Return to Homecoming Ranch (Pine River) (11 page)

ELEVEN

Libby awoke several times wondering if she’d dreamed that kiss with Sam, only to open her eyes and realize she hadn’t dreamt it at all. And then she would lie there recalling every single moment of it.
Every single one.

She thought morning would never come. But it did come, sliding in cool and cloudy under the night sky.

In the gloomy light of a new day, Libby couldn’t recall exactly how she had ended up attached to Sam’s very scrumptious lips. What was said that managed to throw them together?

There was another thing: she hadn’t thought about good, old-fashioned rolling-in-the-hay sex in a very long time. Several months, actually. Not that she kept count, for if she actually knew how long it had been, she might murder an innocent bunny or kick a helpless old woman.

Thanks, Sam.

She cleaned the kitchen after breakfast and tried to imagine wild sex with Sam. And in spite of the warm glow that gave her, she couldn’t picture it. Sex just didn’t compute with the deputy sheriff and his no-nonsense lectures. Sex computed with the guy in the suit and tie and the body made of hard planes and ironclad grip, yes. But that guy was
not
the same guy who showed up with his badge and his hat sitting backward to tell her to stay out of trouble.

Libby was going to have to confront Sam and that kiss. They had a professional relationship—sort of—as he had pointed out, and she couldn’t be walking around thinking of kissing him. If she was thinking about kissing him, how could she possibly take him seriously when he was admonishing her? She had to try and fix this before it could get complicated.

She was fully prepared to do it that morning when Sam dropped off Tony, but the dropping-off job fell to the woman with bleached-blond hair and a tattoo of a rose on her chest. Even from Libby’s vantage point at the window, she could see that rose.

Libby walked out onto the porch to greet Tony and realized that he and the woman were engaged in an argument, seeing as how she was calling him names. Libby thought maybe she ought to intervene before the woman yanked Tony’s prosthesis off of him, but the moment she started down the steps, the woman slid into her little Pontiac and roared down the drive, bouncing over the pits and rocks.

Libby walked down to where Tony was standing, his weight on his hip, watching the woman drive away. “She’s not going to come back with a sawed-off shotgun, is she?”

Tony bent down and picked up his duffel, and slung it over his shoulder. “I sure hope not.”

“Come on,” Libby said, her eye still on the road out of the ranch. “I’ll show you the bunkhouse.”

At the bunkhouse, she introduced Tony to Ernest, who was wearing thigh-high waders and a fishing jacket. Libby had mentioned Tony yesterday, and Ernest had seemed unfazed by it, but this morning, he eyed Tony suspiciously, his gaze sliding down to Tony’s leg.

“How you doing, man?” Tony said, extending his hand. “I won’t take up much space.”

Ernest took his hand. “Vet?” he asked.

“Yep. Afghanistan,” Tony said.

Ernest nodded. “Come in. I’ll show you a room.”

Libby left the guys to do whatever it was guys did in circumstances like this, and walked back to the house. She paused at the barn to glance inside. Homecoming Ranch kept three horses for working cattle. The horses spent most of the summer outside, grazing in the meadow around the tent pads they’d had poured after the reunion in June, but this morning, they were in the barn, munching contentedly from their feeders.

The horses were the biggest problem Libby had for the ceremony. She had to get them out so she could clean the barn and rid it of the smell of manure. Ideally, she would like to have that done before Austin and Gary showed up to check out the setting. Libby was convinced the barn setting would work very well, but she guessed that Austin and Gary would not be persuaded of that if they could smell manure.

This event was a lot of work. A
lot
of work. A lot of work she had not anticipated when she had put a cost to it.

She walked on, thankful to have something to think about other than that kiss. Or sex. In fact, the more she thought about Homecoming Ranch and all that had to be done, the more her senses were dulled into a throb of mild panic.

Madeline was up and puttering around the kitchen when Libby came in. She smiled sleepily and stretched her arms high overhead. She was wearing one of Luke’s T-shirts that came to mid-thigh.

“How are things?” she asked, yawning.

“Good,” Libby said. “Tony is going to stick around for a couple of days to get the cars going. He’s bunking with Ernest.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Madeline said absently. She poured herself a cup of coffee and walked into the living room, a magazine tucked under her arm.

