Authors: Shirley Hailstock
Adam ate and drank without commenting. Rosa had the feeling he wanted to say something, but didn’t.
“What about you?” she asked. “Are you an only child?”
“I like the way you put that,” he said. “Only children are usually self-centered and spoiled.”
She let the comment hang in the air. From what she’d seen he had all the earmarks of exactly that.
“I used to wish I had brothers and sisters, but I don’t.” He paused. “And I don’t think I’m spoiled or self-centered.” His eyes came up and bored directly into hers. “You, on the other hand, have to be the baby of the family.”
“Why would you say that?” Obviously he’d assessed her as she had done him. He hid it better than most men.
“There’s a certain amount of spoiling in you, too.”
“Not with my brothers around.” Rosa shook her head. “They made me work for everything.”
“You mention your family a lot.”
She became conscious of the smile on her face and the memory of growing up with a houseful of people. “I do,” she said. “They’re the best family in the world. There’s always someone to argue with, someone to laugh or cry with, someone to tell your stories to.”
Adam dropped his head a moment. Then he sighed.
“I’d opt for a large family. They’re so much fun in the long run,” Rosa continued.
“There’s nothing I can do about that. If my parents had had more children, maybe the siblings would be here to help out with my father.”
“You mentioned him before. He didn’t look ill. I pictured a bent-over man leaning on a cane.”
“He has a heart condition and he won’t take care of himself. He insists on riding every day and I have to make sure he takes his medicine regularly.”
She looked down with a tiny smile, remembering the older version of Adam Osborne and the rose he’d presented her with during the party at Vida’s. She hadn’t seen him since. And suddenly she missed the older man.
“Why are you smiling like that?” Adam asked.
“Are you sure he’s not doing it on purpose?”
“What do you mean?”
“My older sister is a child psychologist and she says it’s not unusual for children to act helpless just to get attention.”
“My father’s not a child.”
“You’re taking care of him. You have to get home to make sure he takes his medication. I bet you check to see if he’s eaten, too. And if he’s in bed at night.” She stopped and checked his expression. He gave her a quick nod. “So, who’s the parent and who’s the child?”
He didn’t answer. Rosa knew he wasn’t ready to concede that his father was running his life, and she wouldn’t push it.
“I thought your sister was the psychologist.”
“She is. I used to date a psychologist. I guess some of both of them rubbed off on me. Disregard everything I said.”
Adam checked his watch and stood up. His face showed that he’d spent more time with her than he expected to. “I’m sorry I have to cut this short,” he said. “I have several errands I need to run.”
Rosa knew he was going to check on his father. She stood, too, and cleared the food from the table, taking it into the house. When she turned, Adam was behind her holding his plate and glass.
“Thank you,” she said, accepting the dishes. For a moment their hands touched. Rosa moved hers away quickly. She placed the dishes in the sink, knowing that her hands had suddenly lost the ability to perform simple tasks. Yet it appeared that every nerve ending in her fingers was on fire.
“When I left town I didn’t expect food,” Adam said as Rosa walked him to the door.
“Next time, maybe I’ll make you a real meal.”
“Next time?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Yeah,” she said. “As soon as you get over your dislike of me.”
The natural progression from being a model to life after the runway was either to open an agency or become a photographer. Rosa opted for the camera. She loved taking pictures and had quite a portfolio. Looking through the lens and selecting exactly which slice of life she wanted to preserve gave her power.
Montana was perfect for the camera. Like the sky the state was so famous for, the land went on forever, too. Rosa sat astride a horse. The groom at the stable had called the filly Leah. Rosa hadn’t been on a horse in a while and tomorrow she would pay for the exercise today. Lifting the camera that hung around her neck, she scanned the land before her. The mountains in the distance were spectacular. They were farther away than they looked and she used a telephoto lens to pan their height.
Sliding off the horse, she tethered it to her belt using a slipknot in case something spooked it and she took off. At least she wouldn’t take Rosa with her. It was a technique her brother Digger had taught her one rainy afternoon. She didn’t think she’d have a use for it. She just liked the way the knot would come apart by pulling either end.
Raising the camera, she focused and took a shot. Moving about, she continued taking picture after picture. It was early morning, before breakfast. The daylight changed by the minute. Like the Grand Canyon’s changing of color throughout the day, the morning light here provided a panorama of color just as spectacular. And what she could do with it on her computer screen might not be art, but it was pleasing to her eye.
Rosa took a shot and stopped. She heard something. It was a horse. The cadence was rhythmic and coming toward her. Squinting in the morning light, she tried to see who was approaching. For a moment she thought it was Adam. Then she recognized Bailey Osborne. The tiny flip of her heart somersaulted to her stomach. Had she hoped it was Adam? And then become disappointed to find it was someone else?
Bailey pulled up in front of her and dismounted with the agility of a man half his age.
“You’re a morning person,” he stated.
“After a lifetime of having to be at some place before the day woke up, I suppose sleeping late is something my body hasn’t learned to do.”
“That’s great. I love seeing the sunrise.” He looked toward the horizon. “It’s the best part of the day. Clears your mind and gets you ready to do what’s gotta be done. And”—he paused—“it’s one of the few times I get away from Adam.”
“He’s very worried about you,” Rosa told him.
“I know. He thinks I’m going to die on him.” He tapped on his chest. “Bad ticker. I suppose everyone has to die someday, but I’m planning on beating the clock for a lot more years.” He smiled at her, giving her a grin that was so like his son’s.
“So, are you playing games with Adam?”
“Games?” He frowned.
“Not taking your medicine. Riding alone. Things like that.”
“I’m not an invalid. And I do take my medicine. I just kinda wait for him to show up to do it. It gives us time to talk.”
