Always Remember (7 page)

Clamping her mouth shut, she turned on her heel and ran down the steps. Nate stumbled after her, his legs as tired as his brain, and caught himself before he went after her.

All the way across the yard and into his house, one thought kept him from going after her to find out what she’d been about to say.

Sara.

Jessie had to be gone by the time Sara returned.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Damn stubborn female. Going to take after her sire, she is.” Sam stroked one hand down the foal’s flank. “Hale, boy, you sure Nate got her to eat before he went up to the house?”

“Yes, sir. You know he wouldn’t have gone otherwise.” Hale rubbed his palm against the growth of whiskers darkening his chin, his eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot from lack of sleep. “Poor baby. Abandoned by her mama. Even if it was unintentional.”

Guilt seeped through Jessie. She pushed it away as she straightened from her crouched position on the floor and stretched the tired muscles in her back. “Dad, what do we do? If we wait much longer, we risk losing her, don’t we? Do you want me to wake Nate?”

“Yep. Might as well. Looks like this little one has gone and attached herself to him. Won’t eat from anyone else.”

Jessie turned and promptly bumped into a solid mass of muscle.

Nate.
How did he do that, sneak up without making a sound? She ignored the familiarity of his hands on her shoulders and the shimmer of awareness racing through her body. “Where did you come from?”

“I’m never far away.” As she moved out of reach, the barest hint of a smile eased the taunt line of his mouth and the fatigue from his eyes. His gaze settled on Sam. “What’s up?”

Sam braced his hands on his thighs and pushed himself to a standing position, his old bones creaking. “Won’t eat.”

With a frown, Nate scratched his unshaven chin. His gaze darted from the filly to Jessie, then back to the filly. “I don’t have time to feed her. Someone else is going to have to do it.”

Hale leaned one shoulder against the stable door and asked, “Want me to do it, sir?”

“You don’t have time, either, son.”

“Sara would want—”

“I said no, Hale. You’ve got enough chores.” His gaze settled on Jessie. Reluctant. Measuring.

Uh oh. She backed up a step. “Why are you looking at me like that? I already told you I’d help take care of the filly.”

“Even if it means being a substitute mom?” Without waiting for her answer, he gestured for her to move around to the other side of the bucket so they flanked the foal. As he crouched down and she followed suit, his gaze caught hers. “Trust me?”

“When you ask like that...no.”

A smile lit his eyes. He reached across the bucket and caught her hand. Jessie stared mesmerized as palm to palm, he laced his fingers together with hers.

“This is how you get a stubborn foal to eat.” His deep, sleep-rusty voice washed over her, bringing back memories of a young man greeting her the morning after they’d made love for the first time. “Jess? You paying attention, sweetheart? You’re going to have to do this by yourself, you know.”

Oh boy, she was paying attention all right, but to physical needs long ignored and a man she had no right to want. Jessie forced herself to focus. “So what are we doing here?”

“Position your index finger along the length of mine.”

His hand felt warm and comfortable against her own. She bit her lip and tried not to think of other things he was capable of doing with his hands. Awareness rushed to her stomach, sent it diving toward her toes.

“Now, we dunk our fingers into the milk and—”

Nate lifted their fingers toward the filly and Jessie watched fascinated as the foal latched on to the offering and suckled. The white liquid trickled down her hand toward her wrist, leaving a path of sensitized flesh behind.

Hale crouched down in front of the pail. “It’ll take forever to feed her like that.”

“Patience, son. We’re not done yet.”

Slowly Nate lowered their hands toward the bucket, making sure their fingers didn’t leave the filly’s mouth. The newborn followed their hands into the milk, until finally she was lapping from the liquid in the pail. Jessie raised her gaze to Nate’s face and found him watching her, all signs of fatigue gone.

“How does that feel?” he murmured.

“Strange,” she managed. But if truth be known, it felt as if she’d come home to the boy she remembered, the man he’d become. Self-conscious, she tugged her hand free of his grasp and straightened.

