Once a Wife by Patricia Keelyn

CHAPTER FIVE

By the time Sarah came downstairs, the other members of the household were already seated at the circular oak table at one end of the kitchen. Reece sat between Drew and Elizabeth, with Millie on the outside where she had easy access to the stove and refrigerator. Sarah hesitated in the doorway, knowing she wasn’t exactly welcome. She considered turning around and heading back upstairs. She didn’t have much of an appetite, anyway.

Spotting her in the doorway, Millie took that option away. “Don’t just stand there, Sarah. Come on in and sit down.”

Sarah entered the room, smiling tightly. “Where would you like me to sit?”

“Right here will be fine,” Millie answered, motioning toward the empty seat beside her.

“Drew,” Reece said, once Sarah had sat down, “you remember Miss Hanson from yesterday, don’t you?”

Drew kept his eyes focused on his plate. “Yes, sir.”

“And, Mother, you remember Sarah?”

“We talked this afternoon, Reece.” Elizabeth smiled at her son, but Sarah could see it wasn’t a particularly pleasant expression.

Millie passed Sarah a serving platter filled with fried chicken.

“This looks wonderful,” she said, grateful for something harmless to comment on. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had home-cooked fried chicken.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth said. “Don’t you cook?”

“Not like this.” Sarah plastered a smile on her face. “That’s how it is with us working women. By the time I get home in the evening, I seldom have time or energy to make an elaborate dinner.”

“That’s too bad, dear.” Elizabeth managed to look sincerely concerned, but then brightened. “This should be a treat for you then. Staying at the Crooked C, that is. Millie’s an excellent cook.”

“Yes,” Sarah said. “I’m sure she is.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Still, Sarah felt the tension, thick enough to almost touch. She wondered how she was going to make it through six weeks of this, and hoped it would be better after Elizabeth left.

Reece made an obvious effort to relieve the strained atmosphere. “How did it go with Tod today, Drew?” he asked.

He got the patented twelve-year-old shrug. “Okay.”

“I saw you with the mare when I drove in,” Sarah said, trying to pull the boy out of himself. She glanced quickly at Reece and then back at Drew. “You handled her very well.”

Drew nodded but didn’t look up. He obviously wasn’t any more thrilled about her being there than Elizabeth was.

“My grandmother’s people would say you have the gift.”

Drew looked at her then, curiosity in his eyes. “Yeah? Are they Indians?”

“Yes. Shoshone. And they value those with the gift to communicate with animals.”

This time, he smiled, and Sarah lost her heart. He had a beautiful smile, so like his father’s. Or at least, the way she remembered Reece’s smile.

“Then you’re Shoshone, too,” Drew said.

“Only half,” she answered. “My father was white.” Things would be okay between her and Drew, Sarah thought. Especially once they were alone, away from his father and grandmother.

“My son tells me you teach high school now,” Elizabeth said, jumping into the conversation.

Sarah turned back to Elizabeth. “Yes. I teach in Oaksburg.”

“Why, isn’t that just wonderful. How in the world did you manage? To get your degree, that is?”

“Mother.” Reece’s voice held a definite warning.

She waved his warning away with a flick of her hand. “Don’t be ridiculous, Reece. Sarah knows I didn’t mean anything by that. It’s just that when we knew her before … Excuse me, Sarah, for being a bit indelicate, but you were a little strapped for money.” Elizabeth looked the picture of innocence. Sarah wondered how she managed it while sticking a knife in someone. It must be something you got better at with practice. “I’m just surprised you were able to get a college degree, that’s all.”

Sarah met her gaze. “It was tight, but with my grandmother’s help, I managed.”

“Well, that’s wonderful. I do admire initiative.”

I bet you do. But Sarah kept her thoughts to herself. She’d never quite mastered the art of subtly telling someone off. Either she said exactly what she meant, or she kept her mouth shut. In this case, with Drew at the table, she thought it best to do the latter.

“Are you married, Ms. Hanson?” Drew asked.

