Autumn Promises (6 page)

M
eg returned from the hospital just in time to wash up and carry a big soup tureen full of Xandra’s hearty chili to the table. She set it next to a basket of fry bread Crystal had whipped up. Everyone gathered around the table and automatically joined hands to pray as soon as she sat—all but Evan. He missed a beat, then looking terribly self-conscious, finally reached out for her hand and Xandra’s. When Evan remained silent, not taking the lead in prayer as the head of the household, Cole smoothly stepped in and began to pray over the meal, almost covering the awkward moment.

Unfortunately, Evan’s touch distracted Meg so much she didn’t have a clue what her nephew said. All she could think about was the way Evan’s hand engulfed hers, the feel of his work-roughened palm against her knuckles. Its strength. Its warmth.

“So how was Beth today?” Jim asked, bringing her out of her thoughts. Meg’s gaze flew to Evan’s. He was still holding her hand. She stared into his eyes, unable to look away for a prolonged moment. When Cole cleared his throat, Evan blinked and let go of her hand, as if coming out of a trance. He looked down at his plate, but she continued to stare at the top of his head.

“I’d say about the same,” Cole answered Jim, ignoring them. “She spiked another high fever about the time Aunt Meg got there.”

Hearing her name finally pulled Meg back to the conversation and she managed to add, “Jack was beside himself.”

But as if drawn by some invisible force, Meg glanced at Evan just as he looked back up, confusion and worry warring in his gaze. “He’d had such high hopes for this new antibiotic,” he said, his voice sounding husky and strained.

Was he worried about Beth? Or because of that…that moment they might or might not have shared? She prayed her own quick prayer for support, then forced her mind back to the purpose of her visit to Colorado.

“He did have high hopes. Her doctor hasn’t given up on it, but he did say he had something stronger waiting in the wings. We prayed together and that seemed to settle them both down. Jack always takes
comfort in his faith, and it seemed to ease Beth so she could rest.”

“Has he been letting you spell him, Cole?” Evan asked.

“He got about six hours’ sleep last night and looked a lot better for it.” Cole grimaced. “At least until Beth’s fever spiked.”

“I got permission to take the babies in to see her,” Meg told Evan. “We’re hoping seeing them will raise her spirits. Could you make the trip with me tomorrow?”

Evan frowned and quickly shook his head. “Can’t…I…uh…I have a meeting in Denver first thing Monday. I was going to change my plans but when all these guys flew out I realized I didn’t need to. I’d planned to leave right after church tomorrow and stay overnight at a friend’s house. Maybe Crystal and Jim could help. It’d be good practice for them.”

“We’d be glad to,” Crystal said. “I’d hoped to go see Beth tomorrow anyway.”

“Is it safe for the babies to be near her?” Evan wondered, his concern clear on his face. At first Meg was relieved that all they shared was a mutual love for Jack, Beth and the babies, but something sharp and aware in his expression nagged at her. She shook it off and replied, “The doctor said it’s perfectly safe to take them in.”

Cole cleared his throat, and she realized that once again her attention had been so ensnared by Evan that
she had ignored the others. She glanced at Cole and found her nephew staring at her, his gaze both curious and speculative. Then he winked and she knew just what he was thinking—what he’d seen. Dismayed by the telltale blush she felt heat her cheeks, she decided any protest would open up a conversation she wanted to avoid at all costs.

So she steered the conversation to the honeymoon trip Crystal and Jim had taken, and the topic stuck on travel for a while. She told them about her past travels and had them all laughing about one trip she’d taken on the spur of the moment. It had been during a very uncomfortable period when Cole first returned to live at Laurel Glen after years away. Cole and Ross had been engaged in a father-son war that had her itching to throttle both of them. She’d taken the expression “take the high road” literally and had simply left!

Cole teased her about a few other spontaneous trips she’d taken over the years, accusing her of deserting a sinking ship. She teased him right back, saying if that were so, then he’d often been the torpedo.

