Jumped (11 page)

Mingo was now resting his head on his front paws, regarding Finn as though he were a beloved doggy saint. Finn flicked his hand at Beth. “Go. I have Mingo. I'm fine. Go do something fun. He's so happy to be out of that mailbox you keep him in, aren't you, buddy?”

“Do you need anything from town? Do you want to go for a drive?”

“I'm fine, Bethany. Go away. And I mean that in the nicest way possible.”

“Okay,” she said,
as she refilled his ice water. “Here's fresh water. Your next happy pills are at four.” She set the water on the bedside table. “Bye, Ming,” she said, and patted the dog's head. He paid her no mind. “Traitorous mutt,” she mumbled.

“I can't help it that I'm charming.”

“Just remember—he eats horse poo.”

“You had to ruin our moment.”

“Keep that leg elevated.”

“Go!” Finn nodded and shooed her out the door with his hands.

Beth left. Well now, wasn't this odd? She had been, she admitted, avoiding Finn, but now she didn't want to leave. And she was . . . okay, this was embarrassing . . . a little hurt that he seemed so eager for her to go just now. She trudged to the barn, not sure what she was going to do. She wanted to stay with Finn, but obviously he didn't want her there. As she entered the barn, another thought entered her mind.

Just like he didn't want you in your marriage.
Should she cut her visit short? She wanted Finn to want her more than he did. If he didn't, what was the point of staying?

Oh, good God, Beth! Stop!

It was ridiculous.
She
was ridiculous.

“I'm here for me, not him. He doesn't want my help, fine. His loss.” She surged through the barn to the pasture beyond where her bay thoroughbred mare grazed. She strode along the fence line to the pasture gate. “I'm here to enjoy myself, be an entrepreneur, and train,” she said as she unhooked Brooke's halter from where it hung on the gate. “I am woman, hear me roar.” She spotted her horse in the distance, grazing with Edelweiss, Amanda's gray. “Come here, woman.” She whistled, and like a good movie horse from a 1950s Western, Brooke lifted her pretty head, pricked her delicate ears, and galloped to her owner. “I love that I taught you to do that,” Beth said as she buckled the halter around the mare's head.

Once Brooke was secured in the crossties, Beth called Amanda to see if she wanted to go for a trail ride. Amanda heartily agreed. In twenty minutes both women were on their jumpers, on one of the trails that wound through the thousand-acre property. Today they chose a wide trail with good footing. Some of the trails were tougher because they were so rocky, narrow, or both. Good trail horses—like Smooch and Vern, the quarter horses Amanda had purchased for Grady's guests last summer when she had been hired to teach his daughters to ride—were steady and surefooted on them, but Beth didn't know how Brooke would handle it. Besides, Amanda had to take precautions to keep her valuable horse sound. They had already qualified for the World Cup, which was the only reason Amanda had the month off from showing. She'd decided to spare Edelweiss the wear and tear of near-weekly shows. It would be a terrible irony if the mare hurt herself on a leisurely trail ride.

“How's it going with Finn?” Amanda asked. The trail was wide enough to ride side by side. “Is it like
The English Patient
, except you can see his face?”

“Ha! Hardly. Although I guess he sleeps most of the time.”

“How about you?”

“Me? I sleep just fine.”

Amanda's riding helmet cast a shadow on her face in the harsh Aspen sunshine, but Beth could still see the concern in her friend's golden-brown eyes.

“Weird. Awkward and comfortable at once. True confessions? I'd been avoiding him, but then today he didn't seem to want me to stay, and I was . . . hurt.”

“So you don't want to take care of him, but you want him to
want
you to take care of him?”

“Well, when you put it that way. . . .”

“Cray-cray, as Harris would say?”

“Isn't Brooke doing well? She's hardly spooked at all.”

“You're not cray-cray. You're human.”

Damn Amanda for knowing her so well! Beth sighed so loudly, Brooke's ears rotated backward to take in the new sound coming from her rider. “When I've gone to see him, sometimes it feels like we're still married. I . . . I've watched him sleep. Just to watch him sleep.”

Amanda lowered her chin. It was her
deadly serious here
face. “Do you still have feelings for him?”

They were climbing a gentle grade, and Beth dearly wished a bear would appear so she could dodge the question. Yes—a bear with cubs. She looked around. No bear. Not even a squirrel to spook Brooke.

She sighed again. “Blerg. I don't know. Did I tell you this? About when we were kayaking? The big confession?”

“No. That was the same day he broke his leg. In all the excitement, you must've forgot. But now you have to.”

“Be glad you're sitting. He told me he still loves me. That he'd never stopped loving me.”

“Shut the front door!” The golden-brown eyes were all lit up and not from the sun. “And . . . ?”

“So he loves me. So what? It doesn't change anything. It's just an FYI. ‘Hey, I still love you, ex-wife who I couldn't wait to divorce.' ”

“That's not how I remember it. What did you say when he said that?”

