When Dreams Collide (23 page)

“Have I mentioned how gorgeous that tree is?” Susan met his eyes.

“Only a dozen times. Can I get you a drink? How about a glass of eggnog before the aliens clean me out?” He chuckled as he stepped behind the bar.

“I’d love one.” Susan chuckled, and happy thoughts of Christmas Eve as a child popped into her mind—being so excited about Santa, and new toys and presents, and turkey and trimmings the next day. She missed her deceased parents during the holiday season more than any other time of the year, and she imagined it was the same for Dusty.

For so long now, she’d wanted a loving husband and a beautiful home and a couple of kids of her own to make memories with. So far it hadn’t happened. And then she met Dusty. Their relationship had been so volatile, on again and off again, that she didn’t hold out any hope of a future with him. Clearly, Dusty and she were never going to be on the same wavelength. Even living and working within a twenty minute drive of each other, being able to pursue their individual dreams, so far the odds still seemed stacked against them.

Just then, she heard a loud knock on the front door followed by the door opening and the sound of heavy boots entering.

“Ho! Ho! Ho!  Merry Christmas!” called Brock. Buster bounded into the living room with his tail wagging and small crusted balls of the fresh snow flying off of his feet.

Susan stepped into the hallway as Brock shrugged out of his coat, wiped his boots on the rug by the door, and hobbled toward her, holding a large bottle of brandy in his hand.

“Merry Christmas, Brock.” Susan kissed his cheek, took the liquor bottle from him, and headed across the living room’s hardwood floor to set the gift on top of the built-in bar. “You’re looking well.”

“Thank you. Since I sold the ranch and took on the responsibility of running it while Dusty recovered, I haven’t felt so alive in ages.” Brock beamed. “Having this furry fellow in my life has been such a blessing. He snores up a storm, but I don’t mind sharing my bed with him.” Brock bent down and ruffled Buster’s ear.

“All of our lives have been changed forever this past year,” observed Dusty, passing Susan a glass of eggnog doctored with rum.

“I’ll have one of those, too, please.” Brock headed for the rocking chair next to Dusty’s recliner atop a large patterned rug beside the roaring fire.

“Yummy,” said Susan, smiling. “I’m not even thinking about the number of calories in this.”

“I took all the calories out before I gave it to you.” Dusty grinned, handed Brock his drink, and raised his glass in a toast. “Happy holidays. And due to many talented medical people, it will be happy for me.”

“Amen to that, son,” added Brock, clinking glasses with both of them.

****

Before Linda left for her wedding and honeymoon, she prepared several wonderful meals for Susan to defrost and heat in the oven. Susan expected they’d be eating a casserole tonight, but Dusty surprised her with Italian takeout. The meal was delicious, and they consumed two bottles of wine with the meal. The three of them continued to reminisce about all the changes in their lives since the day they’d met while Susan cleaned up the meal’s remains, brewed a pot of coffee, and stuck the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

“I haven’t laughed so much in ages,” she admitted over coffee, as a few tears slid down her cheeks. “Certainly, not since Dusty had his accident. And I’m so thankful that the three of us are friends again.”

“I’m happy we’ve gotten our friendship back, too, Susan. But cowboys don’t cry,” Dusty teased, grinning.

“Especially old cowboys,” added Brock, finishing his coffee.

Buster sauntered over, rested his head on Susan’s leg, and whimpered while staring into her eyes.

“At least you can sense when a woman’s feeling a little emotional and requires some comforting, don’t you boy?” Susan bent down and hugged the dog. “Men are so macho, refusing to show their feelings.”

“Buster, look at the time. Let’s head home before Susan has us bawling, too.” Brock chuckled. “Thank you for the dinner invitation, Dusty.”

“Be careful walking home. Don’t fall and hurt yourself,” warned Susan, kissing Brock’s cheek.

“Hurting yourself is my specialty,” mumbled Dusty, limping out to the front entryway, aided by his cane.

“I hope you make a resolution to refrain from any reoccurrences in the New Year,” said Brock, struggling into his jacket.

“I intend to behave myself.” Dusty laughed. “I’m tired of ambulance rides, hospital stays, and popping pills. I’ll keep working with my therapist until I’m as good as new though. Last August I never thought it was possible, but I believe my dreams for this ranch might actually come true. And I’ll be a part of it.”