The question startled her, and Sarah glanced at Reece. He, too, looked a bit shaken. She turned back to Drew and tried to smile. “Not anymore,” she said. “I was once. A long time ago.”

“What happened? Did he die or something?” Again, the insatiable curiosity of youth.

“Drew,” Reece said, “you’re being too personal. It’s rude. Apologize.”

Drew looked contrite. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Sarah said to Reece. Then she smiled softly at her son. “No, Drew. He didn’t die.” Again, she glanced quickly at Reece and caught his mother’s frown out of the corner of her eye. “We were very young. And it just didn’t work out.”

“Do you have any kids?”

“Really, Drew!”

“It’s okay, Mrs. Colby. I don’t mind.” When in fact, she did mind. Even though she’d known that sooner or later this question would come up. That someone would ask if she had any children. She’d decided she couldn’t lie. To deny Lyssa’s existence would be to deny a piece of herself and create more suspicion if she was ever found out.

“Yes,” Sarah said. “I have a daughter. Lyssa.” This time it was Reece’s gaze that found hers. Only she couldn’t make out the look in his eye. Did he know? Did he even suspect? Oh, God, she thought, he can read my mind. He can see the truth.

No!

She fought down the panic. There was no way he could know that Lyssa was his.

“Where is she?” Drew asked.

Sarah gratefully shifted her focus back to her son. Still, she felt Reece’s eyes boring into her. But she refused to look at him or give in to the fear threatening her. “With my grandmother on the Wind River Reservation.”

“Does she see her dad?”

Sarah shook her head. “No. She doesn’t.”

“Then she’s kind of like me. She doesn’t have a dad. And I don’t have a mom.”

Reece skirted the bunkhouse and headed toward the barn to check on the stock. Technically, it wasn’t his job anymore. Tod always made sure the animals were taken care of. But tonight, Reece needed the familiar routine. He missed the smell of hay and horses, the few moments spent with each animal, the doling out of apple pieces. He craved the solitude and the sounds of the horses settling in for the night. It seemed like he became less the rancher and more the politician every day. And he didn’t like it.

Now, all these problems with Drew. And Sarah. Dinner had been a disaster. To give her credit, Sarah had remained pleasant even during Elizabeth’s verbal attacks. Then all of Drew’s questions about husbands and children. Where that had come from, Reece hadn’t a clue.

Then there was the one thing that poked at him like a burr under the saddle. Sarah had another child. A daughter. Who had fathered her, for God’s sake? Was it the man Sarah had left him for? Had she run off on him like she had Reece? The whole thing made him want to drive his fist into the nearest wall. Then he realized what was happening. Sarah was getting to him. She’d been back less than twenty-four hours, and here he was ready to pound some man he’d never even met.

Forget it, he told himself forcefully. Forget his ex-wife. Forget her daughter. It was ancient history. What Sarah had done after she’d left him was none of his concern. He had more immediate problems to deal with. And tonight, he’d sat there in the house that had been his father’s and grandfather’s before him and wondered what the hell had gone wrong.

No wonder he sought the company of horses.

As he approached the barn, he noticed the Appaloosa was still out in the corral, so he headed that way. When he got closer, he realized he wasn’t alone. Sarah stood on the bottom rail of the fence, her arm extended over the top, trying to coax the big horse over to her.

The Appaloosa hesitated, shaking his head and shying away. She persisted in a soft singsong voice, offering him a bit of apple in her outstretched hand. Finally, curiosity getting the best of him, the stallion approached her cautiously.

“You always did have a way with horses,” Reece said quietly, so as not to startle either her or the animal.

Sarah reached up and stroked the Appaloosa’s sleek neck. “He’s a beauty.”

“But temperamental.” Reece closed the distance between them and settled one foot on the bottom rail of the fence.

“The best ones always are.”

He caught the flash of her smile in the moonlight, and it reminded him of other, happier times. “Yeah, I remember that little mare of yours,” he said. “What did you call her?”

“Whiplash. Whip, for short.”

“Yeah, Whip.” Reece grinned and shoved his hat to the back of his head. “You were the only one who could get near her.”