“Whoa, not so fast.” His voice was soothing, comforting, like he was talking to a wild animal. Jessie stilled and watched him push the filly’s head out of the pail. “Now you try it alone, Jess.”

Damn. Why was he doing this to her? Didn’t he realize he was turning her insides to liquid? Jessie suffocated a groan of frustration and returned to her knees.

As she’d done before, she stuck her finger in the bucket of milk and lifted it to the foal’s mouth.
 

Nothing. The foal bunted her head against Nate’s thigh.

“What’s wrong?” She stared up at him, uncertain what to do, wishing she didn’t feel those same urges she’d felt in her youth. If they didn’t have an audience, if they didn’t have the foal to care for, she’d like nothing better than to have her way with him.

Nate knelt down, captured her hand again and excitement tumbled her stomach. As the foal took their fingers into her mouth and started sucking, Jessie’s gaze met Nate’s.

He pulled their fingers free, stuck them in the milk, and lifted their hands toward the foal. Each time he did so, he brought the foal closer to the milk. Jessie’s jumbled thoughts focused on the sensual suggestion of that suckling motion. She wanted to squeeze her eyes shut, ignore the unexpected heat that washed over her, ignore the answering heat in Nate’s eyes.

But she couldn’t. As if reading her thoughts, Nate suddenly released her hand and straightened. “That’s all there is to it.”

She looked down at the foal still sucking on her finger and lapping at the milk. Then Nate pushed the filly’s head out of the bucket.

“Try it by yourself again.”

He moved away to stand with her dad. Conscious of his gaze on her, she repeated the actions until the filly was drinking from the bucket again. A smile spreading across her face, she pulled her hand out of the milk, wiped it on her pant leg, and stroked her hand against the marking on the filly’s forehead.

The foal still needed a name. From beneath the curtain of her lashes, she glanced toward Nate, then decided to keep her mouth shut. Why ruin his good mood?

Satisfied that the foal was eating well, she straightened and caught Hale’s attempt to smother a yawn. As far as she knew, the poor kid hadn’t slept a wink last night.

She caught Nate’s gaze and indicated with her chin that he check out Hale. He took one glance at the kid and a guilty flush stole across his sun-darkened features.

“Hale, get some sleep before you fall on your face,” he ordered.

Instantly, Hale stifled a yawn and straightened. He grabbed a bale of hay from the edge of the stall and started spreading it. “I got work to do, sir.”

As she watched Nate shrug and turn his back on the boy, the need to mother and protect hit Jessie. Gritting her teeth, she approached him and tugged on the back of his jacket. He turned to face her, one eyebrow raised.

“While you were sleeping the morning away, Hale was here. He hasn’t had a wink of sleep all night.”

The muscles in his jaw flexed as he shot the kid a look. “He’s a man full grown, capable of making his own decisions. If he falls asleep in a pile of horse manure, it’s his own fault for being stubborn.”

“He’s just a kid,” she protested.

An angry light flickered in his eyes, then vanished so quickly, Jessie wondered if she’d imagined it.

“But he’s not mine and he’s not yours either, Jess,” he answered softly. “Hale doesn’t have a curfew. If he misses a payment on that expensive little sports car he bought, he doesn’t come to me for help.”

“He’s been up all night—”

“So have you.” Even though he maintained an air of calmness, Jessie felt the tension within him and wondered why her interference upset him. First with the foal. Now with Hale.

“I’m not his keeper, Jess, so leave it alone.”

Later that day, Jessie wondered how Hale was doing, if he’d found a nice quiet corner sometime during the day and caught a few minutes rest.

Probably not. More than likely, he was following Sam or Nate around, soaking up their knowledge and experience. Maybe he had dreams of one day owning a spread of his own. Being his own boss. Making all the decisions.

