Gus looked out at the rolling fields and woods at the edge of the farm proper, temporarily called Morgan’s Run East. Richard Morgan claimed the name was temporary only until they could come up with a better one. They were busy with hiring, and scouts were out searching for horses. Stella had arrived the day after Gus had, and she was settling in. He spent as much time as he could with her.
Jesus, I miss you, Lynn, he mused, every thought in his downtime about her and the kids. He spoke to Dulcie and Cal at least twice a day and had called Lynn several times. Their conversations had been subdued. The distance had shaken him, and he ached for her in his arms and the kids on his lap. He often read to them at night on FaceTime, but it wasn’t the same. Every trip to Wyoming ended in tears.
After a month in Massachusetts with two trips home for weekends with the kids, he had settled into a routine, but progress was slow going. Richard Morgan, while a great guy, was not his brother or Spark. He took forever to make decisions, and there were also his kids, who were jockeying for positions in this brand-new venture. Richard Junior and his sister, Gail, both worked for their dad. Richard had gone to Wharton and ran the business end of things for the farm and a host of other Morgan Inc. businesses. He and Gail oversaw the day-to-day operations, but she was a people person, he was not. Weezie was in grad school for social work at Boston University, but had taken a break claiming she wanted to work with the horses and the mustang program. Her father had not yet agreed to this, but it was impossible to ignore her rapport with all animals.
The farm and its two hundred acres included a large farmhouse, two smaller cottages, several barns, and smaller outbuildings. Workers were toiling round the clock constructing a state-of-the-art stables, indoor riding center, and two racetracks. The main farmhouse had been gutted, and Richard Morgan Senior was living in a rented house nearby during the remodel, due to be completed by early September. After the farmhouse and stables projects, he intended to renovate or build cottages for employees of the farm. Unmarried, Richard Junior rented a small house in nearby Horseshoe Crab Cove and had expressed no interest in living on the property. Gail and Weezie lived with their dad. Wolfie, who worked part-time at the farm, lived an hour away in Boston, and the rest of the eight Morgan siblings lived elsewhere.
Gus rented a studio apartment from Lucy Winthrop Brennan, Helen’s daughter, who lived in Somers, the next town to the north of Horseshoe Crab Cove. Her mother lived in the Cove. Gus’s apartment was above the Brennans’ garage and had a small kitchenette and bathroom. It was a beautiful property and had apparently been Lucy’s ex-husband’s family home. Her divorce agreement stipulated that once Amy, her youngest, left for college, she would give up the house. Rob, her ex, hadn’t decided what to do with it. According to local gossip, he was still trying to win Lucy back. He rented a house in town and lived on and off with his girlfriend.
In the evenings, Lucy often invited Gus to the house for a drink or dinner, and she sometimes confided bits and pieces of her situation to him. Gus had met Rob Brennan several times, and, in his opinion, he wasn’t half good enough for Lucy. Also, it was clear that his employer, Richard Morgan, had taken a shine to her and had been over to the house several times for dinner. Lucy usually included Gus at these dinners because her teenagers, Robert and Amy, loved his company and were clearly still ambivalent about their mother’s suitor.
“Hey, Gus!” Weezie Morgan called, disturbing him from his reverie. “Penny for your thoughts.” Dressed in skintight jeans and a T-shirt two sizes too small, she sashayed up and climbed the fence next to him.
He shrugged. “Not worth a penny. Just checking on the progress over here,” he said, indicating the stables.
“If I had to guess, your thoughts were a bit farther west. Wanta come for a ride?”
“No, thanks.”
“You know, a bunch of us are going up the coast tonight, to the Narrows. There’s a great band playing. Wanta join us?”
He smiled. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
“Come on, you’ve gotta have fun sometimes. Must be so dull at the Brennans’.”
“Actually, I’m enjoying myself.”
“You’d enjoy yourself a lot more with me,” she said, moving closer, her arm grazing his.
“Listen, Weezie, you’re a terrific woman, but I’m your employee.”
“My dad’s employee. Just like me.”
“The thing is—”
“I know, I know, you’re in love with that day care lady, though heaven knows why.”
He opened his mouth to defend Lynn, but then stayed silent, turning to go. “See ya,” he called over his shoulder. “Have a good ride.”
He thought he heard her mutter, “Bitch,” but couldn’t be certain. No matter, he was not the least bit interested in spoiled Weezie Morgan or her kind of fun.
On impulse, he pulled out his phone. It was seven in the morning in the Valley, and he hoped he might catch her. “Hey,” she said, picking up after the first ring.
“Hey, yourself.”
“How’s it going?”
“Slow.”
Lynn swallowed, knowing she should tell him about the baby, but couldn’t. “Does that mean your time there will be extended?”
“Not too much, maybe through September, no longer.”
“How are the kids?” she asked, sitting down on a stool in the Cottage kitchen. She was doing early setup this morning because Polly had a doctor’s appointment.
“Good. They love being with my folks, but it’s tough to leave them.”
“You’ll all be together soon.”
“Yup. Lynn… I feel like we… You and I… Well, we left things sort of weirdly, and I’m sorry about that.”
“Everything happened so quickly. Us, then the job, the move, everything.” Including my pregnancy!
“Yeah, but I still feel like a shit. When are you coming east?”
“Two weeks.”
“Any chance of us meeting?”
“I’m going to be at my parents’ in Connecticut. It’s probably about two hours from you. We could meet halfway, if you have free time? Maybe the weekend of the sixteenth?”
“Shit, I’ll be in Wyoming. How about the next weekend?”
“I fly back that Saturday.”
“I could probably take a day or two during the week. Text me your dates, and I’ll work something out. I really want to see you.”
“Me too,” she said as Rusty stepped in and waved. “Gotta go. Take care of yourself.”
“You too.”
He slipped the phone into his pocket, smiling.