If Wishes Were Horses (23 page)

When she returned home, Phoebe begged him never to tell Wyatt and Morgan. No good could come from recounting the tale, she said. It would only rekindle his grief, and instill unneeded pain in their boys. And so their sons were never told, and life went on…

 

WHEN RAM TURNED AROUND
to again face Jacobson, his eyes were moist. The reverend looked at his glass for a time, then back at his friend's face.

“Phoebe was never angry with you,” he offered. “There was no need—you blamed yourself enough for two. Yes, you should have dismantled the damned thing sooner. But what's done is done. After all, you didn't know that it would give way. And who could have guessed that Phoebe would ever do that? Self-recrimination is death to one's soul, Ram. It made no more sense for you back then than it does for Wyatt now.”

“I know,” Ram answered.

“I also know how close you are to your boys,” Jacobson said. “But this secret wall between you and them must come down, if for no other reason than Wyatt needs you right now. It's amazing how such destructive barriers can grow up between people who love each other. And oddly enough, sometimes they're easily ignored. You have to tell him, Ram. It's what Phoebe would want.”

Ram wiped his eyes. “Wyatt is right.”

“About what?” the reverend asked.

“You really do know how to hit below the belt.”

“You should see the other tools in my godly skill set,” Jacobson answered. “So will you tell him?”

Ram took a deep breath. “I'll try.”

“Thank you,” Jacobson answered. “It seems that I owe you. I'll leave my payment right here.”

Jacobson crushed out his cigar, telling Ram that he understood its meaning. His work finished, he left the study and quietly closed the door. After staring blankly at the door for a time, Ram closed his eyes.

He had of course long understood Wyatt's grief over the loss
of his wife and son. And illogical as it might be, he also suspected that Wyatt might somehow hold himself accountable for their deaths. But until tonight, Ram had never grasped the full depth of Wyatt's personal guilt. And like Jacobson had said, the dual walls of tragedy that had grown between him and Wyatt had kept each of them from telling the other his secret.
Like father, like son,
he thought.

Feeling emotionally spent, Ram sat down heavily in his chair. The other part of what Jacobson had said was also true. Ram had largely forgiven himself for that awful day. But could he impart that wisdom to Wyatt? Would he be able to find the right words to help his troubled son?

Ram reached out and poured another two fingers of bourbon. As he sipped it, his tears came again. Then he grasped the beloved old photo of Phoebe that sat on the desk.

“If only you were here, my darling,” he said softly. “I could use your help just now…”

A
S THE PARTY
wound down, Gabby glanced at Trevor. He looked handsome in his new blazer and slacks. He was eagerly chatting with Sally, causing Gabby to more fully realize how close they had become. With her Goth appearance banished for the night, Sally looked positively transformed. She wore a tasteful red party dress, with matching heels.

It was going on one
A.M.
, and the formal dinner had ended hours ago. Most of the guests had left for home, leaving a few diehards partying inside the big house or gliding about the dance floor. Gabby couldn't compare this ball to previous ones, but if the guests' merriment had counted for anything, tonight had been a roaring success. Wyatt had left the table about half an hour ago to mingle with his remaining guests. Gabby guessed that Ram and Morgan were doing the same.

Gabby stared down at the remnants of her baked Alaska. There remained much that she wanted to say to Wyatt, even though the night was ending. Her best chance had been while they danced, but the moment had carried her away. During dinner, decorum had demanded that their conversation remain superficial. And so she bided her time, hoping that he would return to her.

Gabby again looked around. She would miss this place, and she was grateful to Wyatt for allowing her and Trevor to revisit the ranch anytime they wanted. But the more she thought about it, the more she guessed that it wouldn't happen. She had come to realize that seeing Wyatt occasionally, only to have their relationship never deepen, would be far too painful for her. Trevor would be disappointed, meaning that she would have to find a good excuse for not returning. If her fairy tale was to end, it was appropriate that it do so on the night of the annual ball. She would never forget the Flying B, and it was truly a pleasure to have known—

“Is this chair taken, young lady?” a gravelly voice asked.

Gabby turned to see Ram standing alongside her. He looked comic in his tuxedo and cowboy boots. Drink in hand, Ram sat heavily in Wyatt's chair.