“Darn right. Happy Hooves Stables will be a successful business by this time next year,” predicted Brock. “And I’m delighted to be involved.”

“We wouldn’t have an animal on the property right now, except for Buster here, if it wasn’t for you. I can’t thank you enough, Brock. I’m looking forward to seeing how much we can accomplish in the coming year.”

“Me too, son. It’ll be a lot of hard work. Regardless, we’re going to have fun.”

Susan stood in the living room listening to her favorite two men conversing in the front entryway. She held back her tears, wishing she could be included in their plans. She’d love nothing better than to share her life with Dusty, live on the ranch, marry him, and have his children. She could commute to Helena for work and continue to build her career.

Nothing but a dream. Maybe it just wasn’t in the universe’s master plan for her.

Dusty shuffled into the room, settled on the sofa, and rubbed his temples. “What time is it?”

“A little after eleven o’clock. Are you tired? I don’t want you to overdo it.”

“I’ll live. Come sit with me for awhile. If we stayed up until midnight, it would be Christmas Day and we could open our presents.” Dusty met her eyes, expectantly. He reached over and tucked her hair behind her ears. “Gosh, you’re beautiful.”

“As long as Santa doesn’t catch us,” teased Susan.

They sat together on the sofa across from the fireplace, drinking hot chocolate like a couple of kids since Dusty didn’t want to mix more alcohol with his medications. They discussed the weekend she spent visiting with Amanda and her new son, and Catherine and her almost ten month old twin boys. Susan didn’t mention the brief moment of jealousy she’d experienced, seeing her friends married with new babies. But she didn’t begrudge them their happiness, she just longed for her own Mr. Right and a family for herself.

“Susan, there’s something I should tell you,” whispered Dusty, out of the blue.

Immediately, her heart stopped for a couple seconds. She took a deep breath and met his eyes. “Oh-oh. Will I want to hear this?”

“I’ve led you to believe the only reason I attempted to break off our relationship was embarrassment about my condition. But there’s another reason, too,” said Dusty, entwining their fingers. “It’s something we should discuss.”

“Okay. What’s the reason?”

“My mother.”

Susan gaped. “Your mother? She’s dead. What does she have to do with this?”

“Everything. Ma was held prison on our ranch—married to an abusive alcoholic, scrimping to make ends meet during lean years, working her fingers to the bone dawn to dusk seven days a week. I don’t recall seeing her looking happy for one moment while we lived there. It wasn’t until Pa died and she sold the ranch and moved to town that she regained her confidence and enjoyed life. I don’t want that for you.”

“How on earth would our lives compare? You’re not abusive or a problem drinker. You’re financial situation isn’t a problem. I don’t see...”

“No, but you’d be tied to a cripple who couldn’t do an honest day’s work, or help care for the kids or play sports with them. Instead of falling asleep listening to the hustle and bustle of a big city, you’d be listening to crickets chirping and coyotes howling. I was afraid you’d regret your decision to stand by me when you realized you’d never enjoy life as long as I was alive, holding you back.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” Susan swatted his arm. “Lots of men in wheelchairs succeed in business, enjoy a satisfying sex life, help raise families, and keep their wives more than content both in and out of the bedroom. And I love living here on the ranch. It’s so peaceful and relaxing.”

“But I can’t guarantee you everything will...”

“Life doesn’t come with a guarantee for anyone.” Susan held his face in her hands. “The things Fate has in store for us are the things we’ll handle, endure, overcome, make the best of. And who’s to say it will all be negative? Happy Hooves Stables could make millions and win charitable awards. Perhaps we’ll be blessed with twins. Wouldn’t that be a hoot? If life came with a prearranged game plan, wouldn’t it be boring?”

“I suppose so, but I never saw Ma as happy as I did when I visited her after she moved off the ranch and was out on her own. Ma told me a lot of the other widows seemed lost and adrift in a sea of uncertainty after their spouses passed. But Ma found herself after she escaped that ranch and her husband.”

“Seriously, I’d never consider you a burden, or holding me back, or any of that nonsense. I’d hope you would consider us a team. I know I would.” Susan glanced at her watch. “Enough discussion about such silliness. It is ten minutes after twelve. Merry Christmas, Dusty.” She leaned over and kissed him.