Sarah laughed softly, and the sound trickled down his spine, stirring old memories. “Whip was a bit unpredictable, but worth the trouble. She was a born barrel racer.” Sarah swiveled on the fence to look at him, and he caught the full impact of her smile. “Besides, I seem to remember a certain young bronc rider who liked them wild.”

Reece winced at the memory. “A very young cowboy …”

“But very stubborn,” she teased.

“And look where it got him. On his ass in the dust mostly.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He thought he could see the amusement in her eyes. Or maybe it, too, was just a memory. “I seem to remember him making it to the whistle a few times.”

“Maybe once or twice.”

“And I seem to remember a silver buckle.”

“Yeah, he gave it to some buckle chaser.”

She laughed fully for the first time, and something akin to longing tightened in Reece’s chest. How many years had it been since he’d heard her laugh, that deep wonderful sound that had once stolen his heart?

“Those were good times,” he said before he could stop himself.

Sarah’s smile faded and she stood there unmoving for a moment. Then she turned back to the Appaloosa, offering him another piece of the apple she’d produced from one of her pockets.

He couldn’t let it go.

“Sarah,” he said. “We did have some good times together.”

After several moments of silence, she said, “Yes. There were many good times.”

He let out the breath he hadn’t known he’d held. He hadn’t been crazy. Then or now. They’d been good together. If even for a very brief time. And, as he often had over the past eleven years, he wondered just where and when they’d gone wrong.

“Too bad,” he said before he realized he’d spoken his thoughts aloud. Sarah glanced back at him, and he hesitated before probing at something that had always bothered him. Something they’d never had a chance to talk over. “It’s too bad you had to sell Whip. She would’ve taken you to the finals that year.” Unlike Reece, who’d competed at the weekend rodeos strictly for fun, Sarah’d had an agenda. Maybe if things had been different …

After a moment of silence, she nodded. “That was my plan.”

Her goal had been the year-end finals and enough money to pay her first year of tuition at the University of Wyoming. She’d been good enough. And so had the horse. Then she’d met him. And the next thing they knew, she’d been pregnant with Drew.

“I don’t regret selling Whip,” she said at last. “It’s true she was a great horse, but …”

“But?”

“She was just a horse. She wasn’t …” She let her voice trail off and turned back to the Appaloosa.

“She wasn’t what, Sarah?”

She didn’t answer, but let his question linger in the darkness between them. He couldn’t have said why he suddenly, desperately, wanted to hear what she hadn’t said yet. “Sarah,” he prodded.

“Whip, the year-end finals, even college. None of it was as important as the baby. Our baby.” She turned back to face him. “I never regretted Drew.”

For just a moment, he believed her. She was the girl he’d known and loved, the woman he’d wanted her to become. Now here they were together, sharing memories and the warm summer night. She was within reach, her long dark hair catching fragments of moonlight, her eyes shining with emotions that found their way to his heart. One step and she’d be in his arms. He’d pull her from the fence and hold her lithe slender body close to his. And never let go. She had loved him and their son, and had never walked out on either of them.

Then reality returned full force, making him wish he’d never pushed her for an answer. He took an involuntary step backward, distancing himself from his momentary aberration. The woman standing on the fence in front of him wasn’t his wife, and she’d never really cared for either him or Drew. Otherwise, how could she have left?

No. He wouldn’t walk down that road again.

He’d trusted her once, and she’d torn out his heart and thrown it to the wolves. Now, here she was eleven years later, telling him how much she’d wanted her—their—baby. Her regret was just too convenient.

Sarah watched the play of emotions on Reece’s face, and in the end she saw him once again harden against her. For a few minutes, it had been like old times. They’d talked and laughed together, without throwing hurtful accusations at each other. But it had passed quickly. He thought this was another ruse. Another means for her to gain his sympathy.

She could hardly blame him. She’d given him every reason not to trust her.

Without warning, he changed the subject. “Have you had a chance to look over Drew’s work?”

