Always Remember (2 page)

She bit back a sigh and reminded herself that Nate wasn’t the reason she’d come home. “I want to thank you for taking care of my mother.”

He glanced her way, his eyes as blue and as cold as a mountaintop glacier, before he turned his attention back to the baggage ramp. “Don’t kid yourself into thinking I did it for you.”

She nodded and took the hint. So what if he didn’t want to talk to her. She didn’t have anything to say to him, either. She pressed her lips together and patted her purse to make sure the envelope was still safely tucked away. Then she snuggled the baby closer to her breast, wishing more than anything that she’d been given a chance at motherhood, to raise and shape another human being. But what was the point of dwelling on something that could never be? Her life had taken her in a direction she’d never imagined when all she’d wanted was Nate at her side and a house full of love and laughter and children.

Beside her, he shifted again, the scuff of his cowboy boots against the floor tile loud in the silence between them. Jessie settled the unfamiliar, yet oh-so-welcome, weight of the baby in her arms. The little girl sighed, her tiny body shuddering as though releasing the last remnant of her confrontation with the plane and the crowd.

Jessie inhaled the sweet, fresh fragrance of powder, wiped away a lingering tear from the baby’s cheek, and savored the rose petal softness of her skin. So innocent, so dependent and trusting. Like she’d once been, before she’d left everything she wanted, everything she’d loved, behind.

A movement near the escalator caught her attention. Jessie’s heart skipped a beat. She tightened her arms around the baby and wished for a few more seconds, a lifetime of days.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nate push back his hat. His gaze darted in her direction, then ricocheted back to the baggage ramp. Jessie stood a little straighter, her gaze fixed on the shadows as they materialized into a person.

A pretty blonde woman appeared with identical twin boys clinging to her hands. “I’m sorry I took so long. It took a while to convince the boys that they weren’t too old to go into the women’s washroom.”

“No problem.” Jessie clung a little tighter to the baby and forced a smile as she gestured toward Nate. “Nate, you remember Brenda Mann. She was in our graduating class.”

The tension on his face eased and his mouth curved into a welcoming smile. “Yeah, sure. Brenda Mann. You used to sit at the front of biology class.”

The other woman blinked and looked pleased. “I didn’t think you’d remember me, Nate.”

“The smartest girl in school?” The tone of his voice softened, turned intimate. Jessie closed her mind against the memory of whispered promises, torrid embraces, so long ago it seemed like a dream. “You were the only girl in class who had the stomach for dissecting those poor little frogs. So what are you up to now? You Jessie’s nanny?”

“Nanny?” Brenda’s confusion cleared as her gaze settled on the sleeping child. Reluctantly, Jessie handed the baby to the other woman. “No, I’m Lori’s mom. I ran into Jessie on the plane and she was kind enough to help me with the baby.”

Jessie brushed a silky lock of hair from the baby’s smooth forehead. “It was fun. Too bad the flight ended so quickly.”

“Wait till you have children of your own.” Brenda turned to snag the collar of one of the boys before he scampered away. “Will I see you around town?”

Staring down at the sleeping child, Jessie felt a pain in her chest.
If only.
“I’m not sure how long I’ll be here. If I get a chance, I’ll definitely call you, okay?”

“That would be great. I’d love to hear more about your life on the road.”

Nate caught the other twin before he could escape. “Do you need help with your luggage? Maybe a ride somewhere?”

“No thanks. We left the city in a hurry and...” A nervous laugh escaped her and she shrugged. “We didn’t bring anything. My parents should be along any second. I’ll just...oh, there they are now.” She waved at the gray haired couple entering the terminal, then gently pushed the boys in their direction. “Take care, Jessie. I hope your mother is feeling better soon. It was nice seeing you again, Nate.”

Jessie watched her shepherd the boys toward the exit and only when they departed from the building did she realize that Nate was studying her, the expression in his eyes somber, reflective, maybe even a little angry. Well, he had the right. More than the right. He had the best reason in the world to be mad at her and he didn’t even know what it was.

She squared her shoulders, grabbed up a bag as it went around the ramp, and shoved it at him before grabbing another one. Finally, they could get moving. “Ready?”

