When It's Right (16 page)

Dee laughed. “I have a feeling he'll idle beside her as long as it takes for her to decide to go along with him. Or knowing Gillian, she'll ask him to step out of his comfort zone and detour down the path she's on now.”

“I know my son. He'll go anywhere she wants, because he's finally found someone who stopped him in his tracks.”

“Let's hope they both find what they're looking for.”

“I think they already have, now they just need to find a way to make it work and let it bloom into a lasting future.”

Justin ran to both of them and threw his arms around Gillian and Blake's legs, holding onto both of them.

Joan's eyes softened on them. “They make a nice picture.” Joan hoped the reality would be even better.

 

Chapter 17

G
illian accompanied Grandma Dee into town to do the grocery shopping. Justin wanted to come with them until Blake promised to take him riding again. Gillian couldn't blame Justin for staying behind. She found herself drawn to the horses, especially the wounded and sick ones.

“I've lost you,” Grandma Dee said. She pulled the truck into a parking space outside the market and stared over at her.

“Sorry. I got lost in thought.”

“Thinking about Blake?” The hint of a knowing smile and the glint in Dee's eyes made Gillian smile.

“No. The horses.” And Blake, too. Always Blake.

“You're very good with them. Why, in just ten days Boots has improved remarkably. He eats regularly now. Even the vet said he's got more energy, and his blood work has improved.”

“It's the feed mix Blake put together for him. High calories with lots of vitamins and minerals.”

“You soothed Rocky after he hurt his leg on the track.”

Gillian slid from the truck seat, closed the door, and walked around the truck to join Grandma Dee. They walked toward the grocery store.

“The vet said it's a mild sprain.”

“You seemed very interested in what Dr. Potts did and had to say about Rocky.”

“Once upon a time, I thought I might like to be a vet,” she admitted.

“Why once upon a time? Why not now?”

“It always seemed a dream out of reach. I spent all my time scraping together the money my dad drank or smoked away instead of paying the bills. Although I had the grades to get into college, I didn't have the money.”

“Why not a student loan?”

Gillian grabbed a cart inside the store and followed her grandmother. “Sure, that would help, but then I'd have to come up with living expenses and babysitting or daycare money for Justin. I saved some money, hoping one day I'd have enough to take Justin and set us up in our own place. I hoped once he was in first grade and in school for more than half the day I could maybe take some classes at a junior college. Get a start on becoming something more than a dishwasher, waitress, bookkeeper.”

“Is that what you'd like to do? We could look into some of the colleges and see what is available to you. Your grandfather and I will help you.”

“I'm not sure. I've never had the time to really think about what I want to do. Being a vet seemed a good choice. I love animals. They seem to like me.”

“The horses sure do take to you.”

“That's just it. I really like working with them. Especially the wounded and sick animals. I've enjoyed nursing Boots back to health. I'd like to keep at it. Right now, it's enough.”

“I could talk to Dr. Potts about getting you some veterinary books. You could read up on horse illnesses and injuries and the proper way to care for them. You can see if it sparks your interest even more and whether you want to go to school for that. Even if you don't, it'll help you with taking care of the horses on the ranch. Talk to your grandfather. That man is an encyclopedia of horse knowledge.”

“I'll do that. It'll be another way to break the ice and give us something to talk about.”

“He lost your mother a long time ago. He's not used to talking to young ladies.”

“Does he miss her?”

“He misses the little girl he raised. What about you? Do you miss her?”

Gillian selected two boxes of cereal. One healthy. One filled with sugar. She'd alternate them for Justin and balance out his need to be a kid with her need to feed him healthy food.

“I miss the idea of her, not the impatient, frustrated, drug-­hazed woman who couldn't be bothered with me. When I was young, it wasn't as bad as things got a ­couple of years before Justin was born. She could be kind. She could be patient. She smiled. But those periods were brief and far between. I held on to those memories and hoped every day when I woke up that it would be a day that she smiled.”

Grandma Dee added four cans of green beans and six cans of peaches to the cart. She turned from the shelves and touched her hand to Gillian's shoulder. “I wish there had been more days like that for you.”