“I see,” Rosa said. It was time he wanted with Adam. She raised her camera and looked for a good shot.
“You’re a model and a photographer?” he questioned.
Rosa faced him, still looking through the viewfinder. “Not really,” she said, snapping a picture. “There’s a lot of time between takes when you’re on assignment. I picked up a camera one day and starting taking snapshots to show my family. I enjoyed it enough to keep doing it. Now I’m rarely without a camera.”
Lifting the instrument again, she took a shot of Bailey.
“There’s not much to see around here. You should go to some of the parks. Maybe you can get Adam to take you. He used to be a summer guide before he went off to college.”
“Maybe I will,” Rosa said, knowing she had no intention of asking Adam anything. He’d shown his dislike for her and Rosa didn’t want to be in anyone’s company if they didn’t want her around. “There’s a lot around here, though,” she said. “It might be commonplace to you, but it’s all new and gorgeous to me.”
She panned the area with her camera, then lowered it and looked directly at Bailey.
“Have you always lived here?”
“Every one of my sixty-nine years.” He said it with pride. “I spent time in the Army. Vietnam. Traveled some when my wife was alive. But the bulk of my time has been right here.” He pointed toward the ground.
“You love it here.”
“Like Texans love Texas,” he agreed with a smile. “And if you stay here long enough, you’ll love it, too.”
“I already do,” Rosa said. “I have an apartment in New York and I grew up in Dallas, but I love small towns much better. Waymon Valley is small and big at the same time.”
“I know what you mean,” he said. “In town, where Vida lives, everything is practically within walking distance. Yet out here there seems to be so much room. My great-grandmother came out here in the 1890s. She was a teacher named Clara Winslow Evans. Clara moved from Virginia to Montana to teach school and help my great-great-aunt Emily Hale run a boardinghouse for the miners. Copper mining was big back then. Since then our family has always lived here. I’ve got more cousins and aunts and grand-aunts here than any family in Georgia.”
Rosa laughed as his voice displayed both consternation and pride when he spoke of his heritage. She thought of her own family, her siblings, and how their heritage would begin with them. “That must be wonderful,” she said. Rosa had no cousins or aunts or uncles. No grandparents. Only her brothers and sisters and the promise of nieces and nephews.
“It’s great country,” Rosa finally said. “I think I’ll ride over there.” She pointed toward a distant outcropping of rocks. “And take some more photos.”
Bailey stopped her as she pulled the reins from her belt. “Not today,” he said. “And not alone. There are some dangers to this country, too. Why don’t we ride back to the stables and I’ll get you breakfast?”
Rosa smiled. “I’d like that.” Her stomach growled as if on cue. “It must be the air out here. I’m suddenly very hungry.”
Rosa was surprised half an hour later when they turned in the horses and Bailey stopped his pickup at the ranch house instead of a restaurant.
Her heart began to pound as she knew Adam was on the other side of that front door.
“I thought we were going into town,” she said.
Bailey got out and came around to open her door. “Got the best food in the county right here,” he said.
She slid out of her seat. “It’s just that I have an appointment in town and thought I’d get a ride.”
They were on their way to the door. “I’ll have Adam drive you after we eat,” he said.
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll give Vida a call. I haven’t seen her in a couple of days. We can get together.”
“Nonsense,” he boomed. “Adam’s going to town anyway.”
“What’s that?” Adam spoke, and Rosa’s entire body tensed at the sound.
“Rosa needs a ride into town right after we eat,” Bailey explained.
Adam was freshly showered. Water still glistened on his hair. His face was clean shaven and he wore jeans and a polo shirt.
“Come on,” Bailey said. “I can smell the coffee.”
The kitchen was huge, a country kitchen with a wide table in the center and huge windows opening one wall. Several individual sections had jars with peppers or colorful foods suspended in oil or flowers in them. They made art out of the windows.
“This is Medea,” Bailey introduced. “She rules the kitchen.”
“And the house,” Medea corrected.
“Medea, meet Rosa Clayton. I’ve invited her for the best breakfast in town.”
“Good morning,” Medea said. She was in her early forties, with a few strands of gray in otherwise jet-black hair that touched her shoulders. Only slightly overweight, she had a round face with a welcoming smile and dark eyes.
Rosa took a seat at the table and Bailey handed her a cup of strong black coffee. She added cream and chose a sugar substitute from a jar on the wide table.
“You’re here for the summer,” Medea stated. “Staying in Mr. Adam’s house.”
Rosa nearly dropped the cup she’d begun to lift to her mouth. “Adam’s house?”
“It was empty. I haven’t been there in a while,” he said. “Liam suggested I rent it out.” He spoke in a staccato burst.
“Liam never told me who the owner was. Just that it was for rent.” And she never thought to ask, Rosa admonished herself. It was Adam’s house. Adam’s furnishings. Adam’s
bed
.
“Adam was lucky.” Bailey interrupted her thoughts. “He’d only put it up for rent a few days before you took the place.”
Adam was her landlord.
Adam shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “What do you have to go into town for?” He changed the subject, but it was still on Rosa’s mind. Why hadn’t he told her when he was there? Memories seemed to replay in her mind now, like how he seemed to move through the rooms with a casual intimacy. He didn’t ask where anything was. He’d gone straight to the space in her loft where she wanted the computer. When he washed his hands, he didn’t ask where the bathroom was. He knew.
“Rosa?”
Startled, she looked up. She had her hands around the coffee cup and was apparently staring into space.
“Town?” he prompted. “You need to go into town.”
“I’ve reserved a car. I need one to get around if I’m going to be here all summer.” She’d made herself comfortable in the house and liked the surroundings, the scenery, and the proximity to the stables. The wide-open spaces were just that. Things were much farther away than they looked. If she was going to spend a considerable amount of time here, she needed transportation.