After a hasty breakfast, Cilla grabbed the last of her things, hugged Martha and Rose, then called to Neecy. Lang stowed her bags in the Rover and left the keys on the dashboard. “It’s got a full tank, Neece, so you’re all set.”
When Cilla appeared, Neecy stepped back and hopped into the driver’s seat, giving them some privacy.
“Well, this is it, darling,” she said, reaching up to stroke his jaw. “It’s been wonderful to see you again. Thank you for not kicking me out.”
“Never. Thanks for all your help.” He took her hand and kissed it lightly. “Have a good flight.”
“And you, drive safe. You’ll be home in a week or so, right?”
“Something like that. I’ve got a few stops along the way.”
“Will be good to know you’re back in Boston.”
Ignoring her meaning, he said, “Good luck with Brent. Hope all the phone calls back and forth have smoothed things over for you guys.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, Brent and I’ll be fine. We’ll either kill each other or get married before the year’s out.”
“I hope it’s the latter, if that’s what you want.”
“Well, since I can’t have you, I guess I’ll have to settle for Brent and all his millions.”
He chuckled. “That should more than compensate.”
“Maybe.” She stared at him, expression pensive. “And what about you? Are you leaving your heart here or dragging her back to Boston?”
“What’re you talking about?”
“Oh, Lang, I’ve known you a long time, sweetheart. You never looked at me the way you look at Beth Morgan. I may be a lot of things, but I’m neither blind nor stupid. You shouldn’t be, either.”
“Better get going or you’ll miss your flight. Goodbye, Cilla. Thanks for coming for Dad. It meant a lot to him, and me.” He kissed her cool white cheek and hugged her.
“Love you, darling,” she whispered. “Take care of yourself.”
With those words, Cilla Beatty sashayed around the Rover and hopped in, knowing with certainty that it would be a very long time before she laid eyes on Lang Dillon again.
An hour later, Lang pulled up to the Morgan’s Run stables in one of the old, battered winery trucks. After postponing it several times, he had called over the previous day and made an appointment to talk with Maggie, Jeb, and maybe either Harley or Ben about riding equipment. As he got out of the truck, Maggie emerged from the barn and waved. “Hey, Lang. Good morning.”
“Hey, Maggie. Is this a good time?”
“Absolutely! Jeb and I have a whole list of innovative ideas for you.”
“What about the two other cowboys?” he asked, referring to Ben and Harley.
Maggie rolled her eyes. “They’re all over the place, having fits with the upcoming trip, the fair, and the people who are checking in today. Don’t worry, we have their list. You wouldn’t want to see them today, believe me. Harley’s about to combust, and my husband’s in a mood.”
“Oh?”
“He’s fretting over leaving me next week in ‘my condition.’ She patted her stomach. “He seems to forget that I had Emma all on my own while working full-time. Come on, we can sit out back where it’s shady. Want something to drink?”
An hour later, Lang had jotted down many ideas for general equipment needs, some of which sounded promising, especially the ideas Harley and Ben had given him about equipment for the pack trips. He was about to shut his notebook when Maggie said, “Now that we’ve talked about needs around here, I’d like to chat a little about the camp. Do you know about our plans for the riding camp for handicapped kids?”
“A little, yes. Sounds amazing.”
“It will be when we have everything we need to ensure the kids’ safety. We want them to feel totally confident and comfortable on horseback. Some things I’ve researched and can get, but I’d like to run some ideas by you, if that’s an area that might interest your company?”
Lang smiled and flipped his notebook open. “Absolutely. Shoot.”
Maggie and Jeb spent another hour describing the challenges and needs of riders of differing ages and disabilities. While this would clearly be a challenge and a dramatic departure for Rambler Sports, Lang was more excited than he had been about any new product idea in a long time.
Finally, Jeb excused himself to make a run into town. “Want anything, Mags?” he asked. “I could get lunch?”
She smiled up at her handsome assistant. “Thanks, Jeb. I’m all set.”
“Well, nice to see you again, Mr. Dillon. I hear you’re taking off soon.”
“Yup, that’s the plan. Headed out Friday. Thanks so much for all your input, Jeb.”
Jeb tipped his hat and turned away, headed into the barn.
“He’s a great kid.”
“Yes, he is.” Maggie gazed at him for thirty seconds, then added, “Don’t mind saying I’ll be sad to see you go, Lang.”
“Yeah, well, it’s time, I guess.”
“Have you spoken to Beth?”
He shook his head. “Won’t take my calls.”
“Perhaps she was waiting until your fiancée left.”
“Cilla is not my fiancée. She’s my ex-girlfriend. As in, we broke up last year. She left this morning.”
“Oh.”
“You might tell Beth that, if you see her.”
Maggie smiled at him, taking a long sip of her lemonade. “I think I’ll stay out of this one. Besides, you should tell her yourself.”
“How?”
“I don’t know, but please don’t leave without saying goodbye. You’ll regret it, and she’ll be devastated.”
“From what I hear, she’s going back to Bill.”
Maggie’s eyes widened, and she set down her glass. “Who told you that?”
“Someone saw them in Tucson, having a cozy lunch at a fancy restaurant.”
“That’s all?”
“What more do you need?”
She was about to respond when Harley appeared, hat pushed back, a coil of rope in his hand. “Well, if it isn’t love-’em-and-leave-’em Dillon.”
“Don’t start,” Lang said.
“Look, I don’t give a shit whether you stay or fly to the moon, but Beth Morgan is like a sister to me, and I don’t like to see her mistreated.”
Maggie glared at her boss. “Harley, why don’t you get something to drink and cool off?”
“I’m plenty cool, thanks.”
“Look, Langdon, I haven’t mistreated Beth and never would.”
“So what do you call throwing your girlfriend in her face when she was coming in to stay by your side?”
“Cilla is not my girlfriend. I had no idea she was coming. She just showed up.”
“Why didn’t you send her packing?”
Feeling tired and defeated, Lang shook his head. “It’s complicated. Anyway, she’s gone now.”
“Whoop-de-doo,” Harley said, staring down at Maggie. “Listen, I gotta go into town for a bit. Ben should be back soon.” He turned to Lang. “And if I were you, Dillon, I’d hightail it outta here. If you think I’m pissed at you, you damn well don’t want to see Maggie’s husband.”
“That’s enough, Harley.” Maggie scowled at him, but her boss had already turned heel and disappeared into the barn. “Pay no attention to him, Lang. He’s a hot head. He’s always like this before a pack trip, barking at everyone. Jeb and I have learned just to keep our heads down and stay out of his way.”
“He’s right, you know. I’ve been a world-class jerk to Beth. No wonder she’s run back to Bill.”
She reached out and grasped his arm. “Talk to her, please, Lang. Don’t leave without at least saying goodbye.”
“Thanks, Maggie,” he said.
They both stood, and he gave her a hug. “Ben Morgan’s a lucky man.”
“I’m lucky, too,” she said, smiling up at him, her dazzling blue eyes full of warmth.
“I’m gonna keep checking the camp website for updates.”
“It’s not up yet, but Sally, one of Mr. Morgan’s administrative assistants at the main office is a computer whiz, and she’s building it for us.”
He handed her his card. “Please email and let me know when it goes live. Have you thought of what you’ll call the camp?”
Maggie grinned, nodding. “It’s called Emma’s Dream.”