Chapter Seventeen

Jake leaned forward to count out some bills to the taxi driver before opening the door into a buffeting wind. Leaves flew by as if they were late for appointments. He flipped up the collar of his new coat and tucked in his muffler as some extra protection against the blast. Glancing up at the building, he hoisted his overnight bag onto his shoulder, and checked the address before proceeding up the steps into the shelter of the foyer. A smell of disinfectant and damp greeted him as he took in the battery of brass mailboxes, some hanging invitingly open, and found the one for Bennett. He jabbed the button beneath it several times until a cranky voice came over the intercom.

“You only have to ring once, Jake!”

He smiled to himself. Paige had no doubt spied his arrival from an upstairs window and knew it was him. As the door buzzed its release, he shouldered it open to a flight of steps and skipped them two at a time before coming to the first floor and apartment one-ten. The door opened as if by magic, but it wasn’t Paige standing there.

A leggy blonde extended her hand with a “Hey, how you doin’?” that made him feel, literally, as if he were home. After shaking his hand, she showed him in to their small sitting room.

“Let me take your coat, dang northern weather. And just leave your bag there. Paige is having a late day. She’s just dressing. Can I get you something? Coffee perhaps? I’m Deirdre, by the way, Paige’s roommate.”

“Oh. Jake Ryder.” He plopped his bag down and started to extend his hand again, then remembered he and Deirdre had already shook and let it drop. He slipped off his coat and muffler and handed them to her to hang in the closet by the door.

Paige had been right, though—Deirdre was a good-looking woman. Her soft cashmere top caressed neat little breasts and came down to a pair of jeans showing off the rest of her figure. A little, turned-up nose gave her a mischievous air combined with the sky blue eyes, and her long, blonde hair was tied back loosely with a ribbon. Her whole demeanor spoke of southern hospitality, a big Texas welcome. It almost made Jake laugh, and he wondered what Paige had told Deirdre about him, whether she had told this woman he was meant to be her future husband. Somehow, he guessed not; he figured that joke was kept for him.

“So, would you like coffee?” Her soft drawl brought him back to the present.

“Uh. No, not right now. But thanks.”

“Jeez, you look fantastic.” Paige’s voice burst into the room. “Your hair’s grown in!”

Jake, just about to sit down, jumped back to his feet, and stood there somewhat awkwardly. He gazed at Paige standing in the door to her bedroom and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, guess it has. Well, you mustn’t have noticed it last time. It’s almost three weeks since you saw me, Paige,” he pointed out.

“So it is. And you were wearing your Stetson.”

She came forward, arms extended to embrace him, as if to claim him, and he dipped down to her for a peremptory exchange of kisses, though she did not let go. She stood smiling up at him.

“Gosh, fancy you being in Philly, Jake. You look so out of place.”

At this, Deirdre laughed. “Well, you can take the man out of Texas, but, you know… Anyway, I best be heading off to the library, got a mess of studying to do.” She grabbed a coat from one of the hooks by the door and shoved it on, throwing a scarf about her neck and collecting a satchel of books. “Nice to meet ya, Jake. See you down home sometime, hey?”

“Yeah. Sure. Nice to meet ya.” He stood quietly while she went out, and then grimaced at Paige. “So, that’s who you’d have me married off to, huh? Somehow, I don’t think so.”

Paige didn’t reply, trying to hide a smile. “How did the horse buying go? Lancaster, did you say?”

“Yeah. Stallion wasn’t quite what I wanted. Funny place, though. Interesting, those Amish. All them folks drivin’ around in buggies. It’s sort of like some giant movie set. Or steppin’ back to another time. Have you been?”

“Not for years. But we see them sometimes in town here, selling vegetables and stuff. They strut around talking on their cell phones, which seems somewhat incongruous. Anyway, I think Mother set a book there once or something and dragged me along. As she does.”

“How is Carrie?” He wondered for a moment if he should ask, but Paige looked so relaxed, so…what was it? Different somehow. More at peace with herself.

She strolled back toward a small kitchen area off the main room, and Jake took this as his cue to sink into one of the sofas. The room was a typical student apartment. It could have been almost anywhere, although this one had been better furnished than most. Actual paintings were hung on the wall rather than posters, and the comfort of the sofa told him it hadn’t been a hand-me-down, but rather purchased new.

Paige fussed with two mugs and came back with coffee.

“Did you find us all right?” she asked, handing him his mug, obviously avoiding the subject of her mother.

