Wild Horses (16 page)

“What does?”

“Trying to make a difference for someone.” She pulled away so she could see Todd's shadowed face in the dim light. “When I watched Wade walk across his high school stage at his graduation I was so thrilled. So relieved. I'd protected him and gotten him to adulthood in one piece.”

She looked at her brother, huddled under the blankets, seeing all the irony there. “A few days later, he joined the army. He went and found the worst kind of danger. And there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.”

Todd leaned over and pulled her gently into his arms, cradling her against him. “That's the thing about causes. You can work yourself to the bone, trying to make a difference, but you don't have a lot of control over what happens next.”

“Like the rain forest?” She leaned on his strength, hoping to absorb some for herself.

“Yup. Just like that. Or the horses. I might save some. We might pass laws to protect them now. But in ten years? Twenty? Who knows?”

“And you just live with that?”

“Don't we all? You can't protect your brother his entire life, Nora. You couldn't keep him from the army. And you can't keep him safe from his PTSD. You can try to help him, but ultimately you need to let him figure it out.”

He was right, of course. “But that's so hard to do.”

He laughed softly against her hair. “Yup. That's where faith comes in.”

“Faith?” She shook her head. “I'm a scientist. I rely on facts. I'm not good at faith.”

“And when Wade was little?” Todd looked down at her, still smiling. “And he complained he wasn't good at something? What did you tell him?”

“To practice,” she admitted.

“Maybe that's your next cause, then. Practicing faith.”

“That's not really a cause.” She couldn't get her head around what he was asking. Faith? Trying to believe things she couldn't control would work out?

“Sure it is. It's about you learning to be happy. And that's the best cause I can imagine.”

Happiness.
She'd strived for safety, for success, but never, really, for happiness. “It seems kind of selfish.”

“You deserve happiness. And it seems to me you haven't had quite enough in your life.” He paused, his fingers playing idly with the ends of her hair. “I wish I'd made your happiness
my
cause. All those years ago.” His voice was so soft that at first she wasn't sure she'd heard him right.

She didn't answer—didn't know how. She wished he had, too. But they'd been so young, with so much still to figure out.

“Hey, how about if you go to bed?” Todd kissed her gently on the forehead. “Let me sit with your brother. I promise I'll keep him safe.”

She was exhausted. She knew Todd was right. She needed to have faith that Wade would heal. But all she knew about faith right now was that it was making her feel overwhelmed. And sleepy. She swiped her sleeve across her ruined face. “I'll just lie down for an hour. Then wake me up, okay?”

“Maybe,” he said. “Probably not. You need your rest if you're going to help Wade tomorrow.”

She was already half-asleep when she rose and let Todd guide her down the hall to her room. Her bed at the ranch house was old and battered, just like everything else on the property. But it felt as soft as a cloud when she fell down on top of it, wrapping her old quilt around her.

Todd was here and he was watching over both her and Wade. And in their entire lives, they'd never had anyone else looking out for them before.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

N
ORA
GLOWERED
AT
the
dust rising off the rag she was shaking. The specks caught the light and drifted off the porch. It was hot, and after three days off work, she was restless. Wade, understandably, wasn't good company. Mostly he rested, leaving the house only to look after his heifers. She suspected he was adjusting to his new antianxiety medication.

Usually she didn't mind being alone. But usually she was working. Not home trying to take care of a brother she didn't know how to help.

When she saw Todd's truck coming down the drive she brightened. She hadn't seen him since the morning after Wade's breakdown. Just three days, but it seemed longer.

He swung his truck right up alongside the porch and rolled down his window. “How's Wade?”

Nora glanced behind her to make sure her brother couldn't hear. The TV was blaring. He was watching a baseball game. “A little better,” Nora told him. “He's been taking his medication.”

“That's good news. A temporary solution, at least.”

She felt awkward suddenly. Not knowing what to say. What Todd had witnessed the other day had been so raw. Him staying the night to watch over them had been so intimate. And now here they were, practically strangers again.

“Can he be alone for a bit?” Todd asked.

“Probably. Why?”

“Because it's blazing hot and I'm going swimming. And I think you should come.”

“Swimming?” Her heart leaped at the idea. She was desperate for relief from the heat and the stress. But she couldn't chance it. “I should probably stay here, in case Wade needs me.”

“What would Dr. Miller say about that? What would Wade say, for that matter?”

They'd tell her to go take care of herself. “What if Wade needs me while I'm out?”

“You can't keep him safe every minute. Only he can do that by taking his meds and getting help. Remember that little concept called faith?”

“Oh, that,” she said.

Todd laughed. “You
are
terrible at it, aren't you?”

She couldn't help but giggle. “I'm very, very bad at faith.”

“How about we practice? Just for a short swim. Or you could invite Wade to come with us if that helps.”