“Looks like the party's nearly over,” he said. “That's good! I love the yearly ball, until I remember how much damn work it always is. Then I can't wait to see everybody go home. It's like beating your head against the wall, simply because it feels so good when it stops.” The old man rubbed his chin. “Does that make me a bad host?”

Gabby smiled. “There isn't a host in the world who hasn't felt that way at the end of a long night. That doesn't make you bad. It only makes you human.”

“Bless you,” Ram said. “How do you always know the right thing to say?”

Ram watched Gabby's expression sadden. “I don't,” she answered. Again looking into Ram's old eyes, she decided to speak her heart. “Especially where Wyatt is concerned,” she added softly.

Ram sighed. “You care about him a lot, don't you?”

Gabby nodded. “More than I have a right to, it seems.”

For the first time since knowing Gabby, Ram scowled harshly at her. “Don't you ever say that again! He's the problem, not you! He couldn't find a better woman if he looked for a thousand years!”

Gabby was taken aback by Ram's outburst. Realizing that he had startled her, Ram took her hands into his.

“I'm sorry, my dear,” he said. “It's just that I learned something about Wyatt tonight and it upset me. It wasn't totally unexpected, but it disturbed me just the same. It reaffirmed the fact that I'm probably not the world's best father.”

“Is something wrong?” Gabby asked.

Ram picked up his drink and took a long swallow. “Nothing that hasn't been hanging around for the last five years.”

Gabby was about to ask Ram what he meant, then saw Wyatt approaching. He looked tired, but he managed to smile.

“It seems that you two have become inseparable,” Wyatt said.

Gabby laughed. “He can bother me anytime. I think he's sweet.”

“Sweet?”
Wyatt asked. “I've heard him called many things, but never that.”

“Then it's high time that somebody did,” Ram countered.

Wyatt looked over at Trevor. “How are you doing, pal?”

“I don't want to go home, but I'm tired,” Trevor said.

“Before you leave, I want to see you and your mother alone,” Wyatt said. “Would you mind coming into the house?”

“Why?” Trevor asked.

“You'll see.”

Ram winked and nudged Trevor's ribs. “Don't worry,” Ram said. “I'll keep all the other young bucks away from Sally until you come back.”

Her mind racing, Gabby followed behind Wyatt and Trevor. She desperately wanted to talk to Wyatt, but what she had to say wasn't meant for Trevor's ears. After they entered the house, Wyatt shepherded them among the few guests still mingling in the foyer, and then toward the huge curved staircase.

Gabby and Trevor had never been upstairs. To their delight, they found it nearly as impressive as the first floor. As their curiosity grew, Wyatt led them down one hall and then another. After stopping before a pair of double doors, he opened them and ushered Gabby and Trevor into an elegant bedroom.

“Let me guess,” Gabby said. “This one's yours.”

“Yes,” Wyatt answered as he walked across the room and toward another set of ornate doors.

He opened them to reveal a huge walk-in closet. After disappearing into the closet for a moment, he returned with two packages. Each was wrapped with blue paper, and bound with red
ribbon and a matching bow. Wyatt handed the larger package to Gabby and the other to Trevor. The mother and son looked at Wyatt with surprise.

“What are these?” Gabby asked.

“They're going-away presents,” Wyatt answered.

As the reality set in, Gabby took a sharp breath.
Going-away presents,
she thought.
It's really going to happen…I really am going away.
She did her best to smile.

“You didn't have to do this…,” she said.

“I wanted to,” Wyatt answered. “So are you two going to open your gifts, or do you need another engraved invitation?”

Gabby and Trevor unwrapped the packages. When they saw their contents, their eyes became wide. Gabby's gift was a stylish gray alligator purse with sterling silver accents. It was a beautiful thing that would easily retail for two thousand dollars in any of Boca's classier boutiques.

Trevor's gift was equally impressive. It was an alligator hip wallet with an attached silver chain and was also dyed light gray. Both the wallet and the purse were tastefully embossed with the Flying B insignia. Gabby and Trevor stared at Wyatt with amazement.

“My God, Wyatt, they're beautiful,” Gabby whispered. “But we can't accept them. They must have cost a fortune!”

