Jackie beat the morning sun over the hill. She had the best cinnamon rolls next to her and a gritted determination to focus on the goal in front of her—not her teenage cowboy poet who had turned into a good-looking, pessimistic bull rider. The pit of her stomach told her part of his hardness was her fault.
The boys greeted her with so much joy the heaviness on her shoulders lightened. With Ethan herding them, they took the box of baked goods to the kitchen. In the living room piles of curtains, blankets and other sorts of fabric cluttered the floor.
“Looks like you already got started.” This she could do.
Max shook his head. “Really, you don’t have to do this.”
“And when are you going to get everything else done?” She pulled an old book off the shelf and flipped through the pages of Frio Canyon folktales. “Go, and we’ll take care of this.”
He disappeared into the kitchen. She heard him talking to the boys. Then she heard the back door open and close. This was a great house, but it needed a good scrubbing and a little bit of love.
In five hours, they had made a huge dent in the mess neglect had created. Hourly breaks with the boys had been fun, too. It was easy to take the time and play with them. They craved any attention and laughed with pure abandon.
Jackie closed the lid on the old washer and took the dry sheets to the dining room. The boys were making a tent. “Careful, boys. There might be spiders, scorpions or snakes curled up sleeping in those old sheets.”
Eyes wide, the young brothers dropped the sheet they’d been hiding under. They were on the last load of bedding and curtains. She had wiped down the book shelves and mopped all the floors and now they needed to attack the windows. “Come here, you two. Take this newspaper and wipe the glass on the French doors as high as you can.”
“The maid uses newspaper at our house, but we aren’t allowed to help.”
“On a ranch, everyone has to do their share.” She put her hands on her hips and squinted her eyes. “You’re old enough, right?”
“Yes, ma’am!” They both nodded with enthusiasm. “And we’re strong! See my muscles.” Isaac flexed his arm.
“Oh, man, you are!”
Tomas started on a glass door. “Why can’t we help Max and Ethan? They’re doing cowboy work, and we have to do girls’ work.”
“Whoa there, partner!” Max stood in the archway dividing the formal living room and the family area. “We have to divide and conquer if we’re moving in tonight. There are no girl jobs or boy jobs, just work that needs to be done. When you’re taller, you can help dig post holes and fix fences.”
Ethan flopped on the dark orange sofa. “Believe me, you’d rather be in here.” Head back, eyes closed, it looked as if he had gone to sleep. “Do we have anything to drink?”
“I put some bottled water in the refrigerator.” Jackie went back to folding linens.
With a yawn, Ethan went into the kitchen area.
Max checked the boys’ work. “This looks great and—” he took a deep breath “—it smells fresh. Good job, boys.”
“Opening the windows helped.” She kept her head down. Sheets of the poems he had written her had been tucked in an old box in the back of a closet. Now she felt awkward. Did she bring them up? He hadn’t even looked at her since he walked in.
He went down on his haunches and wadded up a clean sheet of newspaper. “Here, let me help. This is definitely a two-sheet job. Maybe three.” They nodded and followed his example.
She wasn’t sure why he thought he was like his father. He was great with the boys. She smiled as the brothers beamed with pride at their clean windows.
Ethan tossed Max a bottle of water. “I’m going to get something to eat. Want anything?”
“You just ate.”
With a shrug, he disappeared back into the kitchen.
“I’m going to need a loan just to keep him fed.” Leaning against the large dining-room table, he tipped his head back and drank the water.
She made herself stop staring. “I saw your guitar case in one of the rooms.”
He frowned, but didn’t say anything.
“You spent a lot of time playing it. Maybe you can play for the boys later.” Sweet memories made her smile. When she moved her gaze from the boys to Max, the soft feeling vanished. His eyes were cold and his jaw hard.
He crushed the water bottle in his fist and threw it in the trash can. “It’s empty.” His voice gruff.
“Oh.” She hesitated. Picking up the old tin box full of pages of his poems, she held it up for him to see. “But this isn’t. Look what I found.” Max didn’t share her excitement.
