0373659458 (R) (20 page)

“That we’re friends. Which is true. Right?”

Irritation pricked behind his eyes, that his goal—to bolster her confidence, help her overcome whatever was keeping her from reclaiming her full self—had somehow backfired. Sure, he heard the humor behind the question, but he wasn’t a total moron, he knew a defense mechanism when he heard it. Or rather, recognized it.

And he had no earthly idea how to fix this mess of his own misguided making.

“Always,” he said. Even if in their case “always” came with an inevitable end date. “What time do you want us there?”

“Six or so is fine. So see you then?”

“You got it.”

Zach disconnected the call, frowning at his phone for several seconds.

Why on earth had he thought making love to her would set him
free
?

* * *

“Who was that?”

Glancing up at Landon, who’d come up beside her in the living room, Mallory grabbed a fistful of his long-sleeve T-shirt to tug him closer, wrapping one arm around his waist.

“Zach. I invited him and his boys to dinner tomorrow night.”

“Oh. Okay. C’n we go see the horses again?”

Guess it was no secret where his priorities lay. As witnessed by his delighted “No, way!” when he’d first seen them. “We were just down there, goof.”

He gave her that adorable grin that’d been slaying her since he was six weeks old. As it undoubtedly would untold numbers of females in his future, God help her. And him. “Please?”

In reality, he could go see them himself—he was eleven, after all. A big boy. And the pasture wasn’t far. But from the moment she and Dorelle picked him up at the Albuquerque airport, it’d really hit her how much she’d missed him. Meaning she didn’t want to spend a single moment apart she didn’t have to.

“Okay. But go put on more clothes, it’s chillier here than you’re used to.”

Another grin. “I noticed.”

Edgar prancing at his heels—the dog clearly hadn’t wanted to leave his boy, either—Landon returned in an LA basketball hoodie that six months earlier been too big. Now bony wrists protruded from stumpy sleeves, the bottom barely skimming his jeans’ waistband.

“You seriously need to stop growing,” Mallory said, and he giggled. Although was it her imagination, or was that giggle deeper than she remembered? As though he’d aged ten years in six weeks.

Or she had.

“It smells so good here,” Landon said when they got outside, where the mingled scents of damp earth and decaying leaves embraced them like best friends. Spinning around on one foot, he sucked in a deep breath. “Like...like the earth is supposed to smell.”

“Now you know why I love it.”

“Yeah.”

Bundled up in a lightweight down vest over her hoodie, Mallory wheeled down the ramp off the deck onto the path she and Zach had wandered along that first time he’d come out to check on the stables. Without too much trouble she could see him sitting at the base of that apple tree, his expression one of calm acceptance as she told him about Landon, why she’d decided it was best that he stay in LA.

Of course, since the man was camped out in her thoughts 24/7, anyway...

There was a time when she’d been optimistic to the point of stupid, believing if you simply wanted something enough, it’d work out. Age and experience had made her much more pragmatic, however. She knew Zach’s grief was far too deeply embedded for her—or anyone else—to simply wish it away. Still, she’d do anything to ease the darkness inside him. Permanently, that is—

Occasionally kicking at a stone in the path, Landon chattered away about school and his friends and his life as they made their way to the small pasture where the two horses grazed. She smiled as she listened, grateful that he sounded like a normal, happy sixth grader, clearly much less stressed than before. Not that he’d said anything, then or now, about the toll the situation had taken on him. He never had been a complainer, bless his sweet soul. Like her, she thought. But a mother knew these things. Relief flooded her, that she’d made the right choice. For now, anyway.

“So they don’t live in the stables?” he said, approaching the fence. Both horses flicked their ears before deciding to amble on over, check out the new human. Clearly in love, Landon giggled when first one, then the other horse nuzzled his head, warming Mallory’s heart.

“Only at night. Because how would you feel, having to stay in your room all the time?”

“Good point. So they just eat the grass and stuff?”

She wheeled up to the fence, handing him a piece of carrot before holding another one out to Macy, the calm, precious four-year-old mare whose previous owner had moved into a facility where she couldn’t take him.

“Mostly, yes. At least in the warmer months. This growth is too old and neglected, though. So I’ll have to supplement until spring, when the land can be tilled and replanted.”

His eyes swung to hers. “That mean you’re gonna stay here?”