“Yeah, I did what you told me to do. Made sense to hand the car back in at Philly airport and come by taxi. Especially as I’m flying out of Newark tomorrow night. Easier to catch the train up really.”

“Why Newark?” Plopping herself down into an armchair catty-cornered to him, Paige blew over the top of her mug before taking a tentative sip and, apparently deciding it was too hot, lowered it between her hands for warmth.

“Cheap flight. And since Dad is looking for ways to save money while paying off my mother—”

“They finally divorced?” She picked some fluff off her sweater and flicked it aside.

Jake stared at her until she raised her gaze to him. “You want to discuss that?” he offered.

“Not right now. Maybe later.”

He ran his gaze over her, remembering how very beautiful she was, remembering the moment he got into that car so many months ago. Her rich brown hair was slightly disheveled from sleep now, but her face had a glow, the cupid’s bow lips suppressing a smile beneath her huge eyes. His heart fluttered.

“In Bandera… I tried to get you to talk back in Bandera, but it was so rushed, that day, and…” He put the coffee mug down on the floor. “Did you ever realize it’s often you who phones me, Paige?” He probed her with an inquisitive nod. “I just wondered, why? I mean, it had nothing to do really with Carrie and Dad, did it? And I don’t think you were really that concerned for my health after the fire an’ all. Were you?”

Paige continued to hold her coffee as if it were utterly important she not let it go.

He grimaced. “Most gals would’ve had a one night stand, or a vacation romance, whatever the hell you want to call what went on back in April, and then they’d’ve gone on back home and forgotten about it. Maybe said the occasional ‘hi’ on Facebook, sent a text now and then, whatever. But you, you actually phoned me, you kept it going. I mean, I understand I did a lot of the calling, but recently, you know, it’s been you. I just wanted to know why?”

“You began phoning me as I recall. Maybe I just wanted to talk to someone who wasn’t…here.” There was a note of petulance in her voice. “Anyway, did you come all this way for that?” Her voice took on the edge he remembered so well, the defensiveness, the wariness.

He ran his hand over his face and studied her for another moment. “I don’t know whether I would’ve come all this way if I hadn’t of had to go to Lancaster. I can’t answer that to be truthful. Probably not, after seeing you in Bandera.” When she said nothing he continued, “But I would’ve asked you the same question sooner or later. On the phone if not in person. Long distance relationships—whatever their nature—friendship, lovers, whathaveyou—they don’t usually work. And, you know, there’s Steven. I understand about Steven, that you’re probably not ready for another relationship. I got all that. And I understand, well, I understand there’s a difference between a woman in grad school and a rancher’s son from—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! Don’t give me that bit of crap, please. My mother, bless her, is in love with your father. She doesn’t see the difference, as much and as often as I’ve pointed it out to her…”

“So, you did point it out. You do see the difference,” he pressed.

“I see a difference, but it doesn’t mean I attach any significance to it. Ray was just so different from anyone my mother had dated in the previous twenty odd years. That’s all.” Paige took a gulp of coffee. “This is ridiculous. Are you asking me what my intentions are? Is that what you want to know? Were you expecting me to say, ‘you had me from hello?’”

Jake threw his head back and laughed. He ran a hand over his face as he gazed at her.

Paige’s mouth puckered in contemplation. “We can’t be just friends then?”

“That’s usually the guy’s line, isn’t it? Friends with benefits?”

“Oh, Lord. How are you, anyway? I didn’t even ask. What happened about your confession? What happened about your stab wound? I see no bandage, which is good. You haven’t told me anything.”

“Well, obviously I’m fine, otherwise I wouldn’t be sittin’ here. As for the drug charges, my lawyer got a plea bargain or whatever it’s called for turning state’s evidence. I’ll have a suspended sentence and a fine. Ty’ll be arraigned on several counts, including attempted arson. That’s it.” He didn’t let his gaze leave her, wouldn’t be sidetracked from his mission. “You gonna finish the other conversation or we gonna dance ’round that all night?”

“‘All night?’”

He tried unsuccessfully to stop himself from smiling. “Well, I thought I could crash on the floor or something.”

“‘Or something?’” She slammed her cup onto the small table by her side. “You’re incredibly good-looking. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Why is it I hear a ‘but’ coming?” He stood suddenly and moved to the window overlooking the street. Down below, dry leaves were whipping around in mini twisters as bundled students hurried to warm places in the December cold. “Boy, when I got in that car that day and saw you, I thought I’d got in some vehicle bound for heaven.”