She couldn't argue anymore. Especially when Wade seemed okay right now and a dip in cold lake water sounded like heaven. She ran inside to change. Wade looked up from his baseball game long enough to tell her he didn't want to go. She saw with relief that he was holding a glass of ice water, not a beer.

Upstairs she changed into her swimsuit and tugged on shorts and a T-shirt over the top of it. Glancing out her bedroom window, she saw Todd sitting in the cab of his truck, probably appreciating the air-conditioning. “Are we hiking?” she called down to him.

He leaned out the window to hear her better.

“Hiking?” she yelled.

“Whiskey Lake,” he called back. “We can drive.”

She slipped her feet into flip-flops and stopped by the linen closet for a towel. Maybe it was a bad idea to go with Todd, because the more time she spent with him, the more she liked him. And the way he'd taken care of Wade the other night drove home the fact that he was a really good guy.

It made it harder to keep in mind the other stuff she knew about him. His flexible relationship with the law. How he'd moved on after they broke up. The many differences that should keep them apart.

The one comforting thought in this whole mess was knowing that when it came time to leave Benson, she could trust that her brother had a good friend.

* * *

T
ODD
PARKED
HIS
truck alongside the dirt road that ended at Whiskey Lake. “I'd forgotten how long the drive up here was. But this is awesome.”

“It is,” Nora said dreamily. She gazed out the window at the clear blue water. One of the best-kept secrets in the Eastern Sierra. Jumbled rocky crags rose behind the lake, an impossibly scenic backdrop that was repeated in the reflection rippling across the surface...

Todd studied her elegant profile. Already he could see the worry lines around her mouth and eyes softening a little. His hunch that she was desperate for a break had been right. But his motives for showing up on her doorstep today hadn't been all selfless. He'd wanted to see her. Needed to. He couldn't make Wade better, but he had to make sure that she was okay.

She looked so peaceful staring at the mountains that he hated to interrupt her reverie, but it was hot and he wanted to get in the water. “Race you in?” he challenged, reaching for his door handle.

“Huh?” she asked as if she hadn't been paying attention. But before he knew it, she was out the door and heading for the water, kicking off her flip-flops for greater speed. She was competitive. And not above a dirty trick or two to win.

He threw himself out his door and went after her, but it was no contest. She ran down the granite slab that led to the water, shedding her shorts and T-shirt as she went. Underneath she had a sensible one-piece suit. But sensible looked great on her—he didn't mind coming in last place if he could admire her while he did it.

At the water's edge, she put on the brakes and stopped. He kicked off his shoes and ran past her, throwing himself into the lake, welcoming the cold as it enveloped his overheated body. He stayed under for a moment, relishing the quiet and the cool, then surfaced, shaking the drops from his eyes. Nora was still onshore.

“What's wrong?” he called, paddling closer.

“I lost my nerve!” she confessed. She took a tentative step in, so she was ankle deep. “I'm more of a get-in-slowly type.”

She was up to her knees now. To him it looked like slow torture. He held out a hand. “Want some help?” He tried to play it off seriously but she read his intention.

“And you pull me in? Not even.”

“It will be fun. Cold, but fun,” he teased.

“No, thank you.” She shuffled another half step so the water was above her knees. The benefit of her slow-motion submersion was that he got to watch the way the skin of her thighs goose-bumped just above the water. And how the muscles in her arms flexed when she balanced. The way her hair trailed over her shoulders to cover the curve of her breasts.

He felt like a teenager on a first date. Wanting to impress her. Wanting to be the guy who made her laugh and smile. “Want to do something
really
fun?” He pointed to a boulder about thirty yards away down the lakeshore. A big pine grew next to it. “See that boulder? Watch this.”

He climbed out of the water and jogged down the shore. Scrambling up the back of the rock, he found the rope some visionary person had attached to one of the pine's thick branches that jutted over the lake.

Grasping one of the convenient knots, he backed up and brought his feet up, sailing out from the boulder, over the water, and letting go at just the right moment, where the water was darkest and deepest beneath him.

He plummeted in, the cold sharp and perfect on such an overheated afternoon.

He let out a whoop as he came up. He was a kid in the mountains again. It was pure joy.

Nora was about two inches deeper in the lake now, her hands over her mouth in surprise.

“It's fun!” he called. “You should try it!” If she did, he'd bet anything she'd have a huge smile on her face afterward. And he wanted her to feel the same joy he did. There hadn't been nearly enough of it in her life.

She looked skeptically at the rope dangling over the water.

“I'll bring it back to the rock for you,” he called.

He saw her answer in the way she squared her shoulders. “Fine, I'll do it,” she told him. And marched out of the water and down the lakeshore.

He swam to the boulder and clambered up the rock, rope in hand. When she arrived, he reached out instinctively to help her climb up, but she ignored him, of course.

“How do I work this thing?” she asked once she was standing beside him. She put tentative hands on the rope.