Standing, he popped his knuckles. “You can throw them away. They’re trash. They should’ve been burned with all the others.” He walked to the kitchen doorway. “Ethan! Get the rest of the newspapers and help Isaac and Tomas finish the doors and windows. They need to be done before we eat lunch.” The easygoing Max was gone. The boys looked at her as if asking what had gone wrong in the last few minutes.
Ethan appeared, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand. “But I’m—”
Max cut him off with a glare.
Head down, Ethan joined his younger brothers. “Yes, sir.”
Max headed out the front door.
Jackie tucked the box of poems under one arm and followed him. He stood on the edge of the concrete porch, the valley stretching out around them. Max’s fingers tapped the sides of his thighs as he scrutinized the surrounding area. The need to escape was written all over him.
“What’s going on? I thought you would be happy that we found these. It’s like a lost treasure. You were always writing something. If you didn’t have paper, you used napkins. Once you wrote right on my arm.”
Ignoring her, he walked to the fence that enclosed the tree-covered yard. Bracing his palms on the top rail and one boot on the bottom, he took a deep breath as if he was trying to look relaxed. But the tension in his jaw gave him away.
“I remember you poring over every word and note, Max. You should read some of the fun ones about the rodeo. The boys would love it.”
“It’s stupid gibberish and a waste of time. They should’ve been trashed with the others. I didn’t know any had survived.”
“Things that bring us joy are gifts, not something you toss in a box and forget. I remember your voice as you read each word to me. It was like you knew about all the hurt and fear that I had hidden inside me.”
“Stop.” He lowered his head.
“Why?” She stood next to him, the tall oaks creating a spotted canopy overhead. Thinking of the kid he was, she could see wisdom beyond his teenage years. “What did you mean, ‘they should’ve been trashed’?”
He rested his chin on his crossed arms. A deer snorted somewhere in the cedar break. The silence between them grew heavy.
He cleared his throat. “I was doing some research on out-of-control thistle.”
“Max.”
“Burning them is the best option. I finally got some good news, though. This is the best time of year to do it, while they’re dormant.”
“What happened with your poetry?” She reached out to touch his arm, but he shifted and her hand dropped. She persisted. “We used to spend hours just talking about things. Life.”
“My father… Listen, Jackie. You want access to the old buildings? We’ll work out a deal, but our past is off the table. I was a stupid kid on so many levels. I had to…” He waved his hand toward the box. “After your father found us at the dance, he made it clear what he thought of me. You left with him. I had my grandfather take me to Dallas to confront my father. I wasn’t going to let him ignore me anymore. I wanted to find out from him what happened, but he wouldn’t talk. All he said was that he didn’t have time to deal with…” He pressed his lips into a thin line, then tightened his grip on the railing. “It doesn’t matter what he said. He told me to go back to my grandfather’s. I stole one of his trucks instead and drove here to Clear Water. I thought if I could talk to you, we’d fix everything. I called.”
She closed her eyes, remembering their last conversation. “You were here when you called?”
“Yeah. You made it clear that Bergmanns didn’t hang out with Delgados.” He shrugged. “Needless to say, my father was furious. He came to the ranch to make sure I knew where I stood. That was the last time I tried to… It was over. You were gone, and I was no longer his son.” Eyes closed, Max shook his head. “Nothing else to talk about. I had to grow up. I broke my guitar and burned my work. I must have missed some, but it doesn’t matter. No more wasting time on nonsense.”
“Those were never a waste of time.” She had pushed him away. Her father had been so upset, and she had been shocked to learn that the boy she had fallen in love with had lost his mother because of her.
Caught between her father and Max, she hadn’t known which way to turn. From the time of the accident, she’d done everything she could to take the sadness out of her father’s eyes. But Max had been hurt, too. She couldn’t make both men happy.
There was no way she could ever fix the mistake she had made. All she could do for now was stay focused on her mission. “You’re right. I think it’s past time to see the condition of the buildings. For our mothers.”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“I’m too close. Max, I—”
“I’m going to finish the last of the fencing. We can head out to look at the buildings and the old entrance after lunch.” He shoved his hands in his back pockets.
She put the lid back on the tin box. “Thank you. What about these?”