She should have known Cole wouldn’t be that easily put off by her change of topic, even though he’d gone along with it. He’d inherited a full measure of Taggert tenacity. She was sure she’d escaped until she was just about finished cleaning up the kitchen.
As she rinsed the sink, Cole’s arms stole around her waist from behind and he wrapped her in a bear hug.

“Am I about to lose my favorite aunt to the wilds of Colorado?” he whispered, then stepped back, allowing her to dry her hands and turn to face him. As she did, he hitched his hip onto the sturdy trestle table behind him and crossed his arms. “Do I need to ask Evan Alton his intentions?” he asked, a teasing light in his eyes belying his frown.

“What on earth are you talking about?” She, too, crossed her arms, leaning back against the sink.

“Come off it. We all saw the way you and Evan looked at each other. No, make that couldn’t take your eyes off each other. When you weren’t sending little glances in his direction, he was sneaking peeks at you. What gives?”

“Are you talking about romance?” she demanded, deciding to play dumb after all. What did she have to lose? He grinned slowly in answer. She might be busted, but she wasn’t going down without a fight. “Between Evan and me? Well, get that out of your foolish head right now. Goodness, can’t two people share a…a concern for their child without it having overtones of…of…” Words failed her.

“Attraction? Interest? Happily ever after?” His grin widened.

“Foolishness? Disaster? Heartache?” she countered. “I’ve been down that road, Cole. I have no
desire
to go there again. I’ve yet to recover from the first time.”

“First time? Is there a second?” he asked, his gaze sharpening. “Come on, Meg. Evan’s a good-looking guy. And a good man. Why let ancient history stand in your way? You have nearly half your life yet to live. Do you really want to live it alone?”

“I am not alone! My life is more full of loved ones now than ever. I don’t need a man to worry about. I have Jack and Beth and the twins. I have Ross and Amelia and their children. Hope, Jeff and theirs. You and CJ and any children you two have. And what was that grimace about?” What a perfect opportunity to change the subject. “Is there a problem we need to hash out?”

“Don’t go trying to change the subject. We were talking about you.”

“We have. The subject is now closed. In fact, there was no subject in the first place. Now, sit! What is going on between you and CJ? I knew you were driving her crazy after she was hurt, but is there more to it than that?”

Cole sat, his broad shoulders slumping a bit. “I guess I said some stupid things after the accident. I think I’m messing this marriage up.” There was real fear in his voice. “I love her so much. I can’t lose her.”

Meg sat across from him. She’d seen this coming even before the wedding, but she’d hoped he’d see
what he was doing. “Are you still trying to make things fit that mythical fairy tale you see as the perfect life for CJ? I’m afraid it may be coming off as if you’re trying to remake her.”

His chocolate eyes widened. “Oh-oh. That’s an awful lot like what she said. What am I doing that’s so wrong?”

“Trying too hard. Not listening to her real wishes. You insisted on a long courtship and a big wedding when CJ would just as soon have knocked on Jim Dillon’s door and been married in his kitchen.”

“I wanted her to have all the stuff she’d done without all those years. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, if those were the things she’d wanted. I went along because she was willing and I honestly thought she might look back with regret on a small affair. Shopping for that dress and trousseau was sheer torture for her, but I thought the wedding and extended honeymoon would be the end of it as far as you were concerned. I thought it had been. Now, what happened that she sent you here when she should have wanted you with her?”

He hesitated. “She wanted to have a baby.”

Meg’s eyes widened. “And you don’t?”

“I wanted her to quit first, but—”

“Quit working at Laurel Glen?” That made no sense at first, then light dawned. His mother’s death. “Oh, Cole, what did you say?”

Cole just shrugged. “That I didn’t want the mother
of my children killed like—” he began, then she watched as horror dawned on her nephew’s face.

She held up her hand. “Never mind. I think my imagination will fill in the rest. You march yourself upstairs and pack. I’ll call the airlines and book a flight home for you. You can ride into Denver with Evan. Then you go home and crawl to her. You tell CJ you love her just as she is. You tell her your children will be lucky to have a mother as talented as she is. And you make it clear that she can keep her job if she wants, and have as many babies as she wants at the same time.”

