Wild Horses (23 page)

“Because I was being dumb. And not taking responsibility. Just like you told me that night.”

She studied him for a moment, as if considering her words. “But you
did
take responsibility, eventually. You asked your dad for help. How did that go, by the way?”

Just the memory had stress tensing his muscles. “A little ugly at first. He was still really angry with me for ‘turning my back on the family business.' But then I remembered how much he cares about the public image of his company. And with people becoming more aware of environmental issues these days, their image isn't so great anymore. So I offered him a trade. I'd help him improve his image if he'd help me testify at this hearing.”

“How are you going to improve their image?”

He held out his arms to his sides. “You're looking at the new environmental officer for Northwest Forestry Corporation. My job is to make suggestions for more sustainable practices that won't hurt his bottom line too badly.”

“So you're moving back to Seattle?”

“No! I think my dad and I both know that if we lived in the same state we'd probably fight nonstop. I'm staying on my ranch, but I'll fly up there a few times a year.”

She looked genuinely happy for the first time today. “That's amazing! And he's paying you?”

“Only in congressional connections. We agreed that for every idea they implement, he'll pull a string for me.”

She laughed. “It sounds like a good bargain on both sides.”

“It got me here today. Do you think we made a difference?”

“Who knows?” She looked grim. “I hate to be cynical, but I have a feeling Mike Latimer and his industry donate a whole lot more to the senators' campaigns than we do.”

“Maybe we swayed them with the poetry of our words.”

“Ha! Maybe. Hopefully.”

He loved her smile. He could look at her like this forever. He wanted to.

She glanced at the curb, where a cab was waiting. “I really need to go. If I don't make my flight I won't get to my interview.”

“Don't interview.”

“What?”

“Come home. Please?” He was begging, but she was worth begging for. “Stay with me. And Wade. You could start your own business. With this drought, I bet you could get consulting work all along the Sierras and in Nevada, too. You could help ranchers maximize their grazing land. And work with them to establish more drought tolerant vegetation.”

She glanced at him and looked away but she didn't say anything. Which meant she was either listening to his words, or just waiting for him to go away. He had no way of knowing.

They got to the cab and he waited, hoping she'd agree to skip the flight, have dinner with him. And let him talk her into giving them another chance. But she just reached up and gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek. “Safe flight home,” she said.

“Will do.” He opened the cab door for her, disappointment sinking his heart to his toes. “See you in Benson.”

“Yes,” she said, without the enthusiasm he hoped for. “See you there.”

“And, Nora—”

She paused, a hand on the door frame.

“I wish I could take back so much of what I said that night.”

“Me, too,” she said quietly. And then she slipped into the cab, shut the door and left him standing on the curb, watching her disappear into the thick DC traffic.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

T
HE
BEEPING
OF
his alarm seeped slowly into Todd's sleeping brain. He groped the nightstand and smacked the clock, confused for a moment about where he was. He opened an eye and took in the furnishings of his own room, the view out his wall of windows. He was home. And the fog in his brain was from the late flight last night, the long drive from Reno to his ranch and general sleep deprivation after his whirlwind trip to Washington.

He remembered, all in a rush, the phone calls he'd made and the emails he'd sent from the airport in DC. He grabbed his phone and touched the email app, smiling when he saw the flood of responses. People were coming. Everyone he'd asked was up to the challenge. And most important, Lee Ellison, manager at the DRM station, had miraculously agreed to the plan. Which meant he needed to get his horses fed and load up his truck with supplies so he could be at the station by 9:00 a.m.

He did it all in a rush, checking troughs and tossing hay with barely contained excitement. At eight thirty he was in his truck, and at nine he was in the station parking lot, with almost everyone he knew from Benson surrounding him. But the best part was Wade, looking uncomfortable in the crowd but showing up anyway, to help out the captured mustangs.

Jack Baron took charge of the holding pens, carefully moving the horses as far away from the chosen construction site as possible. Slaid Jacobs was appointed general manager of the building area, because he was the mayor, so it made sense. And Todd helped everyone unload supplies, amazed at the generosity. Phil from the hardware store had donated all the lumber, the nails and screws, but other people had brought fencing, tools, miscellaneous boards and even a painted wooden sign that read Home Sweet Home.

And by five o'clock that evening, the mustangs had a large shelter, open on one long side so they wouldn't feel confined, but plenty big enough to shade them from the summer sun.

* * *

N
ORA
PARKED
HER
Jeep in front of the Blue Water Mercantile. She'd been dismayed last night, when she'd gotten home from Arizona, to find their refrigerator nearly empty. Wade hadn't gone to the store while she'd been away, which worried her immensely.

She usually went to the downtown market, but the Blue Water was out on the edge of town. What it lacked in gourmet items it made up for in fewer customers. Maybe she could convince Wade to shop if he knew it was very low-key.

The bell chimed as she pushed open the door.