Landon’s words knifed straight through her, as she realized exactly how attached she’d become to the little farm, the plans she’d made without even thinking of the ramifications—that somehow she’d gone from thinking in terms of vacation home to
home
, period.

And that was the sound of her heart being slowly ripped in two.

Smiling, Mallory told him the truth. As much as she could, anyway. “I really like it here. I always have. I guess it reminds me of my childhood, a little. However...” She angled the chair to face him. “I miss you. Constantly. So I’m still trying to figure out how to make this all work out.” He let her take his hand when she reached for it. “You seem a lot less fried.”

Landon let go to climb up on the fence next to his horse. “Maybe. Although this new school?” The private school Russell had paid a pretty penny for Landon to attend. “The classes are whipping my
butt
. But the kids are cool, so...” He shrugged.

“And the teachers?”

“Hard. Like I said. But fair. And what’s that you always say, about challenges making us stronger? So it’s all good. Anyway—when can I ride him?”

“It’s too late today. But tomorrow for sure.”

“Cool. And you’re gonna ride with me?”

“That’s the plan. Although you and Grandma are gonna have to put the ramp together.”

He scoffed. “Grandma?”

“Hey. Don’t you be dissing your grandmother. This is the woman who built me a clubhouse when I was ten—with no instructions—from some scrap lumber we had lying around.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Grandma is fierce. She’s hardly gonna be intimidated by a little old ramp that’s basically like a big Lego set. So the two of you have got this, baby.”

Landon giggled again, then tromped over to plop in her lap, as he’d been doing from the moment she’d reassured him he couldn’t hurt her. And he still couldn’t, despite between roughly three times bigger than he was at six. That he still wanted to, however...

He looked around, then released a contented sigh. “I’m glad I’m here.”

“You and me both, kiddo.”

Chapter Eleven

S
eated at the big wooden dining table across from this Zach person, Landon was kind of having a hard time focusing on his fried chicken, even though he hadn’t had fried chicken in forever since Priscilla was all “Ew,
fried
food?” Also, he was starved from the high mountain air and riding Waffles and stuff. But between feeling weird that he hadn’t told Mom about everything at home and this so-called “friend” of hers...

Seriously, did Mom really think he wouldn’t pick up on whatever was going on between her and Zach? It was like when Dad had acted all nervous and stuff when he’d told him he and Priscilla were getting married. Like Landon hadn’t seen
that
coming from ten miles away. Although he wondered if Mom had. If she’d even known how long Dad had been seeing Priscilla. Of course, Landon wasn’t supposed to have known, either. But he wasn’t stupid, you know?

Not that Zach and Mom were acting all lovey-dovey or anything. But Landon could tell. By the way Zach smiled at Mom, sitting at the head of the table—it was just easier, with her chair and everything—by the way Mom’s eyes got all funny when she looked at him. By the way they laughed, like they shared some secret joke. And he hadn’t heard her laugh that much since...well, he couldn’t remember when.

Also, he’d sure never seen her look at Dad like that. Of course, Dad was a jerk, but still. And, yeah, Zach had helped Landon ride Waffles earlier, and he’d been real nice and patient and stuff. But Landon didn’t know anything about this dude, and that made him feel all jumbled up inside—

Oops. Busted. Landon ducked his head, but not before Zach obviously noticed him staring at him. Shoot, now his face was all hot. He caught Zach’s smile, though. A nice smile. Real. Not like the ones grown-ups gave kids when they wanted to pretend they were friends with you because, say, they liked your dad.

“So you guys have any plans for the week?”

Zach had directed the question to him, not his mom. And again, like he was really interested, not like he was trying to suck up.

Landon glanced at Mom, who actually looked kind of relaxed. “Um...you said some of the Indian pueblos, maybe?”

“I did. And to Santa Fe, of course.” She turned to Zach. “You and the boys want to tag along?”

He shook his head. “I’ve got either clinic hours or ranch visits for the next several days. And Jeremy has school.” Seated beside his father, the older boy made a face for Landon’s benefit. “And historic sites are kinda lost on a three-year-old.”

“Another time, then,” Mom said, smiling at Jeremy. Then she took a bite of potato salad and said quietly, “I also thought we might go up to the resort,” and Zach gave her a weird look.

“The resort?” Landon asked.

