‡‡
“So? What did you think of the standing stone?” Cass asked when Jack met up with her in the kitchen. She was peering into the refrigerator at all of the leftover food from the wedding. None of the other women were in sight, and the rest of the men were still at their chores. No one had noticed Alice slamming the maze’s door in his face, so to speak.
Just when he’d thought he was making progress, she’d made it clear she wasn’t interested.
Although she’d sounded almost apologetic at the end.
Jack shrugged. “It’s a stone,” he said gruffly.
He couldn’t forget the way Alice had held out her hand and the way his heart had lifted as he stepped forward to take it. To be denied that contact, that connection with her, frustrated him more than he could say. He hadn’t pegged Alice as the kind of woman to torment a man. He’d seen plenty of cruelty in his career, sucked it up and kept moving without a second thought, but that outstretched hand just before she’d slammed the door in his face had cut him to the quick.
Would she come back to the house? He didn’t want to turn around and see. Instead, he busied himself hanging up his winter things.
“It’s a pretty special stone,” Cass said.
The door opened again, and Alice came inside. Jack straightened, turned and caught her eye. She lifted her brows, and he knew what question she meant to ask. Had he told Cass?
He shook his head no. She might want to play games, but he wasn’t interested. Wasn’t going to be the butt of her jokes.
Cass shut the refrigerator. “I’m going downstairs. I won’t need to cook for a week with all those leftovers, which is good because Wye and I are cleaning this house from the bottom up.” She headed for the basement. A moment later they could hear her talking to Wye.
Alice faced Jack. “I’ve never seen it do that before,” she told him. “The maze.”
Was that supposed to make him feel better—or worse? Jack shook his head impatiently. “The maze didn’t do anything. You did. Message received, Alice.”
She sucked in a breath. “You think I’m lying?”
“I don’t know what to think. I’m going to town. Should be some deliveries there for me. Gear I ordered for the surveillance system. You may not want me here, but I’ve still got a job to do.”
“Jack, I—” She didn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t pretend she wanted him, even for a minute, he thought.
“Be back in a while,” he said curtly and went back out the door.
Several hours later Jack’s pride was still bruised, but he’d recovered his sense of humor somewhat, and he was satisfied with the start he’d made on what would be a big job. He intended to have visuals on almost every part of the perimeter, just as Alice had said. He was rigging up motion detectors to control the start and stop of the video feeds. No sense in amassing hours and hours of footage of nothing.
There was a lot more to do, but if he was honest with himself, he was grateful for that. It kept his mind off his disastrous attempts to connect with Alice. On the other hand, working on the ranch brought up memories of his parents. His family’s ranch had been sold when they died and the money placed in trust for him. Some of it had been used for his education. The rest he had saved. He’d thought one day he would use it to purchase a ranch of his own.
He’d put that off, though. Year after year, he’d stayed in the military, as Richard had kept after him to join him in the intelligence world. He realized now he’d put off making a decision between the two possibilities for several reasons.
He’d always wanted to return to ranching, but that meant disappointing Richard. He hated to contemplate that after all the man had done for him. On the other hand, buying a ranch meant facing up to the fact he didn’t know how to run one. He’d been far too young when his parents were killed to have known anything about running a spread. He knew he could hire overseers and hands, or even work on somebody else’s spread for a time to learn the skills he needed, but it had been too much to face on his own. It had been easier to remain in the Army.
Getting sent on this particular mission was like being handed a pair of training wheels. The other men knew what they were doing. Alice and her sisters did, too. He wouldn’t have to start from scratch, wouldn’t have to try to oversee a bunch of men to do jobs that he didn’t know how to do himself.
The only problem was… his pride. When the task of setting up surveillance for the ranch was over, he would need to take his place beside the other men. And then would come a day of reckoning. He would have to admit that while he was pretty sure he still knew how to ride, he was far less certain he knew how to saddle a horse or care for the tack. He knew almost nothing about cattle, except for the most basic aspects of their care. He had repaired a fence or two with his father, but only in the way that a boy helps a man.
The truth was, he was worthless around a ranch. And he took pride in his competence.
He supposed he was going to have to face the truth, get over himself and learn what he needed to know. He owed that to Alice if he was going to be her husband.
Her husband.