“Oh, what crap, Jake, for heaven’s sake. Stop being so poetic and silly. Grow up.” She picked absently at a hang nail. “You thought no such thing. If anything, you wondered why we picked you up, two women alone. And you were headed home from Iraq, so I would think your mind was on anything—maybe not,” she cut herself off. “I suppose you were thinking about sex after all those months. Maybe that’s it, Jake. After so long away from women, you just fell for the first half-decent looking woman you met.”

“You’re more than half-way good-lookin’ Paige, and you damn well know it. And there’s more to it than that. Maybe when they say opposites attract it’s true.” He flicked the curtain, leaving his hand in a fist. “I may have been an imbecile ’bout some things, certainly ’bout the whole Robbie matter, and you may well think me poetic and silly, but I know my own dang feelings. What I don’t know are yours.” He remained by the window, the diffused light coming through the sheer curtains. “So, you gonna answer my question then?”

“You want to know if I’m really in love with you, is that it?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Are you going to ask me to stop phoning you if I say no?”

“Not sure.”

“Well, that’s my answer, too. ‘Not sure.’” She waited, looking across at him. “Right now, I could fall into bed with you, but it would be like incest I think. I don’t know. I know it isn’t incest, but it would feel like it. Don’t you think?”

“No.”

“Okay. I see you as that friend with benefits, then. I don’t know what my feelings are beyond that. I’m numb. It’s probably still too soon for me to think of having another relationship. I don’t want to hurt you, so if you think you’re headed that way please let me know and I’ll never darken your door again. Or whatever. I don’t know—as I told you—what I want to do with the law degree—I thought of ditching it as you know, but have decided it’s probably worth having for the moment. Beyond that, I have no idea where I want to be or who with. I told you all that, more or less, in Bandera. As for Steven, I look back on him now—on us—and I’m confused. I know I loved him, and I know he loved me, and I know if he lived we would’ve married, and I’d never have had second thoughts about it. Maybe the mind has a way of compensating for loss I haven’t quite figured out as yet. But whatever I felt for him and whatever I feel for you, they’re so different… They may both be ‘love’ but, really, I just don’t know.” She stopped and her gaze slid to him askance. “I mean, do you really want a relationship with a New York lady lawyer?”

“Would you ever want a relationship with a…an uneducated rancher’s son?” he countered.

“First off, you’re not uneducated. Unschooled perhaps, but not uneducated. Second…I don’t know what second is. If you’re asking me what I see in you, I see someone who is completely honest, someone who is so unlike Steven I know for sure I’m not trying to replace him, someone who is unlike any other man I’ve ever met because you’re…you’re…I don’t know quite how to describe it. You’re basic. You’re an innocent. You’re ‘what you see is what you get.’ It’s probably the same damn things my mother sees in Ray. I like talking to you—it gets me away from life here, it makes a change. And, strange as it may seem to you, I did enjoy your company. Well, of course I did. Most of the time we were together, we were having sex—and it was pretty damn good.”

Jake stood there, their gazes locked on each other, a quiet stretching punctuated only by car horns and laughter from the street below. “Well, I guess it’s gonna have to be ‘wait and see’ and I leave here none the wiser, huh, Paige?”

“I wouldn’t say that. You’re a little bit wiser, even if you haven’t got a clear answer. Look…” She sighed, getting to her feet, a weary note now evident. “I have to get back to the books. Stay by all means. I’ll cook you dinner later, and you can spend the night, but I’d like you to do me one favor.”

“Oh? What’s that?” His brow crinkled with suspicion.

“If you’re flying from Newark in the evening, I’d like you to get up and go see my mother in New York tomorrow morning. I’ll be happy to pay for the train ticket if you’re short but… Try to talk some sense into her, will you?”

****

Jake got out of the subway at the Museum of Natural History, a cold blast of frosted air burning his face. As Paige had directed, he faced Central Park, trees shaking their dismay at the wintry weather. “If you face the park,” she had said, “then to your left is north and to your right, south.”

He headed north and found the building, just as she had described, an impressive portico jutting out into the street, giving pedestrians temporary relief from the elements. A white-gloved, uniformed doorman swung open a heavy bronze inlaid door before Jake was faced with another attendant.

“I’m here to see Ms. Carrie Bennett, please.”

“Yes, sir, go right on up.” The man pointed toward two impressive elevators, all etched glass and brass.

Relieved of his overnight bag in a locker in Penn Station, Jake probably did look like he belonged here. Yet something wasn’t right. He stopped in confusion, wondering if Paige had changed her mind and phoned her mother ahead to warn her of his visit. She had told him the doorman would call upstairs to ask Carrie if it was all right to send him up, and he would certainly know then whether he was welcome or not. But now, sent straight up, he was puzzled by the whole procedure.