“Nothing. I shivered at him.”

“
Do
you still love him?”

7

D
amn, Vogel! Could you
stop being my best friend for a minute and ask me about . . . nail polish or bits or something?”

“Nope. And technically, it's Vogel-Brunswick. And stop stalling.”

“I don't know. Sometimes I think I do. Then I'm sure I hate him. I'm definitely not . . . what's the word? . . . indifferent. I'm ambivalent.”

“Sounds only slightly schizo. Complicated. Because you're human.”

“Yeah. Then there's that Kristen person. Slut-a-go-go.”

“The geologist? She's slutty? I thought she was nice.”

“She may be nice, but she's also slutty. At least around Finn she is. While we were kayaking—I may have been kind of jealous.”

“Did you
do
anything? Your impulsive streak and all?”

“No. I wanted to, but I didn't. She was prancing around in a bikini top, stretching.” Beth raised her arms above her head, imitating Kristen in a dumb-blonde falsetto. “Oh, I have to stretch so much! Look how stretchy my arms are! I'm sooo flexible! Oh, are those my boobs? How did they get there? Is that one popping out? That would be
awful
!”

Amanda laughed.

“She was paddling right next to Finn the whole time in that lake. The whole entire time. Her and her boobs.”

“I think you're still in love with him. Otherwise why would you care?”

“But we're divorced! For years! I haven't seen him in five years.”

“You may not have come to terms with everything that happened back then. If you don't deal with your feelings, they resurface until you do.”

“Tell me about it. In my defense for not dealing with them, I didn't think I'd see him again. But it doesn't necessarily mean I still love him, right? I could just be screwed up
without
loving him.”

Amanda smiled. “Oh, you can be screwed up entirely on your own. But when someone you once loved enough to marry tells you he's still in love with you—that's something.”

“Then I'll make a point to only remember all the crappy parts of our marriage, which obviously outnumbered the good parts. I'll help him heal and then it's sayonara, Finn.”

“I always thought you got divorced awfully quickly. Again, the impulsive streak.”

“That's what makes all this so much fun! I get into fixes and hilarity ensues. Then you fish me out and talk sense into me. You're Mary Tyler Moore and I'm the wacky best friend.”

“I didn't help you with the fix that was your marriage.”

“I didn't think it was that bad. Then the wheels came off.”

“See what happens. Realizing you love a man who still loves you isn't the end of the world, you know. As someone told me last summer when I didn't know if I was in love with Grady, ‘life is messy.' ” Amanda grinned.

Beth never expected that her own words would come back to haunt her.

I wish my
broken leg didn't weigh ninety pounds.
That was Finn's first thought when he woke later that afternoon. As he opened his eyes, sunlight poured through the westerly windows of the guesthouse. The golden, cheery room matched his mood, because he'd had another Technicolor drug dream, this one ending with scorching hot, feral sex with Bethany. It reminded him of sex when they were married. As screwed up as their marriage had become, in the bedroom things had always been good. He had hoped, toward the end, that sex could pull them out of the dive, but it didn't. In his dream the sex was spectacular, but not nearly as spectacular as the real-life sex he and Bethany had had when things were good.

Mingo snored softly next to him. A happy, dense, warm lump, looking as though he'd keeled over while standing. The little dog had been a pleasant companion, content to sleep next to him all afternoon. Finn stroked Mingo's face and the mutt stretched all four legs at once, stiffening then going completely limp.

Finn heard someone on the porch. He ran his hand through his hair, then struggled to get up from the bed to use the bathroom. En route, he was surprised to hear knocking. Mingo lifted his head and pricked his ears. Usually Finn's “helpers” came right in after a brief knock.

“Hello?” It was a child's voice. One of Grady's daughters, no doubt. “Mr. Finn?”

Mingo launched off the bed and bolted to the door.

“Yes?” he called. “Who is it? Are you a Brunswick child?”

“Yes. I'm Wave Elizabeth Brunswick. Can I come in?”

“Just a minute, okay? I'll be right there.” He wanted to meet her, which surprised him.

He yanked off his T-shirt, swabbed on some deodorant, hobbled, opened a drawer, grabbed a clean T-shirt, and pulled it on. Then he took his next dose of Percocet. He stood in the bathroom on his good leg, panting. Changing your shirt while using crutches was tiring; at altitude, it was exhausting.

Feeling more presentable, he opened the door. A waif with long wavy blond hair, startlingly blue eyes, and a plate of brownies looked up at him.

“Hi,” she said. “Look what I brought you! Harris helped me make them. They're for your leg.” She lifted the plate of brownies and he took it.

“Hi there, Wave. I'm Finn. He wedged the crutches under his arms, put his hand out, and she shook his hand. Then he hopped back so she could enter and Mingo jumped up on Wave's bare legs.