That was a joke. So far his chances seemed slim to none. Alice didn’t even want to stay on the ranch. Could he stand a marriage like that, with him staying in Montana and her flying to California all the time? Would the camaraderie with the others make up for the lack of connection between them?
Jack couldn’t imagine it.
In a few days, the General would come home. His time was running out.
Landon would be here soon.
And Jack thought she hated him.
Alice wasn’t sure which of these situations was causing the ache in her gut. That sense of doom still haunted her. When she’d heard what had happened to the General, one part of her had been relieved to know the worst. He was alive. He would heal, that’s what Jack had said. So why couldn’t she shake the feeling that disaster still lurked around every corner?
The disaster had already happened.
Back in her workshop, Alice surveyed the three gowns she’d slipped onto dressmaker dummies in preparation for Landon’s arrival. Was she feeling this way because she was afraid they weren’t up to snuff? Was she going to botch this chance for a dream job?
Or was it Jack’s insistence that she was lying that was the problem? If the man the General had sent to marry her didn’t even believe in her abilities, what kind of marriage would theirs be?
Alice stopped herself. Just because the General had sent Jack didn’t mean she had to marry him, tradition be damned. She might have seen Jack waiting at the altar in one of her visions, but that didn’t mean anything conclusive. Maybe he would marry someone else.
She couldn’t say why that caused her stomach to twist. She barely knew Jack. Handsome features and determination were too little to go on when it came to making a good choice. One thing tugged at her, though—his frustration at being blocked from entering the maze.
Alice figured that many men would have been furious at being barred from entering. Some might have threatened her. Others might have pushed through and damaged the hedge. She never could be with a man like that.
Still others might have given her the silent treatment, made her pay for the perceived slight.
Jack hadn’t done any of that. He’d been frustrated—and hurt, if her suspicions were correct—and he’d left for town abruptly afterward, but she’d sensed his hurt outweighed his anger. There was something in Jack. Something… lonely.
She understood that.
Maybe some people would think loneliness was impossible when you shared a ranch with four sisters and four brothers-in-law, but they would be wrong. All her life Alice had been a little different from everyone else. She’d always had to bite her tongue. Keep her knowledge to herself. Or risk the consequences. People didn’t really want to know the future—especially not in shards and pieces the way it was transmitted to her.
She wished she’d done a better job explaining things to Jack.
He was running his errands, though, and she didn’t have time to chase after him. Landon was coming on Saturday, and she had a lot of work to do.
Alice had spent long evenings perched on top of the refrigerator, sketchbook in hand, daydreaming about balls and beaus. She loved beautiful things and relished the chance to work with such splendid fabric and trimmings. This was a costume-maker’s dream. She didn’t know what she’d do if she lost the contract.
She wasn’t sure what she’d do if she won it, either, though. She’d have to leave Two Willows—for a while. Some of the prep work could be done here in Chance Creek, but there’d be countless fittings for the cast. Countless alterations. She’d be expected on site for the filming, and that could take many months.
Alice stilled a qualm. She’d cross that bridge when she came to it. All four of her sisters would remain on the ranch indefinitely. Who cared if she left once in a while?
Wasn’t she allowed a life, too?
When she looked out the window again some time later, Jack had just pulled up and parked his truck. When he climbed out, he paused for a minute, scanning the ranch. What was he doing now? Was he looking for someone?
For her?
She knew it was impolite to watch him, but she couldn’t stop, and when he headed off not toward the house but for Sadie’s snow-covered garden, Alice craned her neck to follow his progress.
Suddenly she knew his destination.
The hedge maze.
She grabbed her coat and hurried down the steps, bursting out of the carriage house in time to see him try to step inside it.
Just as before, the entrance vanished, and a wall of shrubbery confronted him.
Alice blinked.
She had no idea how it was doing that.
Jack’s shoulders slumped. He waited a moment, but the maze didn’t alter, and finally he turned around.
Alice scurried back into the doorway. Jack was the kind of man who wouldn’t want her seeing him defeated. He was far more human than she’d given him credit for being at first. He wasn’t cold and calculating at all.
She waited until he’d disappeared into the house—then quickly slipped back into her workshop.
It was late again when she finally gave up for the night, locked the carriage house and let herself quietly into the main house.
Upstairs, she got ready for bed quickly in the hall bathroom and had just made it to her room, stripped and gotten under her covers when a quiet knock sounded on her door.
“Come in.” She was pretty sure who it was.
