AFTER THE BRIDAL SHOWER, Jenna and Shadow helped their mother load her presents in the car to take back to her new house. Wanda loved it there, but she was still worried about Jack’s uncle Bertie and asked her daughters’ advice. “Jack and I have a spare bedroom but it’s upstairs and they’re steep. Uncle Bertie can’t climb to the second floor.”
“Are you sure?” Shadow asked with a jaundiced expression. “I never count Bertie out. When he was in the hospital, people expected him to pass away. Instead, he rallied, and he finally went home.”
“Yes, he came home, but to Jack—and then, after I moved in, with me there. Now that we’re in our own place, that won’t work. Jack’s getting exhausted running back and forth to Bertie’s house to see to his needs. I know you tried to find an in-place caregiver, yet none of them has suited Bertie.”
“Then what’s his plan?” Jenna asked.
“We’ve tried to convince him to sell his house instead, then look at assisted living units in the area, but he still won’t.”
Shadow scoffed. “I’ve rarely met a more stubborn individual. You can’t imagine how many people I interviewed as in-home caregivers. Any one of them would have taken care of him and allowed him to stay in his own home, but none of them passed muster with Bertie. I’m sorry, Mama. I agree with you, but Bertie knows what he wants.”
Wanda’s mouth set. “Yes. To live with us—if he can’t stay in his house. Even Jack never meant to be there with him forever. You know we want our privacy now, and as much as I do love him, he’s not a simple person. What are we going to do? We want only the best for him, but that doesn’t mean constantly worrying he’ll tumble down our stairs some night in the dark.”
Jenna said, “Mama, I understand. Honestly, I think he reminds you of Daddy.”
“And your father reminds you that men don’t measure up. Like David.”
Beginning to feel trapped, she glanced at her sister for help.
“I wouldn’t give him another thought,” Shadow murmured. “Mama’s right.”
Jenna said, “I’ll be too busy through the end of the year—I have four new clients—to worry about anyone else.” That should include Hadley. She looked pointedly at Wanda. “Consider this. Could Jack be urging Bertie to move into assisted living because Jack doesn’t plan to stick around?”
“After we bought a house?” Wanda’s face paled. “That is unfair. Shame on you, Jenna.”
Again, she looked to Shadow, who was studying a colorful picture on the opposite wall. Wanda shot to her feet. “Don’t tell me again to reconsider my feelings for Jack. He’s my soul mate. If anyone had said that years ago, I’d never have believed it possible. But he is, Jenna.” Which reminded her of what Liza had said to her about her relationship with Everett. “If you can’t be truly happy for us, then keep that to yourself.” She took a breath. “If you won’t support me, don’t come to my wedding!”
By the time Jenna blinked, her mother was in her coat and out the door, not quite slamming it behind her, leaving Jenna with the new memory of the hurt she’d seen in her eyes. “I’ve really done it now, haven’t I?”
“Don’t look at me. I’m with Mama.”
“But Shadow—”
“I still believe this is more about you and David than it is about Mama and Jack. Your ex is toxic. You did the sensible thing when you changed your name back to Moran after the divorce and came home, but you still act as if—and probably believe—you’re in Shawnee Mission. Or, just as bad, living at the old farm, withdrawing whenever Daddy raised his voice. That is, when he noticed you at all.” She paused to soften her tone. “You’re here, Jen.”
The words stung, but Jenna wondered if Shadow was right, and not just about her ex or their father. Or even about Mama and Jack. And yet, while she might be tempted to give in to her feelings for Hadley, he, too, had a temper. What if she did trust in love again, then wound up as she had with David? She’d be alone, starting over once more, not that she couldn’t take care of herself now.
Shadow went on, “I’m not saying ‘just get over it.’ Remember, I made some real blunders with Grey, and I learned how wrong I was then. I’ll never jeopardize our relationship again, our marriage or our roles as parents together. You need to decide what you want for yourself—not related to David or our father but just for you.” Again, she hesitated. “Could that also include Hadley?”
Jenna realized Shadow’s advice sounded similar to her own with Barney—until she mentioned Hadley.
“Shadow, why would a man like him take on a woman like me?”
Shadow’s tone gentled even more. “You mean a woman who can’t have children?”
“Well, I can’t,” she insisted.
“And he already has two of them. Luke and Grace. Would you turn away from those beautiful babies and him when you could be as happy as Mama is with Jack? Maybe Hadley doesn’t want more kids. Did you ever think of that? Maybe he’s fine with the twins, and your infertility isn’t a factor.” She hesitated. “Have you talked to Hadley about your attachment to the twins?”
Jenna couldn’t deny that. She did covet Hadley’s twins. She loved them. “I long ago stopped hiding my feelings for those babies, but if only they could have been mine, really mine…”
“With Hadley you’d have the twins. You once told me you might adopt on your own.”
For a moment the fantasy of having that ready-made family she’d objected to before, to call Luke and Grace her own and…be with Hadley, seemed to fill her soul. It was almost more than she could bear to contemplate or, perhaps, to turn away from?
“I changed my mind.”
“But if you did want to adopt them, he might agree. No?” Shadow said, an eyebrow arched when Jenna didn’t comment. Her voice trembled. “Amy Smith gave her life for those babies, and they don’t have her now. They never will. If you want children, there they are. Work this out with Hadley. You can have the kids you’ve yearned for, just not in the way you planned.”
