Once Burned (13 page)

“Noah, this is not a conversation we need to have right now.”

“Which one was it, Mom?” he asked more firmly.

“Both.”

“But you said no.
You
wanted me.”

“Yes, I did. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t terrified, but I loved you from the moment I found out about you, and there was
never
any question in my mind about keeping you.”

In her son’s face, she watched a war play out between a young boy’s need for his mother’s comfort and a man’s anger at Max’s callousness. Lindsay leaned back against the island, afraid she’d end up on the floor if she didn’t. His need won the battle, and he quickly crossed the distance to her and threw his arms around her. She hugged him tightly and wished she had long ago asked Max to give up his rights instead of holding onto her adolescent fantasy that they could all be a family.

“I hate him,” she heard Noah mutter against her shoulder. “I always felt like I was a… a….”

“Hush now. Don’t hate him, baby,” she murmured. “He
is
your father even if he doesn’t always remember it, and he wouldn’t keep fighting if he didn’t love you.”

“But why does he have to fight at all?”

“I don’t know, Noah. But come on. Let’s not talk or think about this anymore today, okay? It doesn’t do any good. Besides, you know that
I
love you, right? And that Grandma and Grandpa love you, too.”

He nodded.

“Why don’t you show Grandma your new snazzy shoes while I bring out the goodies from Montana.”

“Oh, right! I forgot about those.”

So he
had
been too glad to see her to give her any grief while she dragged him from one store to the next. That made her feel somewhat better, though she regretted that he’d overheard her conversation with his father and hoped he wouldn’t dwell on it. One, he just didn’t need to think about it or worry over it, and two, God only knew how Max would use that as ammunition against her. Shoving that mess aside for the time being, she retrieved the gifts from their hiding place in her parents’ bedroom and brought them into the kitchen.

Noah was most excited about the crystals she and Henry had unearthed at Crystal Park, but their old-timey photographs were nearly as interesting to him. He thought the various candies were cool, too, and Lindsay made sure he understood they were from Henry, since the man had paid for them. He’d also tossed in a few other things for Noah without her awareness—a picture frame with footballs and helmets and a note saying
for a picture of your first championship
, a small box made of weathered barn wood in which Noah could keep his crystals, and an IOU for a horseback ride on the Lazy H Ranch. They were little things and inexpensive but thoughtful.

“The Lazy H Ranch? Is that Vince’s ranch?” Noah asked.

“No, it’s Henry’s family’s spread.”

“Who is Henry, and why would he send these home for me?”

“He’s a friend I made in Northstar—a friend of Vince and Evie’s.”

“A friend like Logan?”

The question was innocent, but Lindsay flinched. “No, not a friend like Logan. A real friend.”

Noah went back to sorting the crystals and admiring his goodies, and Lindsay picked up the photographs, more glad than ever that Henry had talked her into them. She should ask Skye if she’d taken any pictures of him or of them together at the wedding, and she smiled, hopeful.

“Is that him?” Debbie asked her quietly so Noah wouldn’t hear as she looked over her daughter’s shoulder at the photographs. “Oh, honey, he’s so handsome. And those eyes.”

Lindsay glanced at her mother, curious. “What about his eyes?”

“They’re kind and generous. He has an honest soul, that one.”

Tilting her head, she studied the image more closely. She’d thought it was her frankness that had invited Henry to be as candid as he had been with her, but now she decided he was always that sincere. Maybe he didn’t make a habit of telling everyone who’d listen his life story, but she believed he’d answer honestly if asked directly. “I think you’d like him, Mama.”

“Just from the way you talked about him, I figured I would, but seeing him… now I’m certain I would.” Debbie gazed at her daughter probingly. “Maybe I’ll get a chance to meet him one of these days?”

“Maybe so.”

Lindsay’s father was the cook of her parents, and since he wasn’t home yet, she decided to start dinner—chicken Parmesan, his favorite. Debbie helped as Lindsay needed her to but otherwise leaned against the daughter and talked about Lindsay’s trip and, when Noah headed into the living room to watch TV, about Henry and his family. It was wonderful to have something positive to think about after her conversations with Max and Noah, and before long, thoughts of Henry and the therapeutic, habitual motions she used as she cooked soothed away her anger and frustration and left her feeling almost as rested as she had before she’d left Northstar for Butte yesterday.

