still, when he asked her out, she’d very politely and coolly told him, “No, thank you,” without so much as a pause, adding, “My father says I should stay away from guys with only one thing on their minds, and I agree.”
“Have I made a move once during chem class? Come on, give me a chance.”
“Billy Mac, you’ve dated every pretty girl in this high school and then some. I’m reasonably sure you’ll find half a dozen fans to go with you to your next rodeo and they’ll jump up and down and wave pom-poms when you win that fancy belt buckle.”
Billy hadn’t given up. He’d done his best to win Shannon over, figuring that she must surely feel the chemistry simmering between them, chemistry that had nothing to do with the lab work they shared. After all, every time their hands touched, Shannon blushed. Their conversations ran the gamut from world affairs to the gossip heard at Willard’s General Store, and Billy began to hope that, in spite of the differences between them, in spite of the fact that he was just a half-breed off the rez and she was on track to be a country-and-western star, she might realize that she was falling in love with him.
But it was not meant to be, because that was the year Travis Roy’s family arrived in Bear Paw. Travis was a city boy and a slick talker. He could sing and play guitar. He started a country-and-western band and Shannon was his first recruit.
Before long, they were playing gigs at all the local watering holes. Then they were playing gigs in the big towns. Cities. The band entered a regional contest and won. Went to Nashville to enter a bigger contest and won there, too, handily. They were televised on a national star-search TV show just a few months later, which they also won.
They were young and on fire, and in retrospect, Billy couldn’t believe he’d had the nerve to ask her out that second time, to his senior prom, no less, knowing full well she’d turn him down once again and cut him off at the knees. But he asked her anyway, figuring he had nothing to lose, and she’d politely thanked him and said she already had a date.
Travis, of course.
So Billy took the head of the cheerleading squad to the prom and had to watch Shannon and Travis having too good a time together on the dance floor. That was the same night he blew any chance he might have had with Shannon by breaking Travis’s nose in the parking lot.
As soon as he could screw up the nerve he’d gone over to her ranch to apologize and he’d found her crying on the porch, her arms clutched around Tess. She’d had a fight with her dad about wanting to leave for Nashville, one of an endless string back then. Billy understood wanting something different than what you had. He’d gone to Shannon and held her for a long while...and then he’d kissed her.
He hadn’t meant to, hadn’t planned it, but Shannon’s body instantly melted against his, and she’d kissed him back with all the passion he knew lived within her. For a few brief, glorious seconds, Billy thought he’d finally won her heart...until she froze in his embrace as she realized what she was doing, wrenched herself out of his arms and slapped him, accusation in her eyes. “What happened to not making a move, Billy?” she’d said. “My father was right about you!”
Hurt and ashamed, he’d lashed out: “What’s the matter? A half-breed off the rez isn’t good enough for a McTavish?”
“I don’t care about that, Billy. Never have. I wish you could say the same.” Then she’d disappeared into the house, slamming the door on Billy’s hopes and dreams.
Shortly thereafter, with the promise of a recording contract with a big producer, Shannon and Travis left Wyoming and headed for Tennessee to cut their first single.
It was a smash hit.
Billy had wondered about her often in the years that followed. He kept up with her life through the songs on the radio, the tabloids at the grocery store and through letters from friends back home.
So he knew she’d married Travis. Had a baby girl. Gotten famous. But in spite of all that fame and fortune, her marriage had failed. As far as Billy was concerned, her coming back home was good. She needed to mend fences with her father, and McTavish needed Shannon and his granddaughter in his life more than he’d ever admit.
And her being home gave Billy a chance to prove two things to Shannon: that this was the perfect place to raise her daughter, and that Billy, in spite of his injuries, wasn’t just some half-breed Indian off the rez riding a dead-end horse.
What wasn’t good was that Travis Roy knew where she was. Travis had hurt her, and Billy could think of few forms of life lower than a man who would abuse his woman. If Travis showed up here, there’d be hell to pay.
Billy felt uneasy leaving Shannon alone at the house while he hayed, but he could watch the road from some of the fields, and even where he couldn’t, he’d be able to see the cloud of dust a vehicle kicked up when it approached the ranch.
He kept his eyes peeled all afternoon, sitting on the old Moline, driving back and forth, back and forth, across the fields, making hay.
* * *
SHANNON WALKED UP to the old windmill after lunch. She carried a hamper containing sandwiches and a thermos of hot coffee in one hand and held Rose’s hand in the other. The windmill wasn’t too far from the ranch, but after they’d hiked half an hour Rose began to complain.
“Momma, I’m tired.”
“Almost there, sweetie, just a little farther. Maybe we’ll see some horses up there, or a cow that might have escaped the roundup.”
The trail followed the creek, and Shannon scanned for tracks. There were some old hoofprints left by horses and cattle, and she thought she saw the impression of a bear paw in a soft patch of mud alongside its namesake creek, but nothing really fresh and no boot tracks. This didn’t surprise her. Her father would’ve driven the truck to the site using one of the old ranch roads. The windmill hadn’t worked in many years. After her mother died, everything had started to slide downhill.
“My legs are tired,” Rose said. “Can you carry me?”
“No, honey. You’re big enough to walk.”
“Why couldn’t we ride?”
“Because you don’t know how to ride yet.”
“But you said you’d teach me.”
“I will, but first we have to find your grampy.” Shannon was worried, though she tried to keep that from Rose. Her father thought she’d left the ranch and taken Rose. Billy said he’d been upset. Would he be angry to see them or pleased? Or would he be just his old stoic self and show no emotion at all? If only she could have left Rose back at the ranch. But with no one to watch Rose, she’d had no choice but to bring her along.
Should she tell her father about Travis’s phone call or would that just make things worse?
They crested the last stretch of steep climb and stopped for a breather. “There’s the windmill,” Shannon said, “and there’s your grampy’s truck.” She was relieved to see it, and Rose tugged at her hand, forgetting how tired she was.
“Come on, Momma. Let’s bring Grampy his food.”
Her father was sitting inside the cab of the truck. The windows were rolled down. The truck was facing the windmill, so he didn’t see them until he noticed movement in his side-view mirror. He turned his head and Shannon could tell instantly from his red-rimmed eyes that he’d been drinking. She pulled Rose to a stop beside her, her stomach churning. She wished she hadn’t come, but it was too late.
“I went to town after breakfast to get some groceries,” she said. She held up the hamper. “We brought you some lunch.”
“Do you like tuna sandwiches, Grampy?” Rose asked.
He dragged his forearm across his face and cleared his throat. “I do, yes,” he said roughly.
“We brought you some,” Rose said. “And Momma made you some coffee.”