“Morning.” It was Dan Sanders—he'd owned the place forever. He nodded as she walked in and Nora smiled. He'd been nice, always. Slipping her and Wade lollipops when they were little. Slipping them bags of what he called “extra” food when they'd been older and their dad forgot to provide any.

“Morning, Dan. How are you today?”

He looked at her more closely. “Well, I'll be. Nora Hoffman? I'd heard you and Wade were back in town!” He came out from behind the counter to shake her hand.

“It's good to see you, Dan. I wasn't sure if you still owned this place.”

“Oh, I'll never retire. I'd make my wife crazy if I did. How's that brother of yours settling in? I hear he was away being a soldier.”

“Wade's all right,” Nora said automatically.

But maybe he saw the worry in her eyes or maybe he just suspected, because he said, “It's not easy coming back from war. I fought in Vietnam, you know. Came home with a lot of troubles.”

“I didn't know that.” He'd always been an older man to her. She tried to imagine him like Wade, young, just back home from war, hurting inside, trying to find his place in the world.

“If your brother needs someone to talk to, tell him to come on in here. I can lend an ear. Sometimes it helps to know someone who's been through it.”

Nora wanted to ask him if he'd had PTSD. But how to ask that without invading his privacy? And Wade's. So she kept her question vague. “I think going from military to civilian life is a big adjustment. I actually came by to see if maybe this store was a little more quiet than the downtown market.”

Dan's eyes crinkled in a reassuring smile. “This is definitely the quiet end of town. And if Wade were to come by in the morning, say, about seven thirty? He'd be welcome to get his shopping done before I officially open.”

He understood. And the relief put tears in her eyes. “Thank you, Dan. Thank you so much. I'll let Wade know about your kind offer.”

“Tell him he'd be doing me a favor coming at that time. It so quiet around here when I'm opening. It would be nice to have a cup of coffee with someone.”

Moving back to Benson, she'd been afraid to face the judgment of her hometown. But Dan was reminding her of the immense kindness to be found here, along with the gossip. “I think he'd like that. I'll definitely let him know. And thank you. So much.”

He just took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “You're a great sister to him. You always were.”

She thought she might cry, so she just gave his hand a squeeze back. “And now I need to do a little shopping.”

He released her hand with a wink. “Make sure you check out that box of peaches in the back. They're even organic... Isn't that what all you young folks are into nowadays?”

She laughed. “This young folk is.” She grabbed a basket and headed over to take a look. The bell chimed again but she didn't pay much attention. Until she turned around to put her peaches in her basket and ran straight into Kit Hayes.

Kit's dark eyes, rimmed in their usual black liner, widened. “I don't think I'll ever get used to running into Hoffmans again,” she said. “It's just been so long.” She gave a nervous laugh. “And every time I see you, I find myself looking behind you for your big brother.”

“It's just me.” Nora could see a suspicious glimmer at the edges of Kit's eyes. More evidence she was still completely hung up on Arch. It had to be said. “Kit, I told you the truth at Todd's party. I've not heard from them. I don't think any of them, including Arch, are ever coming back.”

“You don't think I'm waiting, do you?” Kit squared her shoulders. She was wearing a simple black tank top, and the pink and yellow of the orchid tattoo that capped her left shoulder shifted when she moved. “I have a boyfriend. I'm busy with work, and I've got my dad to look after, too.”

“I'm sure,” Nora said mildly. “I wasn't suggesting anything. But I just really hope that you aren't counting on seeing him again.”

“Not counting on it.” Something sad flickered across Kit's mouth. “Maybe hoping for it.” She sighed and the tough exterior she projected to the world fell away. “I can't help it, Nora. I miss him. I really, really miss him.”

“Why?” It wasn't her business but she couldn't help asking. “He was such a jerk, Kit. When he was here, he was always in trouble. And he almost got
you
in trouble, bringing you with him on all his schemes. Then he went away, without even saying goodbye to you.”

Kit set her shopping basket down by her black cowboy boots. “It makes no sense, I know. I was a fool, running cons for him, stealing with him. I don't do any of that anymore, just so you know.”

“I'm glad,” Nora said.

“And I'm sure I'm an idiot to still have feelings for him. To wish he'd show up again. But the thing is, I really loved him. And I guess part of me still does.”

Well, that part she understood. If Todd had taught her anything, it was how easy you could keep loving someone, even when it was hopeless. But Arch didn't deserve Kit's devotion. “I can't help think that you deserve someone better. Someone honest, who has a real job and who treats you well.”

“I'm sure I do.” Kit's sigh was full of regret. “But love doesn't really work that way, does it? We don't choose who we love—we just love.”

“I guess so,” Nora agreed. “Though it sure would be easier if we could choose.”

