The Sweet Spot (29 page)

Oh! He’d been remembering too.

She tried to divert his attention to business on the drive home, but this time it
didn’t take. Conversation trailed off. Instead of the void she feared, an almost-forgotten
comforting silence fell. They’d always had that from the beginning—an invisible bubble
had surrounded her and Jimmy, keeping them separate from others. They’d never needed
to fill the empty space with words. She sighed. Next to Benje, she missed this most
of all. Her muscles relaxed into the familiar comfort of belonging.

When they reached the town limits, Jimmy asked, “We’re all dressed up, and it’s early
yet. Would you come out to dinner with me, Charla?” His hard profile shone pale in
the dash lights.

“I’d like to, Jimmy, but Junior’s waiting for my call to bring Daddy home. He gets
worse after dark, and I don’t want to put that on Junior.”

His hand relaxed on the wheel. “But you would like to?”

Would she? The butterflies nesting in her stomach certainly had an opinion—they awoke
from their champagne stupor to careen against her rib cage. She enjoyed spending time
with Jimmy today. Maybe too much.

It wouldn’t be so easy to sidestep him anymore. She and Jimmy were full partners in
the business now. Time for the truth. As much as she knew of it, anyway. She turned
to him.

“I’m glad we’re not at war anymore, Jimmy. I’m even looking forward to being partners
in the business. But I’m not sure I’m strong enough to handle what you’re really asking
here.”

A sliver of regret slipped out with her words. Would she ever be? Where would she
find the guts to put herself again in the hands of any man? Much less this one.

“For now, can we focus on getting used to being friends again, Jimmy?” Surely if she
could get used to riding a horse and hanging with smelly cows, she could learn to
relax around a guy she’d lived with for twenty years.

She’d seen tonight how easy it would be to fall into old, comfortable places.

Was it Jimmy she was really afraid of?

Or was it herself, afraid of falling for him again?

J
B crossed his arms over the saddle horn and watched Char work cattle. She sat on the
horse as if she were a part of it. Relaxed, but alert, she urged the momma cows and
their babies to the gate. From halfway across the pasture, he recognized Tricks’s
distinctive black-and-white hide as she shot out of the pack, the splash-spotted calf
at her heels.

With a burst of speed, Char and Pork Chop overtook the pair and turned them back to
the herd, but the cow had other ideas. Tricks cut one way, the calf the other, eating
ground faster than any nursing cow he’d ever seen.

Pork Chop spun on her hindquarters and leapt into action. Char leaned over the horse’s
neck, telegraphing direction changes with subtle shifts of her weight as they tore
across the meadow. It was a valiant effort, but the lumbering cow was no match. Pork
Chop came alongside and Char neck-reined her into the cow’s side, turning her
back to the herd. Defeated, her decoy calf trotted back to his momma.

Cattle bunched once more, Char sat back in the saddle. Back straight, one hand loose
on the reins, she tipped her hat lower over her eyes and urged her horse forward.
Point made, Tricks led the herd through the gate with one last bawl and a swish of
her tail.

JB enjoyed the view of nicely formed, Wrangler-clad buns, as Char leaned down to close
the gate. She wheeled the horse toward home but pulled up when she saw him in her
path. His chest swelled, forcing him upright in his saddle.

He felt proud to have had the love of this fine woman all those years. By tonight,
he’d find out if he’d be lucky enough to have the same with the time he had left.
Fear-laced anticipation crackled under his skin. Sensing it, his horse threw its head
up. JB checked the rangy gelding as he fought the bit, dancing in place.

Char sat watching him, shoulder-length blond hair stirring with the wind. How had
he ever deluded himself that he could find another woman worth even half this one?
He should’ve known the hole in his heart couldn’t be filled by a bit of fluff.

Char nudged the small palomino to a trot. Details sharpened as she neared. She still
had the waist of a young girl, but the years had subtly transformed her face, giving
depth to the brash prettiness of her youth. Rod straight and chin high, she rode to
him, her challenging gaze daring him to comment.

He coughed. “I see that danged cow is still hard to handle. If she’s that big a hassle,
once that calf is weaned, we can sell her.”

Char fell in next to him and they turned for home. “And lose those bloodlines? Are
you crazy?”