He backed away from the fence. “The fireplace is working. They would actually be useful there.”
There had to be a way to reach him. “Max—”
He cut her off with the same glare he had shot Ethan.
“What?” She tilted her head and raised one eyebrow. “I was just going to suggest using them to start a fire to roast hot dogs for lunch.”
With a slight pull to the corner of his lips, he shook his head.
Her heart ached. “Can I have them?”
“Whatever.” He shrugged. “I have work to do. Send Ethan out.” He lifted his hat to push his hair back. With the black Stetson back in place, he walked away without looking back.
As a teen, he had been so idealistic. She had loved that about him. He had been so romantic and sensitive. And he’d ridden a horse like he’d been born on one.
How had he become so cold and hard? She looked down at the poems. He had shared all his dreams and fears with her back then. His writing had been full of questions about life, about the world, about her. The desire to please his father. Some expressed deep sadness over the death of his mother. A loss they had both connected over.
She wanted to cry for everything they had lost because of one careless action on her part.
Wiping her face with the back of her hand, she made sure the boys wouldn’t see any tears. She was not throwing the poems away.
* * *
Max pulled his truck into the backcountry road that ran along the east of the ranch. All through lunch, he had managed to avoid any talk about his poems and songs. It brought back the memories he’d worked hard to bury. The night he had found out who Jackie was, she had walked away from him. He had tried to blame her father, but she had made it clear that her father’s opinion was hers, too.
At that point he had wished his heart was made of stone. She didn’t want him to bother her anymore. He’d been a fool all the way around.
His jaw was starting to hurt. He needed to get out of his head.
“I want to work in a feed store when I grow up.” Isaac didn’t like silence. “Then I can have as many dogs, cats and horses as I want.”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Yesterday you wanted to be a bull rider and a race car driver.”
Isaac crossed his arms. “I can be all of those if I want to. Right, Max?”
Jackie laughed. “You would have to work very hard to get all that done. What about you, Ethan? What are your plans for the future?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Go to Yale or Columbia and major in law.”
Max eyed the teen in the rearview mirror. “You don’t look very excited about that. Our father wanted me to get into a top business school. Your stepfather and mother are both lawyers, aren’t they?”
“What I really want to do doesn’t make any money. It is about as stupid as being a race car driver or…” He jerked his head down.
“Or a bull rider?” Max chuckled. “Our father didn’t support my plans until I was ranked and started making money. Sometimes being a little stubborn pays off.”
Jackie chuckled. “A little?”
He grinned, but went on like she hadn’t questioned him. “Or maybe the drive to prove the old man wrong pushed me. The point is that people said I was crazy, but I made it work. What is it you really want to do?”
Ethan crossed his arms and shrugged. His gaze stayed focused on the surrounding hills. “Music.” His voice was so low it was hard to hear him.
“Really?” She nudged Max on the shoulder and sent him a huge grin.
He shook his head. He knew precisely what Ethan faced from his family, and it wasn’t warm wishes and support. Music would not be on the list of approved career choices for either family. “You want to make a career out of music?”
“I know it’s stupid, but I’m good at dropping mixes. I like making new beats and sounds. But Mom said it was a waste of my time.”
Jackie pushed his arm again. He glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. What did she want from him? “Life can be tough when you want to do something outside of the family norm.”
Another pop on his arm told him she wasn’t happy with his advice. He lifted his shoulders. “What?” he mouthed.
Her lips went flat, and she shook her head at him. She turned back to Ethan with a smile, then rested her arm on the back of Max’s seat. Her hand brushed his shoulder, and his breath caught at the casual touch. He swallowed and gripped the steering wheel, focusing on the road ahead.
She went on as if touching him was no big deal.
It’s not a big deal. It shouldn’t be, anyway.
“Ethan, nothing is wrong with that if it’s what you want to do. When you want something that is seemingly out of reach, you’ll just have to work twice as hard to get it. It doesn’t always come easy, but that can be a good thing. The harder we have to work for something, the sweeter the accomplishment feels.”
She looked back at him. Her family supported each other. She didn’t get it. When he didn’t jump into the conversation, she went on without him.