Libby was sorting laundry when her phone rang. She picked it up, looked at the display, and smiled. “Hello, sweetie,” she answered.

“Hi, Libby, it’s Alice!”

“I know! Why aren’t you at school?” she asked curiously, looking at the clock. When Alice had begun calling her a couple of weeks ago, Libby had been suspicious, but Alice had told her twice that her father had given her permission. Libby hadn’t understood why Ryan would do that, but now, it all made sense. He was allowing Alice to rekindle the relationship she’d lost with Libby, because he intended to apologize and allow Libby to see the kids.

“It’s Teacher Day. Daddy’s taking us to the movies when he comes home.”

“Oh yeah? What are you doing now?” Libby asked, wondering where Gwen was.

“Watching cartoons. So is Max. We’re watching
SpongeBob SquarePants
.”

“I love SpongeBob,” Libby said wistfully. “I
miss
you, Alice. I hope we get to see each other soon,” she said as she wandered into the dining room.

“I told Daddy I want to go to your house and he said okay.”

“He did?”

“He said maybe in a few days.”

Libby frowned a little. “Alice? You know you should always tell the truth, right?”

“I am!” Alice insisted.

That confused Libby. Had the man who had said she was too lenient, was turning his kids into monsters, really had such a change of heart? While Libby couldn’t wait to see Alice and Max, everything seemed so sudden. It made her feel uncomfortable. “Well, I can’t wait,” she said to Alice, her mind racing.

“I’m taking dance lessons!” Alice said suddenly.

“I know! Do you like your teacher?”

“Yes. Her name’s Miss Janie, and I’m going to be a butterfly in the recycle!”

“Recital,” Libby laughingly corrected her. “A butterfly! How cool is that? Are you going to have a costume?”

“Mommy said she was going to try and make me one. But she doesn’t really know how.”

Libby could imagine that was true. Gwen had never struck her as the crafty type. “Maybe I could make one for you,” she suggested, realizing, even as she spoke, that it was the wrong thing to say. “I mean, if your mom agrees,” she quickly added. “Anyway, I bet you’ll be the best butterfly in the recital.”

“You can make my costume!” Alice eagerly agreed. “You just have to get the wings.”

Libby laughed. “Where do I get wings?”

“At the store. I want to be a purple butterfly.”

“A purple butterfly, how pretty,” Libby said. She sat down in a chair that was up against a wall and fixed her gaze on the wallpaper in front of her, on the corner that had begun to peel away from the wall. “Is Max there? May I speak to him?”

“Sure,” Alice said. She put down the phone on her end, but Libby heard her yell at her brother and tell him to come to the phone. Then she heard Alice say, “It’s Libby.”

“Hi,” Max said. At six years old, he was not the least bit garrulous, particularly on the phone.

“Hi, Max!” Libby said. “What are you doing?”

“Watching TV. We’re not supposed to. We’re supposed to be cleaning our rooms.”

“Oh . . . where’s your mommy?” Libby asked curiously.

“I dunno. Here’s Alice,” he said, and then he was gone.

“Libby, did you go to the hospital?” Alice said. “Daddy said you went to a hospital.”

The question startled Libby; she’d not thought of what she’d tell the kids, and in a moment of decisiveness, opted for honesty. “Yes, I did. But that was a few weeks ago, and I’m okay now.”

“What was wrong with you?”

“Well . . . I was really, really tired.”

“Is that why you can’t come to my house? Because you hit Daddy’s truck with a golf club?”

Libby winced. “That’s part of it. Hey, are you practicing your dance every day like the teacher said?”

“Yes. Are you going to come see the recycle?”

“I’ll try my best, Alice,” Libby said sincerely. “I really miss you, and I love you. And I can’t wait to see you.”

“Okay. I love you, too. I have to go. Bye!” Alice said cheerfully, and the phone went dead.

Libby clicked her phone off and sank back in the chair, her head resting against the wall, her gaze fixed on the peeling wallpaper. She could almost smell Alice’s hair, could almost see the smudges of dirt on Max’s face. That Ryan was allowing her to call—

“Libby?”

Libby sat up with a start; she hadn’t heard Madeline come into the dining room. “Hey,” she said with a nervous laugh. “I didn’t hear you.”