The elevator opened, a hint of pine greeting him from the Christmas wreath within, and he pushed the button for fourteen and waited, nerves jangling.

The door opened into a vestibule for two apartments, a filled coat rack outside one. The holiday décor did nothing to make him jovial as a maid came out and confirmed this was Ms. Bennett’s residence. She offered to take Jake’s coat, which he handed to her before she led him inside and directed him to the living room. Now he understood: Carrie was having a party, and everyone had thought he was a guest.

He stood there in the marbled entryway, an elegantly decorated tree in the corner another sign the Christmas season was here. Uncertain what to do now, he wanted to tell the maid he would return another time, but she had already gone. He stood there feeling foolish and out of place.

Just as he started back to the door, he heard Carrie call his name.

Puzzled surprise mixed with worry flitted across her face as she advanced, a glass of champagne in her hand. She carefully drew the living room door partially closed, shutting off the murmur of voices and laughter. “How…What are you doing here? What a pleasant surprise. How are you?”

“I’m fine.” He stood solemnly staring at her, taking in the elegant appearance so different from what she had worn at the ranch, and not knowing where to begin.

“Is your father all right?” The words tumbled out like a child’s blocks falling.

“My father,” Jake repeated as if trying the word out for size. The question seemed so formal, such a strange way for Carrie to be asking about a man she had lived with for a time, slept with, supposedly loved. “Yeah.”

And then it hit him, either he must do what he had come to do or leave it, and there was no point in turning back now. He had nothing to lose. He was face to face with her, and she was waiting for some word, some reason for his being there.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t know you had a party on. I…I saw Paige in Philadelphia, and she suggested I come before heading back. She didn’t say you had a party on today.”

“She probably forgot. She has so much to deal with these days.” There was a moment’s hesitation. “Well, I’m so glad you did come,” Carrie began, going into hostess mode. “Can I get you a drink, something to eat? Please join us. It’s just a little luncheon party for the launch of my new book.”

“I guess you’re busy then.” He screwed up his face. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come. I thought we could talk for a minute.”

And then he could see the light going on, the realization washing over her. “Of course we can talk. Come with me.”

He followed her down a hallway to what appeared to be her study. Overlooking the park and all in white, it had a calming effect on him as it no doubt did on her when she worked.

When she waved at a chair for him to sit, Jake declined with a shake of his head. “I won’t be long. I don’t want to keep you from your guests,” he said, spotting a stack of books on her desk. Dances of the Heart the cover read, by Carrie Bennett.

“Is your father all right?” she asked again, distinct concern in her voice now. “Did he send you?”

“No. No, he didn’t send me. Fact is, he doesn’t even know I’m here. I came up to check out some stallions at a farm in Pennsylvania and went on to Philly to see Paige while I was there. It was really her idea I come—though I have to say I thought it was a good idea, until I got here.” His mouth curved into a small smile. “Dad would probably shoot me if he knew. Well, maybe not but, you know, he won’t like me meddling in his love life.”

Carrie put down the glass of champagne she’d been holding and took a breath. “His love life,” she repeated softly. Her gaze fled to the window as it rattled slightly in a gust of wind. “Did you…I mean, I know you cleared up everything with him in the end. You told him about Robbie and what you had done and all…all of that. He wrote—”

“He did? He didn’t tell me.” Jake sucked in air. “Did you reply?”

“No. No, I didn’t.”

“Did you know what Ty had done—after you left, I mean. After Alamo?”

“Paige told me. She kept me posted you were recovering, were well. And then I knew you had seen her in Bandera.” Carrie rested a hand on the desk as if for support, a look of regret crowding her features. “Listen, Jake, I’m sorry I butted in. I mean, I know you asked me to help that night at the ranch, but it wasn’t my business to do so, and I apologize for that. But things were said—by Ray and me, both of us—and it just came out. I truly am sorry for that.”

He decided to let it all be; this wasn’t about him, it was about Carrie and his father. “Well, you paved the way for me, didn’t you? I mean, there was no turning back.” As she started to protest and apologize again, he put up a hand. “Don’t get me wrong, Carrie, I was grateful. Paige kept telling me I had to tell Dad the whole story, but it just kept going on until you stopped it. It was getting worse if anything, what with Alamo being killed. I was just a coward, I guess. I couldn’t face hurting him, not the way he felt about Robbie, not when he told me, as he had, how I had made him proud. He wasn’t pleased I’d done what I’d done, that I’d let that bastard Ty threaten me into things. That sure as hell didn’t make him proud. But I think we understand each other better now, and I think he respects me for finally telling him everything. Well, sort of respects me. He did say if I ever did anything like that again he’d run me off the property for good, but it won’t happen anyway.” He gave Carrie a sheepish smile.