By the time they left the terminal, darkness had fallen and the lights of the city lit up the sky. She stifled a yawn, only now feeling the effects of the long trip home.

Beside her, Nate guided the truck into the heavy traffic, his hands gripping the wheel. She pulled her gaze from the firm set of his jaw and rested her head against the window, letting her eyes drift shut.

Get in. Get out. No time for regrets or old promises.

She’d visit with her mother and father, confirm that Nate had overreacted to her mother’s illness, then head back to the city with her guilty conscience intact.

Get in. Get out. Don’t tell him the truth.

CHAPTER THREE

Jessie opened her eyes to the deep darkness of a country road and the familiar surroundings of her childhood home.

In the distance, moonlight spilled across snow-covered mountaintops, illuminating the familiar countryside. Jessie concentrated on the steady, soothing rhythm of tires against asphalt instead of the silence in the cab and the man maneuvering the vehicle along the highway leading home. The unbroken hum lulled her into a false sense of security as they passed the gently rolling landscape of the foothills and skirted the town of Cochrane.

Home.
The word conjured up a lifetime of decisions she longed to revoke. Jessie tried not to think of the past, but as Nate steered the truck off the highway, every bump in the road dislodged the regrets and reminded her she’d taken the easy way out.

Almost there.
They passed a mailbox, then another and another, surnames she could have recited from memory after years of riding the bus to and from school.

Home.
The end of a long journey. The place where she’d found so much happiness. So much heartache, too. She’d run as far as possible, until she’d come full circle. Now it felt as though she had no place left to hide.

Nate braked and steered the truck onto the gravel driveway leading to the Coltrane ranch. A single light shone across the main yard, its warm glow a welcome sight in the darkness of the night.

She braced her hands on her knees and battled the churning in her stomach, the urge to run, the desire to hide from her past until it simply disappeared.

But it wouldn’t ever vanish because she’d always wonder, worry.

They drove past the front gate, past bits of snow scattered here and there as though reluctant to let winter pass. Jessie wondered if Nate had ever married, whether he now had the sons and daughters he’d once longed for, a family to fill his house and the empty regions of his heart. Did he have a loving wife waiting for him in his bed? She hoped so. He didn’t deserve to be alone.

As they continued on the narrow driveway circling the yard, the outline of the barn rose out of the night, then the stables and the bunkhouse. Familiar sights, evoking memories of her youth, happier days when she’d had not a care in the world, when she’d loved with abandon and never imagined the consequences.

Nate stopped the truck in front of her childhood home and a chill swept over her. The veranda was empty, the porch swing still and silent. She blinked away the sudden moisture in her eyes, heard the truck door creak open and slam shut. The crunch of gravel beneath his boots filled the night as he skirted the vehicle, his movements stiff, unforgiving, as if he already knew the truth.

Impossible.

Nate pulled open the door and waited, his gaze steady on her face. What if she blurted out the truth? Would it lighten the guilt or make it worse?

Definitely worse. She bit her tongue against the rush of words, slid off the seat, and planted her feet firmly on the ground. The mountain air, brisk and alive, seeped through her thin jacket, and she hugged her arms to her body. Staring at the porch, Jessie tried not to think of how dead she felt inside because she’d had no choice but to keep her distance from the man now watching her with an intensity that called to mind his last words to her.

You’ll come back?

She hadn’t been able to.

Water from the creek behind the house gurgled and splashed. From beyond the main yard, the distant lowing of cattle drifted in. The front porch lights were turned low, as though awaiting her return from a date with Nate. Everything seemed as familiar as though she’d just left yesterday.

Three steps forward, two steps up, then open the door. All she had to do was move one foot, then the other, yet she couldn’t make herself take the first step.

She stalled. “It still looks the same.”

“We painted last year. Replaced the windows, too.”

The low tone of his voice brushed against her like velvet on bared skin, soothing her frazzled nerves, awakening the long ignored urging of her body. She closed her eyes, determined to quell the uneven beat of her heart, to deny the desire to be held in his arms once again, so close together they’d inevitably become one.