She gave the Appaloosa one final pat and climbed down from the fence. Then wished she hadn’t. She’d forgotten about Reece’s height, how he towered over her. Taking a step away from him, she answered his question. “We spent about an hour together after dinner.”

“And?” He, too, took a step back, further distancing himself from her. She tried not to let it bother her. But it did.

“Drew is going to continue working with Tod in the mornings and then spend the afternoons on his schoolwork.” She shrugged. “We’ll just have to see how it goes.”

“What about getting him into seventh grade in the fall?”

“I talked to his summer-school teacher, Miss Adams, before I came out here today. She’s willing to give him a test the first week of August.” She rubbed her arms. The air had turned chilly. “But I can’t promise anything. He’s behind. Probably more from lack of interest than ability. And he’s not crazy about having a tutor.”

Reece frowned, his frustration obvious. “I know. But if he gives you any trouble—”

“Reece, please.” She reached out and laid her hand on his arm. “Let me handle it.” He glanced down at her hand, and she quickly pulled it away. “Please,” she repeated. And then, trying to lighten the mood, she added, “I deal with unruly teenagers all year long. I think I can handle one slightly disgruntled twelve-year-old.”

Reece didn’t answer immediately, and for a moment his expression gentled. Then the softness disappeared. “Okay,” he said curtly. “We’ll do it your way.”

“Thanks.” Giving him a tight smile, she turned toward the house. “Well, I think I’ll head on up to bed now. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

Reece nodded and touched the tip of his hat. “ ’Night, then.”

“Good night.”

Sarah started to walk away but stopped when he said, “Sarah, wait.” She looked back and saw he’d shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “About the way Elizabeth acted tonight—”

“It’s okay, Reece,” she said, cutting him off. “She has her reasons.”

“No, it’s not okay.” He moved toward her, and again, she was uncomfortably aware of his size. She suppressed the urge to back away. “But she’s leaving tomorrow for Boston. It should be easier on you here with her gone.”

Sarah bit her bottom lip and nodded, oddly touched. “Thank you.”

“One other thing.” He hesitated for several moments before saying, “I’m sorry about last night. About the things I said.”

Caught off guard, she didn’t know what to say. It was one thing for Reece to apologize for his mother. Quite another for him to apologize for his own actions.

“Despite everything that happened between us,” he continued, “I didn’t ask you here to hurt you. Drew needs help, and I …” He yanked off his hat and ran a hand through his thick blond hair before repositioning it on his head. “It’s just that … to tell Drew the truth now, about you, well, it might do more harm than good. I just wish … Well, anyway, I’m sorry.”

Sarah stood, unable to move or speak. The silence stretched out between them. It occurred to her that there might be a chance for them, a slim possibility that they could at least be friends. After all, they had a son who needed them both.

Just before she turned and hurried toward the house, she almost told him that a certain buckle chaser still had that young cowboy’s silver buckle.

Later, in the silence of her dark room, Sarah was glad she’d suppressed the urge to tell Reece about the buckle. He wouldn’t have believed her, and she’d already opened herself to enough pain and humiliation.

She’d gone outside after that hour with Drew to get some fresh air and relief from the tension in the house. It had been a long time since she’d been surrounded by so much hostility. She might have thought she’d found Drew’s problem, except that she knew that the friction was largely due to her presence. Neither Elizabeth nor Drew wanted Sarah here. And Lord knew, Reece didn’t want her around either. She’d begun to wonder why she just didn’t get into her car and head home. To Lyssa and her grandmother.

Outside, Sarah had managed to get hold of herself again, to remember why she was here. The peace and solitude in the falling dusk had worked wonders to restore her reason. She wasn’t going to run away from this. Elizabeth would be gone the next day, and Drew was Sarah’s reason for being here.

Then Reece had joined her.

With his first words, he’d resurrected memories and feelings she’d fought long and hard to forget. Not that she’d ever totally succeeded. But she’d managed to relegate Reece Colby to a place in her heart where she seldom went anymore. Now that he’d reopened that door, she knew her thoughts of him wouldn’t be so easily contained again. Especially with him so close by, reminding her every time she saw him of what they’d once been to each other. And what a fool she’d been to walk away.