“We can harvest her eggs and use a surrogate cow—one that stays on the right side
of the fence.”

“Nah. Tricks is okay. She’s just smarter than most cows, so she spends her time thinking
up ways to bedevil me. It’s a game we play.”

He’d planned a day of truths, so he might as well get started. “Do you realize how
much you’ve changed, Charla? I’m not talking about getting used to the horses and
cows either.” He kept his eyes trained on the horizon, as if the right words would
be written there. It was always hard for him to speak the soft stuff, and he didn’t
want her thinking this was a snow job. “Before, you sat waiting for life to happen.
Now you’re riding out to meet it.” He glanced over and read reticence in her narrowed
eyes.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, he asked the question that held his future. “Charla,
would you come with me? I have something to show you.”

“Where?” She threw her head up like a spooked horse. “I’ve got to pick Daddy up at
the feed store.”

“It isn’t far, and we won’t be gone long.” He watched emotion flash across her face,
seeing precisely when she decided to say no. “Please, Char. I know you have no reason
to trust me. You don’t owe me, but I’m asking you anyway. I’d be beholden to you.”

He held his breath, watching the war he planned to win being waged in her expression.

“All right, Jimmy.”

The air left his lungs in a
whoosh
. He still had a chance.

She sat with one arm out the window. Jimmy drove the back roads, taking the curves
wide and slow. Pulling the scent of old leaves and decaying tree bark into her lungs,
she enjoyed the blend of gold and russet in the trees overhanging the road. Autumn
had always been her favorite time of year. A time to snuggle in at home and prepare
for winter. This time last year had been winter. The haunting smell of sour sheets
and the spookiness of a blackout-curtained bedroom brushed the edges of her mind like
a barely remembered nightmare. She pushed the darkness out with her exhale and drew
the light, clean air of the present into her lungs.

Jimmy slowed, turning left at an opening in the trees, the two-wheeled track barely
discernible amid the wild oats. She jerked upright. “Oh no, Jimmy.”

His warm hand covered her fist on the seat between them. “Trust me, Little Bit, just
a while longer. I have something to show you.”

The old fire road dead-ended at the Pedernales River. They’d lost their virginity
here, back in the dark ages. She freed her hand from under his. Jimmy pulled within
a few feet of the drop-off and shut down the engine.
Right under that tree
…

Jimmy came around the truck, opened her door, and handed her down. When he closed
the door behind her, she put her fists against the truck at her back and leaned against
them. “I don’t see the point in digging through ancient history, Jimmy.”

He stood, hand out, letting her decide. After a few seconds, she shrugged and put
her hand in his. Jimmy wouldn’t take anything she didn’t offer. The manic butterflies
fought
to get out of her stomach as they walked to The Tree, as she’d known he would. Instead
of stopping, he led her to the opposite side.

“I knew that day we’d marry. That I’d never love anyone like I loved you.”

She couldn’t help it. She rolled her eyes. “Jimmy, it’s a little late for romantic
fairy tales, don’t you think?”

He frowned, scrutinizing the tree trunk. “You fell asleep. Do you remember?”

She did, barely.

“I was so riled, I couldn’t relax. The future was so clear to me.” He ran his fingers
down the tree, as if reading Braille. “Here.” He lifted her hand, pressing her fingers
against the trunk. She stepped closer, squinting at the heart-shape scar in the bark.
The carving inside was harder to discern. She ran her finger down each letter.

F – O – R – E – V – E – R

Her fingers jerked from the bark.

“I did it while you were asleep.” Jimmy’s deep voice came from close behind her, his
breath stirring her hair. “It was all so new, and happened so fast. You and I weren’t
even going steady yet. I didn’t feel I had the right to carve our initials, so I carved
this instead.”

At his touch on her shoulder, she turned.

“I know it’s corny as hell, but I liked the idea of others reading it, wondering who
it was meant for.” The half-smile that lifted the corner of his mouth looked painful.
“I never told you.” As his strong face fell, the lines in it deepened. “I never told
you so many things, Charla. The fact that I don’t have words for feelings is no excuse.
I should have—”

She couldn’t stand watching this strong man break. “Jimmy, don’t. Please.”