“I basically work in the construction industry. I’m sure Max had to work odd jobs before he started making money riding bulls.”
“Yep.” He nodded.
“The thing is, when you love something, you have to find ways to make it work. I love the lumberyard and working with the historical society to restore old buildings. If you love what you’re doing, life is so much better.”
“I want to do something—anything—with music. I can’t imagine doing anything else. Did you always want to ride bulls?”
Isaac turned to Ethan. “He used to write poems. Jackie found a box full of them.”
Ethan leaned forward as far as his seat belt would let him. “Really? Like sonnets and haiku? Man, that sounds lame.” He had a ridiculous grin on his face. “I can just imagine what Dad thought about that. But you ended up doing something cool. The last summer I spent with Dad, I saw all the rodeo pictures of you in the offices and the stores. The ones of me were gone.”
“Ethan, there were no pictures of me until I started ranking in the top twenty.” Why did their father treat his sons as if they were disposable?
The kid looked so dejected. Jackie gave him another say-something look.
God, I want to be different from my father. Give me the words.
He knew this was an opportunity to build a better relationship with his brother. “Ethan.” He waited for eye contact. “A couple of times when I spoke with him, he said you were at the offices. He would brag about you and told me how you loved the family business, even as a little guy. You were about the age of double trouble here.” He winked at the little ones.
Of course, his father was using it to make sure Max knew what a failure he was. No reason for Ethan to know how much he had resented his little brother at the time.
“I got to spend summers with him until about five years ago.” The pain in Ethan’s eyes was substantial as he glanced at his five-and six-year-old brothers.
Max briefly closed his eyes. His father had been a jerk, but saying that now wouldn’t help any of them. “He loved the business more than anything else. It consumed him. Which is why, starting right now, we are making a vow to always be here for each other, no matter what.”
Jackie squeezed his shoulder. He glanced at her, and her look of pride and love walloped him upside his head. For a second, it felt as if she could see to the bottom of his heart. Then she broke eye contact and turned to the boys. “Family is about supporting and loving each other, even when we mess up.”
Swallowing the knot back down, Max continued. He needed to make them understand they were family, even when they weren’t together. “Ethan, whatever you decide to do, I’ll be there. None of us are successful right away, but if you want something, you have to be willing to fight for it. To work through the failures, and get up after you’re knocked down. My faith in God has gotten me through some dark times. He is the Father we can completely trust. I promise if you call me, I’ll help you brush the dirt off.”
Isaac clapped. “Jackie said that Max wrote a poem about eating dirt.”
Jackie smiled. “He wrote some funny ones and some beautiful poems. Sometimes he would put them to music. I would sit for hours and listen to him.”
Ethan sat back in his seat, still smiling like a loon. “Wow. The secret life of bull rider Maximiliano Delgado. Maybe I can put your poems to music and make a bunch of money. Then my mom couldn’t say anything.” He looked out the window, but he was grinning this time.
Suddenly his head whipped around. “Wait. You wrote her poems? You did used to date!”
Max shook his head at Ethan. “We’re not going to talk about this.”
“It was a long time ago.” Apparently, Jackie had no problem sharing their past. “One summer we met on the rodeo circuit. I ran barrels and poles. I thought he was the cutest cowboy with a really sweet heart. And, man, could he ride and rope. He was doing all-around back then. It was before his PBR fame. He was with his grandfather and uncles. I didn’t even know he was a Delgado from Clear Water.”
Ethan leaned forward, his arms on the back of the seat in front of him.
“What happened when you found out who he was? Did you dump him because he was a Delgado?”
She pulled away. “It was complicated. I remember him playing the guitar. You two have music in common.” Sadness clouded her smile.
Why was she sad? He’d been the one left behind. He’d even run away to see her, but she still wouldn’t talk to him. The poems and songs had been a waste of time and energy.
His knuckles hurt from the grip he had on the wheel. He didn’t want to think about the senseless thoughts he’d written down, or how his father had reacted to his writings. Jackie had that poor-sad-baby look in her eyes. He didn’t need her pity.