“Mingo!” Wave cried, and bent to pet the dog. Mingo wriggled maniacally, obviously in love with the girl. Finn suspected he deeply loved anyone who pet or fed him, ever. The dog rolled over and she rubbed his belly as she talked. “We have a dog. His name's Ben. He's a Portuguese water dog. My dad didn't want us to get a dog because they die, but when Amanda married my dad and became our mom, she said we were going to get a dog and my sister's allergic so we had to get one that doesn't shed. Ben and Mingo like to play. Do you have a dog?”

Finn shook his head. He was amused by her torrent of words. “No. Mingo's on loan. We just met today.”

“My dad said to call you Mr. Finn. Like a fish.”

“Okay. Should I call you Miss Wave? Like an ocean?”

The little girl laughed.

“Thank you for the brownies, Wave. They smell really good.” They did. He suddenly was as hungry as if he'd spent the day framing a house. He'd never met a “Wave” and he liked saying her name. “Would you mind putting these on the kitchen counter? I can't carry plates very well yet.”

“Sure. C'mon, Mingo.” She did as she was asked.

“My mom said you can't walk good. Or ‘well.' She always yells at me for that.”

Finn crutched his way to a chair and saw Wave running her fingertip along the plastic wrap over the brownies. “Would you have a brownie with me?” he asked.

The girl grinned at him, and Finn had to laugh. “I think there's milk. Hang on,” he said, grabbing his crutches as he realized she was too short to reach the glasses.

“I got it.” She clambered onto the counter, opened the cupboard, and got two glasses.

“Okay,” he said, impressed by her monkeylike skills.

“I can get the milk, too.” As she did, she asked, “Did they really put screws in your leg? Where are the screws?”

“They're in my bone. You can see them on X-rays.”

“Really? Cool. Do they hurt?”

“Not really. My leg hurts a little. Not bad.”

In two trips, Wave transported the brownies and milk from the kitchen to the table and chairs where Finn sat. Finn took a brownie. “Wave, these are really good. You and Harris did a great job. Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” Wave said, chewing. “How long does your leg have to stay in a cast like that? Can you scratch it? Will they cut it off?”

“A few weeks. I can't scratch very well. And yeah, they use a saw to get it off.”

“Will they cut your leg?”

“I hope not! It's a dull blade. It doesn't cut skin.”

“Do you like milk shakes? When I have ice cream, I stir it in the bowl until it's like soup and then I eat it. It's really good. I wish I could have ice cream all the time.”

Finn laughed. “Yeah, me too.”

“Is Beth your wife?”

Ouch. Finn felt as if Grady had tackled him again, only this time his heart broke. He composed himself for a moment before answering.

“She used to be. We're not married anymore.”

“Oh. I like her. She's funny.”

“I like her, too. You're right; she's funny. Do you know where she is?”

“She went on a trail ride with my mom. Did you know Amanda's my mom? She adopted us, me and Solstice. So she's just like a real mom now. My real mom died.”

He nodded. “I like Amanda. I bet she's a great mom.”

“Yeah. She's good. Are you gonna live here until your leg's better?”

He shook his head. “Until it's a little better. Then I'll leave. I don't live that far, but I can't drive yet, and my house has way too many stairs.”

“Can you go outside? Can you come to the house and see my dog?”

“I'm coming for dinner tomorrow. Can I meet him then? Ben, right?”

“Do you wanna come now?”

He didn't want to miss Bethany when she returned, so he shook his head. “Tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.” Wave stood and her sneakers thudded as they hit the wood floor. Mingo, who had been sleeping at her feet, stood and yawned. “Bye, Ming,” she said, using both hands to scratch the dog's ears and put her upturned nose close to his. He licked the proffered nose three times.

Finn got up to open the door for her. He was getting faster.

“Bye!” she said. “It was nice to meet you.”

Finn was impressed with the girl's manners. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Wave.” He executed as low a bow as he could.

“Bye! Don't forget to come to dinner tomorrow!” Wave laughed, then ran to the house.

The next day, Thursday,
Beth, Amanda, Solstice, and Wave went into Aspen to check out the boutiques. Beth was a happier clothes shopper than Amanda—who practically had to be tranquilized to willingly enter a clothing store—but today was about collecting inspiration for Beth's line. They had a map and a plan, and picked off stores with military precision. Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Dior, Fendi, Prada, Ralph Lauren, Chanel—they hit them all. They also checked out some outerwear and fitness clothing stores, because Beth's shirts had to function and fit well in addition to being comfortable and looking great.

After a late lunch at Wave and Solstice's favorite restaurant—the Woody Creek Tavern—Beth changed into breeches and rode Brooke in the ring. She returned to the house, where Jacqueline Heinrich met her at the door. The aristocratic woman with toffee-colored skin was always so impeccably turned out, Beth wondered if she slept in a suit. But she was amazing at her job and kept Grady organized. After a rocky start last summer, Amanda had come to adore her, so Beth liked her by proxy. Jacqueline spoke in her alluring French accent and her silky, soothing voice. “I saw you coming up the drive. Are you planning to take a shower or bath?”