She stood by the window, looking out at the yard. The waxing moon illuminated the barn and bunkhouse, like dark sentinels against the night sky. Her gaze roamed to the corral, where she could see the Appaloosa still pacing. And Reece was still there, standing near the fence, as restless and distrustful as the stallion.

She watched Reece, who, with his broad shoulders and easy cowboy grace, still had the power to send her heart racing. For a few minutes, he leaned against the top railing, before shoving himself away to walk the length of the corral.

What was he thinking?

Were his thoughts of her? Of other nights like this when they’d been together? Of one night in particular, his eighteenth birthday, when they’d first made love in a barn not unlike the one down there? Something inside her, in the deepest most feminine part of her, tightened at the memory. Then, almost as quickly, she shoved the thought aside, dismissing it as romantic foolishness. No doubt Reece was thinking of how she’d once betrayed him. If he thought of her at all.

Loneliness wrapped itself around her in the dark quiet room. She wished Lyssa was here. Caring for her daughter all these years had managed to hold Sarah’s loneliness at bay. Even when she’d first left Reece and Drew, only the thought of her unborn child had kept her sane. Now, her daughter, her lifeline, was three hundred miles away, and Sarah desperately needed to hear her voice.

She turned away from the window to undress. She should try to sleep. Yet the room that had seemed so perfect earlier now loomed large and empty, and she knew it would be hours before sleep found her. And once again, she ended up back at the window, watching.

Reece. The only man she’d ever loved.

No, it wouldn’t have done for her to tell him about the buckle. It was a piece of him she still held, hidden away, to remind her of the boy who’d stolen her heart long ago. And the man who would never be hers.

It seemed to Sarah that she had just fallen asleep when the household began to stir, waking her. It was still dark outside, but she knew Reece planned to drive his mother to the Casper airport this morning, and they needed to get an early start. She considered getting up, but decided against it. Most likely, she’d be in the way, and besides, she didn’t relish the prospect of another confrontation with Elizabeth Colby.

So Sarah stayed in bed, thinking about what Millie had told her about Elizabeth’s trip. Evidently, she spent every summer in Boston. She’d grown up there and still maintained her family’s home. She went to shop, see relatives and friends, and get a taste of the civilized East after being stuck on a Wyoming ranch for the rest of the year. At least, that was what Millie had said. And if it was true, Sarah wondered why Reece’s mother bothered coming back.

Slowly, Sarah became aware of the day starting. She could hear Millie in the kitchen. And Reece—it could be no one else—making trips from Elizabeth’s room, down the stairs and outside. She imagined him carrying suitcases and loading them in the trunk of his car. Once she thought she heard Drew, but then someone hushed him. But mostly, there was the low hum of voices, both masculine and feminine.

Sarah smiled.

It was a pleasant feeling, waking up to a household of people. Something she’d never experienced before. But, she reminded herself quickly, it wasn’t something she needed to get used to. Her time here was short.

Later, after she heard Reece’s car pull away, she went downstairs. She found Millie in the kitchen, but Drew had already gone down to the barn. Apparently, she’d have to get up early if she planned to see him in the morning.

When she’d finished eating, Sarah offered to help Millie clean up, but was shooed out of the kitchen. So Sarah retreated to the living room, looking for something to read on the bookshelves she’d seen lining one wall. She had three hours before Drew finished his chores. Three hours until she started her first day as her son’s tutor.

“Excuse me, Miss Hanson.”

Startled, Sarah sat bolt upright in the chair, her heart pounding. “Drew. I didn’t hear you come in.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Sorry to wake you.”

“No, I …” she began, and then smiled sheepishly. Evidently, she’d been more tired than she’d realized. Yesterday had been a difficult day, followed by a long sleepless night. “I was waiting for you to finish your chores. And I guess I must have nodded off.”

“No one around here sleeps during the day.”

“Neither do I usually,” she said. “But sometimes it takes me a couple of nights to get used to a strange bed.”

He shrugged. “Millie said to tell you lunch is ready.”

