he belatedly recognized his mother. She'd worn her hair loose the last time he saw her, and her face had looked less drawn.

But what was she doing here now? Especially after she'd said she wouldn't be able to play?

He walked toward her, frustration and disappointment mingling with a feeling of hope. The same emotions he always felt each time he saw her, each time she sent him an email or text message.

“Hello, Mother,” he said as she came toward him, her smile hesitant.

“Finn. So good to see you.” She held her arms up to give him a hug.

He stepped forward and returned her embrace, then pulled back.

“Sheriff Donnelly told me you'd be here,” she said, scratching her arm with her fingers. “I was hoping to connect with you.”

“It's good to see you,” Finn replied.

“I wanted to see you. I just want to say I'm sorry—”

“How have you been?” he asked, cutting off the automatic apology she gave him every time she saw him.

He knew he should be warmer. Kinder. But disappointment after disappointment with her made him wary.

Her eyes locked on to his, her expression yearning. “I don't know what else to say but that I'm sorry.”

He gave her a strained smile as he acknowledged her apology.

Forgive me, Lord
, he prayed, knowing he wasn't playing his part as the loving and forgiving son.
She has let me down so many times.

And the fact that Jodie was now practicing in the church auditorium was physical proof of that. The fact that it all turned out well was a blessing in spite of his mother, not because of her.

“So it seems as if you managed to find a suitable replacement for me,” she said, waving one hand toward the church. The sounds of Jodie's playing floated out an open window over the parking lot.

“Yes. Jodie McCauley. She's very accomplished.”

Just then a discordant note sounded and Finn tried not to wince.

“I heard that from Mandie,” his mother said.

Finn narrowed his eyes as her words registered. “Did Mandie call you?” he asked, unable to keep the defensive note out of his voice. “Is that why you've come? To take over from Jodie?”

He knew she wasn't playing to her full potential, but surely—

“No. No. Not at all.” His mother fluttered her hands in protest. “I haven't spoken to Mandie since...since I told you I couldn't play.” She pressed her lips together as she hugged herself. “I'm sorry I put you in a bind.” She stopped there, as if sensing her apology wouldn't be welcome. “I just wanted to make sure things worked out for you.”

Finn tried not to look at his watch. To acknowledge the ticking of the clock. He still had to go home and load up the horse, then head out. The sooner he could leave, the sooner he could return and support Jodie. He sensed she could use all the help he could give her.

“Things worked out quite well after all.” He returned his mother's smile, feeling he was short-changing Jodie by using the word
well
. “Fantastic, in fact,” he amended. “And now I have to apologize. I'd like to stay and chat, but I have to leave for Great Falls to deliver a horse, and unfortunately, I won't be back for a day or two.”

“Of course. You're a busy man.”

Her words were like a small reprimand, but she could hardly hold him to account when she had been the one to jump in and out of his own life. She could hardly expect that he would be waiting for her reappearance.

“Will you be coming to the concert?” he asked.

“I'm not sure—”

“You should. I'd love to see you there.”

She seemed to consider his request, then nodded. “I think I might. I'd like to see Mandie again. And I'd like to hear Jodie play.”