“Hang on to the knot up here.” He pointed just above her shoulders. “And sit on this big knot here. And be ready to jump off when you get out over the deeper water, otherwise you might hit the boulder or the tree on your way back.”

Her brows rose. “And you consider this fun?”

“You don't have to do it. I didn't mean to pressure you.”

“Are you kidding? If you can do it, I can.” She set her jaw at a stubborn angle. But he could tell she was nervous. He'd bet that jumping off things just wasn't in her DNA.

“I'm sure you can.” Inspiration struck. Maybe he could offer fun and a little healing, too. “But I forgot to mention one thing. It's Benson tradition that you take your first leap off this rope swing in honor of someone you love.”

“Really?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“Absolutely. You yell their name as loud as you can, right when you let go of the rope. Just shout it out over the mountains.”

She rolled her eyes and adjusted her grip. “If you say so.”

He gave her a quick kiss on her sun-warmed shoulder, because he couldn't resist. “Have fun,” he told her.

With one last exasperated look, she jumped off the rock, clinging tightly to the rope as it carried her out over the sparkling lake. Just as she let go she yelled, “Waaade!” And then hit the water with a loud splash.

Todd waited, fingers crossed, hoping she came up exhilarated. Or at least, unhurt.

Her head popped up and there she was, slicking her hair back, with the huge smile he'd hoped for. “I can't believe I just did that!” she gasped.

He applauded. “You were incredible!” He was prouder than it made sense to be. But love didn't make sense. And while caring for her and Wade the other night, it had become very clear to him that he loved Nora. Again.

He was still getting used to the idea. It had sneaked up on him. At first he'd thought it was nostalgia, or just plain old attraction. But now he thought that maybe there were different kinds of love. The instant kind, like he'd felt when he first met Nora in college. And the slow kind, that crept up on you over the years, as life showed you what was possible and you realized what you'd lost.

It wasn't a love that made much sense. They were opposites in many ways. His activism made her crazy and her logic made him nuts. She was even talking about moving on, finding a different job somewhere else. But as she paddled toward him with her whole face lit up in a triumphant smile, he didn't care much about all of that. He just knew he wanted—no,
needed
—to find a way to be with her.

Nora threw the rope up to him and he caught it, hollering extra loud as he flew over the water, because he knew it would make her smile. Then it was back down into the cold, and when he swam back with the rope she was still in the water near the boulder, paddling around with a blissful expression on her face.

“It was fun, right?” he asked.

“Yes.” She paused, treading water. “I'm not totally boring, you know.”

He looked at her in astonishment. “That's the last word I'd use to describe you. You're amazing.”

“Really.” She looked skeptical.

“Yes, really. First off, you're way better than me on horseback.”

“The highest praise...” she said wryly.

“No, the highest praise is that years ago, when I knew you, I thought you were the smartest, sweetest, wittiest and most beautiful girl I'd ever met. And that's still all true. But now I know a lot more. Like you're the most devoted sister ever, and the most dedicated scientist. You're the hardest worker, a heroic heifer wrangler, a fabulous flash flood rescuer, a pioneer of garbage bag fashion...”

“Oh, my gosh! Stop!” She splashed a handful of water at him.

“It's all true,” he said mildly. His list was humorous but in his heart he was totally serious. He loved her. And he wanted to tell her, but now wasn't the time. He should probably ask her out on a real date before declaring a bunch of feelings.

She turned over and floated on her back. “You made that up, about yelling someone's name, didn't you?”

Todd tossed the rope up to the rock. “Yup.”

“Thanks.” She smiled and closed her eyes.

“Anytime.” He rolled onto his back and floated alongside her, taking in the overwhelming blue of the sky over the mountains. The cool water supported him, the hot air whispered along his skin and Nora floated close by. It was perfect. He reached for her with tentative fingers and she linked hers in his, and they floated that way, connected and weightless, for a long time.

* * *

T
ODD
MIGHT
CALL
her practical Nora, but she wasn't being practical tonight. There was nothing practical about going for dinner at Todd's house.

He'd ambushed her with the invitation, right when she'd come up for air after her third or fourth turn on the rope swing. She'd been breathless and happy and feeling more lighthearted than she had in ages. So she'd said yes.

But maybe that had been a bad idea, because now she was nervous. The careful voice inside her warned that this night could lead to heartache. Her new, riskier, jump-off-rope-swings side insisted that she didn't care.

She'd cut her workday short, unable to concentrate on the samples she'd been looking at under her microscope. After writing her notes in the wrong places and calling plants by the wrong names, she'd finally given in to the squirming emotions that made her so antsy she could barely stay still.

She pulled up at the ranch house, relieved to see that Wade was out. She was hoping to get ready without his brotherly commentary. And there was also the issue of what to wear.

She didn't own much beyond her work clothes and a few boring job interview outfits. Her jeans were all faded and work worn. But they'd have to do.