The Rancher's Prospect (22 page)

She sighed and glanced around her living room. It was rather dull—decent furniture, but with no distinctive character. Other than buying flowers, she rarely personalized the places she lived. The exception was a digital-photo frame that rotated through photos of her travels, sitting on the divider by the kitchen. She'd plugged it back in that morning, and the photographs on the memory card were from Great Britain.

The British Isles were beautiful, green and rich with ancient history. Yet as Tara watched one scene dissolve into another, she felt even more alone. There weren't any people she knew in the photographs, just strangers who'd seemed interesting—a fish seller in Liverpool, a child staring up in awe at a Buckingham Palace guard, that sort of thing. The slide show could have been scanned from a magazine or culled from the internet.

Tara raised her chin. The photos meant something to her because she'd seen those places and taken them. Ultimately, pictures were the only belongings she cared very much about.

Determinedly she took her camera out of her duffel bag. She copied the memory card to her computer and began going through the recent images. There were lovely shots of Montana countryside, a number of Lauren, and a great many of Walt and Josh. This would be a very different set of pictures to put in the digital frame.

Yet she hesitated. She wasn't ready to have photos of Josh in her apartment, so she carefully backed them up on a portable hard drive. It was something she usually did, but there was no denying she was taking special care this time.

In the living room was a small knickknack shelf. On it she arranged the sapphires from her pouch. She wasn't sure what to do with them. Perhaps they could be a wedding gift for Lauren and Carl. She could sell them, but she didn't need the money. And keeping the gems would be a painful reminder of Walt...and Josh.

No, she wasn't going to think about it that way. Walt would continue to be a friend, and his grandson would be a pleasant memory. After all, few women had the opportunity to swim by moonlight in a mountain hot spring pool and enjoy the company of a very proficient lover.

But now it was time to go back to her normal life and think about what came next.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

A
WEEK
AFTER
returning home, Josh and his grandfather met with Clyde Hawes to discuss their plan for operating the ranch. The birth of Emily and Trent's son had taken precedence over everything else, but with the excitement settling down, they needed the Boxing N foreman to know how things were going to operate in the future.

Questions or problems with the horses would be referred to Walt. Anything to do with the cattle would come to Josh.

Clyde was too diplomatic to comment on the arrangement, but he was clearly pleased. “One of the new guys seems to have some extra horse sense, Mr. Nelson,” he said. “If you want, I can assign him to muck out the foaling barn for a few days so you can get a feel for his work. His name is Hector Morales. He's young, but very keen. He grew up on ranch near Tulsa.”

Walt nodded. “I'll check him out.”

As Clyde left, Josh glanced toward the ranch office. “Is Tara finished sorting out the files?”

“Yes.” His grandfather's expression became dour. “She left notes on everything, including a set for you. I'll miss seeing her every day, but she's shown me how to do email.”

Josh nodded, amused. “Email is a great way to keep in touch.”

“I like Skype better,” Walt returned seriously. “That way we can see each other when we talk.”

Hearing his technology-hating grandfather casually mention Skype was almost more than Josh could handle. “I used to Skype with the family when I lived down south.”

“Yes, well, Tara has promised to keep me up to date on all her travels, one way or another.”

Pain went through Josh at the idea of Tara so far away. Never in his life could he have imagined caring for a woman the way he cared for her.

Walt cleared his throat. “I, uh, was thinking I'd like to go to the cemetery and bring flowers to Evelyn.”

Josh tried to keep his expression neutral. Grandpa had been too badly injured to attend the funeral and had refused to visit the cemetery since being released from the hospital. Josh had taken that as confirmation of how distant his grandparents' marriage had been, but no longer. Now he knew how hard it must have been for Walt to consider going to his wife's graveside. Wanting to go now might mean Walt's soul was healing as well as his body.

“Are you sure you're ready?” Josh asked.

“I think so. But if you don't mind, I'd like Tara to come with us.”

“I'll ask her.”

After Walt left, Josh considered phoning Tara, but thought it would be better to tell her the latest development in person. At her apartment he knocked, wondering if he should have called first. Then he heard her light, quick footsteps and the door opened.

“Hi.”

Instead of jeans and a T-shirt, she wore a graceful black skirt and gray blouse, with sparkling blue sapphire solitaires in her ears. Lord, she was beautiful.

“I came to ask a favor,” he said. “It's for Grandpa. He wants to bring flowers to the cemetery, and he wants you to come with us.”