“Me, too.”

“We better get some more ice cream, or Justin and Blake will both be grumbling tonight.”

Gillian laughed. “Those two sure do like their ice cream.”

“Like you love your cookies.”

“It's the chocolate,” she admitted. “I have a real thing for chocolate.”

“Who doesn't? I keep a stash in the pantry all the time. I love to make brownies, but hardly ever do because up until recently it's just been your grandfather and I. Plus we have to fight off Blake to get any.”

“I love brownies. Let's make some when we get back. We'll do it together. I'd like to learn to cook better. I'm good at a few simple things, like burgers, spaghetti, and fried chicken, but I'd like to cook like you.”

Grandma Dee's eyes lit with pride and enthusiasm. “I'd like that. I'm happy to teach you everything I know. My mother taught me . . .” Her voice trailed off. “I'm sorry, Gillian. I wasn't thinking.”

Gillian reached out and touched her arm. “It's okay. Come on, let's get what we need for the brownies and our other groceries.”

“After we finish here, I want to take you to a little shop across the street. You need something.”

“I do?”

“You'll see.”

Gillian followed her grandmother, pushing the cart and grabbing what they needed off the shelves. They went through the checkout, and her grandmother paid. Funny, now that she felt closer to her grandparents, her pride didn't prick as much at them buying her food, clothes, everything she and Justin needed. They wanted to help. She had to admit, it was nice to have someone who genuinely cared.

They loaded the grocery bags into the truck, tucking the perishables into the cooler and covering it with the bag of ice they'd bought to get them home unspoiled. They locked the doors again.

“We'll have to hurry before that ice cream melts, but it's just right over here.”

Gillian followed her grandmother into the cute little store across the way. Girly to the max. Accessory heaven. Scarves, hats, jewelry, and hair accessories filled the cases and racks. Colorful. Sparkly. Pretty.

Her grandmother stood before a tall display of headbands in a variety of colors and sizes. Some plain, others with flowers or other decorations. Not little girl sweet, but grown-­up chic.

“What do you think? Which ones do you like?”

“Oh, I don't need anything.” The words didn't hold much conviction. She wanted to try on several. She'd seen women in San Francisco, their hair styled just so with pretty things like this to enhance their style.

“Gillian. You are constantly pushing that wild mass of hair from your face.” Grandma Dee eyed her as she drew a wayward strand away from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “A headband will help keep the hair out of your face when you brush down the horses. Some hair ties will bind it when you go riding.”

Gillian had thought the same thing, but figured a plain rubber band would do the trick. She'd never thought to buy something so frivolous. She'd never had the money to do so.

Her grandmother held up a set of three light brown bands. One plain, another with gold beads, and the last with blue crystals.

“These will look pretty and match your hair. You could tie it back in a ponytail and use the headbands for a bit of flare.”

Gillian had to admit, she liked them, and they would look pretty. She took the bands and held them in her hand, tracing the pretty blue crystals.

“I really like them.” She noted the price. Not bad at only three ninety-­nine.

“Do you like more subtle colors, or would you like something brighter?”

“These are fine.”

“Yes, for a start, but let's look at the others. What do you think? Something like this?” Her grandmother held up an ornate band decorated with a huge white flower, a fake gem the size of a quarter in the center of the bloom.

“That's a bit much. Maybe smaller. Subtle, but pretty.”

“Okay.” Her grandmother smiled and looked over the selection again. She helped Gillian try out several different ones. They laughed at some of the more ornate pieces and the ones that simply made her look ridiculous. In the end, they settled on the original brown headbands, a second set in navy blue with silver and light blue crystals, a pack of multicolored hair ties, a gold headband with white crystals in a swirling pattern for something dressier, and a pair of pretty copper butterfly clips with light green crystals. The copper color made the red in her hair stand out.

“You are going to look so pretty.”

“Thank you, Grandma. I love all of them. I had such a good time picking them out.”

“Me, too. I like having someone to shop with. We should do this again soon.”

Gillian smiled. “I'd like that.”