She left the room, left Jenna to think, maybe to dream a little. Did she dare to love Hadley? What if she were able to cherish his babies forever? Trust him as she once had David? And this time things did work out?
* * *
“BELIEVE ME, WILLOW. Believe in us.” Beginning to sweat, Cory faced her on the front seat of his truck. They were parked in the lot behind Rowdy’s Bar on Main Street, which wasn’t open yet, happy hour being the time when things started to hum and the night began. Willow’s sedan sat beside his pickup, and Cory kept shooting looks down the alley, hoping the sheriff’s cruiser didn’t roll by. Cory was supposed to be in Farrier this afternoon to pick up a new winch for Hadley’s truck in case they needed to pull some cow out of a snow-covered ditch this coming winter, and the wind chill today should have made him hurry. But when Willow had finally called, Cory dropped everything. He’d taken what could be his one chance to meet her again, but in Barren where he had no business showing up.
“I won’t sneak around any longer,” Willow said, “or keep lying to my father.”
“Then you lied to me. Do you…care about me, or not? If you don’t, say so.” His chin jutted out. “I’ll put this truck in gear, drive away and never see you again. Never try to. Ever since I came back to Barren—”
“And that’s another thing!” The words burst from her. “Why did you?” Cory wasn’t about to say, because of you. Only you. “Using a phony name,” she added, her lip curled in distaste. “Cory Jennings?”
His heart thudded. He was steadily losing ground here. If he was honest, his return in the hope of taking his puppy-dog crush on her to another level had been a world-class error. “Who told you that?” but he could already guess.
“Calvin.”
That shouldn’t surprise him. Since the night of the dance, he’d been waiting for that shoe to drop. Willow knew both of them, worse luck for him.
“No wonder I haven’t heard anyone else in town mention you. There’s still a warrant for your arrest, but under your real name. If Finn Donovan ever sees you…” She took a shaken breath.
Cory saw red. “Calvin should have kept his mouth shut.” If Cory said the wrong thing now, he’d lose her for sure. He’d craved seeing her again so bad even when he knew he shouldn’t come within a hundred miles of Barren, Kansas. He’d risked his freedom, and all because he’d fallen for her. Crazy, huh? “You and I are none of Calvin Stern’s business—or the sheriff’s.”
“Is Calvin right, though? Have you been lying to me all along?”
He chose his words carefully. “I’m not going to prison, Willow. Sure, I did something bad. But I was a kid.”
“You’re still a kid,” she murmured, but so was she. He’d bet her father didn’t know she hung out at Rowdy’s, and at the dance in Farrier or—as yet—with him again.
“I’ve reformed,” he insisted. He’d worked his tail off at the McMann ranch, keeping out of more trouble, staying out of sight except to see Willow and the one time he’d bumped into Calvin.
“If my father hears this—”
“Will he?” From you? he wanted to ask.
“I hope not. You better hope not, too.” She gazed at him with that spark in her eyes that he loved. That fast, her tone had turned coy. “What did you really do? Kill somebody?”
“Nothing like that.” Yet she seemed intrigued. He’d suspected Willow had a wild side, and Cory waited, letting her wonder about him as a dangerous character. “Burned down a barn,” he finally said, but to his amazement she didn’t find that admirable.
Willow’s eyes widened. “Grey Wilson’s barn? That was you?”
Cory didn’t answer. Hoping to steal a kiss, he moved across the bench seat between them, reached out to draw her close—danger enhanced the attraction—and got his face slapped. Willow jumped out of the truck, then ran toward her car.
Feeling miserable, wondering why she’d taken such offense, he raced over to the store in Farrier to get the winch, then rushed back to Clara’s place, telling himself he’d wait Willow out again, as Hadley had advised once. He wouldn’t give up. She’d be back. He’d been drawing girls’ interest from before he first shaved, and Willow was no different—except that he loved her. He was sure of that now. They were practically engaged, and Cory had started saving for that ring. He’d surprised her, that’s all, or rather Calvin had. She wouldn’t tell a soul. If he thought she might, he’d be gone before dark. I’m not going to prison was no joke.
The sun had faded when he finally pulled up at the barn.
And as he got out of the truck, Cory’s bad day got worse.
In a flash, woman trouble was the furthest thing from his mind, Willow Bodine included. Hadley stood just inside the barn talking to two men. Cowboys, from the tilt of their hats, the gouges in the worn leather of their boots, and his gut rolled. Even with their backs to him, Cory recognized both of them. Two of the people he’d tried to avoid in this town, in part by using his phony name. For a second, he thought of barreling his pickup down the drive, but there was no use running.
“Where have you been?” Hadley asked, but Cory didn’t answer.
The other two turned toward him, and shock widened their eyes. One of the men was Grey Wilson, owner of the barn Cory had torched. Owner of the Angus cattle he had rustled with the help of Calvin Stern. The other man had been their accomplice, the third member of their trio, and now, he’d heard, was Grey’s brother-in-law who worked for him. He was the first to speak.
“Well, shoot,” Derek Moran muttered, slapping his hat against his jeans-clad thigh. “If it isn’t Cody Jones.”