“DON’T GET YOUR HOPES UP.” Sawyer McCord flashed a smile. “Today horse handling isn’t my best skill.” The next morning Hadley had driven over to examine the gelding at the Circle H. Sawyer, on his day off from the medical clinic in town, was in full rancher mode, wearing jeans and a checkered shirt with pearl buttons. It was before 10:00 a.m. but his clothes were already streaked with grime. “Took a hoof in the gut before dawn. Olivia’s horse Blue has a few more kinks to work out.”
“Other people have good things to say about him, but I also heard you’ve trained a nice gelding that could make a good cow pony for Clara’s place.” Squinting into the sun, Hadley took in the neat barn and corral, the pastureland farther off. “Can’t say her ranch is near as successful as this one, even with you all running bison, not cows here.”
“I leave those devils to my grandfather and Logan now.” Sawyer explained that he’d begun to buy Angus instead and had a good-sized herd already.
Hadley envied him, but he wasn’t here to make himself feel bad. “The McMann ranch amounts to a start-up business at this point. Our hay’s growing well and I’ve got a decent sorrel, but I need another horse for the cowhand I hired.”
“Who’s that?”
“Cory Jennings. Little more than a kid but a fair hand. Ex-rodeo.”
Sawyer scratched his forehead. “Name’s not familiar, but I don’t know as many people in Farrier or in the county as I do in Barren. Is he from around here?”
“Texas, he says. Cory’s not much of a talker, at least about himself.”
“So what are you looking for?” Sawyer walked toward the nearby corral where half a dozen horses were dozing on their feet. “The gelding you heard about is sound, sure-footed, but has some moodiness.” He pointed at a large dun-colored horse. “Prefers to take his time and do things his way. Can make the ride interesting. You might consider instead the mare we picked up near KC on a tip from Nell Ransom’s father, who runs a string of tack shops over there.”
“What’s she like?”
Sawyer grinned. “Settled down some since she married Cooper.”
“I meant the mare,” Hadley said with a groan for the too-obvious joke. Nell had been a tough cowgirl and fiercely independent before her husband, and love, helped mellow her a bit.
“Couldn’t resist. The mare’s smaller than the gelding. Good conformation. Pretty nice bloodlines, and her gaits are like sitting in a rocking chair. Got some Tennessee walker in her.”
“Let’s check out the two of them.”
The bay mare was a sweetie. Covering ground on her back would be a pleasure, but by the time he dismounted at the barn after a twenty-minute ride on each horse, Hadley knew which one he wanted to buy.
“You’re kidding,” Sawyer said, taking the reins from Hadley. “This mare’s a bargain. Olivia wanted to charge more.”
“If Cory doesn’t take to the gelding, I’ll ride him myself. Maybe one stubborn cuss should fight with another.” He gazed at the corral where the horse was now rolling in the dirt, legs flailing in the dusty air. “Clean him up and trailer him to Clara’s for me, will you? I assume delivery’s part of the deal.” They walked to Hadley’s truck, Sawyer still shaking his head.
“I offer you a bombproof beauty and you pick the bad guy of this barn—other than Blue at times.”
“He’s the one I want. I got a feeling.” Hadley would connect with another bad boy. As he opened his door, he paused. “Given another year or so on the Circle H, you’ll be taking down your shingle at the clinic to just train horses.”
“Not me. I like balance,” Sawyer said. “Being home part of the time instead of working long hours at Farrier General or at the clinic lets me play with James, too.”
Hadley couldn’t argue with that. He wished he had more hours for the twins, but for now he didn’t, and there was no use saying so. He gazed at Sawyer with what he hoped was a bland expression that Sawyer didn’t seem to notice.
“James can wear us out,” he went on, “but my brother and I ran our mother ragged.” Logan was his identical twin although Sawyer had changed his last name from Hunter to McCord after a fallout with their grandfather. “We lost Mom when we were young, but if we hadn’t I hate to think how much we would have aged her by the time we grew up.” A lingering sorrow showed in his eyes. “So I know twins firsthand.”