They stood at the counter together. Her grandmother dug her wallet out of her purse. Gillian checked out the display case. Her eyes fell on a pair of hair clips. Taken back to her time in San Francisco, she traced her finger over the glass and stared at the pair of silver birds with the tiny crystal blue eyes. They reminded her of the gulls soaring over the ocean.

The shopkeeper pulled them out and set them on the counter, ringing them up with their other purchases.

“No. We didn't choose those,” Gillian pointed out.

“Yes, you did. You liked the others we chose,” her grandmother said. “Those, you want. They're very pretty.”

“They remind me of the birds flying over the ocean.”

“I know you miss home.”

“I like it here. It's different, and that's good. But sometimes I miss the water, the quiet solitude I found there. I have it here when I'm outside with the horses, but it's different. Not bad different.”

“Just not the same,” her grandmother said, understanding what Gillian couldn't put into words.

“Yes.”

Her grandmother unlatched the clips from their holder and clipped one, and then the other, into Gillian's hair. “Very pretty.”

Gillian reached up with an unsteady hand and touched her hair. “Really?”

“Oh yes.”

“Thank you.”

“You are very welcome, dear.” Her grandmother took the receipt. “Come now. Let's get back before the ice cream is soup.”

“Won't matter. Justin will still eat it.”

“Blake, too,” her grandmother added.

Gillian laughed and walked beside her grandmother back across the street to the grocery store lot. She wondered what Blake would think of her new hair accessories. Lost in thoughts of Blake and the wonderful outing she'd had with her grandmother, she stared off down a side street and caught a glimpse of movement at the auto repair place down the way. The man stood with his hands at his sides, his eyes narrowed on her. Too far away to read his expression or see him clearly, she didn't need an up-­close look. She'd recognize her father anywhere.

Her heart slammed into her ribs and stopped. Her breath caught in her throat, along with the scream pushing to escape. Everything inside her went cold. She turned from the threat and rushed to the truck, sliding in and slamming the door the moment her grandmother unlocked it. She turned back to see if her father was coming after her but found no threat at all.

Her grandmother slipped behind the wheel and started the truck. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

Her grandmother narrowed her eyes at her too-­quick reply.

“Really. I'm fine. It's nothing.” Nothing but a ghost from her past haunting her. That was the second time her mind had played tricks on her. Why? Because she'd allowed herself to have fun with her grandmother: shopping, chatting, being normal. The guilt over what she'd done hung on like a barnacle. She'd never be rid of it, but she could ignore it for longer periods as the days passed and she embraced her new future. So why did she keep seeing her dead father?

I am not going crazy,
she chanted in her mind, staring out the window as her grandmother drove them home.

“Gillian?”

“Huh?”

“We're home, sweetheart. You sure you're okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. Thank you so much for everything. I had fun today.”

Her grandmother gave her a look that said,
Yeah right
.

Blake opened her door, and she jumped.

“Hey, sorry.” Blake took a step back to give her some space. He hadn't meant to startle her. “You okay?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“Uh, because you don't look okay.”

“Would you please help take the groceries in?” she asked him. “I have something I need to do.”

She slipped out of the truck, landing on her good leg in front of him. She darted around his side and took off for the barn.

He turned to Dee. “What was that all about?”

“I don't know. Everything seemed fine. We picked up the groceries and shopped at one of the stores. Kind of a girls' day.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Yes. But when we walked back to the truck, something happened.”

“What?”

“I don't know.”

Blake thought of the day they went shopping in town. “She got spooked, closed up, and went quiet on you.”

“Yes. But there was no reason for her reaction.”

“Killing her father is reason enough. She's fine most of the time, but when things really get to her, she takes off for the horses.”

They both stared toward the barn doors Gillian disappeared through moments ago.

“Come on. Let's get this inside. I'll give her a few minutes to settle down with Boots and take her riding.” Blake remembered the first time he'd gotten her up on a horse. The smile that brightened her face and eyes. She loved it. Every evening before dinner now, she asked him to take her for a ride. A quick study, she got better and better. She rode so well, she didn't really need his assistance anymore.