“I don't know,” Tara murmured. “Visiting a grave... Isn't that a family thing?”

“Not really, and even if it was, Grandpa's wishes are what matter.”

“Yes, of course. In that case, I'll be happy to go.”

“Great. I'll call later and we can work out a good time.”

* * *

L
ATE
THE
NEXT
AFTERNOON
Josh drove his grandfather to Schuyler's community cemetery. Tara had wanted to meet them and was waiting at the gate, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

They walked toward the Nelson family plot.

“The McGregors are over there,” Walt told Tara, gesturing across the cemetery. “So I guess in the end, we're all going to rest in peace together.”

It was a curious thought that after all the rivalries and tensions between the two families, they'd lie together in common ground.

There were fresh flowers on Grandma Evelyn's grave, and Josh knew someone else had been there recently. A pang went through him; there was no sign now of where the turf had been removed and replaced. How could that much time have passed? It still seemed like yesterday.

“I need to get a proper stone,” Walt said, looking at the small metal plate with his wife's name. “Your mother wants me to choose one, but I haven't been able to do it. Makes the whole thing too real, I suppose.”

Walt bent and set down the bouquet of flowers he'd picked in the garden and along the road. “Evelyn loved the flowers she'd planted,” he said. “And she loved the flowers of Montana.”

Josh's eyes burned, remembering his grandmother working in the garden, or sitting and painting pictures of wildflowers.

“I couldn't come when you were laid here,” Walt said softly, talking to his wife. “But I hope you know how much I love you.”

As Josh glanced down and saw Tara's fingers laced with his, the memory of holding Grandma Evelyn's hand in the hospital rushed back.

“She knows, Grandpa,” Josh said, Tara's firm grasp helping him to get the words out. “I'd forgotten, but she reacted at the hospital when I told her I was going to see you.”

Walt's eyes sharpened. “Did she say anything?”

“Not with words,” Josh answered, wishing with all his heart he could say something different. “I was holding her hand, and she brushed my palm with her thumb. Three times. It was very distinct.”

Grandpa pulled in a sharp breath, and Josh saw tears gathering in his hazel eyes.

“She always did that when we held hands,” Walt said, his voice choked. “In the beginning Evelyn could never get our anniversary right. She remembered the date she'd proposed to me, but not the wedding. So I started tapping her hand four times for April, and she'd tap back three times. It was for the third of the month, to remind herself.” Walt let out a watery chuckle. “It became our special code. I used to tease that it was a good thing we hadn't gotten married on the twenty-ninth.”

Josh grinned back. “She would have lost count before getting that far.”

“Uh, why don't you two go for a walk,” Walt suggested. “I'd like to be alone with her.”

* * *

T
ARA
WALKED
BESIDE
J
OSH
, wondering how to pull her fingers free without being obvious. She'd been trying to support him, but now it seemed too intimate.

“It's really something,” he said after a few minutes. “All this time I knew something that Grandpa needed to hear, and I never realized.”

“Maybe she did it with the others, too, hoping someone would get the message through,” Tara suggested.

“Possibly.” He glanced over at her. “Has this tempted you to become a sentimentalist?”

“This isn't sentimentality,” she insisted. “It's sentiment—that's different.”

“I'm not so sure the dictionary would agree.”

The debate felt like a continuation of their discussions in the mountains. But the familiarity wasn't comforting; she needed distance, not friendship with Josh.

“By the way,” he murmured, “thanks for coming today.”

“I haven't done anything.”

“You didn't need to. Being here was enough.”

“I'm surprised Walt didn't ask his daughter.”

“After the weeks we all just spent together, I think it seemed right.”

It did feel right, and that was part of the problem. Tara wasn't sure how to handle the sense of connection. Her life had been so much simpler when Walt had been her only friend and Josh was an annoyance.

Caring about Josh was far more dangerous.

* * *

L
AUREN
STUDIED
THE
ENTRIES
on the internet, made her decision and picked up the phone to make an appointment with a counselor in Helena. There might be someone closer, but she wanted a person unlikely to ever become otherwise acquainted with her or Carl.

Briefly she explained to the receptionist what she wanted to discuss. The first appointment was set, and she put the receiver down, knowing it was the right decision. Still, it was daunting to think about telling a stranger the story of her childhood.

She hurried to the stove and took out the pot roast she'd prepared. Carl would be at the apartment at five for his dinner break—he was working an evening shift this week.