“Good. I’m hungry.”

Drew gave her a half smile and started to back toward the door. “I gotta go upstairs and get cleaned up.”

“I’ll walk up with you.”

She followed him upstairs to put her book away, but stopped short just inside her room. A pair of eggs nestled in the middle of her bed, rattling suspiciously.

“Watch out, Miss Hanson,” Drew said from behind her. “Those are rattlesnake eggs. And they look ready to hatch.”

“Oh my.” She inched over to the bed. “I wonder how they got here.” Very gently, she reached down and scooped the two eggs into her hands. “I just love snakes.”

“You do?”

“Didn’t you know?” She stroked the eggs as if they were pets, while trying to conceal her smile. “Long ago, the Shoshone were known to other tribes as Snakes or Rattlesnakes.” She gave Drew her most sincere expression. “On the reservation, we’re taught from the time we’re children how to communicate with them. They’re considered sacred.”

He looked skeptical. “Really?”

She paused for a moment and then smiled sweetly. “What’s the matter, Drew? Haven’t you ever seen someone trying to hatch rattlesnake eggs before?” She saw in his eyes the moment he realized she’d turned his trick back on him. “You know rattlesnakes don’t lay eggs,” he said.

“You’re right.” She tossed the fake eggs at him one at a time, and he caught them deftly. “And that’ll teach you to try and trick me the way you did your summer-school teacher. I was born and raised in Wyoming, and you’ll have to do a lot better than fake rattlesnake eggs to scare me.”

Drew grinned. “So is any of that true? About the Shoshones, I mean?”

“Only the part about them being known as Snakes or Rattlesnakes to other tribes,” she said, dropping her book on the nightstand. “I made the rest up.”

Drew rolled his eyes.

“Go on now. Get cleaned up.”

He started to leave the room, but stopped at the door. “You’re not mad, are you?”

Sarah smiled and shook her head. “No, Drew. I’m not mad.”

“Great.” He grinned and scurried off down the hall.

Sarah laughed lightly, thinking how boys never changed. They all had to test you. Well, she’d just passed test number one.

Instead of heading downstairs, Sarah lingered, waiting for Drew to return. When he emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, she had to smile at his halfhearted stab at cleaning up. He was all boy, from the grime under his chin, with an occasional clean streak on his neck where the water had dribbled, to the dirt under his fingernails.

She wanted nothing more than to pull him into her arms. The way she would have done with Lyssa, without giving it a second thought.

Instead, she fell into step beside him. “I’ve got an idea,” she said. “How about if we work outside today?”

“You mean schoolwork?”

She rested her hand on his shoulder and stopped him at the top of the stairs. “Sometimes I think better outside. How about you?”

“Don’t know. Never thought about it.”

“You must have a favorite spot away from the ranch buildings. Someplace cool. We could ride out and work there.”

“Well, there is a place a couple of miles toward the hills. There’s trees and a small creek …” Shrugging, he let his voice trail off.

“Sounds perfect.”

“But what about …” He dropped his gaze to his feet, and Sarah ached for him. “I got to eat in the afternoon.”

“No problem.” She again resisted the urge to put her arms around him. “We’ll take something with us. What do you say?”

He still hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Come on.” She gave his shoulder a quick squeeze before releasing him and starting down the stairs. “I know you’re good with horses.”

“Yeah.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“Are you sure my dad won’t mind?”

“I’ll take full responsibility.”

“What are you two cooking up?” Millie asked as they arrived in the kitchen.

Sarah smiled, knowing she could count on Millie to back her up. “I thought since this is our first day working together, we should do it outside. Drew knows the perfect place.”

“Sounds good to me,” Millie stated.

And it was settled.

They ate lunch, just the three of them. Drew remained a bit distant, but the atmosphere was much better than it had been the night before. Sarah was confident she’d be able to get through to her son. Afterward, Millie put together an afternoon snack, while Sarah went upstairs to change into jeans and pack up the books they’d need.

Then she followed Drew down to the barn.