“Look, Char. I’m not angling for anything. We’re divorced, and you don’t owe me a
thing. But I need to talk about it. This is more for me than for you. I can’t go on
without saying this, so I’d appreciate if you could do me the favor of listening.”

She looked up. Much of the pain in those brown eyes was her doing. She owed Jimmy
at least this, even if the listening would hurt more than the telling. Her stomach
muscles tightened, preparing for a blow. She nodded.

JB spat out the words that had stuck in his craw for months. “I’m so sorry, Charla.
Sorry that my being with Jess hurt you.” He felt the muscle in his jaw flex as he
searched for words. “That’s not the end of it.

“It started years ago, when I forgot what I knew. Being a big man only mattered if
you thought so. I got caught up in the big lights. I liked people recognizing me,
the sound of my voice over the mike, the groupies. It was all about me, and I turned
my focus from what was important to what was fun.” He shook his head, as if to clear
it. “In the end, I gave away the diamonds in my life for fool’s gold. What I found
out was that a big man, alone, mostly ends up in a bar, drunk. Now I understand why.

“Charla, that day, when Benje—”

She gave a panicked shake of her head and touched a finger to his lips. The grief
bleeding from her eyes reminded him that her competent exterior cobbled over a fragile
recovery. He reached to touch her but stopped short, afraid he’d pushed too hard.
“Okay, Charla. We won’t speak of that now.” He forced his hand to his side.

“Breaking my marriage vows wasn’t the worst of it.”
He cleared his throat, to finish. “I turned and left you, knowing you needed me. There’s
no going back from that.” He thrust his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I
just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. For all of it.

“I lost more than my job the day you threw me off the ranch, Charla. I lost my way.”

Leaving his guts steaming on the ground under the tree, he spun on his heel and walked
away.

He’s leaving.
The same impotent panic as the first time roared through her. Char clutched the tree
as an anchor to hold herself upright. And to keep herself from running after him.

You can’t trust him. Not again.
She’d always thought women who took back a cheater incredibly dense; if he’d done
it once, he had a taste for it.

She watched as her fingers tightened on the tree trunk. They didn’t look familiar.
Strong, scarred, callused. Working hands. They’d saddled a horse, pulled a calf. They’d
accomplished thousands of chores she wasn’t aware of nine months ago, much less imagined
herself capable of. Dropping her arms, she stepped away from the tree.
I’m not that dependent little housewife anymore.

She wouldn’t be putting anything in a man’s hands that she didn’t decide.

Jimmy strode away, spine straight,. Even from the back, she saw his chest hitch.

Besides, the man who left me wasn’t Jimmy.
This
is Jimmy.

A strange calm radiated from her chest to fill her body, a liquid balm that cooled
her hot skin and stilled the roar in her head. Sounds came to her: the drone of a
lone cicada and the soft burble of water as it tumbled over rocks in the river’s bend.

“You didn’t leave me, Jimmy.” Her voice sounded loud in the open meadow. “I drove
you away.” Her knees supported her after all when she walked from the shade of the
tree to where he’d stopped, halfway to the truck. “I may have been under the influence,
but I remember. I screamed in your face like a crazy woman, and if that wouldn’t have
chased you away, I’d have done something worse.

“See, your leaving turned out to be the best thing, Jimmy. Grief is a strange thing.
It allowed me to stay close to the place I was when Benje was alive. It was a frigid
comfort, but that winter I took what comfort I could find. It, along with the pills,
got to be a habit, and I was sinking in an ocean of grief. I would have run out of
air and drowned but for your leaving.” She stopped a moment, to pull in air. “I hit
bottom then.” Seeing his stricken look, she hurried on. “I found out that the bottom
can be a good thing. Something solid under your feet to push off of. You leaving turned
out to be the beginning for me.”

Char stopped in front of him, stunned by the truth she hadn’t known until she spoke
it. “It sounds crazy now, but when you tried to comfort me, it felt like I was pulling
away from Benje.” A shudder ran through her so hard that her hands brushed her thighs
in a St. Vitus dance. “Like I was leaving him, all alone, in that dark place.” Jimmy
reached as if to touch but then dropped his hand.