The only thing Hadley would change for Luke and Gracie was the Pearsons’ meddling in their lives. He tried to feel grateful that only Danielle had come to stay again, but he didn’t much like the fact that she’d established a kind of beachhead right on the dry-as-dust McMann ranch at the height of summer.
“Your twins are in a similar situation,” Sawyer pointed out. “I wish we could have saved Amy, and once they’re older they’ll miss her. You have a lot to handle now, and I imagine some regrets. I heard things weren’t going well between you and Amy last fall.”
“We’ll be okay—the three of us.”
“Hadley.” Sawyer shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I, uh, couldn’t tell you this when Amy was still…with us. Federal privacy laws, you understand. She hadn’t given permission for me to discuss her condition with you. That was only between her and her physician. Me,” he finished.
“Condition?”
Sawyer looked uneasy. “I hate to tell you this now, but I believe it’s important for you to know. Amy was born with a congenital heart defect, a pretty bad one. There was no effective treatment. I won’t go into the medical lingo, but her life expectancy wasn’t that long.”
Hadley felt as if he’d been hit with a hammer. “God, was that why she leaned on me that hard? Why she was so unhinged when we split for a while? Why didn’t she say something?”
“I asked her, and she explained that she didn’t want to worry you. She wanted to be treated like any normal, healthy woman. Her parents had tried to keep her wrapped in cotton, smothered her at times.”
“They knew,” Hadley said bitterly. “And yet they blame me for her death.”
“Not anyone’s fault. But when I saw Amy’s first sonogram, I knew we had a real game changer. I saw her more often after that, of course, and recommended bed rest for the duration of her pregnancy, but Amy wouldn’t listen. Having twins stressed her body far more than a single birth would have.”
“And she still didn’t want me to know.”
“Amy chose to handle her condition as she saw fit. Hadley, she knew she wasn’t well, and nothing would have changed her prognosis, but I’m certain she didn’t expect to die just then.” Although that certainly explained the guardianship. She’d wanted Jenna’s help not only because he might leave, but because Amy had been so ill.
“What about Luke and Gracie? This heart thing?”
“It’s likely not an inherited condition. Something probably went awry with Amy’s development in the early days of her mother’s pregnancy that damaged her heart. I doubt your twins are at risk.”
“You’re not sure?”
“As sure as I can be. The twins were given a full workup before they left the hospital. They’re healthy, but if you still have concerns, bring them in and we’ll take a second look.”
Nothing to worry about. That was welcome news, but the rest… Had he and Amy been so far apart she couldn’t tell him the truth? “What else did she hide from me?” he wondered aloud. Was this yet another layer to the wife he couldn’t love enough? “It’s as if I didn’t know her at all,” he said. “At the hospital, I guess you thought I’d hit the road as soon as Amy was gone.” And to be honest, with Danielle at the ranch and seeing Jenna all the time, Hadley did feel twitchy.
Sawyer rested one hand on the car’s open door frame. “I’ve got no problem with you, Hadley. Doesn’t matter to me what other people say or think. As long as you keep doing fine with your twins, we’re good.”
Hadley merely nodded. He wasn’t used to anyone’s approval.
“Besides,” Sawyer said, “with you turning Clara’s ranch around, I figure you intend to stay a while. Maybe by the time you decide to move on, you won’t want to.” He hesitated. “Jenna Moran’s a nice woman. Pretty, too.”
Hadley slipped inside his truck. “She likes the twins. Period. I’m just hoping Amy’s parents lose interest in their shiny new toys pretty quick. All that should take is Luke spitting his green beans on their fancy clothes, or Gracie pulling their hair, before they hightail it back to Wichita.” At least that’s what he’d decided to believe so he wouldn’t develop an ulcer. Being under constant surveillance made him sweat. As for Jenna…he still feared she’d reveal the guardianship to the Pearsons. It hung over his head like a sword. Could she and Hadley really go through with the truce they’d made? That was all he’d let himself think about where she was concerned. At least he’d try.