Kit smiled at that. She was so pretty under her mask of makeup. “Look, Arch isn't perfect. He's not even necessarily a good guy, traditionally speaking. But when I was with him, even when we were fighting, he
felt
perfect for me. I guess what he taught me is that the right person can do a whole lot wrong, and still be your soul mate.”

Nora twisted the handle of her shopping basket, trying to understand. “I guess I've never had that feeling,” she finally said.

“Or you haven't let yourself have it.” Kit smiled at her. “I saw you with Todd. You two are meant to be. But you have to allow him to just be Todd. Even if that means he's different from you. Even if he has faults and that scares you a little.”

Nora's cheeks went pink. “I...” she stammered, at a loss for words at all this wisdom—from Kit of all people.
Let Todd be Todd.
“I don't know if I can.”

“Just think about it. And if you ever want to talk some more, come on by the Dusty Saddle. I bartend there most nights.”

“Sure,” Nora said, stunned at their role reversal. She'd felt so superior to Kit, so much more together than her, when they'd started this conversation. But it was clear that Kit was a pretty thoughtful person. Nora had just never realized it.

Kit picked up her basket. “Well, I'd better get shopping. It's good to see you, Nora.”

“Right. Good to see you, too.” Her shopping list forgotten, Nora headed over to the counter to pay Dan for the peaches. Kit's words threaded through her mind.
The right person can do a whole lot of wrong and still be your soul mate.

Kit could forgive Arch, who'd done
so
much wrong. Why couldn't Nora be more forgiving of Todd? Especially when he hadn't really done anything terrible. He thought about things differently. He was an idealist, and he pushed to make the world closer to the place he dreamed it could be. And sometimes he pushed too hard. But that wasn't a terrible fault, though it certainly could be annoying sometimes.

Nora walked back to her Jeep, organic peaches in hand, amazed at how one visit to the Blue Water had changed everything. Dan wanted to help Wade. And Kit had unwittingly helped her to see that if she wanted to find love, she had to open her heart.

* * *

N
ORA
UNFOLDED
HER
tarp and heaved some big rocks onto it. The wind could be strong out here in the evening, when it careened down the mountains toward the emptiness of the desert floor. Though she might be protected from it here.

She'd found a perfect campsite near the mouth of White Rock Canyon. It was ringed on three sides by boulders and nestled against a hill of sagebrush. Baking in the late-afternoon heat, the plants smelled amazing. She loosened the straps that bound her tent to her backpack and wrestled it out of its bag.

She wanted to see the horses again, too. To be close to the animals she'd sacrificed her government career for. Because she
had
lost her job. And had been told not to use the DRM as a future reference.

She wasn't surprised that she'd lost her contract. It had been a known risk. But the lack of a reference had surprised her. The animosity in Trent Nixon's voice had surprised her. It made her wonder if the DRM just wanted the horses gone. If they'd rather be free of the responsibility they'd been saddled with years ago, when they'd been made the reluctant caretakers of America's wild horses.

One thing Trent had made very clear was that they didn't appreciate their scientists criticizing their management in a congressional hearing.

She spread her tent out on the smoothest area she could find, then grabbed a rock and pounded in the stakes. It took only a few minutes more to slide the poles through the hooks and get the tent up. Shoving her pack inside, she grabbed her water bottle. If she got started now, she could get a look at the horses before dark. Assuming they were still sheltering from the summer heat in between the canyon walls.

She'd walked just a few yards up the trail when she saw the stallion. He was leading his herd cautiously—head high, nose in the wind—down the arroyo at the canyon mouth. As she watched he paused there, then led the way out onto the descending slopes to forage. Nora froze, retraced her steps and scrambled onto the largest of the boulders by her tent. She didn't have to hike in to see the horses. They were coming to her.

She pulled out her binoculars and trained them on the herd. There was the playful colt, a little bigger now, prancing along near his mom, kicking up his heels for no particular reason. There was a white horse she remembered from before, its coat flecked with brown. Nose to the ground, it was sniffing out the best grass. Then it stopped in front of a clump, strong teeth tearing into it. The plant biologist in her cringed. The part of her that Todd had awakened, emotional and impractical, thought it was beautiful.

Her life had been a lot simpler before Todd had shown up. It might not have been very exciting, but it had been easier. Nora sometimes thought of her mind as an attic. And everything in it had been organized neatly into its own compartment. Even the ugly things, like her memories of her dad and brothers, were kept in their own box with the lid firmly nailed shut.

And then she'd met Todd again, and he'd walked through her attic, flipping the lids off her boxes, shaking the contents out until everything was spilling over, jumbled and a whole lot more confusing than it had been. But it was also a lot more interesting. And she wasn't sure if she was ready to put everything back in its original safe place.

More of the horses were out of the canyon now, probably the entire herd. She counted twenty-three in all. A bay mare was closest, and Nora studied her through the binoculars, admiring the deep brown eyes, soulful under the heavy black forelock. She was just lovely.