“Not really,” Wyatt answered. “Do you remember my story about those two gators I shot? Well, let's just say that their contribution was larger than mine.”

“Holy shit!” Trevor shouted gleefully. “These are really made from those dead gators?”

Gabby started to reprimand Trevor then stopped, deciding that she hadn't the heart for it.

Wyatt laughed. “That's right. Big John knows a local leather-smith who did the work. Alligator hide is tough. Your presents should last forever.”

But this evening won't,
Gabby thought. As she stood looking at Wyatt, she blinked back tears.

While Trevor eagerly placed his wallet into the hip pocket of his slacks, Wyatt showed him how to attach the other end of the silver chain to one of his belt loops. When Wyatt finished, Trevor was grinning from ear to ear.

“Thank you, Wyatt!” he said. “Nobody at school has anything as cool as this!”

“You're welcome,” Wyatt answered.

“Trevor, would you mind going back to the table?” Gabby asked. “I'd like to talk to Wyatt for a moment.”

“Okay,” Trevor answered happily. “I'll see you down there.”

After Trevor left the room, Gabby took a deep breath and looked at Wyatt's face. If she never saw him after tonight, she wanted to remember him as best she could. And so she simply stood there for a time, drinking him in.

She gazed at his slightly graying temples, and the endearing crow's-feet at the corners of his amazingly blue eyes. His strong, expressive hands hung loosely by his sides. True to form, he had discarded his bow tie some time ago, and the top two buttons of his tuxedo shirt were open. A telltale five o'clock shadow had formed on his face and she could still smell faint traces of his cologne, reminding her of when they had danced.

Almost unconsciously she turned and looked around his bedroom, her searching gaze finally landing on the four-poster bed. Wyatt and Krista had shared that bed, Gabby knew. As an image of their entwined bodies crystallized in her mind, Gabby's emotions turned ever more bittersweet. She was glad that Wyatt had shared such intimate moments with Krista, but she was also saddened that she would never experience that kind of bliss with the enigmatic man standing before her.
Krista must have understood him,
Gabby thought.
But perhaps I was never meant to.

The wistful look in Gabby's eyes was not lost on Wyatt. He reached out and took her by her shoulders. “What's wrong?” he asked.

Gabby looked into his face. “Nothing…”

“What was it that you wanted to tell me?”

Gabby hesitated for a moment before again glancing at his left hand. Just as she suspected, his gold wedding band shone in the light of the room.
That ring will be with him so long as he remains bound to Krista's memory,
Gabby realized.
His heart isn't ready for me. Perhaps it never will be.

Wyatt pulled her closer. As she became lost in his embrace, Gabby closed her eyes. “Tell me,” he asked again, quietly this time.

Very well,
Gabby decided.
Because when all is said and done, I cannot lose a love that I never had…

Gabby opened her eyes. “Wyatt, I—”

“Wyatt, where the hell are you?” a familiar voice unexpectedly called out.

The spell suddenly broken, Wyatt and Gabby turned to see Morgan come barreling into the bedroom. On seeing Wyatt hold
ing Gabby that way, an odd look came over Morgan's face. Guessing that he had just interrupted a special moment, he unnecessarily cleared his throat.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Morgan said, “but I've been looking all over for you. Dad wants us downstairs, and pronto. The Winthrops are leaving.”

Wyatt gently released Gabby's shoulders. For her, the loss of his touch seemed final, irrevocable. Wyatt turned back and looked into her eyes.

“I'm sorry,” he said, “but I have to go. The Winthrops are Blaine and Blaine's biggest clients. Will I see you before you leave?”

Gabby suddenly realized that her heart simply couldn't endure this scene again. The moment had passed forever, it seemed. Even so, she somehow forced herself to smile.

“Of course,” she said. It was the only time she had ever lied to him, and doing so stabbed at her heart as sharply as knowing he was leaving.

After Wyatt and Morgan left the room, she sat heavily on the bed. The sounds of the waning party drifted up into the room, but for Gabby the festivities were taking place a million miles away.

When she again looked at her new purse, this time she opened it. To her surprise, one of Wyatt's engraved business cards lay inside. With trembling fingers, she removed it to find a handwritten note on its backside. Although the words were few, they broke her heart: