Dream Country (37 page)

“What, you’re not happy?”

Sage shrugged, trying not to smile.

“Look at you on your horse,” Jake said. “Six months ago, you didn’t even know how to ride.”

“That’s bull,” Sage said. “I’ve been riding since I was born.”

Jake snorted. “Not like me. You were just a suburban kid.”

“It’s in my blood,” Sage insisted.

“Huh,” Jake said. “That’s why we have to ride the oldest horses in the barn, because you’re such an expert.”

“You know what Dad says about me,” Sage blurted out. “I take after Mom, and I’m the cowboy girl.”

“Mom is,” Jake said, barely able to hide his smile. “Not you. Okay?”

But Sage just rode in silence, letting her brother think what he wanted.

Daisy sat in her bedroom, by the dressing table, letting Hathaway brush her hair. It was her wedding day, and she had a semi-serious case of jitters. While Hathaway smoothed each strand, weaving it into a French braid, inserting daisies at appropriate intervals, Daisy stared at her face in the mirror.

“Is that too tight?” Hathaway asked.

“Hmm?” Daisy was gazing into her own eyes.

“The braid. Am I pulling too hard? Am I stretching your face into your ears?”

Daisy laughed. “No, it’s fine.”

“Okay, then. I want James to recognize you when he says ‘I do.’ ”

“Are we crazy, having a real wedding, Hath?”

“As opposed to what? A sham one? No, Daisy. Believe me. If two people deserve to pull out all the stops, it’s you and James.”

“That’s what I think,” Daisy said. Now her gaze slid to the picture on her dressing table. Louisa had taken it just three weeks ago. It showed Daisy, James, Sage, and Jake standing by the paddock, smiling into the camera, everyone except Jake with ear-to-ear grins on their faces. “I hope he comes.”

“Jake?”

“Yes. I want him to be there.”

“He’s his own man,” Hathaway said. “An excellent tattoo artist. He’s been offering to do one for me ever since I got here.”

“Are you planning to take him up on it?”

“Maybe yes and maybe no,” Hathaway said.

“Hathaway—”

Dropping the braid she was working on, Hathaway came around in front of Daisy. Wearing a long, full yellow skirt and off-the-shoulder white peasant blouse, she looked beautiful, ready to stand up for Daisy at the wedding. She wore turquoise rings and bracelets from her own boutique, as well as one of Daisy’s necklaces and their mother’s pearl earrings. The combination of patrician eastern style and rugged western style suited Hathaway, and Daisy smiled as she watched her pull up her skirt to reveal a tiny tattooed cowboy hat.

“Jake did that?”

“Yes, he did,” Hathaway said, admiring her ankle. “I told him he could visit me in Silver Bay. We’ll set up a tattoo booth, something out of a western frontier town, for one day only. My customers will love it.”

Daisy smiled. Hathaway was a good sister, a loving aunt. She had always adored Sage, and now she would have a chance with Jake.

Staring at the little cowboy hat, Daisy thought of her son covered with tattoos, refusing to go to school, sleeping in the barn. She imagined the life he had led at the puppy farm, and she hated the time they had lost. So many years of pain for both of them—all of them. And now Jake had to bear the scars. Just because Daisy loved him didn’t mean she could erase any of what had happened.

“Every so often,” she said, “I’d like to kill Paul March.”

“I don’t blame you.” Hathaway held her carefully, so as not to mess up the braid.

“I’m constantly telling James to forgive, it’s all we can do, but sometimes the feeling is so strong—”

“Let it be as strong as it is.” Hathaway’s arms felt secure around Daisy’s shoulders, as if they could absorb all the rage and fury she felt for the man who had kidnapped her son. “Feel it now, and then let it go.”

“I want those years back,” Daisy whispered.

“You’re taking them back the best you can,” Hathaway said. “By marrying James today. It’s an affirmation of everything you believe in.”

“Like what?”

“Well, love,” Hathaway said. “An open heart.”

“An open heart lets in so much pain,” Daisy said, wiping her eyes.

“I know.”

“You’ve been with me through it all,” Daisy said. “I don’t know whether I’d have survived it without you.”

“You would have.” Hathaway stroked her hair. “Because of the other things you believe in.”

“What other things?”

“Well, hope and faith. Compassion. All these years you’ve used other people’s love stories to sustain you—to give you hope and faith when you’d lost your own. It’s in the work you do.”

“Sometimes it’s been easier to have it for other people than for myself.”

“That’s always the way.”

“Hope,” Daisy said. “That’s all marriage really is, I think. I lost it last time.”

“Not completely,” Hathaway said. “Or I don’t think you’d be here now.”

Daisy wiped her eyes, and Hathaway scolded her for smearing her makeup. They touched up her mascara and blush, and Daisy took the time to pull herself together, enjoy her sister’s closeness. Their faces were nearly touching.

“I’m going to be a westerner now,” Daisy said.

“Mmmm.” Hathaway was squinting as she tried to keep the eyeliner straight.

“Live on the ranch again.”

“I know.”

“Far from Silver Bay.”

“You want to get me going, or what?” Hathaway asked, shaking the eyeliner.

“You’ll come out to visit a lot.”

“Well, yes. I know that.” Hathaway snorted, as if Daisy had just stated the obvious.

Now Daisy gazed back into her own eyes in the mirror. She thought of Solstice Falls, Crystal Lake, the crimson cliffs, the stunted cedars, the silver-green sage, the snow-covered swans, the endless range, and the soaring Wind River mountains. Her heart beat faster, just thinking about such beautiful country. James was here, and so were their children. Daisy was a New Englander born and bred, but she had no doubt that she was home. That this was where she wanted to be, living on the land that inspired her work and dreams.

“I love you, Hathaway.”

“I love you, Daisy.”

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Anything.”

“If you see Jake before the wedding, will you ask him to come? Tell him—anything. Just get him to be there.”

“He will be.” Hathaway returned to the braid. “I know already. In fact, I’m positive.”

“How?” Daisy looked past her own reflection in the mirror to see Hathaway’s deep, knowing, humorous eyes.

“Because I’m the older sister,” Hathaway said, breaking into a slow, wonderful grin. “And I know everything. Don’t you know that by now?”

James stood out in the barn, adjusting his black tie. His father sat in a chair, dressed in his black dinner jacket with a string tie, and Todd stood beside him, wearing a bright blue tuxedo.

“Jesus,” Dalton said, watching James fumble the tie for the third time. “Didn’t I ever teach you anything? Bend down.”

“I got it, Dad.”

“You got it all wrong, is how you’ve got it. Bend down here.”

James crouched in front of his father, feeling the old man’s fingers grab the tie, fix it properly. James stared into his wrinkled face, the concentration in his eyes, and wondered why his father couldn’t be this sharp and present all the time.

“Should have taken you to more formal occasions,” Dalton said. “That’s what your mother would have done.”

“You did fine.”

“Your mother used to talk about the balls back in Boston.” Dalton laughed. “Didn’t have many of those around here. Not much opportunity for wearing a dinner jacket and black tie.”

James glanced over at Todd, wondering how he was taking this talk about Dalton’s first wife. But Todd just seemed so glad to be here, part of the day, his face was placid and smiling. Who’d have believed he and Daisy would have a bunch of Rydells at their wedding? But they were here: Todd, Tammy, their kids; Emma and Ruthie; and, of course, Louisa.

It was Daisy’s idea. After the feuds and hatred that had brewed between the two clans all this time, she had asked James if he would mind inviting the Rydells to their wedding. With Louisa an official part of the family now, it seemed right to her that there should be a larger gesture of peace.

How could James say no to her? And now, as if reading his mind, his father chuckled.

“Look at us here,” Dalton said. “A bunch of Tuckers and Rydells all gathered in the same place, not wanting to kill each other.”

“Will wonders never cease?” Todd laughed.

“Not with Daisy around, they won’t,” James said.

“I knew it wasn’t your idea to have us here,” Todd said. “But I’m mighty glad to be here anyway.”

With Louisa directing the band to tune up outside, Dalton pushed himself out of the chair and, still chuckling, headed out to find his wife. Todd started to follow, but James held him back.

“Just a minute,” he said.

“What?” Todd looked startled, as if his old reflex of suspicion had kicked in.

“I’ve got something to say to you.”

“Look, James,” Todd said, stepping back. “Dalton’s right, and so’s Daisy. Let’s let the old stuff slide for today. We’re here to celebrate—”

“I owe you an apology,” James said.

“Excuse me?”

James cleared his throat. He pictured that day long ago, when Jake had disappeared. With all those men milling around, all the people he could have suspected, James had focused on Todd.

“I’ve been unfair to you.”

Todd narrowed his eyes.

“All that time. For thirteen years. Thinking you were the one who took my son.”

“I knew you thought that,” Todd said. “Wasn’t anything I could have said to you to convince you otherwise.”

“There were other things,” James said, “that made me see it that way.”

“The feud.”

“Tuckers and Rydells, cows and sheep. Good grazing and bad—”

“The old story,” Todd said with a hint of bitterness. “You saw it one way, we saw it another. We carried it to extremes ourselves. I got two nephews in jail to prove that. Alma’s sorry for what Richard did, and I know she wants to make restitution—”

“Forget it.” James held up a hand.

“No, she wants to pay you back the value of the stock he killed.”

“I don’t want her money,” James said sharply. “I have sympathy for Alma. She’s lost her son, and I know how that feels.”

“I fed Richard those old stories,” Todd said. “He took them in, and I never knew how much they affected him. He wanted this land, and he set himself up to guard it for our family. You probably blame me for that.”

“I’m sorry about your nephew,” James said. “I hope he gets the help he needs. But I don’t blame you, Todd. The fact is, I’ve blamed you for too much. I never stopped thinking you took Jake. Maybe I wanted to—there was never any evidence, but I had to blame someone. See, I believed those old Tucker-Rydell feud stories as much as your nephew. I wanted to hate someone for hurting Jake, and you were the easiest one around.”

Todd waited.

“I’m sorry, Todd. I was wrong.”

“It’s okay, James. Lot of harm’s been done on both sides,” Todd said.

“I want to put an end to it. Daisy and I both want to do what we can to help Richard. You know, when you first told us about him, we got to thinking he might be Jake. It gave us a weird kind of hope.”

“I’m glad you got your son back.”

“Me, too.”

The two men shook hands. James was glad he didn’t have to say more. He didn’t like talking about deep things to anyone but Daisy, and he could see Todd was relieved, too. They were men of few words, and nothing much more had to be said. But the spirit of forgiveness was in the air, on both sides. Daisy was right: They had had their faith strengthened by their experiences, and now it was time to practice forgiveness. They’d be working at it for the rest of their lives.

“He glad to be back?” Todd asked as they headed out of the barn into the bright day to wait for the wedding to begin.

“Jake?” James swallowed, because he wasn’t sure how to answer that. He knew Jake loved his sister, that he was trying to get used to living in a real family again. But that could be a hard thing to do. James knew himself, from the way he felt inside. Letting people, especially such incredible women as Daisy and Sage, love them wasn’t easy. It was hard enough for James; he knew it had to be nearly impossible for Jake.