“You knocked again,” Jack said, coming into the room and shutting the door.
“No, I didn’t, and you know it.”
“I don’t know it, because you never demonstrated your salacious purposes knock. I didn’t want to leave you hanging.”
He was only wearing sweatpants, his chest and feet bare. Jack looked cold; they turned the heat down at night to save energy. Alice knew she should send him packing, but it was good to talk to someone after so many hours alone in her studio.
“Come here.” She patted the bed, and when Jack sat down, she pulled the afghan from the bottom of her bed and handed it to him, still holding her covers close for modesty. She sat back against the headboard and tucked them around her. Jack wrapped the afghan around his shoulders. “Tell me one thing I don’t know about you, Jack Sanders.”
Jack thought a moment. “I can speak Mandarin. And Arabic.”
“Show me.”
He said something and then repeated it again. Alice had heard enough of both languages on television to know he’d switched from one to the other. “What did you say?”
“Home is where the heart is.” He shrugged. “Just the first thing that came to mind.”
Alice considered his silhouette in the dark. She appreciated having this moment to look at him without the glare of daylight making her scrutiny obvious. He was a powerfully built man, but there was a stillness at the core of him she found unusual. “Do you miss your home?”
“I’ve been gone a long, long time. The thought of it doesn’t hurt. It’s more like a dull ache. I miss the dust,” he admitted. “The heat. The smell of the place. Its essence, I guess you could say.”
“That’s what I would feel like if I left Two Willows.”
“But you don’t have to.”
“No.” But she’d have to spend a lot of time in Hollywood to fulfill this contract if she got it. If that job led to another one, who knew when she’d be back. She tried to picture herself walking down city streets, going out clubbing with the A-list, shopping in pricey boutiques. It was a silly train of thought. Even in Hollywood, she’d just be the costume designer. No big deal at all.
Would she be lonely?
She knew a few people from previous work she’d done, but only to speak to on the phone. They weren’t friends. It would be a whole new world.
Did she want a whole new world?
“You’re thinking,” Jack said.
“Always.”
He took her hand, and to her surprise she let him. Jack’s fingers were warm and dry. Masculine. She had the sense of strength held in check. “After everything I’ve seen, Two Willows is paradise.”
“Even in November?” Things were pretty bleak here in November.
“The house is warm, the food is delicious, the company is pretty wonderful.” He squeezed her hand.
“You barely know me,” she reminded him.
“You’re right. But I like what I’ve seen so far.”
It would be a nice compliment if he hadn’t previously dismissed what he’d seen of her abilities so far. “Like what?” she asked lightly, thinking he would remark on her looks, as if they represented anything about her.
“I like the way you care about details. I like the way you stick to something to get it just right. I’m like that, too, and it frustrates me when other people do things haphazardly.”
She took this in. He’d been watching her.
“I like the way you treat Tabitha.”
“My cat?” She tugged the blankets higher with her free hand. That was a strange thing to focus on.
“You treat her as if… you love her.”
“I do love her.” She wondered why he sounded surprised by it.
“Not everyone is open like that.”
Alice wasn’t sure what he meant, but perhaps he was alluding to some people’s callousness around animals. “I think we should treat the living things around us as if they mean something.”
“I do, too.”
“Justice is important to you,” she said.
“Isn’t it to everyone?” he countered.
Alice tilted her head against the headboard. She needed sleep, but she liked these nocturnal conversations. She appreciated that Jack hadn’t made a move on her, even though a tiny part of her couldn’t help wishing he would. He was handsome. Kind to cats. She let her fingers brush the inside of his palm.
Jack didn’t move, but she felt him go on alert. They sat like that a moment.
“Alice—”
She waited for him to go on, but he didn’t.
He squeezed her hand again and stood up. “I’ll let you get some sleep.”
Her heart sank. Had she put him off? Had she been misreading this situation all this time—
When he bent down and kissed the top of her head, Alice sucked in a breath, and her heart soared again.
“Good night,” he said.
“Night.”
As she snuggled down under her blankets, Alice knew she wouldn’t sleep for ages.
“How’s Montana?” Richard asked several days later when Jack took his call. He’d been working on the surveillance system and had come back to the house for a break. He was alone in the kitchen for the moment and leaned against the counter to talk. “You going to tell me about this mission you’re on?” Richard’s tone told Jack he didn’t believe his story for a minute. Jack wasn’t sure he believed it either, but here he was on a ranch, chasing a woman who claimed to have magical powers, dealing with hedges that moved.