Mom cleared her throat, then pressed her napkin to her mouth. “The ski resort. Where I had my accident. It’s absolutely beautiful up there—the views are incredible. It’s where...it’s where I first fell in love with the area. Why I wanted to buy a vacation home here.”

O-kay... Landon got the definite feeling there was more to what she was saying than what she’d said. Especially given the expression on Zach’s face. What the heck? But all Landon said was, “Awesome,” as Zach’s littlest boy, in a booster seat beside Landon, started giggling like crazy at something Grandma had said or done. The kids were both pretty cute, Landon had to admit. Of course, generally speaking he liked little kids. Unless they were brats, then not so much. Mom had told him about their mother—that must’ve been so hard. Although he guessed the little guy—who’d slid down from his seat to go to his dad—probably didn’t remember her.

Draped across Zach’s legs, Liam disappeared except for his red curls. Then he started playing peekaboo with Landon, popping up and giggling, then vanishing, then popping up again. Landon couldn’t help but laugh.

Zach gave Landon one of those smiles again, then lugged the little boy onto his lap. “What’re you doing, goof?” he said, grinning, then making eat-you-up noises in the little guy’s neck.

“Daddy!” he said over the giggles. “That tickles! Do it again!”

So he did, over and over. Like there was nothing he’d rather do than play with his kid.

Suddenly feeling like he was suffocating, Landon asked to be excused, then went outside to sit on the deck steps. Edgar followed, plastering himself beside Landon’s hip with a huge doggy sigh. It was frickin’ freezing, and practically pitch-dark, but he didn’t care. He pulled Edgar into his lap, his chest pinching at how much he missed his three mutts back in LA with a dog-sitter.

Then he heard footsteps behind him. Great.

“Your mom said you’d probably want this,” Jeremy said, handing him the throw from the sofa.

“Thanks,” Landon muttered, not wanting to be rude. And anyway, the blanket felt good as he wrapped up inside it with the dog.

Sucking on a Popsicle, Jeremy plopped onto the step beside him, offering Landon a second one.

“A little cold for these, doncha think?”

The younger boy shrugged. “I’ll eat it if you don’t want it.”

“No, that’s okay.” He took the Popsicle and started slowly peeling off the wrapper. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. How old are you?”

“Eleven. Twelve in January. You?”

“Almost eight. My brother’s three.”

Wadding up the wrapper to stick in his pocket, Landon smiled. “Cute kid.”

“Yeah, I guess. Except when he has meltdowns. Those are
not
pretty.”

Despite feeling all knotted up inside, Landon laughed. Frankly, he was dying to pump the kid for more information about their parents, but he seemed a little young for that. If he even knew anything—

“So do you like my dad?” he said. “Because I think your mom likes him a lot.”

What the heck? Landon glanced over at Jeremy, slowly swirling the multicolored Popsicle in his mouth.

“Why? Did somebody say something?”

“N’uh-uh,” the kid said, shaking his head. Edgar stuck his head out of the blanket, sniffing the air. Because food. Jeremy reached over to scratch him behind his ears, getting slobbery fingers for his efforts. “But I can tell. Can’t you?”

“Yeah,” Landon said, chomping off the top third of the Popsicle, the sharp cold giving him an instant brain freeze. “And I have no idea about your dad, I just met him.” Then, because he didn’t want to sound mean or anything, he added, “He seems pretty nice, though.”

Jeremy nodded, then held his treat in front of him, twirling it so it sparkled in the landscape lights out in the yard. The dog crawled off Landon’s lap, hopeful. Jeremy let him have a lick, so it was all cool. “So’s your mom,” the boy said, pulling back the Popsicle before the dog ate the whole thing. Then he licked right where Edgar had. “And grandma. She’s really funny.”

Landon felt his mouth pull up in a smile as the dog crawled back into his lap with a little groan. “I guess she is.”

“Anyway...” Jeremy gulped the last bite, swiped his hoodie sleeve across his mouth, then looked around behind him, as if to make sure they were alone. “A couple days ago,” he said, hugging his knees, “Liam and me stayed with our Gran and Gramps while your mom and my dad went to get your mom’s horse? And I heard them talking after I was supposed to be asleep? About how they wished it’d work out between your mom and my dad, on account of him being all alone after my mom died.”