Her father arrived just as she was plating the meal and gave her a bear hug. She nearly dropped the two plates she was holding.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” Steve said. “Not only do I get to come home to an incredible meal after a long day of cooking for other people, I get to see my beautiful daughter smiling like the sun. It looks like Montana was good for you.”

“It was very good for me,” she replied.

Lindsay, her parents, and Noah gathered around the dining room table, something her parents did only when she and Noah were over—normally they ate on their laps in the living room while they watched the evening news. Her father asked her about her trip, but instead of feeling like a broken record having repeated the tales first to Noah while they were out shopping and then to her mother, she relished the opportunity to revisit Northstar and everyone who called the ranching community home. Her mother refused to let her do the dishes, but she stayed and talked with her parents until the kitchen and dining room were reset to pre-meal orderliness.

“All right, honey,” Debbie said, hanging the hand towel on the handle of the oven. “Thank you for dinner, but it’s probably time you head home. You have work tomorrow, and I’m sure you could use a few extra hours of rest, so we won’t keep you any longer. There will be plenty more time to talk tomorrow and the next day… and whenever. And something tells me the happiness you found in Montana isn’t going to fade any time soon, so you just wait to tell us the rest.”

“Yes, Mama.”

“And tell that friend of yours hello for us the next time you talk to him. You
will
talk to him again, won’t you?”

“I’m supposed to call him when I get home.”

“In that case, we definitely won’t keep you any longer.”

Lindsay hugged her mother and whispered, “Thank you.”

Noah was quiet for most of the ride home. About a mile away, a scowl pinched his face, darkening the closer they came to home.

“What’s on your mind, bud?” she asked after she’d parked behind Chelsea’s car out by the curb.

“Spencer’s gonna steal all my stuff that you brought back from Montana.”

“I’m sure he’ll try, so how about you keep it in my room when you’re not using it?”

“I wish we didn’t have to live with him and his mom. I mean, Chelsea’s nice, but….”

“I know, bud. I wish we could have our own place, too.”

“How come we can’t stay with Grandma and Grandpa? They said we could.”

“They need their space. We have to keep making the best with what we have, okay? Someday, it’ll get better for us.”

“And meanwhile, Dad and Giselle get to live that giant four-bedroom house with nobody else but them to use it.”

Lindsay reached over and squeezed his hand. She wished she could take a magic wand and make all his worries go away. Instead, she hugged him tightly for a long time, gratified when he hugged her back.

“I’m glad you’re home,” he whispered. “I really missed you. And I’m sorry I was a butthead to you on the phone while you were gone.”

“I really missed you, too, and thank you for the apology.”

They headed inside, and Lindsay took Noah’s gifts to her room while he unpacked his bags from his stay at his grandparents. Chelsea’s son, Spencer, wasted no time quizzing him about what Lindsay had brought home for him, and while she didn’t condone lying, she wasn’t about to chastise him when he told Spencer
nothing
. Some days, she was tempted to sleep on the couch just so he could have his own room, but that wouldn’t solve the problem, so she swallowed the urge like she always did.

After the boys headed to bed, Lindsay retreated to her room to call Henry.

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten me already,” he teased.

“Like I could,” she replied as a spark of her playful side flared to life. “Sorry I’m calling so late again. We had a busy day, and then we ate dinner with my folks, and I had an uncomfortable conversation with Noah about his father.”

“Oh? What triggered that?”

She told him everything about her phone call to Max and about telling her ex to give up his parental rights. Henry agreed that it might be best for both her and Noah and commended her on her guts for speaking her mind. He wasn’t too thrilled to learn that Max had suggested she have an abortion—she apparently hadn’t mentioned
that
in their conversations—and his anger on her behalf and on her son’s kindled a warm glow in her heart that burned away ever last lingering trace of angst over Max’s continuing animosity.

“I know you think I’m this amazing, selfless woman, but I am selfishly glad right now that I met you, Henry.” She flopped on her bed and stared at the midnight blue ceiling with its large flakes of glitter trying poorly to imitate the stars. “Because you’re pretty damned incredible yourself, and you have this talent for making me forget my worries.”

“I’m nothing special. It’s all you, gorgeous. You bring out the best in those around you.”

She snorted. “Evidently not.”

“Let me rephrase that. You bring out the good in people who have some to be brought out.”

Feeling more than a little like a giddy schoolgirl, she thanked him, shyly glad he couldn’t see her blush. They moved on to happier topics, and by the time their yawns began to overtake the conversation, they’d been on the phone almost two hours. Lindsay stared at the clock, certain it must be lying to her.

