it. Simple as that.
Connie leaned over and picked a blade of grass, twisting it in her fingertips. “Take Wild Ones, for instance. You decided working as a location scout for an adventure travel company was a great way to see the world.”
“It was.” Robin wasn’t getting her sister’s point. Her career with Wild Ones was an ongoing success. As an example of mistakes in life, it was rather pathetic.
“They needed pilots. You became a pilot.”
“So?”
“They needed translators. You learned Portuguese.”
“I don’t understand what you’re getting at. What’s wrong with learning Portuguese? These are all good things.”
“Everything you did, for years and years, was focused toward the goal of becoming a perfect Wild Ones employee.”
“I still don’t see this as a problem. So I’m focused? So I’m determined? It’s taken me a long way in life.” A gust of wind blew Robin’s hair across her face, and she swept the strands behind her ear.
“But you never give life a chance.”
“A chance to do what?”
“You never trust that there are people around you who might make good things happen. Good things that you never even knew you wanted. All I’m suggesting is that you slow down for a while and give fate a chance.”
Fate? Robin had tried fate once. Fifteen years ago in the Forever River. But Jacob Bronson had stopped her, thank goodness.
She still shuddered at the possible consequences of making love with Jake. She might have become pregnant at eighteen. Or worse, she might have imagined she was in love with him and stayed in Forever. She would have missed out on her education, her career, her life.
No. Fate couldn’t be trusted in the driver’s seat.
She blinked at Connie. “You want me to wander willy-nilly through life and let fate blow me around like a dried leaf?”
“It’s worked for me. I never would have met Robert if I hadn’t missed that plane to Seattle.”
“That was luck.”
“Call it what you want.”
“I don’t know, Connie. I can’t imagine myself hanging around international airports hoping to meet the man of my dreams.”
Connie chuckled. “All I’m suggesting is that you go with the flow once in a while. Let the wind take you.”
“Like a dried leaf?”
“You’re not a dried leaf.” Connie sighed and put an arm around Robin. “Just don’t get so focused that you miss an opportunity right under your nose.”
“I’ll try.” Robin’s gaze relaxed on the honey-warm logs of Jake’s new house. She and fate did not have a good track record.
“But whatever you decide,” said Connie. “You know you’ll have my full support.”
Robin’s chest constricted. She blinked quickly. “Thanks.”
“Mom!” Bobby shrieked from inside. “Sammy broke my truck.”
“Did not.”
“Did, too.”
“Did not.”
“In the meantime, think long and hard about having those kids.” Connie shook her head as she trotted up the stairs.
THE BOYS’ ARGUMENT subsided, and distant laughter drifted over from Jake’s property. Robin brought his house back into focus. Jake and three other people, two men and a woman, strolled past a neat row of square, quarter-acre horse pens.
She watched his confident, long-legged stride, and thought about fate. Had fate brought him to her that night in the river? Was it fate that had made her want him or fate that had made him stop?
Would she have become pregnant? Would she have fallen in love?
She shook herself. It was irrelevant, really. Since they couldn’t go back to find out.
Jake and his friends stopped beside a central corral. The chestnut stallion penned up inside circled, snorted and kicked exuberantly in the cool morning air.
Robin knew she should follow her sister and help make lunch for the kids, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Jake. He’d more than fulfilled the physical promise she glimpsed back then. Hard-muscled, he moved his big body with athletic grace and ease. If he ever wanted to leave Forever, she could probably get him a job at Wild Ones. Maybe he could model for their adventure brochures.
He swung up to the top fence rail, then tipped back his Stetson hat and raised his fingers to his mouth, emitting a shrill whistle. Horses from all over the ranch perked up their ears. There was a general shift of horseflesh in his direction. Robin stepped forward for a better view.
Good grief, she was just as bad as the horses.
The stallion in the corral cantered over, switching back and forth in front of Jake. Jake slowly lowered himself to the ground inside the corral. The people around him closed in and he was lost to view.
Then he was back. He was up on the horse. Hat settled firmly on his head, biceps bulging beneath his white T-shirt, he touched its flanks with his boot heels and the animal sprang off the ground.
Robin gasped, fighting an urge to rush forward.
The horse’s body arced. It came down hard, front hooves sending up a cloud of dust that gusted sideways across the pen. Then it immediately kicked its back legs toward the sky, haunch and shoulder muscles bunched and shifting with its rage.
Was the man out of his mind?
Jake’s sinewy muscles kept perfect pace with the angry animal. As he leaned back and elongated his body, Robin unconsciously tightened her muscles with him. His free arm trailed out to one side, rocking against the empty air in time to the movements of the horse. The horse’s hind legs barely touched the earth before they rebounded again. Each leap was higher than the last.
She willed him to stick to the animal’s back.
It changed tactics, crow-hopping sideways toward the fence as if it intended to scrape Jake off. She inched closer, pressing her legs together, as if the force of her concentration would help him stay put.
He held his seat. His rear end alternately connected with the horse’s bare back and defied physics by hovering above the shifting target as if they were cosmically connected.
The horse took a sudden twist. Several of its cohorts whinnied in apparent excitement and approval as Jake’s hat hit the dirt. Robin’s legs moved under her, quickening into a jog, stopping only when she came to the fence that separated the two properties. She gripped the smooth, painted rails, gaze riveted to the spectacle, prepared to leap over and use her first-aid skills if need be.
She cringed as the horse twisted again. Just when she thought Jake would win, the animal jerked to one side. Jake’s butt came down a split second too late. He clutched the air, then sprawled, facedown, sending up a dense cloud of brown dust.
Had he hit his head? It looked as if he’d hit his head.
Robin vaulted over the fence. The riderless horse bucked away, its mouth frothing and sweat glistening on its flanks. Sprinting across the field, she focused on Jake’s crumpled body.
Before she made it halfway, Jake leaped to his feet. He limped toward the agitated horse, stopping part way to lean down and retrieve his battered hat. He whacked it against his leg before settling it back on his head.
Robin kept running as he moved closer and closer to the wild animal. He held up his hands, speaking in a hollow, soothing baritone. The man was truly insane. The horse didn’t look soothed, it looked menacing and angry as it snorted and pawed the ground.
Still,