Immediately, Dusty wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss. “God, I’ve missed you, Susan. You have no idea how many nights I’ve dreamed of our evening together in Bozeman. And the time I spent with you at your condo when we returned to Helena, before I moved here.”

“I know. I was so happy. I thought…”

“Yeah, I enjoyed our time together, too, and I was looking forward to our dinner celebration. And then the accident happened.” Dusty visibly cringed. “I can’t believe how horribly I treated you afterward and then…”

Susan covered his lips with her fingers, silencing him. “Ancient history. You were scared and in pain and you had no idea what the future held for you.”

“I know, but that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have taken…”

“You’re forgiven. You’re doing so well, and I know you’re going to walk again, be able to operate Happy Hooves the way you visualized from the start.” Susan hopped off the sofa, dug under the tree for his Christmas gift. “Let’s open our presents!”

She flopped down on the sofa and handed him the small rectangular package wrapped in red paper with green plaid ribbon and a matching bow. Nothing said country like plaid, and Dusty exuded country. After contemplating the matter for a half hour, she’d written,
Merry Christmas, Dusty. Hugs, kisses, and all my love, Susan
on the tag. Direct, uncomplicated. The gift would eliminate any doubt about how she felt about him.

“Now, what do we have here? Looks like a tie box.” Dusty ripped the wrapping off and opened the top. He folded the tissue back and reached for the pair of concert tickets. “My God, Susan! Tim McGraw and Faith Hill? Next April in Vegas? I don’t want to even think about what these cost you, but I love it! And you know who’ll be sitting there right beside me.”

“Brock?” she asked, innocently.

Dusty grinned. “Of course, and you can doggie-sit Buster while we’re away.”

Susan playfully punched his arm. “Brock better pack his bathing suit. I booked a king suite with a hot tub.”

“To hell with Brock.” Dusty pulled her into a tight embrace and added, empathetically, “The only person who’s coming with me is you. Do you want to drive or fly?”

“I have air miles. We could fly.”

“Forget it.” Dusty waved off her suggestion. “You bought the concert tickets and the room. The flight is on me. This will be so great.”

Susan beamed. “I’m glad you like your gift.”

“Okay, your turn.” Dusty leaned over the end of the couch and pulled a package from between the tree branches. The square box was beautifully wrapped in silver paper with a stunning emerald green ribbon and an elaborate matching bow in the middle.

Susan read the tag,
Merry Christmas. With my love. Dusty
. She gaped at the gift, stunned by the sentiment that meant so much. He loved her, too. Still loved her despite all of their arguments and disagreements and fallings out. “This looks too pretty to open,” she said, grinning.

“Well, I suppose you could just look at it forever and…”

“Not on your life,” she interrupted him while ripping the bow and ribbon off. She removed the paper, dug inside the box.

And discovered…another wrapped box.

Smaller, still square.

Susan’s heartbeat raced. Could this be a ring box? She met Dusty’s eyes, but his expression didn’t give anything away.

She unwrapped the second box, wordlessly, and then lifted the top.

A pair of diamond earrings, at least two carats by all appearances, sparkled from the bed of blue velvet lining. “Dusty, these are beautiful,” gushed Susan, hiding her disappointment. For a brief moment, she believed he’d bought her an engagement ring and intended to propose this very minute.

Yeah, right. Just wishful thinking, she reminded herself.

Dusty beamed. “I’m glad you like them. Can’t wait to see them on those ears I love to nibble on.”

Susan smiled, weakly. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d nibbled on her damn ears. More like blistered them with four-letter words, until a couple weeks ago when he’d re-evaluated his life and allowed her back into it. Although he had apologized for his behavior, he hadn’t suggested they resume their relationship, appearing content to remain just friends.

“We’d better turn in, or you’ll be too exhausted to enjoy Christmas Day.” Susan tidied up the wrapping paper and clasped her gift to her chest. “Thank you. I love them.”

“Thanks for the tickets. We’re going to have an unbelievable time in Vegas.” Dusty attempted to stand, wavered on his feet.

Susan reached out a hand, helped steady him. “Do you need assistance to get to your room?” Living in a ranch house with all the rooms on the main floor and no stairs proved an enormous advantage, but Dusty inhabited the master bedroom at the far end of the hallway. Being so tired, it might prove a long trek for him tonight.