Chasing the Sun (23 page)

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Authors: Kaki Warner

BOOK: Chasing the Sun
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In an attempt to buy himself back into the good graces of the ladies, Jack brought out some of the less controversial items in his trunk. Skirts made of long blades of grass, garlands of dried flowers, feather headdresses, a stuffed baby crocodile—not that well received—and several musical instruments from the wilds of Australia—a drone pipe, a bullroarer, and clap sticks—although Brady said the bullroarer didn’t sound like any bull he’d ever heard, and Charlie almost took Molly’s head off with it when he got it spinning around and around. Still, everybody seemed to enjoy looking over the items, and no one puked, and Daisy didn’t hit him a single time, so Jack figured it was a fine day all around.

Thirteen

THE DAYS GREW LONGER, THE SUN HOTTER. WHILE ELENA made preparations to leave, and the ranch workers looked ahead to spring roundup, and the cottonwoods unfurled new leaves, Jack continued the daily riding lessons and afternoon walks with Daisy and Kate. As their hikes ranged farther and became more strenuous, Daisy’s initial soreness gave way to renewed energy. But as her body strengthened, her will weakened, and thoughts of Jack haunted her nights.

She felt suspended in time, moving furiously, but going nowhere.

Several days after the “head” incident, Jack took them to the creek to see if it had risen still higher with the warmer weather and increased snowmelt. It had, and to the point that it was now overflowing the banks by several feet.

Slipping off the pouch of spare jackets and slickers they always brought along on their walks, Jack picked up a stick then knelt beside Kate. “Look, Katie-girl.” He tossed the stick into the rushing current. “See how the water swept the stick away?” Looping a protective arm around her narrow shoulders, he gave a gentle squeeze. “That could happen to you, little one. So you must never go into the water without your mama or me. Understand?”

“Titty too?”

“Kitty too.”

“Bad water.”

“Not bad. Just water. But when it’s moving fast, it’s not safe. Never, ever go into fast water. Promise?”

Kate nodded solemnly.

“That’s my girl.” He rose, picked up the pouch, and taking Kate’s hand in his, led her along the bank toward a huge boulder. As they drew closer, Daisy could see markings etched into the stone ... symbols, names, dates, initials.

“This is a message rock,” Jack explained. “People have been carving on it for hundreds of years. There’s even a marking left by a Spanish soldier that goes back to the fifteen hundreds. Look, Kate.” He bent and ran his fingers over a crude rendering of a deer. “An Indian put this here a long time ago. And these are names of pilgrims passing through. Want me to carve your name here?”

“Titty too?”

“Kitty’s too.” He glanced at Daisy. “And Mama’s, if she wants.”

Feeling suddenly that in agreeing she might be sending a message she didn’t want to give, Daisy tried to laugh it off. “You’d be carving for days.”

But he was already digging through the rocks for a piece of flint. “Your initials, then. I’ll do all our initials.”

It took him a while and the results were crude, but knowing her initials would be there for all time gave Daisy an eerie feeling, as if she were permanently attached to this place and this family by a few simple markings on a rock.

They continued their hike up through a stand of tall pines, following a clear trickle of icy water that wound down from deeper in the canyon. Their footfalls barely sounded against the thick carpet of pine needles, and here and there, patches of snow still clung in the shadows on the north sides of big boulders and under tangled blowdowns of toppled trees. Seeing that Kate was growing weary, Jack picked her up and let her doze against his chest as they followed a faint path that climbed steadily upward.

Hearing an odd noise coming from Jack, Daisy looked over at him. He seemed lost in thought, pleasant thoughts, judging by the smile tugging at his lips.

“What was that?” she asked.

He glanced at her over Kate’s head. “What was what?”

“That sound. Are you well?”

He flashed a sheepish grin. “I was humming a tune.”

“That was a tune?”

“What’d you think it was?”

“Tunes normally have more than one note.”

He chuckled. “In my head, they do. It just doesn’t always come out that way. You don’t recognize it? You used to sing it at the Silver Spur.”