She paused outside her mother’s bedroom door and watched Harley smooth wrinkles from the bed sheets, straighten edges, tuck away corners. Meticulous and gentle with the thin, frail body of her patient, she worked her way down the length of the bed, smoothed the sheet a final time, then skirted the bed to start on the other side. The soles of her shoes were silent against the hardwood floor.

Harley glanced her way, the lines on her face easing as her somber expression gave way to an easy smile. “Hey, Jess. Come on in. Your mom’ll be so glad to see you.”

“Maybe I should come back later. I wouldn’t want to wake her.”

“Nonsense. Come talk to her. She’ll enjoy hearing your voice.”

Talk to her? About what?

Once, they’d been able to talk about anything and everything. But over the years, their phone conversations had become stilted, uncomfortable. They were like two strangers meeting for the first time — wary of what they said, super-sensitized by the secret they shared.

With a final pat on the quilt, Harley gathered up the soiled bed sheets and crossed to Jessie’s side. She paused, her gaze steady, understanding. “She takes great pleasure in hearing about life outside this room. Why don’t you tell her about the new filly?”

Emotions she’d struggled so long to contain tightened Jessie’s throat.

What she really wanted to discuss was the letter she’d received. The possibility of meeting her daughter for the first time ever and the chance that Maude might finally meet her, too.

Did her mother ever wonder about the granddaughter she never knew?

She swallowed the question and forced herself to take another step into the room. “You’re doing so much here, Harley. How about if I make supper tonight?”

“It’s part of my job. Nate pays me, you know.” A self-depreciating laugh escaped the nurse. “Not that I should be taking it, after all your parents did for me. But I still need to pay the mortgage, eat, put gas into my car.”

She sounded as guilty as Jessie felt. She looked tired, too, as though she wasn’t sleeping well. Harley had grown to love Jessie’s parents as though they were her own.

Well, she had no intention of putting more pressure on her friend. “You stay out of the kitchen while I’m here, understand? The least I can do is cook for you and Dad. What were you planning to make for supper tonight?”

Harley wrinkled her nose. “Soup and sandwiches. It’s quick and easy. Sam and I haven’t felt much like eating lately.”

“I’ll take care of the meals from now on.” She reached for the sheets and tried to pull them out of her friend’s arms. “I can do the laundry, too. You shouldn’t have to do everything around here.”

Firmly holding on to the sheets, Harley backed down the hallway. “Don’t be spoiling me, Jessie. I’ll let you cook because you know I hate cooking. But if you really want to help me out, you’ll spend time with your mom so I can get other things done.”

Was everyone on the ranch this stubborn?

Jessie let go of the sheets and watched Harley saunter down the hallway toward the laundry room. Then she ventured into the room, stopped at the edge of the bed, and gently took her mother’s hand into her own. “Hi, Mom. It’s me, Jessie.”

No response.

She glanced around the semi-darkened room. A breeze caught the curtain, pushed it aside, allowed a ray of sunlight to enter. Jessie set her mother’s hand back on the sheet and wandered toward the window. Pushing the curtain aside, she peered out at the yard.

Beyond the somber silence of the room, life carried on. She caught sight of her father hefting bales of hay with the strength of a man twenty years younger. He paused in his labor and glanced toward the house. The sudden realization of how lonely he’d be when his wife passed on nearly broke her heart.

Letting the curtain fall back into place, she turned and clasped her hands together behind her back, rocked back and forth on her feet. Heel to toe, heel to toe. Her gaze flitted around the room, caught by the pictures gracing the walls.

Photos of her mother as a young woman, standing center stage, her face lit with excitement and so full of life. Her wedding day, the joy still there. Then Sam at the hospital posing with the new mother and baby. Jessie studied the familiar picture, for the first time recognizing the sadness in her mother’s eyes.

Maude had once been a popular performer in the Calgary music circle, but she’d given it all up when she’d become pregnant. She’d never let Jessie forget it, either. Every piano lesson, every singing lesson, she was there to remind Jessie that she’d done it for her.