Sawyer stepped away from the pickup. “Jenna’s life hasn’t been the happiest, similar to yours, I understand. Something in common there. Could be the basis—”
“For what?” Fixing his mind on their bargain, Hadley suppressed a vision of Jenna on the cabin porch yesterday, her soft blue eyes and pretty sun-gilded hair. “I don’t have time—or the inclination—to start anything. You can tell the whole town that if you like.” He put the truck in gear. “We have enough trouble being civil to each other.”
He left Sawyer with his skeptical expression and barreled off down the drive, rapping one hand against the dash as if it were wood for luck, so God wouldn’t strike him dead for the lie he’d even told himself.
* * *
A BARE SPACE to Jenna was always like a clean slate or a blank page in a book. The kind of new start she’d wanted for her life. Despite her first attack of nerves at Liza’s new house, she’d done a great job—Liza’s words—and looked forward to doing the same here at Clara’s. But Danielle Pearson, she’d discovered, was even more hands-on with the design process than Liza had been.
“Clara,” Danielle began, “I know you like the gray you picked out, but maybe taupe would better suit this cabin. Jenna?” The three women consulted the paint swatches Jenna had gotten at the local hardware store, but Clara and Danielle had disagreed on most of their choices. Danielle seemed stronger, more forceful, when her husband wasn’t around.
Jenna hated being caught in the middle between two clients. “What’s Mr. Pearson’s favorite color?”
Danielle thought a moment. “Blue,” she said with a laugh. “The man has half a dozen pin-striped suits the same shade of navy. Custom shirts, too—white, for contrast.”
“The bolder color would make the room look…contemporary. But remember, this is an old homestead and you wanted a rustic aesthetic, which I agree would be appropriate.”
Clara hadn’t said another word.
“What if we did one accent wall in a slate blue? The bed can go against that wall and the brass frame will just glow.” Jenna showed Clara the color. “A comfortable armchair, down-filled cushions, yellow in a lumbar pillow and some flowers on the bureau…”
“A single wall?” Clara asked.
“I see a lot of that now, and it can be very effective.”
“We could use a splash of gray,” Danielle put in, obviously trying to get Clara on board with the plan.
“In the bed cover,” Clara conceded, “blue and white and gray,” giving Danielle a point. If only Hadley could compromise like this with the Pearsons.
“Then let’s tie in the rustic theme some more by leaving another wall of unfinished boards.” The situation was delicate in more ways than one. It couldn’t be easy for Clara to open her home to people she barely knew, yet she’d been willing to do so for the twins. And now she, Danielle and Jenna had reached an agreement. Jenna’s rigid shoulders began to relax.
She gathered the paint and fabric swatches. Clara said a few words, then disappeared into the other room, but Danielle stayed behind. Clearly, she had something else to discuss. “I think Walter will like what we’re doing. I’m not as sure about Clara.” Danielle paused. “I realize this isn’t my territory. It’s kind of her to ‘take us in,’ but it won’t be easy. Hadley Smith won’t let it be, either.”
Probably true. Hadley wasn’t an easy person, as Amy had said, but his concerns were real. As long as he kept his blue eyes anywhere but on Jenna, and his strong frame at a distance for her peace of mind, they might manage. “He’s promised to try,” she assured Danielle. The story he’d told her of his foster care years, the loss of his only brother, had made her heart ache. “I realize this is a touchy subject, but he and Amy had some difficult times in their relationship—”
“And he failed to protect her!”
“It wasn’t Hadley’s fault she didn’t survive the twins’ births, Danielle. How do you think it makes him feel to be blamed for something he wasn’t responsible for?”
“He was responsible. He was her husband. She should never have gotten pregnant in the first place, though I’m happy to have the twins. But if he’d taken better care of Amy all along, gotten her to that little hospital sooner, she’d still be alive.”
Jenna’s brow furrowed. She recalled Danielle’s comment about Amy’s suffering. Could she mean more than pains during labor? Jenna had heard those could be severe.