So he’d noticed her singing, after all. Daisy smiled, pleased and a little sad. Most of her songs had been for him, whether he knew it or not, and even though it no longer mattered, she was gratified he’d taken note.

“I liked your singing.”

“Did you? You never said.”

“It was a bad time for me,” he admitted without looking at her. “But even when I was so drunk I could hardly think or form a thought, I heard your voice. It was like the bell of a buoy sounding in the darkness, pulling me back.”

“Back from what?”

He shrugged. “My own destruction, I suppose. Hell, you probably saved my life.” Abruptly he stopped and faced her, forcing her to stop beside him. The laughter was gone from his eyes, replaced by an intensity that seemed to add substance to the still, pine-scented air.

“Marry me, Daisy.”

She felt something twist in her chest. “For saving your life?”

“For that, and Kate, and the good times we shared. And there were good times, Daisy. I remember that. And laughing. And reaching for you in the night when holding you was the only thing that kept me from giving up.”

“No.” Desperate to put distance between them, she turned away.
Why now?
After she’d worked so hard to pull herself back together, why was she letting him tear her apart again?

His hand grabbed her arm. “Why not?”

She pulled free. “I am not your savior, Jack. Besides, you’re in love with another woman, remember?” How many times did she have to remind him of that?

He didn’t deny it. She didn’t expect him to. It was too late for that anyway.

She started up the path again. They didn’t speak again until they reached a high, open plateau that overlooked the valley. It was a beautiful view, stretching from a large flat-topped formation at one end of the valley to the cluster of ranch buildings at the other. From this distance, the flooded creek looked like a shiny brown ribbon laced through the trunks of the budding trees, and the cattle dotting the grassy flats seemed no bigger than drops of dark paint on a stark green canvas.

Warm from their uphill trek, Daisy removed her shawl and spread it on a soft spot in the shade of a boulder. Then motioning for Jack to hand down Kate, she settled her daughter on the shawl and gently rubbed her back until she drifted to sleep again.

“I’ve loved Elena since I was seven years old.”

She looked up to find Jack leaning against a boulder several feet away, staring down at them with a pensive look. She didn’t respond. She didn’t want to talk about Elena. Jack owed her no explanations, and she certainly didn’t want to hear any.

But he continued, unmindful of her pain, his gaze focused inward, his voice flat and distant.

And she listened.

“She was six and her brother Sancho was using a whip on her. Brady stopped him. No one had ever stood up for her before, not even her own father, and from that moment on, Brady was her hero.” He smiled ruefully. “I wanted her to look at me like that. I wanted to be the one to save her. But Brady was there first. He always was. In everything.”

Daisy didn’t want to hear this. But she didn’t ask him to stop. She sensed Jack was revealing a part of himself he had probably never shown anyone else, and perhaps if she had the courage to listen, she might understand the hold Elena had on him.

Bending over, he picked up a pinyon cone. With his folding knife, he dug out a seed and set it on the boulder near his shoulder, then dug for another. “For years I thought there was something special between them. There was—there still is. But not in the way I thought. I didn’t realize that until Jessica came.”

Motion caught her eye, and Daisy watched a small striped ground squirrel inch across the top of the boulder toward the seed.

“At first I figured Brady was using them both,” Jack went on. “We almost came to blows over it. But he denied there had ever been anything between him and Elena, that she was like a sister.”

The squirrel grabbed the seed and skittered out of sight.

Jack put another in its place. “I didn’t believe him at first. I thought maybe Elena wouldn’t have him and he was just making excuses. Then I saw the way he looked at Jessica. It was different from the way he looked at Elena. And I thought, ‘Here’s my chance.’ I could take her to San Francisco to get her hip fixed, care for her during her operation and recovery, and be her hero at last. I could win what Brady couldn’t.”

Daisy frowned, trying to understand. Was this about Elena, or a rivalry with his brother?

Having dug out all the seeds, he tossed the pinecone away, scooped the seeds into his hand, and rested his upturned palm on the rock.