“When Maude got sick, Sam fixed up the room on the main floor. Makes it easier for her to come out and sit with him in the quiet of the evening.”

“I remember they used to do that.” Mostly, she remembered sitting on the swing with Nate, sometimes talking, sometimes their mouths too busy with other pleasures for them to exchange a single word. She inhaled the sweet fragrance of spring in the mountains and tried to still the quiver of desire that betrayed her need. “I’d forgotten how wonderful the air smells here.”

A muffled snort of laughter came from behind and with a frown, she faced him. “What’s so funny?”

“You didn’t used to think so. In fact, the way I remember it, you used to bribe me to clean out your side of the stables.”

Ahhh, the bribes. Stolen kisses, groping hands, the teasing and taunting and loving they’d shared. She wouldn’t think about that now, not with him standing so close she could inhale the subtle scent of his aftershave, feel the warmth of his body protecting her from the cold.

It would be far too easy to fall into their old routine. Once they’d been as close as man and wife, spent every possible moment together, planning the family they would someday have, planning their future. In a single heartbeat, everything had changed.

She turned her back on him and stared at the steps leading to the house. The emptiness of her life engulfed her, shattering the conviction that she needed to come home. It was all she could do to hold herself together, to keep the grief buried deep inside where it belonged.

His hands on her shoulders brought her around to face him. The brim of his hat shadowed the emotions she might otherwise have been able to see in his eyes. His large hands moved with gentle abandon up and down the length of her arms, chasing the chill from her body, awakening the memory of skin against skin.

She wished she had the strength to force her stiff lips into the smile she reserved for her fans — brilliant and carefree and easy. Let him believe she didn’t give a damn about what she had left behind. If only she could breeze into his life and out of it with the same ease as that smile.

“You’re shivering. If you’re going to stay outside all night, I’ll grab a warmer jacket from the truck.”

“No, I’m fine.”

She wasn’t cold, not with the heat of his body awakening her own. Even as she raised her face to his so she could look at him, his hands stopped on her arms.

There was a stillness about him that she didn’t remember from the boy of the past, a watchfulness in the midnight blue of his eyes. Years ago, they had stood on this very same spot, bodies pressed together, arms holding one another close, lips fused together. Their final parting had been bittersweet and poignant. A night filled with promises she’d never kept.

Had he sensed that she wouldn’t return? Did he ever think about the past, ever wish he could turn back the clock and refuse to let her go?

Sudden tension radiated from him. He dropped his arms to his sides, his mouth tight as he glanced away. His profile might have been etched in stone, the straight, narrow nose, the strong, square jaw. “Better get inside. Sam stayed up late. Wanted to wait for your arrival.”

“Sure. Yeah. Right.” Jessie faced the porch, contemplating the steps. One, two, three — maybe if he gave her a push.

“What’s wrong?”

She started at the gruff tone of his voice, felt the warmth of him at her back, the strength and security of his presence. All she had to do was turn around and ask his forgiveness. It seemed so simple.

“Jess? Are you going in or do you want me to take you back to the airport?” Anger vibrated beneath the calmness of his voice.

“In, definitely in,” she replied as she took a deep breath, put one foot in front of the other, and headed up the steps. She twisted the knob, pushed open the door, stepped inside. The click of the latch closing behind her echoed in the sudden silence.

There was nowhere left to run and hide, so Jessie forced herself to move into the semi-darkness of the bedroom where a nightlight shone in the corner, casting shadows onto the walls. She looked past her mother to where her dad sat beside the bed, his once handsome face newly lined with worry.

Would he forgive her for staying away for so long? Her heart was bruised enough without adding more guilt to the rest.

In the mournful silence of the room, he lifted his gaze from his wife’s face, the ready laughter she remembered in his eyes gone, replaced by shades of sadness. She held her silence while he focused on her, experienced a moment of fear before recognition crossed his features.

Then the lines of sorrow on his face eased. He placed his wife’s hand on the quilt, gave it a loving pat. With hands braced on his knees, he pushed himself to his feet and came around the bed, the stiffness of old age apparent.