“She could die and leave us all alone.” Cole all but cried.

“Like your mother did.” Meg paused and let that bald fact speak for itself. “You know Ross is nearly pathological about the safety of the animals CJ trains at Laurel Glen. Yes, accidents do happen. And, yes, one dangerous horse slipped through the cracks recently and CJ was hurt. I imagine the new foreman is looking for a job about now?”

Cole nodded.

“Cole, Beth could die tonight. Right now. Of
sickness.
None of us knows how long we have on this earth. You have to put what happened to your mother behind you once and for all. The Lord put you and CJ together to have a future. Not to relive the past. He wants you to live. To love. To flourish. Now, go home and do all three and stop looking back!”

Cole nodded and smiled sadly. “I guess I should have talked to you before.” He turned to go, but stopped and pivoted back. “You know that passage from the New Testament? I think it’s toward the beginning of Matthew 7? Jesus asks why we see the speck in our brother’s eye, but don’t seem to notice the plank in our own. Take your own advice, sweetheart. Live. Love. Be happy. You deserve it more than anyone I know.” He winked and was gone.

Meg stared at his retreating back. The little sneak. He’d really nailed her with that one. She shook her head and stood. Her thoughts were in too much of a turmoil to do any good just then. Instead she went looking for a phone book.

She didn’t have time for foolish introspection about impossibilities. Evan was her complete opposite. He’d spent years avoiding loved ones. She’d spent her life embracing them and helping them weather crises. He was so entrenched on the ranch that he wouldn’t even consider traveling to visit Crystal and Jim to watch his grandchildren grow. She loved travel and adventure.

No, she and Evan were polar opposites. And she didn’t want a man anyway. Been there. Done that. Burned her commemorative T-shirt long ago.

E
van sat in his cabin staring into the flames of the fireplace. He’d been unsettled since he’d left Dr. Campbell’s office the day before, more troubled than when he went in. For the second session in a row she’d talked about his recovery in such worldly terms that he’d begun to feel uncomfortable. Jackson had said all along that he should seek out a Christian counselor, and Evan was now sure his son was right. He and his psychiatrist were further apart than he’d thought.

Since Meg had arrived, he’d noticed the way she and all the visiting easterners relied on their faith on a daily basis. He’d tried to pray for Beth. Had prayed. But he had a hard time believing God would honor his prayers, because he didn’t really believe God would heal her. He hadn’t spared Martha. Why would He spare Beth?

It was a real reminder of how far he’d drifted from the man he’d been when he’d had Martha and her parents in his life. In fact, while listening to Dr. Campbell go on and on with her cynical view of where he needed to go next in his life, he’d realized Martha might not have agreed to marry the man he was today. It was a real wake-up call.

His psychiatrist thought he should start dating again, but she didn’t seem to be able to grasp his point of view on dating in general. She thought he was making excuses, because she saw dating as an end in itself. A no-strings exercise that led to mutual satisfaction for both parties. He saw dating as a beginning that signaled a desire to explore the future commitment of marriage. He wasn’t ready for that kind of step. He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to be. Because he never wanted to feel the loss of a life partner again.

Martha was the only woman he’d ever dated, and that was with marriage in mind from that first town dance he’d taken her to. They’d known each other well by then and he’d been courting her as his future wife. Courting was an old-fashioned word and concept, but it was the one that fit. Maybe it wasn’t so much old-fashioned as small-town. Dating, to him, was a time of getting to know someone you were already nearly sure you wanted to marry.

Meg’s face popped into his mind, shocking Evan.
Why had it not been Martha he’d seen in his mind’s eye?

“Because Martha’s your past,” he said aloud. And he knew it was true.

But that didn’t mean Meg was his future, his mind protested. It couldn’t. There wasn’t going to be a wife in his future. He’d admit he was aware of her as he had been of no other woman in nearly thirty years. Meg was a striking woman. It was no small wonder he’d noticed her. Especially with her practically living under his roof.