“Hank said something to me the other night. It didn’t make sense at first, like most of what Hank says, but I’ve thought about it a lot and I think I understand what he meant.”

The squirrel appeared again, saw Jack’s outstretched hand, and froze.

“He said if a man has feelings for a woman, he should know why. So I’ve been asking myself... do I want Elena because I love her? Or to prove to Brady I’m the better man?”

Daisy wondered the same thing but said nothing.

The squirrel inched forward, its tail flicking, its nose twitching. Moving in fits and starts, it skittered to Jack’s hand, grabbed a seed, then scampered out of sight. Another poor creature charmed by Jack Wilkins.

“And your answer?” she asked, trying not to hope.

He dumped the remaining seeds onto the rock then dusted his hands. His gaze met Daisy’s and in his eyes she saw doubt and confusion, and maybe sadness. “I’ve loved her since I was seven,” he said again. “But I never slept with her and I hardly ever kissed her. I’m not sure why.”

Disappointment left a bitter taste on her tongue. “And you think marrying me will provide an answer?”

For a long time Jack didn’t reply. “I think we suit, Daisy,” he finally said. “I think Kate needs us both. And I think we can make this work.”

And what of love?

Beside her, Kate began to stir. Reaching out, Daisy gently stroked her daughter’s cheek to reassure her as she awoke. Anger and resentment seeped out in a long sigh. Nothing had changed. Nothing ever would. Elena would forever be the perfect, unattainable, unrequited love, and Daisy would be ... what? Jack’s consolation prize? The woman who waved him off on his adventures and patiently waited for his return? Was she to give up her dream of singing for so little?

“I know you mean well, Jack. You always do. And I know you care for Kate. But a child is a forever thing, not something you can lavish attention on one moment then ignore the next. She needs an everyday father, and you’re not suited to that. You want to travel the world. So do it.” Picking up Kate, she rose, shook out the shawl, and threw it over her shoulder. She turned to face him so he could see the determination in her eyes. “Gamble, drink, pine over Elena, or chase after women to your heart’s content. Do what you do, Jack. We’ll be fine without you.”

“Then why are you here, Daisy?” he challenged. “If things were so fine, why did you come begging for money?”

Heat rushed into her face. “I didn’t come begging! I thought you might want to help your daughter.”

Kate whimpered, blinking sleepy eyes against the harsh words and bright sunlight. Clutching her tightly, Daisy started down the path.

Jack fell into step beside her. “I don’t want to fight with you, Daisy,” he said in a low voice so he wouldn’t alarm Kate. “And I don’t know how I feel about Elena right now. But I do know I want you and Kate in my life, so don’t expect me to let you go without a fight.”

“You’re wasting your time. I won’t marry you.”

“I can be pretty persistent.”

She whipped around to face him. “Why? Is it just the chase then?”

His eyes narrowed in confusion. “What chase?”

“Think about it, Jack.” Wrapping both arms around Kate so she wouldn’t give in to the urge to punch some sense into his hard head, Daisy asked, “Why did you want Elena? Because you thought Brady did. Why did you run off to sea? Because after you got what you wanted from me, you lost interest. And now you’re after me again. Why? Because I won’t have you. With you, the chase is everything.”

As she spoke, his face had flushed to an angry red. “You’re wrong. I’m not that kind of man.”

“Aren’t you?” She gave a brittle laugh, all the hurt she had hoarded over the last three years pressing against her throat. “If I said yes, what would you do? Run off on another adventure and leave me and Kate behind, that’s what. Face it, Jack. You’re no more the marrying kind than I’m the waiting-around kind.”

She started to turn away when he grabbed her shoulders. Pulling her toward him, he brought his mouth down on hers.

Daisy froze, hardly aware of Kate wiggling between them. Hurt died as old yearnings arose in a hot, shivery rush. Long-suppressed need flooded her body even as her mind struggled to resist.
Not again
, she thought in panic as she felt herself sinking into the magic that was Jack Wilkins.
Never again.
With a gasp, she pulled back, knowing if she didn’t stop this now, she would be lost forever.

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