“Montana’s great,” Jack said heartily.
“And…?”
“Can’t tell you more than that. Sorry, Pop.” Jack had called his biological father “Dad” and his mother “Mom.” He’d appreciated it more than he could put into words that Richard and Janet had never tried to co-opt the names when they adopted him. Richard had been Pop and Janet had been Ma. He didn’t care if he sounded old-fashioned when he addressed them; it allowed him to keep his memory of his parents sharper in his mind.
“I had another reason for calling, anyhow,” Richard said. “There’s an opening coming up in the department. Wondered if I should put your name in. They’d be willing to work with you if they knew you were interested. We’re always looking for a few good men.”
Jack swallowed. This was the only place he disagreed with Richard. “I’m not ready for that,” he said.
“Not ready? Or not interested at all?”
“Are we going to do this now?” Jack asked.
“Not if you don’t want to,” Richard answered evenly, “but I’d appreciate an answer soon.”
“You’ll get one. This mission—it may lead to an opportunity.”
“In Montana?”
Jack could almost picture Richard in his office. He’d be leaned back in his chair, his feet crossed, resting on his desk. He’d probably be shaking his head, too. Jack had spent plenty of time in that office growing up, doing his homework while Richard took care of business, stopping when Richard came to show him something.
“Look at this.” He’d put a photograph in front of Jack, or a data printout, or a list of numbers. “What do you recognize? What’s out of place?”
What’s out of place?
It was a mantra now. Jack scanned his surroundings out of habit, like every other person with a military background, but his gaze went even deeper. His mind sorted through information, lists, articles he’d read, everything he’d stored in the computer that was his mind. He spotted the incongruities. He figured out the patterns.
Every time he’d done it back then, his pop had smiled. “That’s it. I was right about you.”
It was meant to be praise, but every time Richard had uttered the sentence, Jack had wondered what would happen if his pop had been wrong about him. If Jack hadn’t been the same kind of savant Richard was when it came to spotting clues.
Would Richard and Janet send him back to New Mexico? Would he have to live alone in the empty house where his parents had been murdered? Alone with the wind and the fading footsteps of gunmen—
Jack wrenched himself back to the present. When he was seven, he’d been afraid his return to that empty ranch was imminent, and he’d applied himself to Richard’s teachings as if his life depended on it. He’d thought it had.
Soon enough he’d realized that wasn’t the case.
“Yeah,” he made himself say into the phone. “In Montana. Could be something good for me.”
Richard hesitated. “Jack—you can’t go back, you know. You can only move forward. You weren’t meant to be a rancher. That mind of yours—”
It was another of Richard’s frequent themes. “I know I can’t go back,” Jack said. He wasn’t looking to move back. He hoped to move forward.
Loud voices approaching warned him he wouldn’t be alone long. Sure enough, the other men burst into the kitchen, all talking at once. They seemed in high spirits, and Jack told Richard, “Gotta go. Talk soon.” He pocketed his phone. “What’s going on?”
“Taking a break. Need to warm up; it’s cold out there today,” Connor said. He turned back to Brian. “We did it there once, you know. Sadie and me.”
“Had sex? In the maze? Hell,” Brian said. “Cass and I did, too. Our first time.”
“Ours, too,” Connor guffawed. “What are the chances?”
Hunter was looking green. Connor spotted him. Scowled. “You, too?”
Hunter just nodded and kept going out of the room.
“Wonder about Logan and Lena,” Connor said, watching him go.
“We know they did. Remember that scream?” Brian asked.
Connor’s face split into a grin. “Lena yelled like the house was on fire,” he told Jack. “We all came running out to see what was the matter. They were in the maze. Logan said everything was fine.”
“Made it clear he didn’t want company, either.” Brian chuckled. “Was a damn cold night. I’ll bet there was contact between snow and skin.”
“Maybe,” Connor agreed. He peered out the window at the high walls of the hedge. “Guess if you want to make the magic happen with Alice, you should try in there.” He elbowed Jack. “Glad I was courting Sadie in the summertime. Brr! Is that coffee ready yet?” He crossed to hover by Brian, who was fiddling with the machine.
“Not yet. Jack, how’s that security system coming?”