No one else was around, and Drew readied the horses. As she watched his smooth confidence while working with the animals, it struck her again that this nearly grown child was the infant she’d left behind eleven years ago. It was an odd and unsettling sensation.

It was a perfect summer day as they left the ranch behind and headed east toward the Black Hills. They rode along in companionable silence for a while, and Sarah felt good for the first time since she’d arrived here two days earlier.

“Do you ride out here often?” she asked.

“Sometimes.”

The land rolled away from them in wave after wave of flowing grasses. The distant Black Hills, carpeted in dark green ponderosa pine, beckoned to them.

“Paha Sapa,” Sarah said, using the name the Shoshone’s neighbors, the Sioux, had given it. “The hills that are black. I’ve always heard they were beautiful.”

“You’ve never been here before?”

Sarah glanced at him, thinking of the one time Reece had brought her to his home. She hadn’t come for the surrounding beauty. They’d seen only each other. And then his parents had kicked them off the ranch. “Only once, and never this close to the hills.”

“Where did you meet my dad?” Drew asked.

“At a weekend rodeo in Riverton.”

“Were you competing?”

“Sure was.” Sarah shifted sideways in her saddle to get a better look at her son. “I owned the fastest barrel racer in the state. And your dad, boy, he could ride a bronc like—”

“No way.”

Sarah laughed. “Sure. Didn’t he ever tell you?”

“Dad riding in a rodeo?” Drew shook his head, obviously not sure whether to believe her. “I’d like to see that.”

“Well, you should have. He was good. He competed in both the saddle and bareback events. But calf roping was where he excelled.”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t believe he never told you. He even won a silver buckle once.”

That silenced Drew. Sarah watched as he digested the information, obviously trying to reconcile this new image of his father. It made her wonder just what was going on with Reece and their son. How come this was all such a surprise to Drew?

“I’m sure he’d tell you about it if you asked,” she said.

Drew looked doubtful. “How come he quit?”

“It was just weekend rodeo.” Sarah shrugged. Reece had never been serious about it. “We had a lot of fun. But I guess other things became more important.”

“Like?” Drew sounded as if he couldn’t believe anything could be more important than riding in a rodeo.

“Well, like school …”

Drew groaned.

Sarah turned to him and smiled. “And raising a son.”

“What about my mom? Did you meet her there, too?”

Sarah’s heart skipped a beat, and she had to grab the saddle horn for a moment to keep her seat. She should have seen this coming. She’d known that sooner or later he’d ask about his mother again. After all, it had been one of the first things out of his mouth the day she’d met him.

“Miss Hanson? Are you okay?”

Sarah took a deep breath and nodded. The boy was too observant. “I’m fine.” What was she supposed to say? How could she answer him without lying? They’d ridden up under a row of cottonwoods that lined a small creek and halted the horses. “This it?” she asked.

“Yeah. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. But we better get to work.” Sarah slid off her horse.

Drew followed suit, taking both horses and hobbling them so they wouldn’t run off. “Can you tell me about my mom first?”

Who was she kidding? There was no way she could answer him without lying. Just being here with him without telling him the truth was a lie. “There’s not much to tell,” she said, her untruthful words lodging in her throat. “I didn’t know her that well. Come on, we better get to work now.”

To her surprise, Drew let it go. And although she was grateful for the small reprieve, it both hurt and angered her. Evidently, Drew’s questions about his mother had been put off before, and he’d grown used to it.

After that, the afternoon passed quickly.

Working with Drew turned out to be a pleasure. He had a quick mind and grasped concepts easily—when she could get him to pay attention. Schoolwork wasn’t high on his priority list, and she spent a good portion of the time reining him in. There were any number of things he’d rather talk about, and she was kept on her toes all afternoon bringing him back to his studies. But by the time they’d remounted their horses and were headed toward the ranch, she felt they’d made good progress for the first day. It would get better. He’d opened up to her and begun to trust.

That was what she’d wanted.

Yet her stomach churned and her head ached. And all the way back to the ranch, as Drew chattered nonstop, a tiny voice in the back of her head whispered one word, over and over again.

Liar.