Thursday afternoon, Lang headed back into town to complete Rose’s list of party errands. As he emerged from the bakery, he spied Maggie Morgan and her daughter across the street and waved. They waved and crossed the street as he set the frozen puff pastry in a cooler in the back of the Rover.
“Hi, ladies. Nice to see you.”
Emma grinned from ear to ear, skipping in her funny, off-balanced way. “Hi, Lang!”
“Someone’s getting very excited about the party Saturday,” Maggie said. “How are the preparations coming along?”
“Pretty good.” Maggie was one attractive woman. Ben Morgan was lucky. Her daughter was a doll, too. “This is the last of Rose’s list. Don’t know why the caterer couldn’t bring the puff pastry. For that matter, I can’t believe we’re even having lobster Newberg. I mean, what could be more absurd in the middle of the southwest?”
“Wow, where’d you get the lobster?”
“All shipped from California. We’re using langostino and telling my dad it’s Maine lobster. He’ll never know the difference. It’s his favorite dish from when he was stationed in Newport during the navy.”
“Then he should have it.”
“How’s your dad doing?”
“Great. He’s semiretired. Still does veterinary work on the side. No more wrangling. He helps out a lot with Emma, which has been a godsend, especially before her dad and I got together.”
“Ned Williams was the best wrangler in Arizona when we were growing up. I worshipped him.”
She laughed. “I think he’d probably argue with you about the ‘best’ part, and get a chuckle thinking of himself as someone’s idol.”
“Then I’d challenge him to name me someone better.”
Maggie’s dad had spent the better part of his life in the saddle, working for ranches in the area, taking care of large animals on the side. He had gone most of the way through veterinary school but had stopped short of his degree. Over the years, he had kept up with medical advances through any professional development open to laymen. His skills and expertise were highly valued by ranchers and farmers in the Valley, and he was usually the one they called in an emergency.
“Can I buy you ladies a lemonade at Gracie’s?”
“Can we, Mommy?” Emma jumped up and down, dancing around her mother.
Maggie laughed. “We’d love it, if you have the time.”
“For two beautiful ladies like you, anytime.”
When they were settled in a booth, tall ice-rimmed glasses of freshly made lemonade in front of them, Lang asked, “Thursday not a workday for you?”
“No. Since we’ve been married, I cut back to three days. With Ben back, there’s usually plenty of help at the stables. I have cut back mostly to lessons and a few pony camps during the year. Still help out with the mustang program, but my overprotective husband would never allow that now that I’m pregnant.”
“What’re you doing with mustangs?”
“We train them and domesticate them as much as you can a wild animal. Then they go to the Border Patrol. Those guys are expert riders. They like the challenge and can handle them.”
“I’ve got a pony,” Emma said. “I have lessons twice a week.”
“Wow, that’s amazing. I’d love to see you ride.”
“We keep him in our barn. I groom him every day.”
“Good for you. I haven’t ridden in a while, but I love horses. Grooming’s super important.”
“Do you still ride?” Maggie asked.
“Not much. I rode when I was in college. A friend roped me into the local polo league a few years ago and I did that for a couple of seasons, but this past year has been too crazy.”
“Polo,” Maggie said, suddenly looking pensive. “Beth’s boyfriend, Bill, is a polo player. They have a league in Elgin during the rainy season when the fields are green.”
“I didn’t know that.” Lang gazed at her. “Is he a nice guy, Sampson?”
“Can I go tell Stacy something, Mommy?” Emma asked, clearly bored with the adult conversation. Midafternoon, there were only two other tables occupied besides theirs, so Maggie nodded.
“Don’t bother her, though, okay?”
As Emma ran off, Maggie turned back to Lang. “Yes, he’s a very nice man. Until this, he’s always been incredible to Beth.”
Crestfallen, Lang was not entirely successful in hiding it.
“You have feelings for her, don’t you?”
“Obvious, huh?”
“Do you have history? Were you involved before you left Saguaro?”
“No. Of course, I knew who she was. Our parents are best friends, or at least our mothers. Ben Morgan Senior probably thinks my dad is an ass, but that’s another story.”
The bitterness in his tone surprised Maggie, and she sat quietly, waiting for him to continue. When he did not, she said, “Bill broke her heart. I haven’t any idea what she’ll do. Go back to him, break it off, who knows? If you’re wondering whether I think he’s worth it, I cannot say. That’s Beth’s choice. Bill has always seemed a quiet, self-effacing kind of person to me, and he’s been unfailingly kind to Emma and me. He actually took several shifts with her rehab. For that, we—Emma’s dad and myself—will be forever grateful to him. As far as what he did to Beth, her brother will never forgive him. But if she decides to go back and try to make things work, we will support her two hundred percent.”
“She’s lucky to have you in the family.”
“We’re the lucky ones,” she said, hugging Emma, who had just returned with a lollipop from Stacy. ‘Thank you so much for the lemonade, but we’ve got to get going.”
Lang said goodbye, and Maggie and Emma departed as he paid. On the drive back home, he wondered if Beth and Bill were still together. Had they made up over lunch? Made appointments with counselors to try to patch things up? Time to go home, he told himself. The trip to Saguaro had undone him in ways he had not anticipated. Beth Morgan had rocked his carefully crafted world, and he no longer knew who he was or what he wanted. He thought about her words, whispered in the heat of passion, her soft skin against him, her depths where he had lost himself so completely. Compared to their two liaisons, his sexual life with Cilla seemed like child’s play.