for them to give me the okay.”
“If you need money, you let Daddy and me know,” her mother said.
Jessie would only accept more money if the horses were going hungry. Her parents and everyone else had already helped her so much—she couldn’t ask them for anything more. “I’m good, Mama.”
“Are you sure? I know it’s gotta be tough working with Payson. I know how badly he hurt you,” her mother said, a tsk in her voice. Her mother had been equally disappointed with Jessie and Payson when the marriage had ended.
Jessie didn’t want to talk about what had happened. She’d let go of the sadness and the resentment—she’d been sure—or she’d never have called Payson about Hope’s Ride. Since he’d shown up, she’d been replaying their marriage, both good and bad. It all got on her last nerve. “Mama, Payson and I are doing fine. This is about Hope’s Ride and him moving up at the hospital. It’s just business.”
“Mm-hmm,” her mother said. “I’m not too partial to those TV advice doctors, but you know they’re always asking people, ‘How will that work for you?’ So, how do you think that’s going to work?”
“I told you, it’s business.”
“That’s what you said. But, really, darlin’, how can it ever be strictly business between the two of you?”
“We’re divorced, Mama. That’s all there is.”
“You know how I feel about that divorce,” her mama said, “but that horse left the barn years ago. Do you think this is your chance to settle things between you? You know, talk about—”
“We are not talking about the past. That’s over. This is about Hope’s Ride.”
“Is it in the past? Why did you call Payson in the first place?”
Jessie knew this answer. “Because he works at the best pediatric hospital in the valley.”
“Mmm-hmm. What about that teaching hospital that was looking for programs that use alternative therapies? I remember Daddy tellin’ you about it. He saw it on the news.”
“Desert Valley is better,” Jessie said stubbornly.
“Darlin’, that may be true, too, but that’s not why you called Payson.”
“It’s the only reason, Mama. Hope’s Ride needs to be endorsed by and affiliated with only the best hospital. Plus a lot of my kids have doctors there.”
“And at every other hospital in the valley. You are a very smart girl. Even you should be able to figure out why you called on Payson when you were in trouble.”
“It’s business, Mama,” Jessie said, and even she could hear the desperation in her voice. Business was the only reason. She was over Payson. She was the one who’d filed for the divorce, for goodness’ sake. “Having Desert Valley’s stamp of approval will give me a cushion and let me expand in a few years, branch out to help more children.”
“Any hospital could have given you that cushion.”
“Mama, I have to go. I have orientation for the hospital staff today, and then we’ve got a full day of therapy,” Jessie broke in.
Her mother gave a gusty sigh. “Baby girl, you know I love you no matter what. But I swear you and Payson need your heads knocked together. Just business. Not likely. Now, you go and get to work.”
It was hard to get her mother’s voice out of her thoughts. In the dark days when Jessie had been considering divorce, Mama had counseled against it. Instead, she said that Jessie and Payson needed to talk and maybe see a professional. Jessie had tried to follow that advice, but it didn’t help that when they could actually find time to talk, one of them was always tired and distracted. Their discussions quickly broke down into hurtful fights.
Then Jessie stopped asking her mama for advice and went to visit a divorce lawyer. She had just wanted the pain to end. Perhaps now she could admit that, as she signed her name to the papers, Jessie had known that she and Payson still had unfinished business.
* * *
“I THINK THAT went well,” Jessie said to Payson as they ended the orientation later in the day. “Even you seemed comfortable around the horses.”
“Why are you so surprised? It wasn’t like it was the first time I was ever around a horse,” he said, giving her a lowered-brow look that was supposed to intimidate her.
“Dr. Mac.” Alex’s little-boy voice carried easily from where he was getting out of his mother’s car and into his wheelchair, which was a sure sign that Alex was having a bad day. “Dr. Mac. You came to see me ride.” He bounced in his seat and a grin stretched across his face. His brush with near disaster hadn’t dampened his enthusiasm for the horses.
“Sure thing, buddy,” Payson said.
Jessie was surprised. He’d told her that he was leaving right after the orientation session because he had a stack of paperwork back at the hospital. She’d been relieved. Without him around, she didn’t have to think of the interrupted conversations that she knew they needed to continue. Even in the face of Alex’s excitement, a part of her wanted to tell Payson to go—the part that recalled vividly every caress they had ever shared and the part that still got disconcertingly hot and bothered when their arms accidentally brushed or he stood near enough for her to catch the fresh scent of his shaving cream. She said nothing.
“I get to feed Molly her apple today. Miss Jessie promised. ’Member I didn’t get to before when you were here and then Mommy wouldn’t let me come and now Mommy said this is the last time I’m coming to see Molly, so I gotta give her the apple.”
“Your last time?” Payson asked quietly.
Alex pulled on Payson’s arm to get him to lean closer and whispered in a voice that still carried to Jessie. “Mommy said that I couldn’t come anymore ’cause they said that there wasn’t no more money for riding.”
Jessie looked at the little boy’s mother and saw her eyes swimming in tears. “Come on, Alex,” Jessie said, getting behind his wheelchair. “We’ve been waiting for you. You ready to ride?”
“Yep,” Alex said.
“Are you sure? You got your boots?”
He stretched out a foot. “Yep,” he said. This was a game that he and Jessie sometimes played.
“What about jeans? You got your riding jeans on?”
“Yep. Mommy forgot to wash them, but they don’t stink too bad.”
Jessie leaned over and took a deep sniff. “I don’t know. You smell like...road apples,” she said with a grin.
“Miss Jessie, what’s that? Is that the kind of apple that Molly likes?” Alex asked.
Jessie hesitated, looking back at Payson to see if he’d heard the exchange. He was in deep conversation with Alex’s mother. It didn’t really matter if he’d heard, she told herself, because Payson wouldn’t remember her teasing him about road apples and how it had led to their first date. She was the only one who kept being blindsided by memories of their time together.
Jessie couldn’t stop her smile as she explained to Alex that “road apples” was a different way to say horse poop.
He giggled. “Horse doody don’t look like apples.”
“I guess to whoever made that up, it did,” she said. “Time to get riding.” She could see his brain continuing to work on the mystery. As she helped Alex onto his mount, she wondered if this would be his last time. Maybe not. Kids often said things that weren’t true because they didn’t understand what the adults around them were really saying. She tried not to play favorites, but there was something about Alex that tugged at her heart. She couldn’t view him as just another patient. How did Payson do this on a regular