The mood in the truck turned heavy and everyone retreated to their own corner.
Max glanced at his brothers. He wanted the smiles back. “So, who wants to have a huge ranch-sized bonfire?”
All eyes turned to him. He glanced at Jackie. “Who do I talk to about doing a controlled burn to get the thistle cleared? I thought we could do one pasture at a time, but I’m not sure. The last thing we need to do is burn down the whole county.”
“The extension agent, Robert Cornelis, would be a good place to start.” She seemed eager to change the subject, too.
Ethan cleared his throat. “So, why don’t you play your guitar anymore?”
Max growled. The teen clearly did not get the memo. He didn’t want to think about that life. No point dragging all this stuff out.
Ethan sat back. “For Christmas every year, I asked for a guitar. I got professional golf clubs. I hate golf. Mom made me join the Japanese language club and the honor society. They look better on a résumé.”
“Résumé?” Jackie looked at Max as if he had something to do with it. “You’re a freshman in high school.”
“Never too early—” Max stopped emulating his father midsentence when he realized Ethan was saying the exact same thing.
“—to build your future,” Ethan finished, a slight tug at the corner of his mouth. “I guess you heard it, too. There’s no future in music.”
“We want a guitar!” Isaac yelled, oblivious to the seriousness of the discussion. “And drums. Momma said we could have puppies, but no drums.”
“Momma said we’d get the puppies once she came home,” Tomas said in a quiet voice as if he was afraid to upset someone.
“But she’s not coming home, is she?” Isaac asked. The heavy sadness filled the cab.
Lost in thought, trying to find the right words, Max almost missed the turn. The road was scarcely there. Shrubs and vines covered the fence and gate. He hit the brake a little too hard.
“Sorry about that. Boys, your mom is always going to be with you in your heart.” He really wanted to talk about something else. God, please give me something.
Jackie touched the hand he had on the gear shift. “I lost my mother at about your age. So did Max. But we have memories and pictures. Your brother’s right—she will always be in your heart. You have pictures and can talk to each other about your memories.”
Acid burned his gut. He didn’t have memories of his mother, not a single picture. Maybe he needed to fight his uncle a little harder for these buildings. Putting the truck in Park, he stared at what used to be an entrance. This didn’t look promising. “I’m not sure we’ll be able to get in this way.”
“I brought gloves and clippers. If you don’t have some basic tools, you can use mine.”
“I’m fine. I also have tools.” He wasn’t sure why he felt he had to defend himself.
She grinned as she stepped down from his truck.
“Can we help? I want to use tools!” Isaac undid his seat belt.
“I think it might be safer for you in the truck.” Max eyed the roadside jungle.
“Let us help.” Tomas was scrambling to get out.
“Stay close to the truck and away from the road. Ethan, will you keep them close?”
“Yeah. As long as they don’t run away.”
“We didn’t run away! You ignored us.”
“Boys.” He glanced at Jackie. She was already pulling tangled vines away from the old gate.
She looked over her shoulder. “You might want to keep them in the truck. Their tennis shoes don’t offer any protection from rattlesnakes.”
“Snakes?” Ethan froze, his eyes darting over the area. His body didn’t move a muscle.
Isaac jumped from the truck. “I want to see a snake.”
Ethan grabbed him by the shoulder. “She said ‘rattlesnake.’ The kind that kills you. Get back in the truck.”
“I don’t want to.” Isaac tried to pull his shoulder out of Ethan’s grip, but the teen was not letting go.
Jackie stopped and looked back at them, hands on hips. “Why don’t you get in the bed of the truck? You’ll be safe in there, and you can warn us if you see anything.”
Ethan picked Isaac up. He swung him through the air and plopped him in the back of the truck. “Come on, Tomas.”
Jackie went back to pulling weeds from the desolate road. Digging through his toolbox, Max found another pair of gloves.
Before taking a step, he looked at the ground. He really hated snakes. With a deep breath, he joined her. Please, don’t let there be snakes.
No-trespassing signs were posted all over the high fence.