“Well, I’m glad to hear all that, Jake.” She glanced at the pile of books on her desk. “Is…is he well—Ray? How is he?”

“Misses you like anything. But he’s not drinking if that’s what you want to know. He had one great binge when you left, smashed a few things and then sobered up.”

“Well, then, he worked me out of his system,” Carrie said.

“No, no he hasn’t worked you out of his system. I can see it in his face. He’s been real busy this past autumn, but I can see how he misses you. It’s like a part of him is gone. I told him if he drank, you sure as hell wouldn’t come back and he had better be sober the day you walked on in the door.”

There were tears sneaking down Carrie’s face. Jake pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her but she reached for a tissue from a box on her desk, plucking out one to dab at her cheek.

“Perhaps you should know we said some awful things to each other, terrible things. Maybe, in the end, we were too honest with one another.”

“Well, at least you got everything off your chest. A lot of couples go for years letting things stew, letting things fester. Then they get divorced because of it, because they never cleared the air.” He tried to keep the note of pleading out of his voice now, but he was exasperated with the two elders. “They’re divorced now, you know,” he went on. “It’s final at last. Mom took his last offer and moved up to Wyoming with this guy. I don’t know why she thinks it’ll be better there, or she’ll be happier there, but I hope she is.”

Carrie reached out as if to comfort him, then drew her hand back.

There was a knock on the door, and a man, about Carrie’s age and well-dressed, smart silk tie gleaming from an expensive shirt and suit, took a step inside the door. “Carrie? Everyone’s waiting. You coming back soon?”

“I’ll be back in a moment,” she replied. “Do you want to join us?” she asked Jake, as the man left. “Come have a drink. Have you had lunch?”

He shook his head. “You seeing someone else now then?” His voice was almost truculent, disappointed.

Carrie smiled. “No. He’s my agent, Jake.” She nodded to the stack of books and picked one up. “Will you give this to Ray for me?”

She handed it to him and he flipped through, suddenly stopping near the front. “‘To Ray Ryder. No one does the Texas Two Step like you,’” he read. He looked up at her, perplexed and uncertain now. “You dedicated it to Dad. Is it about the two of you then?”

“No. Though I’m sure he may recognize a few scenes.” She guided him back to the front lobby and motioned to the maid for his coat. “Tell him…tell him I’d like to know he’s well from time to time. Tell him I’m sorry. For any pain I caused. I’m sorry.”

Jake struggled into his coat, slipping the book into a pocket. “I’m sure he’s sorry too, Carrie. Real sure.”

****

Ray sat with the book in his lap, his reading glasses hanging by one arm out of his shirt pocket, his phone in his hand. This was going to be the only way, a start perhaps—or an ending, he wasn’t sure which. If he phoned her, if he Skyped, it was far too invasive at this stage, after so many weeks. Another email was at the other end of the scale; she hadn’t answered the first, so why would she answer the second? It had to be this or nothing, a text, short and sweet, that would appear on her screen, that she could delete or answer as she chose.

No, she wouldn’t answer. That was a fact. He would have to make the chase.

He could beg her to come back, ask to see her, ask if he could go to New York to discuss things, but none of that made sense now. No, it had to be something basic, a beginning, something he could perhaps build on the way he had with the phone calls when she and Paige had first left Texas.

In some ways, Carrie had made the first step by dedicating the book to him and asking after him. On the other hand, if Jake hadn’t gone to see her, would she have sent him a copy?

Ray reflected on this; did Carrie leave those words in print for him to discover, thinking he might just buy the book at some stage? Or would she have sent it? With a note? Without a note? He could ruminate on that for hours but it would get him nowhere.

The early winter light was filtering in, the evenings long past drawing in, days shortened now to the briefest of warm hours. A pervasive chill combined with just sitting for a while made Ray consider getting up and turning on the heat. The temperature had struggled up to sixty earlier today, but he figured a cold night was ahead. The rumble of Jake’s Chevy coming down the lane signaled he had to finally make up his mind.

He slowly tapped in the brief message:

Thanks so much for the dedication. It meant a lot. I hope you and Paige have a merry Xmas. Miss you, Ray.