Madeline stepped down into the dining room, still holding a cup of coffee. She was staring at Libby as if she couldn’t quite make her out, as if she had seen her somewhere and couldn’t place her. “Who was that on the phone?”

Libby could feel the stain of guilt spreading across her cheeks. “Alice.”

“Oh no,” Madeline said weakly, and sat down on the step so heavily, it almost appeared she’d fallen onto it. “Libby, what are you doing?” she asked in a near whisper. “Are you
trying
to get thrown in jail?”

“What? No!” Libby said, surprised. “Of course not. It’s not what you think, Madeline. She’s been calling me—”

“Oh my God,
how
?” Madeline exclaimed.

“Calm down. You know Alice and I have a very strong bond.”

Madeline closed her eyes. “Libby . . . he has a restraining order
against you,” she said, opening them again. “He doesn’t want you anywhere near him or his family. People don’t get restraining orders for the hell of it.”

“Well I
know
that,” Libby said. “But people also change their minds.”

Madeline’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, changed his mind? About the restraining order?”

Madeline’s questions were making Libby question herself. She felt guilty. And wrong. She stood up. “He has apologized to me. He says he wishes things hadn’t happened like they did.” She stepped around her sister and went into the kitchen, desperate for an activity, anything so that she wouldn’t have to listen to Madeline.

But her sister was right behind her. “Okay, you have to explain this to me,” Madeline demanded, and put down her coffee cup. “Are you saying that Ryan has apologized for dumping you for his ex-wife, and lying to you, and then saying horrible things to you, and then slapping you with a restraining order? And you’re
okay
with that?”

“No, I am not
okay
with that,” Libby said firmly. “I was only explaining to you why Alice is calling.”

“Because if he
has
changed his mind,” Madeline said, sounding like she didn’t believe Libby, “that doesn’t make what he did to you any less horrible. In fact, it makes him even scuzzier.”

“Madeline!” Libby said sternly, whirling around to her. “Is he not allowed to apologize? To regret what he did? Don’t you believe that people can change?”

“Of course I believe it. People do change,” Madeline said. “But some people are just really good at playing both ends against the middle, you know? Because I promise you, if he’s told you he’s sorry, he wants something.”

“Jesus, you should have been a lawyer,” Libby said. “I understand your concern. I don’t want . . .” She paused, tried to gather her thoughts. “I miss Alice and Max, Madeline. I miss them
so much,
” she said, pressing both hands against her heart. “I miss having a family and I can’t say good-bye to them. And what about them? I was the one who took care of them. They love me, too, you know. What about what
they
want? You don’t know Ryan, you don’t know what went on between us. You can’t make judgments about it.”

“You’re right,” Madeline said, still nodding, her hands on her hips now. “I don’t know him or what it was like between the two of you. I’m only going by the fact that he basically used you to babysit his kids while he was running around for everyone to see with his ex-wife.”

“For everyone to see?” Libby repeated. “No they didn’t!”

“Yes, they did, Libby. Ask anyone,” Madeline said, casting her arm wide. “Everyone in Pine River knew what was going on but you. He made you look like a fool,” she said, her voice softer. “And if he is telling you anything other than he deserves to go to hell for what he did, he’s lying.”

Libby’s mind was racing again, trying to sort through what was truth and what was her, trying to justify her feelings.

Libby’s heart felt as if it would leap right out of her chest. She was angry and hurt, and felt a little breathless. She was second-guessing everything she thought she knew about the last four years.
Again.

Madeline groaned. She covered her face with both hands for a moment, as if she was trying to regain her composure. “I’m sorry,” she said, and dropped her hands. “I don’t mean to . . . to butt in. But I really care about you, Libby. I don’t want to see you hurt again, or . . . or—”

“Institutionalized?” Libby finished for her.

“Or that,” Madeline admitted, and pressed her lips together.

“For heaven’s sake,” Libby said wearily. That Madeline worried she was fragile didn’t hurt as much as it had right after Libby had come home. Now it was just a dull ache. “One week at Mountain View and I guess I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that I’m not crazy to everyone around me. I had an emotional breakdown, Madeline. It’s not going to happen again. But if there’s a chance that I can have Alice and Max in my life—”