Max chopped away thick grapevines until he found the chain. “We’re going to have to cut off the lock.” Looking past the fence, he searched for the old route. “I’m not sure this even counts as a road anymore. You know, those buildings might be gone by now.”
Jackie straightened and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “I have not fought this hard or come this far to give up now. You told Ethan that sometimes you fall, but you have to get back up.” She threw another thick grapevine onto the pile she had started. With more force than she probably needed, she attacked the rest of the vine. “Since you’re the owner, I’ll let you cut the chain. I don’t want to get charged with trespassing.”
He watched her for a bit longer, then cut the chain. It didn’t give easily. When it dropped to the ground, he wasn’t sure why he felt like he was the one trespassing.
Then again, he’d never felt he belonged anywhere. Except for that one summer.
* * *
She should have driven her own car. With each bump, she had to brace herself from colliding into Max. Being this close set her nerves on edge. Her heart was breaking for him and his brothers. They needed someone to love them unconditionally.
But this adventure was not about Max. It was what her mother had wanted, and it would make her dad happy.
The first building came into view, and her heart sank.
The roof was gone, and all the windows were broken. The porch had collapsed. Light streamed through the boards that made up the walls. Not much of the building was left, and the one on the opposite side of the road was even worse.
She would not cry, she told herself. These were just the outbuildings. Probably nothing more than shacks when they were new. According to some letters and a couple of photos, the church and school had been built with limestone.
“Those buildings look like good candidates for my uncle’s project,” said Max.
The road had vanished. Slowly Max maneuvered the truck along the side of the property line between the Bergmann and Delgado ranches until he found another path.
Her heart beat a little faster. This was where her mother’s family’s ranch and the Delgados’ met. For generations, there had been disputes over the water and pastures.
The weeds had taken ownership of the old dirt road, and the trees invaded the path. Max had to slow down to make sure they didn’t drive over the edge of the cliff.
They turned a sharp curve, and her throat went dry. Her blood stopped flowing. This is it.
Nature had erased all evidence of the horrific accident that had changed their families’ lives forever. They had driven right over the edge of the bridge. The bridge was no longer there.
Her father had had it demolished. “This is it.” Hand pressed against the cool glass, her voice cracked. “The place our mothers died.”
Max stopped the truck. “Are you sure?”
Without a thought, she got out of the truck.
The engine cut off. The world slipped away as she saw it the way it was that day. Another cold front had rolled in, pushing the warmer weather out. Pulling her jacket tighter around her didn’t do anything against the cold.
“Jackie?”
Max’s voice caused her to jump. Glancing over her shoulder, she looked for the boys.
“They’re okay. Ethan is singing songs with them.” His arm dropped on her shoulders and pulled her close. “Have you come here often?”
Numb, she managed to shake her head. Words got stuck in her raw throat. Wiping her nose, she sniffed. “Not since that day.”
“What? You were with them?” He pressed the corner of his forehead against her temple. The black cowboy hat was pushed back.
“No. I was with Daddy when he found them.” Time slipped away as the memories bombarded her brain. She blinked fast and hard. “Momma was late. Daddy went looking for her. I had stayed home from school, so he took me with him.” She pointed to the other side of the river, where exposed rebar left a scar on the edge of the slope. “They were on our ranch. I don’t know if they had just left here or were heading this way. We didn’t see the car at first. The second time around, Daddy saw something that caught his eye. He told me to stay in the truck.”
She shook her head. “But of course, I didn’t. I wasn’t very good at listening back then.”
Like an old black-and-white film, the scene played in her head. She slipped completely into the past.
The inhuman scream from her father ripped through the air before she was out of the truck. “He yelled my mother’s name. It was the most horrific sound I’ve ever heard.” She heard it in her dreams. Even as her mother’s voice faded from her memories, she could still hear her father’s terror. “I started running. There at the edge, I saw the car.”
All she really remembered was shattered glass and blood. There was blood in the water. Things that had been in her mother’s car were scattered over the rocks and roots. Her father had thrown something out of the car as he tried to get his wife out.
It was her toy horse, Silver. The white plastic was covered in red. Her heart slammed against her ribs. That was the moment she knew the wreck had been her fault.