Jackson Hole Valentine (2 page)

“They’re ginormous.” Charlie whirled around, his eyes wide with awe.

“Super big,” Margaret agreed then sighed when he turned back to the aquarium. She’d once hoped to have a husband to love and a child just like Charlie to cherish. But she was already in her early thirties and that dream was looking less likely with each passing year.

As a physical therapist who dealt primarily with stroke patients, Margaret didn’t have much opportunity to meet eligible men at work. And she’d never been one for the bar scene. To complicate matters, most of her friends were married. Of course, she reminded herself, if she’d been willing to exchange vows with a man she liked and respected but wasn’t madly in love with, she’d be married, too.

But last year, after much soul-searching, she broke it off with her fiancé. She hadn’t regretted her decision. Okay, maybe a couple of times on dark, lonely nights when she remembered how good he’d been to her and feared she’d simply been expecting too much. After all, they’d gotten along well and had fun when they were together. Did “madly in love”
really
have to be part of the equation?

She’d wondered.

Then she’d run into him and his new girlfriend a couple of weeks ago. The way they looked at each other told her she’d been right to call off the wedding. Not only for her sake but for his. Everyone deserved to be loved with such passion.

“Me an’ my dad used to go fishing,” Charlie said, gazing at the tank. “Mommy would sometimes come, too. But Daddy had to put the worm on the hook for her.”

“That was nice of him.” Lexi said. “You had a nice daddy.”

Having Lexi overseeing Charlie’s case felt almost like having a family member involved. When the attractive social worker with the sleek brown bob had introduced herself, she’d mentioned she was a good friend of Margaret’s older brother, Travis, a local ob-gyn.

Margaret knew Travis and his wife, Mary Karen, had a group of close-knit friends. Like Lexi, all were married with children. Margaret sighed. Sometimes it felt as if everyone had the life she wanted…except her.

“Have you seen the will?” Lexi asked in a low tone, leaning over the arm of her chair.

Margaret shook her head. “But I have a good idea what’s in it.”

At the funeral, when Ryan asked her to come to his office for the reading, she hadn’t been surprised by the request. Last year, when one of their high school classmates had died of cancer, Joy had broached the subject of Margaret raising Charlie if anything should happen to her and Ty. She’d been flattered but wondered why Joy wouldn’t want her child raised by family.

Joy had informed her she’d already approached her parents. Apparently they’d stammered and offered a whole litany of excuses—they’d retired to Florida because of Larry’s health, the gated community they’d just settled into didn’t allow children, it would be best for Charlie to remain in familiar surroundings....

Margaret’s heart had ached for her friend. All these years Joy had been right. She’d always insisted that her parents really had only one child—her brother—and that she wasn’t that important to them.

Ty’s own family situation wasn’t much better. He’d been estranged from them for years. They’d sent a small plant for the memorial service.

“Charlie, honey, don’t press so hard against the glass,” Lexi called out to the boy but made no move to get up.

With an older child and a busy toddler at home, this was probably the only chance the social worker had to rest. Margaret stifled a smile and rose to her feet. She crossed the room, her heels clicking loudly on the hardwood. Normally she favored more comfortable clothing than the silver-blue suit and certainly more sensible footwear than high heels. But this had seemed an appropriate day to forgo comfort for something more stylish and businesslike.

She crouched down beside the boy, who had his nose pressed against the aquarium glass. “Which one do you like best?”

“The yellow one.” Charlie pointed to a large silver angelfish with a blanket of gold over the head and back.

“It’s very pretty.” Margaret resisted the urge to brush the tousle of chocolate-brown hair back from his face. “Do you remember me, Charlie? I’m Margaret. I was a friend of your mom.”

The boy turned to face her, his eyes a deep, dark blue. “Pastor says my mommy and daddy are with Jesus in heaven.”

Margaret took a deep breath and blinked back tears. The sermon at the funeral had been comforting, but it was still hard to accept that it had been her childhood friend lying in one of the two caskets at the front of the church. Heartbreaking to realize she and Joy would never laugh over the phone or Tweet pithy one-liners to each other.

Still, she believed the pastor when he’d said Joy and Ty were in a better place. Her friend had such a quirky sense of humor that Margaret had no doubt that at this very moment she was livening up the heavenly throng with Ty cheering her on.

“Do you think they’re coming back for me?” he asked in a small voice.

“I’m afraid not,” Margaret said softly. She cursed her honesty when his eyes filled with tears and his bottom lip began to tremble. “But I know they’re still watching over you. And that they love you very much.”

“I want my mommy.” The boy’s arms stiffened at his sides and his hands clenched into tiny fists. “Bring her here. Now.”

Her heart rose to her throat.
If only I could bring her back. And Ty, too.

Like a whirlwind sweeping across the plains, as quickly as Charlie’s anger flared, it disappeared and he began to cry.

Margaret wrapped her arms around him, murmuring soothing words and holding him tight. After several heartbeats he quit struggling. After several more she felt him relax in her arms.

From her own experience, she knew a little about what he’d be going through in the weeks and months ahead. She vowed to make this transition as easy as possible for him.

With his soft curls still pressed against her cheek, Margaret heard the attorney’s office door open. But she couldn’t move a muscle. The child had his arms around her, holding her as tight as a drowning sailor would grasp a life preserver.

“Margaret.” Ryan moved to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Lexi will take good care of him while we talk.”

“Charlie, I have something really cool to show you.” The social worker peeled the boy from Margaret’s arms. “The office down the hall has some gigantic fish.”

“Bigger than those?” Charlie pointed to the aquarium, his tears like little crystals on his long lashes.

“Oh, my goodness, yes. Way bigger.” Lexi held out her hand. “Come with me and we’ll go see them.”