“We should get off this thing,” he said but took no other steps to end the call.

“We should.”

“Right. Because we both have to work tomorrow.”

“Yes, we do.”

He chuckled. “When can I call you again?”

“I have the dinner shifts all week, but I’m off on Thursday. Will that work?”

“Not soon enough,” he answered, and she could hear the fond smile in his voice, “but I guess it’ll have to do. Talk to you on Thursday.”

“It’s a date. Good night, Henry.”

“Good night, gorgeous.”

At last, Lindsay hung up the phone and got up to take the cordless back into the living room. She finished preparing for bed and crawled between the sheets, determined to keep Max from reentering her mind. It was surprisingly easy to do that, and she dozed off smiling with a thought that Thursday couldn’t come soon enough.

“AARON AND SKYE SEEM to be hitting it off well,” Henry remarked as he caught the sixteen-inch-long block of beetle-killed lodgepole pine Nick tossed to him. He dropped it smoothly on top of the row of other logs already stacked neatly in the bed of his pickup. “Is it just me or does he seem a little lost without her here?”

“They do indeed, and it’s not just you who’s seeing that. She’s supposed to be back from Washington the day after tomorrow, and I know he’s looking forward to it.” Nick tossed another log and another in an effortless rhythm. “I’m inclined to say your hope for them is well placed. If nothing else, she’s distracting him from thinking about Jerry Mackey.”

“That’s a damned good thing. Mackey’s still keeping his distance?”

“Sounds like it. Aaron said Pearl bumped into him a few days ago while she was at lunch, but other than that… Jerry’s keeping his head down.”

“That’s good. Good for Aaron
and
for Mackey. I know I shouldn’t because his shitty choice to run drugs for his dirt bag cousin ultimately led to Erica’s death, but I can’t help feeling sorry the kid. Life’s dealt him one crap hand after another.”

“I’ve always felt bad for him, too, and I know Aaron does. That’s a big part of why it’s been so hard for him to let go of Erica. He has too much guilt dragging him down.”

“Rogers hasn’t changed a bit since he arrested you for kicking the shit out of Trey Holt, has he?” Henry shook his head, recalling the way the sheriff—then an officer with the Devyn Police Department—had pompously slapped the cuffs on Nick out in the hall in the view of half the crowded cafeteria on their college campus. No tact whatsoever. “God, he was full of himself, and that old son of a bitch had a hard on for Mackey, like he was the ringleader of that drug ring instead of a first-time driver.”

“Don’t forget how badly he handled the investigation into the murders of Mike Thompson and Carol Landers.”

“I’m not likely to ever forget that. Poor Luke. I hope Aaron is serious about running against Rogers one of these days. The county would be a lot better off with our brother as sheriff.”

Nick snorted. “That’s for damned sure.”

After the last of the logs were in the truck, Henry jumped down and stretched while Nick fetched two bottles of water from the cooler in the back of his truck. They sat on the tailgate and gazed up at the steep, forested wall above them, content to enjoy the quiet for a few minutes. The mid-September day was pleasant with a cool breeze wafting down from the peaks and carrying the promise of impending autumn—a perfect day to be out cutting firewood.

“You’ve been back to work on the ranch for two and a half weeks now,” Nick said after a while. “How’s it feel?”

“I’m working twice has hard for less money,” Henry replied, “and I feel ten times better. I loved my job in Denver, but right now, this is what I need. And speaking of the ranch, is there any word on hiring a couple new hands?”

Nick shook his head. “No one who’s responded is willing to do the work. I think Dad’s trying to talk Austin McGuire into coming to work for us fulltime. Even if he agrees to it, though, we’re still a hand short.”

“At this rate, we may
have
to give up some of the old traditions.” Henry glanced through the narrow gap in the walls of the ravine to the lower fields of their ranch at the beaverslide they’d used a week and a half ago to make the stacks of hay that now dotted the fields. “I’d hate to see the old derek sit and rot.”

“I would, too.” Nick glanced at the wooden structure in the distance, then turned to Henry. “I’m a little surprised at you.”

“Why? This is my home as much as it’s yours… even if you and Beth will be the ones to take it over when Dad and Mom decide to retire. It’s like Uncle James said. You can take a Hammond off the ranch, but you can’t take the ranch out of the Hammond.”

“That’s not what I mean, Hen. Of course the Lazy H will always be your home.”

