Reunited with the Cowboy. Carolyne Aarsen
family. She suspected Kim wouldn’t be pleased to find out her return to Saddlebank was the reason John and Adana hadn’t come for supper.
“I could have called my dad to pick me up,” she said. “Or Keira.”
“And it would have taken them half an hour to get here. It’s fine.”
Heather folded her hands in her lap, looking directly ahead, wondering if waiting in the chilly wind would have been preferable to riding with John and his daughter, feeling guilty because her mistake had prevented them from visiting Sandy’s parents.
“Your mother is excited to see you,” John said, his own eyes on the road. “That’s all she’s been talking about since she found out you were coming.”
“I’m excited to see her and Dad, too. It’s been so long.”
“So why—” John stopped himself there. “Sorry. None of my business.”
“Why was I gone so long?” Heather blamed the sharp note in her voice on the delayed reaction to plowing her car into the ditch. It had nothing to do with seeing her old boyfriend again.
John gave her a direct look, his blue eyes seeming to bore into her. Then he glanced away.
“I couldn’t get the time off. I would have come if I could.” The words sounded lame, even to her.
“Pwease, have earrings,” Adana said, reaching for the feather-shaped baubles tangled in Heather’s long hair.
“Those are too dangerous for you to play with,” she replied.
“And probably too expensive,” John added. He was smiling, but Heather caught the faintest hint of reproach.
She could have told him that she’d picked these up on the cheap from a street vendor at Herald Square as she’d been hurrying to an interview for yet another low-paying job. But saying so would require an explanation as to why she was forced to work in a retail job—any job, actually—when she’d made so much money modeling. Which would mean delving into the sorry state of her finances and her relationship with Mitch.
Your new job is the start of your new life, she reminded herself. Only if you can get to Seattle. Only if your car gets fixed in time.
Adana yawned loudly, then laid her head back against her car seat, blinking slowly. She looked tired, but turned to Heather again, softly smiling and reaching out to touch her arm.
Sorrow lacerated Heather’s soul at the contact, and she felt as if her breath was sucked out of her body. Seeing this little girl up close brought back painful memories of her own loss.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” John asked her. “You look like you’re in pain. Did you get hurt when your car hit the ditch?”
Heather fought for composure, slowly breathing in and out. “No. I’m fine.” The aches in her body would go away. The one in her soul would be with her always. She’d thought she had buried it, but Adana was a reminder of what she had lost.
“I hope she sleeps a bit,” John was saying. “She’s been out of sorts the last few days. Getting shuffled around too much.”
“My mom takes care of her when you’re working, doesn’t she?”
“She did. But after your mom broke her neck, your mom’s friend Alice has been helping out. She’s a good person, just...” John stopped there.
“Not the same as her mother,” Heather finished for him.
He nodded at her comment. “No. And I can’t give Adana that.”
Heather heard the sorrow in his voice and felt a glimmer of envy for the person he was grieving.
“Your daughter looks a lot like Sandy,” she couldn’t help saying.
“That’s what everyone tells me,” John replied, his features softening as he smiled at his little girl. “Thankfully, she has Sandy’s sweet personality, too.”
“Lucky her. Sandy was a wonderful person and a good friend. I’m sure...I’m sure you miss her.”
John laid his hand on Adana’s legs, curling his fingers around them, as if reinforcing the connection between them. “Thankfully, I still have Adana.”
Heather knew his comment was a simple statement of fact, but she couldn’t help feeling a gentle reprimand. She should have sent a sympathy card after Sandy’s death, but Heather and John had had a complicated history. Too many missed opportunities.
Too many wrong choices.
Heather stopped herself from delving into the past as she stared at the road ahead. This visit to the ranch was a chance to catch her breath. Connect with her family before she headed out to a job that she felt would give her some control over her runaway life.
She glanced at John’s profile. In spite of the tension that seemed to have settled between them like a silent visitor, she felt that curious twinge of attraction that was always between them.
His features were even, well proportioned. His narrow nose, angled cheekbones and strong chin with the faintest hint of scruff all combined in perfect harmony. Even his tousled blond hair added to the look of a man who commanded attention everywhere he went.
Aware of her scrutiny, he sent a puzzled glance her way. “What’s wrong?”
She laughed. “Nothing. I was just thinking you’d make a good model.”
His eyes narrowed. “That’s not the kind of life I’d like.”
The harsh note in his voice seemed like another reprimand of her previous lifestyle.
Modeling had made her a lot of money, but had also brought her a lot of grief. It had created a false sense of what had value and what didn’t. And from the frown on John’s face, it had caused an even larger chasm between them.
“It isn’t for everyone,” she admitted quietly.
“Did you enjoy it? Modeling?”
She easily heard his unspoken questions.
Why did you quit college? Why did you choose Mitch over me?
“I don’t think I would have chosen that career if it wasn’t for Mitch,” Heather responded, trying not to sound defensive.
“He got you your first job, didn’t he?”
She gave a curt nod, remembering too well Mitch’s promises of big money that had made her quit college when things got hard. And the money had come those first few years. She had been able to repay the Bannisters the sum they had put up for her college expenses, which had made her feel she’d repaid her debt to them. But even as she’d experienced some success, it all came to a crashing halt when Mitch had made some bad investments. The first thing he lost was the fancy apartment, the second, his control over his temper.
Regret, Heather’s constant companion, shivered through her.
“I was sorry to hear about your divorce,” John said. “I’m sure...it’s been hard.”
“It’s okay. I’m over the worst of it,” she told him, with a careful shrug.
Which was a lie, she thought, unable to keep herself from glancing at Adana again. Heather had thought she was over the worst, until she saw John and his perfect little girl—both stark reminders of what she had given up to seek a life she’d thought she’d wanted.
She looked ahead, drawing on old survival skills, tricks she’d learned to get through whatever faced her.
You’re on your own, Heather, she reminded herself. Only you can take care of you.
* * *
“Thanks for bringing our girl home,” Monty said, taking one of Heather’s suitcases from John as he stepped off the back of his truck.