“It’s coming,” Jack said slowly. He was still processing everything the other men had said. They’d all made love to their wives in the maze? Before their wives were their wives? Connor said he had his first time with Sadie in there. So had Brian. Had that been the case for all of them?
If so, what did that mean for him? He looked at the maze’s implacable walls. The entrance stood wide open now, but what would happen if he approached it again?
And how was the damn thing moving? Was it one of Alice’s tricks? She was doing a good job pretending she knew nothing about it, but that didn’t make sense.
Too many questions. Not enough answers.
“Jack, I need to fix a bit of fencing in the north pasture,” Brian went on. “Thought you could give me a hand with that this week sometime. But if you’re busy—”
“I’ll be busy for a while,” Jack said shortly, distracted by this new problem. He didn’t know how to fix fences.
“All right.” Brian nodded. “I’ll find someone else then.”
I’m going to get in there, Jack told himself, still looking at the maze. I’m going to get in there, and I’m going to figure out how Alice makes it move.
And then I’m going to marry her—and convince her to stay right here.
“Will’s back,” Cass said that afternoon, looking out the kitchen window.
“Where?” Wyoming joined her.
Alice, just grabbing an apple from the fridge, shut the door and came to look, too. The man had pulled up in a truck outside and was unloading gear. He turned, saw them and waved.
Wyoming ducked, then covered her face in her hands as she crouched by the cabinets. “What am I doing?”
“Flirting with a cute guy. Now stand up and pull yourself together,” Cass ordered.
Wyoming did so and busied herself wiping an already clean counter while Cass went to open the door and let Will in.
“Good afternoon. Sure is a beautiful day,” Will said, looking at Wyoming.
“Sure is,” Wyoming said and blushed.
“It’s a freezing day.” Cass shook her head at them.
“The kind of freezing day that makes you think about cozying up to a fire with your best girl,” Will said.
Those two needed to get a room, Alice thought grumpily.
“Ladies, I’m going to have to turn the water off when I work on those pipes. You going to be okay without it for a while?”
“I’ll be in my workshop,” Alice said. She’d been plagued by that doomed feeling again all morning, and she was beginning to think that no matter how much work she put into her dresses, she’d never get them right. Why was she even trying for this contract? Lord knew there had to be so many other designers far more talented than her.
“I’ll tell the others, and we’ll join you there,” Cass said to her. “After we get Will all settled in. Right, Wye?”
“Uh… right.”
Alice left them to it. Cass was becoming as ardent a matchmaker as the General was.
Once in her studio, she quickly lost herself in her work. It was down to getting the details exactly right. When Cass and Wyoming came in a while later, letting Tabitha in with them, she blinked, realizing she’d forgotten everything else while she’d been buried in her work.
“That’s beautiful, Alice. You’ll definitely get the job,” Cass said when she sat down wearily in the chair across the worktable from where Alice was fixing one of the puffed sleeves of a light blue gown that hung on a dressmaker’s dummy, a hoopskirt in place so she could see it the way it would ultimately be worn. This was the fanciest of the three dresses she was attempting.
“It really is something,” Wyoming said. “But then everything you make is gorgeous.”
“I hope so.” She figured she might as well tell them the news. “Landon will be here in three days.”
“Will you be ready?” Cass lay a hand on her belly. She was nearly five months pregnant now, her stomach slightly rounded.
“You should rest more,” Alice told her sister, but that was like telling a tumbleweed not to roll.
“I’m trying. There’s so much to do. By the way, we’re talking about making Jo’s old room the nursery.”
“That’s a good idea.” Alice kept making tiny stitches. The work was painstaking, and she’d been at it long enough she thought her eyes would cross.
“Do you think you’ll have children someday?”
Alice dropped the fabric in her lap. “Children?” She closed her eyes as a vision swooped over her. A baby—she couldn’t say whose—nestled in her arms. Her sisters around her—
“Alice?” Cass reached over to touch her. “You okay?”
Alice nodded. “The usual.” She met Cass’s gaze. “I saw a baby. I don’t know if it was mine or someone else’s,” she added as Cass brightened. “Could have been yours.”
“Or yours.”
“I’m not having babies any time soon.” And she wasn’t ready to think about them today. She needed to finish these dresses. Alice got back to work again.
“What do you think about Jack?” Cass pretended to be engrossed in a detail of the dress hanging on the dummy, but Alice hadn’t been born yesterday.