“Maybe you should talk to Sawyer McCord,” she said. “He knows far more than I do about what happened. And why.” Jenna didn’t realize she’d spoken so sharply, but Danielle’s gaze fell and Jenna gentled her tone. “I won’t take sides. Losing your only child must have been devastating. When I learned I can never have children, I felt I’d lost a huge part of myself. My own marriage was already falling apart then, and I’m afraid I did some rather unwise things that hurt my family, my sister. I still can’t accept my own loss, but please, don’t misplace your grief by blaming Hadley.”
“I’m surprised you’re defending him, a man who can’t keep a job, who never provided real support for my daughter. I’m with Walter on that. Do you truly believe Hadley’s the most stable person for the twins to be with?”
Danielle had made several good points, all of which Jenna had considered before. But Hadley wasn’t here to defend himself. “There are things you may not know about him.” Jenna couldn’t be sure she knew everything, either, but it wasn’t her place to betray his confidence about what he had revealed. She’d hoped they might all find some meeting ground, but Danielle didn’t take well to her comment.
Her mouth worked; her voice trembled. “I know all I need to know about Hadley Smith.” Which had been Jenna’s opinion once, too, but even now Danielle hadn’t finished. She waved a hand at the room. “Is this your only interest here, Jenna? This cabin?”
“If you mean am I interested in Hadley, no,” she said, feeling warmth rise in her face. “I’m here to refresh this cabin and for the twins’ sakes. I promised Amy I would look out for them, and I will.”
At the mention of her daughter’s name, Danielle’s gaze softened, but her next words hit hard. “Why did Amy need your promise?”
* * *
ALONE IN THE living room that night, Hadley took out his wallet. Clara had gone to bed, but he could hear low voices from the TV upstairs. Nothing from the twins yet.
In Barren to buy wire that afternoon, he’d glimpsed someone on the street, and for one instant he’d imagined again it was Dallas. Yet would Hadley even recognize him? Dallas was a man, not the boy he’d known. Hadley rummaged through credit cards, his driver’s license and his medical card until his fingers closed on the creased picture he always carried.
He stared at it, feeling his pulse throb through his fingers, remembering. Had there been a time long ago when they’d all been together, their family intact and at least partly functional? When the four of them had lived in the same apartment or rented house or, for that one winter, a drafty trailer in the woods? Far enough from town that his parents could conduct their deals with less fear of being caught by the police. A time when he and his kid brother had a warm bed, clean clothes, enough to eat.
Before the twins were born, still wrapped up in his troubles with Amy, he hadn’t given the reality of having children of his own much thought. Yet from that first moment in Farrier General, they’d become the center of his world. No matter how tight the budget got, or where he had to take them, he would always see to their needs. Love them, because he surely did when he’d never loved anyone to such a degree, except Dallas. No matter what he had to do, Luke and Gracie would never want for anything.
Then there was Jenna. He would ignore Sawyer’s advice. Sure, he felt attracted to her—time to admit that—but they were both damaged people, and he had his babies to consider. Despite their recent agreement, he hadn’t forgotten Jenna’s promise at the hospital to make sure he did right by Luke and Gracie—or else. He still didn’t trust her, certainly not when he was being watched so closely by the Pearsons. All she’d have to do was say a few words about the guardianship.
He studied the photo again, which had almost worn through from being handled. His brother beamed at the camera. How old, then? Dallas looked about four, so Hadley would have been six. The oversize T-shirt Dallas wore must have been a hand-me-down. It hung to Dallas’s bony knees, the shoulder seams partway down his skinny arms, one of which was slung around Hadley’s waist. Who had taken the picture? Their mother, probably—that last day? Until the end, she’d been the more caring parent, on her good days, at least, present in their lives sometimes when their dad often was not. Sometimes he wondered what had happened to her.
He couldn’t understand their neglect, just as he hadn’t yet been able to make sense of Amy’s silence about her heart condition.
If he and Dallas could have lived here on the ranch with Clara and Cliff, how different would their lives have been? What if he could find him now?
But then what? He didn’t know his brother any longer. How had he changed over the years they’d been apart? If his life had been just as difficult as Hadley’s, what effect might those hardships have had on Dallas? If he ever met up with him again, he might as easily make things more difficult for Hadley as plug the hole in Hadley’s heart.
And still, he wanted to know.