Two nights ago at dinner was a prime example. He knew she’d thought his delay in joining hands at dinner was an unfamiliarity with prayer at the table, but that wasn’t the case. It was a very real reluctance to touch her. One split second of having her soft hand in his and his mind had short-circuited. But it was clear she didn’t share his problem.

Thank heaven for small favors.

Evan heard a knock on the cabin door. He glanced at the clock on the mantel. It was ten o’clock in the morning. Praying it wasn’t bad news, he went to the door. It was ironic, given his earlier thoughts, that it was Meg on his doorstep. She’d steered clear of the cabin. She looked as if she were dressed to go into Greeley again. Soft-looking pastel wool slacks hugged her hips and a matching silky-looking shirt the same pale blue color topped off the outfit.

“Meg! Is something wrong?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Oh. Good. Then what can I do for you?”

“You can start by inviting me in,” she told him, her voice sharply reminiscent of her first days there.

He didn’t want visions of her in the cabin in his mind, but saw no choice but to acquiesce. He gestured toward the living-room area. She was clearly annoyed. What had he done to put a burr under her saddle? He stirred up the fire, then realized he was only putting off the inevitable confrontation. Settling in the chair across from the sofa where she sat, he asked, “What’s on your mind?”

“I want to know why you didn’t go to the hospital on your way past Greeley yesterday.”

Evan stilled. Oh. She’d noticed. He’d hoped staying away from the main house all day and night would help him dodge that particular question. “I’m not much for hospitals,” he replied flatly. He wasn’t ready to get into this, but he wouldn’t lie either.

“I wasn’t sure until I talked to Jack a little while ago, but he confirmed what I suspected. You haven’t been to see Beth even once.”

He shrugged, trying for nonchalance. When her eyes widened and her nostrils flared, Evan realized his error. He’d been without a woman in his life too long to handle these things on the fly. It had been his problem with Cris. Invariably his first inclinations were okay on Mars but a disaster on Venus.

“You say you want a good relationship with Jack,
but you can’t even be bothered to go see his wife—his precariously ill wife. How can you treat them this way?”

He stood. If the best defense was a good offense, then he was in trouble, because he didn’t have one. She was right. So he borrowed another tried-and-true battle plan—he who runs away lives to fight another day.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he grated, and stalked to the door. Grabbing his jacket and hat as he passed the clothes tree, he headed for the barn under a full head of steam. She’d have a time of it negotiating the cracked stone of the drive in her soft-soled shoes, and that would give him all the time he needed.

He heard her shouting after him as he rode bare-back out of the yard. It had been years since he’d ridden off in the face of problems. The last time was the day Frank Waring died, leaving Evan to carry on with the ranch at barely nineteen, just weeks before his wedding to Martha. He’d been tempted to keep on riding then, riding right into the sunset. He felt the same way today. But his promise to Frank had weighed on him then as well as his love for Martha, and he’d turned around, taking on what had felt to his young shoulders like the weight of the world. He’d kept his promise to Frank, but there was still the one he’d made to Martha. The one he’d spent years breaking and was breaking once again.

He should be there at Northern Colorado Medical, supporting Jackson. But he couldn’t—he just couldn’t—go to that hospital and watch his son experience the same nightmare he had. History was repeating itself, but this time there’d be no Mary Waring to help raise a boy and a girl. Was Jackson any more equipped to handle that than Evan had been?

He slowed at Half-Pint Springs and dismounted. Apple Boy, his sides heaving, nuzzled him, making Evan feel a second weight of guilt. Grabbing the quarter horse by the halter, Evan walked him for a while to cool him down, then tore up clumps of grass and rubbed the lathered animal down with them. After what felt like the right amount of time, he let Apple Boy have a drink before turning him loose to do a little wandering. At that point Evan didn’t care if the quarter horse wandered all the way back to the compound. Being stranded would give him that much longer to get a handle on his feelings.