“I’m not marrying him.” Her heart gave a little throb as she said the words, but she ignored it.
“You really think the General got it wrong this time?” Cass didn’t look convinced.
“Just because he got it right four times doesn’t mean he’s right again.” She bent close to the gown and continued making tiny stitches.
“I have to agree with her,” Wye said acidly.
“It’s just—Jack seems kind of right for you. He’s smart and dedicated, and pretty cute,” Cass pointed out.
“We’ve only known him since Saturday,” Alice said.
“But the General sent him, like he sent all the others.” Cass shrugged.
“Oh, my god, Cass,” Wyoming broke in. “Would you listen to yourself?”
“The General sending him is what makes him wrong for me,” Alice said. She took another two stitches, but it was difficult to concentrate with Cass trying to marry her off.
Cass just smiled. “Every one of us has thought that about the man the General sent, and every one of us was wrong.”
“You aren’t listening to me, are you?” Wye asked. “It’s like I’m not here.”
“I’m not wrong.” But Alice couldn’t help sighing.
“You like him,” Cass asserted.
“So what if I do? I still can’t marry him. I can’t have every choice made for me ahead of time. I can’t stand it.”
“Maybe that’s the explanation,” Wye said. “Maybe I’m not really here at all. Maybe someone’s slipped something funny in my drink, and this is all some strange, psychedelic dream. It would explain a lot.” She looked at the mug of tea she’d carried out from the house.
“You don’t see everything, do you?” Cass asked Alice. “You said yourself recently you can’t see your own future right now. You said it was getting too close. So if you fall for Jack, it’s you that’s doing it.”
“Maybe the General should send me a husband,” Wye said exasperatedly. “I could be a test case. See if his luck extends to people outside the family.”
Cass gave her a hug, and Alice was glad Wye had finally succeeded in distracting her. Cass simply didn’t understand.
Sadie came in, shrugged out of her coat and crossed the room to join them. “What’s going on? Alice, this gown is gorgeous. I want one.”
“I know, right?” Wye said to her. “In the meantime, try the tea. It’s pretty trippy.” She took a long sip from her mug and grinned. Cass chuckled, and even Alice had to smile, despite her irritation.
“You are really here, I’m afraid, even if we aren’t paying attention to you,” she told Wye. “And I don’t think the General is in any shape to send anyone husbands right now.”
“Oh well.” Wye looked at her tea philosophically. “I guess you ladies are better than drugs.”
“What is she talking about?” Sadie asked Cass.
“Wye thinks we’re weird,” Cass said.
“She always thinks we’re weird,” Sadie said. “This dress is really something.” She stepped closer to it and examined the bodice.
“Alice is hitting the big time,” Cass said with a sigh. “Meanwhile, I’m getting fat.”
“You’re not fat,” Sadie said.
“Jo said I could use her old bedroom for a nursery—if no one else minds.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Alice said. “But what about you, Sadie? What will you do when you get pregnant?”
“We’re not having kids—yet. Maybe next year,” Sadie said. “For now, Connor and I plan to move into Jo and Hunter’s little house when they build their bigger one. We’ll live there and have some privacy until we’re ready to start our family. That will give the rest of you more space in the house.”
“It will feel so strange if everyone moves out,” Cass said.
“We’ll still be close by,” Sadie said. “Alice, where will you and Jack live? How many kids are you going to have? I want two, I think.”
Alice felt a chill, a draft coming from one of the old arched windows. Would she ever have children? Was it fair to take a chance of burdening one with the “gift” Amelia had passed down to her? “I have no idea what the future will bring,” she said primly.
Sadie rolled her eyes.
“What’s going on? Are you all throwing a party without me?” Jo asked when she came in. Champ and Isobel, her McNab breeding dogs, followed her, their nails clicking on the wooden floor. The dogs came to check out Tabitha, who got to her feet, arched her back and puffed up her fur to make herself look big. Getting the message, Champ and Isobel went to explore, and Tabitha settled down again.
“We’re just hanging out.” Cass passed a piece of cloth to Wyoming. “That color would look good on you, don’t you think?”
“Maybe.”
“We’re grilling Alice about Jack,” Sadie said.
“He’s cute,” Jo said. “Not as cute as Hunter, but not bad. When’s the wedding?”