“And I wasn’t being a dick. I meant what I said.”

“That’s what surprises me. I
know
you love this place as much as the rest of us, but you’ve spent most of the last ten years trying to convince yourself otherwise.”

Henry turned his water bottle around in his hand, staring at it without seeing it. “I guess getting a metaphorical kick in the balls forced me to admit that I was deluding myself.”

“How are you doing with that? I know how much you love Dylan, but you seem to be handling it remarkably well.”

“I have my moments, but I’m okay. Meeting Lindsay helped. A lot.” He drained the rest of his water in one long gulp, crumpled the bottle and screwed the cap on, and set it beside him, then returned his gaze to the distant beaverslide.

“Have you talked to her since she left?” his brother inquired.

“A few times. We’ve sort of set up a twice-weekly schedule—Mondays and Thursdays, though not tonight. She and Skye are going out to dinner. I miss her a lot more than I thought I would, and it sucks, but even missing her is good for me because if I’m thinking about her, I’m not thinking about Dylan.”

“That
is
good, Henry,” Nick agreed. “And I’m glad to hear you’re keeping the lines of communication open because it tells me you’re smart enough to realize you need her right now.”

Henry snorted. “Need is a strong word, Nick.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

Henry didn’t admit that Nick was right, but he didn’t lie and say his brother was wrong, either. Instead, he moved forward on the topic. “Her ex has been more of prick than usual this week. It’s almost like he’s trying to make her pay for suggesting he give up his son even though it seems like that’s exactly what he’s wanted from the start. I didn’t know he told her to get an abortion and that, when she refused, he wanted her to put Noah up for adoption. She didn’t tell me that until after she went home to Washington.”

Nick swore under his breath and leapt off the tailgate. He stalked away a few paces, and Henry noted a sudden and alarming stiffness about his brother.

“Nick?”

The older man turned back to face him and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Henry could almost hear the memories churning in his sibling’s head. It was a few minutes before Nick regained his composure and again joined Henry on the tailgate.

“Sorry,” he said. “That caught me off guard, made me remember those first hours and days after Trey raped Beth. If she’d gotten pregnant from it… she’d’ve had to face that same decision.”

“I can’t even fathom that kind of fear—not what Lindsay must’ve felt as a young mother and certainly not what Beth went through.”

“I can. To some extent, anyhow. The worst of it for me was knowing there was nothing I could do to protect her from it, but I imagine that’s nothing compared to what she felt.”

“Thank God she didn’t get pregnant.”

Nick nodded. “I’m truly afraid I would’ve killed Trey if she had.”

“I believe you would have, too. I remember how protective you became of her after that. I mean, you always looked out for her, but that night changed everything.”

“Yes, it did.” Nick frowned. “What Beth went through was horrible, but it doesn’t make Lindsay’s struggles any less heartbreaking. I may not have spent much time with her, but it was pretty easy to see the damage her ex did and continues to do.”

“I wish….” Henry shook his head, unable to put his desires into words.

“You wish what?” Nick prodded when Henry hadn’t continued after more than a minute.

“I wish I could fix it for her. I wish I could protect her from him.”

“You probably don’t want to hear this yet because you want to put Mel behind you before you think about moving on—and believe it or not, I support you in that—but the fact that you want to take her troubles away suggests a much deeper connection than your bargain. I know you never felt that way for Mel, and I can tell you that I never felt the need to protect Michelle like I do Beth… and it has nothing to do with how strong the woman is, Henry, because Beth proved beyond a doubt that she’s even stronger than Michelle is first when she reported the rape and then when she took the stand against Trey, and I’m damned sure Lindsay is stronger than Mel. It’s instinctive, and you might want to take that into consideration when you’re ready. In the meantime, get your ass back to work. This wood isn’t going to cut and load itself, and I’d like to get home to my wife sometime before midnight because she’s been hinting that it’s time to give Will a sibling.”

“You guys are
finally
thinking about having another baby?”

“I think so. There’s a bit more urgency these days because we aren’t getting any younger, and it’s beginning to feel like now or never.”

“I’ve never understood why you waited to long to have Will… and then to have another kid. Neither of you ever doubted that you wanted children like I did.”

“We promised ourselves to savor every moment of our lives together and not rush anything.” Nick grinned. “Dylan settled your mind, huh? In that case, we’d better get your firewood cut and loaded so you can get back to thinking about Lindsay and if she might be the one to make that happen for you.”