Half an hour later, she opened the door at his knock. “Hi,” she said as cheerfully as possible.

Carl gave her a heart-stopping kiss but afterward gazed down at her in concern.

“Something up?”

“Nothing, it's just that I...” She hadn't intended to tell him about the counseling appointments. On the other hand, she'd have to be gone for the better part of a day whenever she went, and he'd be curious. Besides, it seemed dishonest, even if she wasn't directly lying.

“Darling?” he prompted.

“I...um, just made an appointment with a counselor in Helena.”

He frowned worriedly. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“
No.
But it might help with my...issues.”

“I thought we were working on them together.”

“We are,” Lauren assured quickly.

When her old boyfriend had suggested counseling, she'd known their relationship was ending. But she also hadn't loved him the way she loved Carl.

“I love you,” he said intently. “You can trust me. I'm not going anywhere.”

She knew in a way he was trying to convince her she didn't need a counselor; deep down he might even be hurt because it might sound as if she
didn't
trust him. But trust wasn't the question—it was because she cared so much that she wanted to deal with her fears.

It was ironic; this was their first disagreement. He'd said he wanted her to speak up when it happened. She had to have faith that he'd meant it.

“I know you love me.” Her throat was so tight it hurt. “Everyone thinks love is enough, and maybe it should be. But I have enough experience now to be aware that sometimes love
and
counseling is best.”

Carl gazed into her eyes for a long time.

“Okay,” he murmured finally.

“What if...” Lauren's heart pounded. “What if the counselor wants you to come to some of the appointments?”

He pulled her close. “I'll go,” he promised. “If that's what you need, I'll go.”

Relief washed over her. She probably should have talked to a counselor years ago. She'd just never had enough incentive until now.

As they ate dinner and discussed it further, Lauren saw that Carl was getting used to the idea. She was serving their dessert when his cell phone rang.

At the end of the call, he jumped to his feet. “Sorry, honey. This isn't an emergency, but I have to deal with it.”

Lauren kissed him, knowing she'd always worry, even when it wasn't an emergency. “Are you coming over after you get off duty?” she asked.

“You'll be in bed by then, but I'll call to let you know I'm home safe.”

A smile curved her lips. “You can tell me that in person just as well. And there are other benefits to delivering a message...personally.”

A chuckle rumbled through him. “You are
so
right. I'll see you later.”

* * *

I
N
THE
DAYS
following the trip to the cemetery, Tara tried to forget the mixed emotions it had evoked.

During the daytime it wasn't too difficult. Several businesses in town still wanted her services, so she dived in, working longer hours than usual.

At night it got harder.

When looking for possible family, she'd done other research and learned that her parents were buried in the Los Angeles area. Though she didn't remember them, it seemed wrong that their graves were marked with just a number, so she'd ordered a stone to be placed. But the idea of their grave had been rather abstract, not unlike the tombs she'd visited of famous people. Those places were solemn and meaningful, of course, but not as emotional as seeing a family plot and the name of Josh's grandmother on a temporary grave marker.

The grief on his face had hurt more than she'd thought possible.

Then on Friday evening, Tara came home at seven to find Josh sitting on the front doorstep, leaning against her apartment door.

“Hi,” he said. “I'd love company for dinner and was hoping you'd take pity on me.”

She eyed him. “You have a huge family and plenty of friends, I'm sure. Can't one of them keep you company?”

“I don't know anybody else who can turn freeze-dried stew into a delicious meal. It's only right I feed you.”

Knowing it would be wiser to refuse, Tara nodded. “All right. Give me a few minutes to change my clothes.”

She almost balked at letting him into the apartment, but after their intimacy in the mountains, making him wait outside would be ridiculous.

“Wear something casual,” he called as she started into the bedroom.

Pizza
, she thought. They were probably going to a pizza parlor.

But apparently she'd guessed wrong. Josh drove through town to the county park where she and Lauren often walked. The two of them had begun meeting again in the early mornings, but it was different now. Lauren was looking forward to being married and all that it meant.

“I brought a picnic,” he explained.

Tara hiked an eyebrow. “Haven't you had enough alfresco meals for a while?”

“Not a chance. After so much time outside, the house is oppressive. It's like living in a box.”

“I know what you mean.” Tara would have mentioned plumbing as one of the minor compensations, but she didn't want to evoke images of the hot spring pool where they'd bathed and done
other
things... She still didn't want to call it making love.