With the innocent animal cared for, Evan sank onto a rock. As he looked out over the lonely plains, the nearby rippling water, he felt a bit calmer. He glanced up, letting the sunshine hit his face. The sun hung like a ball of fire in the sky, but in spite of the warmth of the day, it was apparent to Evan that winter would soon return with a vengeance. Fluffy clouds swept across the blue horizon like windblown cotton. Oh, yeah. There’d be snow and subzero tem
peratures within a day. It was easy to read the signs after seeing them all these years.

Evan wished signs of other impending calamities were as easy to read. If they were, he might have walked on by the Warings’ place that day. Barring that, he’d have told Jackson of his adoption so he’d never have gone in search of Meg Taggert and Laurel Glen. His son would never have met Elizabeth Boyer and wouldn’t be glued to her side right now as she struggled for life.

He sat for a long time, staring out across the water, as the wind kicked up a little more. He knew he shouldn’t stay there much longer, but the peace of the place—of the moment—was hard to abandon.

The clatter of hooves on the hard-packed ground broke the peace minutes later. He knew Meg had followed before he even looked her way. Pretty as she was, the woman was a bulldog!

She dismounted and ground tied Glory, then stomped right up to him. She’d changed clothes. Now she wore a quilted jacket and jeans that she’d tucked into her riding boots. Planting her hands on her hips, she just glared at him, her chest heaving as much as Apple Boy’s had been.

“Generally a man gets to have a little peace out here,” Evan charged, trying to look unaffected by her sudden appearance. But then again, what frame of mind did she expect to find him in after the way he’d ridden away? He uncrossed his ankles and stood, try
ing to make her back up a step. She held her ground even though it forced her to look up at him, her neck at an angle that exposed her long graceful throat. He took another step. Still she didn’t give an inch, keeping that pugnacious expression on her face. Fine, maybe a rip-roaring fight would keep her at bay. “But then again a lady would generally know to leave a man alone when he seeks his own company.”

She pursed her lips at that and turned away. He thought he’d won but she stopped after half a dozen steps, crossed her arms and whirled back to him, her blue eyes twin flames of fury. “My father said no one who did what I did for a living could ever be considered a lady again. I had to battle everything from poverty to lechers to get where I did, but I got there. I won. I
like
to win. If that makes me other than a lady, so be it. I don’t care what you or anyone thinks of me. Not when I see you hurting Jack again. I made you his father by virtue of the adoption and if I have anything to say about it, you’re going to be there for him this time.”

Evan felt as if his head were going to explode. It had been too quick a transition from serenity to turmoil. He just couldn’t seem to juggle it. His legendary calm deserted him. “You
don’t
have anything to say about it,” he yelled. “Frankly, neither do I. I
can’t
go there! If I do she’ll die. Don’t you see that?”

She looked at him as if he’d come unhinged. Well, maybe it did sound that way. But a man had his pride,
and he didn’t need a woman he was attracted to standing there looking at him as if he was crazy. “Look, lady, just leave me alone!” he shouted.

“I thought I wasn’t a
lady,
” she said, clearly trying to egg him on.

It worked. He yanked off his hat and slammed it down on the rock. “You stand there all superior. Let me tell you something. You think you had it tough finding out Wade Jackson had been killed. Well, you don’t know tough. You didn’t watch him slip away an inch at a time. You didn’t watch the confusion on Jackson’s face when his mother couldn’t lift him anymore. Or the anguish on hers when she couldn’t find the strength to hold Cris’s bottle. You didn’t have to try getting her to eat, even though you knew that because of the radiation it would come back up anyway. You didn’t have to hold her hand when some doctor said there was no hope—that she’d never see her baby girl take her first step. Never see Jackson go to his first day of school.”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “Wade Jackson kissed you goodbye at an airport healthy and strong. Martha died in my arms, and it took six long months for it to finally happen!

“You think I can watch Jackson go through that all over again? He saw it all. Now I’m seeing it from his side. Jackson understands why I’m not there.”