The little boy hesitated, glancing at Margaret.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Margaret assured him. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

After a long moment, Charlie put his fingers in the social worker’s hand. “I wanna see the fishes.”

Lexi smiled at Margaret and gave the attorney a wink. “We won’t be long.”

Margaret watched them leave. Her heart warmed when Charlie returned her wave.

“I’m glad you could make it.” Ryan gestured toward his office then stepped aside to let her pass. “We’re waiting for one more but there’s some preliminary stuff we can get started on.”

Margaret smiled, finding it strangely refreshing to hear an attorney use the word
stuff.
She took a seat in front of his desk, wondering who it was Ryan was expecting. It hadn’t crossed her mind that anyone else would show up for the reading. “Did Joy’s parents change their minds and decide to stay in town a little while longer?”

“Nothing like that.” The attorney took a seat in the cowhide-and-leather swivel desk chair and offered her an easy smile.

Despite being thrown to the ground and stomped on by bulls weighing close to two thousand pounds, Ryan looked no worse for wear. His face was unscarred and his hair as dark and thick as it had been in school. He was a cute guy but Ryan had never made her heart skip a beat.

Back then, people who didn’t know him well had always confused him with Cole. Both had dark hair and slender, athletic builds. But Ryan’s eyes were a silvery-gray while Cole’s eyes were as blue as the ocean.

In her young, stupid days, Margaret had been convinced she could drown in Cole’s eyes. She resisted the urge to gag.

Ryan shifted in his seat and glanced at his watch. Tiny lines furrowed his brow.

If Margaret didn’t know better, she’d say he was worried. But that didn’t make sense. What did he have to be concerned about? Unless he thought she was having second thoughts about raising Charlie. Could he be afraid she was going to bail on the boy?

Margaret leaned forward and rested both hands on the edge of the desk. “Joy and I talked last year about her and Ty’s wishes, should anything happen to them. I’m fully aware that she wanted me to—”

The outer office door jingled.

Ryan’s head jerked toward the sound.

Margaret paused and sat back.

Before she could say another word, Ryan leaped from his seat and rounded the desk. “I’ll get it.”

But he didn’t have time to reach the door before it swung open. Turning in her seat to gawk at the new arrival seemed a little gauche, so Margaret waited for the visitor to stroll into view.

“It’s good to see you,” Ryan said.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”

Margaret froze. The man’s voice sounded all too familiar. She shivered as the sexy voice continued. “DFW got snowed in and all the flights backed up.”

She didn’t need to turn in her chair to know who Ryan had so warmly welcomed. Even after all these years, she recognized his voice. It was the same sexy rumble that had whispered sweet nothings in her ear when she’d been sixteen. The same husky voice that had shook with emotion when he’d pronounced her his sweetheart and given her a silver heart-shaped locket for Valentine’s Day. The same voice that she hadn’t heard again after they’d made love in the backseat of his old Chevy.

She dug her nails into her palms.

“You’re lucky you didn’t make it in yesterday morning. We had a jet go off the runway,” Ryan rattled on. “Typical November weather.”

“Anyone who grew up in this region should know better than to fly in the day of any event, especially at this time of year.” Margaret turned in her seat, unable to sit still a moment longer. “Unless it was your intent all along to miss the funeral.”

She had only a second to brace herself before Cole fixed his brilliant blue eyes on her, and to be startled at the sight of him on crutches.

“You remember Margaret Fisher.” Ryan gestured to her with a broad sweep of a hand. “She went to high school with us.”

It didn’t surprise Margaret that Ryan would feel the need to clarify. After all, it wasn’t as if they’d run in the same social circle back then. Ryan and Cole had been popular, while she’d been studious, shy and completely forgettable. A part of her had wondered if he’d ever mentioned his involvement with her to his friends. Apparently not.

Cole’s expression gave nothing away. “Of course, I remember Meg.”

“Meg?” Ryan lifted a brow. “I don’t know that I’ve ever heard anyone call her that before.”

That’s because no one else ever had, only Cole.

“I meant, Margaret,” Cole returned easily.

Ryan’s eyes held a curious gleam and Margaret got the feeling he knew there was more to the story than a simple verbal faux pas.

“You’re looking well,” Cole said to her when the silence lengthened.

Other than the crutches and the brace on his right knee, she supposed she could say the same about him. His hair was a little longer now, brushing his collar in a stylish cut. The hand-tailored dark suit he wore emphasized broad shoulders and lean hips. Surprisingly, he’d foregone a tie and left his gray shirt unbuttoned at the neck.

While she grudgingly admitted that he looked…attractive…she had no use for him or for the words that came so easy to his tongue. Margaret lifted her chin. “Your friend appears to be too much of a gentleman to tell you—but this is a private business meeting.”

She could have cheered when her tone came out cool with just the slightest amount of indifference.

Cole’s brows pulled together and he shot Ryan a puzzled glance. “You told me this was the time you’d set aside to go over Ty and Joy’s will.”

Margaret narrowed her gaze and focused on Cole. “You must really be doing badly if you came all this way just to see if they left you anything.”

For a second she regretted speaking so frankly. Being brash wasn’t her style. Then she recalled how Cole had treated her and she decided she was being too kind.

“I’m doing quite well, not that it’s any of your concern.” Cole’s expression darkened. He turned to Ryan. “What the hell is going on here?”

A look of guilt crossed the attorney’s face and the gaze he shot her was filled with apology.

Margaret had always been intuitive. The unique gift that had failed her only once before was now telling her that something was about to go wrong. Dreadfully wrong.

“Ryan?” Margaret choked out the attorney’s name, finding breathing suddenly difficult.

“Neither of you have the complete picture, not yet.” Ryan gestured for Cole to take a seat then exhaled a harsh breath. “That’s the way Ty and Joy wanted it.”