“I met him four days ago!” Alice struggled to finish the puffed sleeve as Jo admired the gown hanging on the dummy.
“I think you should wear this to your wedding,” Jo said.
“She has to wear Mom’s dress, like everyone else,” Cass pronounced.
Suddenly Alice couldn’t take it anymore. All these traditions—these foregone conclusions—were crushing the air out of her lungs. She put down her needle. “I’m going for a walk.” She crossed the room, grabbed her coat and gloves, and clattered down the stairs to the door.
Outside, she pulled great gulping breaths into her lungs until she satisfied herself she wasn’t being suffocated. She’d never felt so hemmed in before. Was it Jack’s presence triggering this? Or the General’s imminent arrival?
She stumbled to a stop when she caught sight of Jack near the entrance to the maze, charging toward it and then backpedaling just as quickly over and over again. She nearly groaned when she realized what he was doing. Each time he rushed forward, it closed, presenting an unbroken wall of green. Each time he moved back, it opened again.
“Jack!”
He was going to break the maze if he kept that up.
Jack reared around, spotted her and came to an abrupt halt. “I was just—” he began when she came near.
“I know what you were doing.” Maybe she could kill two birds with one stone. Get Jack away from the maze and herself out of reach of everyone else. “Come on; we’re going on a ride.” She grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the stable, afraid one or more of her sisters would follow and deter them. She needed air, motion—a good gallop, but they wouldn’t get that today. Too much snow; they’d have to stick to the nearby tracks that wound through the ranch.
Jack followed her without a word. In the stable, she saddled Priscilla, her usual mount, then led out Button. She was surprised that Jack didn’t pitch in when she saddled Button. She noticed he stuck close, watching everything she did until she wondered if this was some kind of test.
If it was, it seemed she’d passed. After they led their horses out into the wintry air, Jack was quick to mount. A few minutes later, she looked back to find him smiling broadly. Her chest tightened. So did her hands on the reins. Jack was something to see.
“You look happy.”
“It’s been way too long,” he called back.
“Really? How long?” Alice felt her irritation slip away. Out here, the wind in her face, she could breathe easily. Nothing about this ride seemed preordained.
He was quiet so long she thought he wouldn’t answer. “Twenty-five years.”
Alice straightened in her saddle. “That is a long time. You’re doing really well.” A dozen other questions came to mind, but she didn’t want to be rude. All the other men the General had sent home were experienced with ranching. They’d taken to the work like old hands.
Was that why Jack hadn’t saddled his own horse? She did the math in her head; he’d have been quite young the last time he’d ridden. She kept going, keeping a slow pace. Riding in snow could be dangerous, and she wanted to give Priscilla time to pick out a safe trail. Wanted to give Jack time to find his seat again, too.
“Grew up in the saddle until then. I was born on a spread twice this big in New Mexico. Don’t mean to brag,” he added with a sheepish smile. “Just stating facts.”
“Your parents threw in the towel?”
He was quiet again. “They… died.”
The vision that hit her nearly knocked Alice off her horse. She couldn’t tell where she was seeing the action from—somewhere down low. Closed in. Under a bed? From this vantage point she couldn’t make out much. A wooden floor. The edge of a blanket. Footsteps.
Gunfire.
A burst of it. A scream. Another burst that cut off all sound.
“Alice! Alice? What’s going on?” A strong arm just caught her before she slid off Priscilla. “Alice?”
She blinked, caught her breath and pushed Jack away, resettling herself in the saddle as Priscilla sidestepped and danced. She needed space. Room to clear her head of the vision.
“Easy,” she told the mare. “Easy now.” She was talking as much to herself as to the horse.
“What happened?” Jack pressed her.
She passed a hand over her face, rubbing away what she’d seen. “You were under the bed when they were killed. You… heard everything.”
Jack scowled and busied himself getting Button under control. His gelding was sidestepping, too, jittery at their unexpected behavior. “Who told you that?”
“No one.” Alice shrugged. “I… saw it.”
He looked away, his jaw tight. She saw indecision and something else on his face.
Sorrow.
“You don’t believe me.”
“Come on, Alice. How could I? I’m not some ignorant, backwoods hick. You can’t magically know things. That’s not real.”
Alice winced, then scolded herself. She was used to denial. She didn’t blame people for not believing her. It was different with Jack, though.
She wanted him to believe.