Henry stared at his brother. For once in his life, he
wanted
to talk about his emotional train wrecks, but Nick had made it quite clear that further discussion wasn’t going to be allowed.

“Subtle, Nick. Real subtle.”

Nick didn’t take the bait, so Henry jumped to his feet and picked up his chainsaw.

His conversation with his brother occupied his mind while they finished filling both trucks with firewood. Nick was definitely right that he’d never felt a need to protect Mel. Sure, he’d wanted to make sure she was taken care of and had even enjoyed spoiling her until she started taking advantage of his generosity, but that was the extent of it.

It was a want, not a need.

Nick climbed into his truck, and Henry braced his hands on the open window. “Thanks for helping today.”

“With what? The firewood or the advice?”

“Both.”

Nick nodded in acknowledgement, then chuckled. “I like this new you. I’m not sure what Lindsay did to bring it out of you, but it’s a good change. It’s nice to get to know my youngest brother again.”

Henry jokingly grumbled about being the youngest by only a few minutes but appreciated the gentle teasing.

“Well, we’d best get this back to your house and unloaded so I can get home to my beautiful wife. We still have to stop down at the main house, too, to figure out who we can get to help bring the herds down next week.”

Henry thumped the roof of Nick’s cab and jogged over to his own. He slid in behind the wheel and gunned the engine, then followed his brother down the narrow, rocky road out of the ravine. The road hugged the base of the foothills even after it left the gulch until it turned into Billings Creek Road, at which point it smoothed out and widened. The driveway of the main ranch house was another mile down the road, which now followed Billings Creek through stands of cottonwoods and quaking aspen. In another week or two, the dark emerald leaves of those trees would turn to vibrant gold. Henry was looking forward to that, too, just like he was anticipating moving their herds down from the summer allotments with something akin to glee.

Lindsay would probably get a kick out of that,
he mused as he turned into his parents’ driveway.

When he parked beside Nick, he noted a beat-up old pickup parked next to Aaron’s newer one. He didn’t recognize it.

“Any idea whose truck that is?” Henry asked Nick as they climbed out of their pickups.

“Nope. Maybe Dad found a new hand while we were out cutting firewood.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice?”

They headed inside and found everyone gathered in the kitchen. Henry stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted the guest leaning against the counter beside Aaron with his arms folded tightly across his chest and eyes wide with apprehension.

“What the hell is Jerry Mackey doing here?” Henry blurted before he could stop himself.

He glanced over the kid, who met his gaze briefly and winced. His medium brown hair was longish and resembled a mop, but his green-tinged hazel eyes were clear and alert if wary. Twenty-two or so now, he’d filled out a bit since Henry had last seen him, but he was still skinny. At five-eight, he was only an inch taller than Tracie, which made him seem even smaller compared to her husband and sons than he was; John, Nick, Aaron, and Henry all stood four inches taller with thicker, more heavily muscled frames.
It’s no wonder
, Henry mused,
that Aaron so easily overpowered the kid two years ago.

He looked to his twin and noted a blossoming bruise on Aaron’s jaw. “And what the hell happened to your face?”

“What do you think happened to my face?” Aaron replied. “Jerry and I settled our differences… and then I offered him a job on the ranch.”

Henry lifted his brows in surprise. He had no hard feelings toward Jerry, but that didn’t mean he’d ever imagined this outcome. At best, he’d hoped the kid would eventually get over his grudge against Aaron and leave him alone. Maybe he hadn’t heard right. “You
what?
”

“We need an extra hand, and he needs work.”

“What’s his probation officer think of that?”

“He thought we were both nuts but then decided it might be a good idea.”

“I called Austin right after they arrived,” John said. “He’s willing to move into one of the bunkhouses and room with Jerry and teach him the ropes.”

“You got Austin to agree to fulltime?” Henry asked.

“Yep. He’s struggling a bit with his empty nest with Shane away at college, and not having to pay rent on their house will save him a lot of money. It didn’t take too much to convince him once I mentioned he’d have a new kid to train. Jerry doesn’t know much about ranching, but he does know a bit about construction and maintenance, and he’s willing to learn the rest. To start, he’ll probably be working mostly with you, Henry, fixing things. We’ll ease him into working with the livestock.”

“Hope you can keep up, kid,” Henry remarked lightly.

“I like to work,” Jerry retorted with a spark of challenge.