happened in Morocco was in the past.
As she brushed down the mare, Amy went over the morning’s events once more in her head. Jack was just as attractive as always, that was for sure, but in high school he’d seemed a little more...happy-go-lucky, she supposed. He had always seemed happy, as if life smiled upon him. There was something careworn about him now.
She fervently hoped that she wasn’t the one to change that about him.
She shook her head at the irony of that thought, since it was just that part of his nature that had been one of the reasons she had run instead of talking to him. She’d been worried he would convince her that the doctors were wrong and they could have exactly the life they’d planned because it was the life he wanted, dammit, and everything always worked out the way he wanted.
And she had known all those years ago that if she talked to him she would cave, give in to the hope even when she knew the odds, and it had made her a coward.
But now—
“I saw Jack Stuart walking you home,” Pop said from behind Amy, startling her out of her thoughts.
He came up beside her and pet the horse she was grooming, but said nothing else. Just waited.
Amy nodded. “He spotted me while I was out riding. We had a good talk.”
Pop said nothing, but she could tell by the slight curve of his mustache that he was pleased. He didn’t meddle in the affairs of his children like Ma, but he cared deeply for their happiness. Impulsively, Amy gave the old man a hug.
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea or not, but I’m going on a date with him tonight. I’ve missed him all these years, but maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe I’m just setting myself up to get hurt, and I don’t want to go through that again—” She stopped, aware she was saying more than she’d meant to.
She hadn’t told anyone about Armand, and frankly she didn’t plan on doing it anytime soon. It was more than humiliating, and she wasn’t ready to relive it.
Luckily, Pop wasn’t the type to pry. He put a hand on Amy’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry,” he said.
She wasn’t sure if he meant not to worry about the date or her past pain or what, but it was fine not knowing. He probably meant all of it. Pop didn’t need many words to be there for his daughter.
Amy turned back to the mare to finish grooming her. “How’s the riding school going?” she asked, ready for a change of topic.
The old man puffed out a stream of air that made his mustache flutter. “Fewer kids every year, seems like. If it weren’t for the rest of the ranch and the few stud horses we have, it wouldn’t be worth the costs. Still, it’s such a part of this place I’d keep it going if it cost me a small fortune. Your ma thinks I’m crazy, but there it is.”
Amy hadn’t heard her father say so many words in one go since the time he’d lectured her on the dangers of peer pressure when she was a teenager. She’d always known her pop was partial to the riding school, and even though she worried about his health, she had to love his loyalty to the horses and the children.
The mare under Amy’s hand snorted and shook her mane, as if trying to get Amy’s attention back on her where it belonged. Amy smiled. “I like this horse, Pop. What’s her name?”
“Queen Bee.”
Amy chuckled as the animal raised her head regally. The name fit her, certainly.
“Be careful riding her, though. She had a run-in with a snake a while back and spooks easy. I don’t let the riding school kids take her out anymore.”
Amy patted the horse like she was an old friend. “I can handle a skittish horse, Pop.”
* * *
JACK DROVE BACK to his family’s ranch in a state of disbelief. He had prepared himself for an ugly fight, or for no answer at all, but not this. A reconciliation? Maybe not quite, but it was at least a new chance for him and Amy.
He also hadn’t been prepared for all the emotions he would feel when he saw her. He’d tried to be ready, but nothing he could have done would prepare him for the electricity that shot through him at the sight of her. She was as stunning as ever.
There was also a sliver of fear, as if she was going to disappear again before his eyes, as if she had never been real in the first place.
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, full of nervous energy. He didn’t know what he could do to keep himself occupied until that evening, but he’d need to find something or he would go crazy waiting, wondering if it was all real, if she would be there when he arrived at the McNeal house at seven.
Once his truck was parked in front of Stuart Ranch, Jack went immediately toward the barn, veering around the house. Indoors sounded stifling, and he knew it would be infuriating to pace around the living room watching the hand on the clock move with frustrating slowness, which he was sure would happen. Better to get onto a horse and do something under the clear cool sky rather than hole up inside.
As he approached the barn, his brother Tom walked out with a couple of horses on leads. Jack went up to him, seeing an opportunity for distraction. “How can I help?” he asked.
Tom gave him a curious look, as if he sensed something of Jack’s emotions. “I’m setting up for a group of students. They’ll be here in a half hour.”
“Ages?” Jack asked, turning to go to the barn and get whatever else they might need for the riding lessons.
“Under sevens,” Tom answered. “There’ll be about four kids total,” he added before Jack could disappear into the barn.
Jack sighed. He should have expected such low numbers, but it was always a little deflating to be reminded how much it had dwindled. With more than one school in this tiny area, and the drop in population over the past few years, having any students at all was a stroke of luck. His father and Mr. McNeal had started their riding schools years ago when the high demand for lessons meant both schools could prosper. When their father was, if not young, at least spry, they had kids driving in from towns over an hour away. He loved teaching children how to ride, and it showed in the flourishing school he ran.
Without his touch, the school had fallen off to maybe twenty students. If Spring Valley’s population had stayed steady, maybe they would be afloat even without Dad’s magic touch, but as the town dwindled, so did their business.
Now they were at the point that the only reason they’d manage to pay the bills was Jack’s winnings from the rodeo and Tom’s determination to stretch every dollar. If Jack didn’t find a new partner soon, he didn’t think even Tom’s penny-pinching would save them.
Still, the ranch had to run. It was their mom’s home—it was Jack’s future. Tom didn’t want the ranch, never had, but Jack always dreamed of turning it into a rodeo school when he retired with a good chunk of cash from his roping career.
If they could somehow last that long. Something would need to change, but what and how?
Jack pulled himself out of his reverie. It wasn’t helping anything, and he’d gone over it all so many times, but it always led to nothing. Now was the time to work, not think, so he grabbed a couple more of their gentlest horses and brought them out to the paddock where Tom was standing with the others.
They looped the leads over a fence post and both went back for saddles. “Have a good drive?” Tom asked.
Jack could tell Tom wanted to ask what had happened, knew Tom saw a change in him. And even though there was no reason to hide his reunion with Amy, that their date couldn’t possibly be a secret, he still felt a momentary desire to hide it, as if talking about it might make it all go away like a birthday wish or something.
Tom was watching him, though, and he knew he had to come clean. “I went to see Amy. We talked and decided to go out tonight.”
“Like on a date?”