thought formed, he knew he was fooling himself. Talia was his stake, the beginning of a larger plan that was supposed to get him away from the wheel of a semi.
“McLure stitched her up,” Kevin continued.
Joe felt himself relax. Allister knew as much about horses as Joe did. And Allister would be the next person Joe would call.
Joe ran a hand over his face, weariness engulfing him. The smell of burned coffee had become nauseating. A sure signal that it was time to get some sleep, yet all he wanted to do was run to his truck and head home. “Where did you put her?”
“In the lean-to. McLure gave me some antibiotics that I have to give her with her feed.”
“Okay.” Joe yawned, his eyes bleary. He had to trust that Kevin would take care of Talia. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.” Joe placed the phone slowly in the cradle. He still held the receiver, biting his lip, wondering if it was too early to call Allister McLure.
And what would that accomplish? Joe was miles from home. He had to trust that Kevin would do what Allister told him to.
Jenna dropped onto the couch beside Rebecca, blowing out a breath in frustration. “How many drinks do little girls need before they can finally sleep?”
Rebecca glanced at her sister over her book, smiling. “I’m sure we weren’t much easier on Mother.”
“We had a nanny,” Jenna reminded Rebecca, tucking her feet under her. She ran her hand along the rough material of the hunter green couch. “We also had better furniture,” she murmured, pulling on a loose thread with a frown of displeasure.
“The couch looks fine, Jenna.”
Jenna leveled a patient look at her sister. “You don’t need to patronize me. I should have shopped around more when we bought this set, but Troy didn’t want to spend that much money. And now look at it.” Jenna wound the loose thread around her finger and tucked it into the pocket of her jeans. “But there’s no way I can justify buying a different suite. Not when I’ve been hassling Troy about putting on a solarium.”
Jenna was never satisfied, Rebecca thought. The house was only five years old, but she had already added a fireplace to the family room and renovated Shannon and Amanda’s bedrooms and the upstairs bathroom. Now she wanted to add a solarium. Jenna didn’t want to face the fact that her biggest problem wasn’t the house. The problem was it wasn’t her parent’s house, which was much larger, fancier and more impressive. “This house is plenty big enough, Jenna.”
“I suppose,” Jenna replied looking around, her lips pursed. “I’m just used to more. It’s very hard to move down the economic food chain.” Jenna sighed. “I can’t believe you once considered becoming a phys ed instructor. They make even less than a bank manager does. You’d never have been satisfied.”
Rebecca said nothing at the unintended slight. Jenna still regarded her as the spoiled baby of the family who got more than Jenna did. “I did more than consider it, Jenna,” she said. “I got my degree, and I would have had a job if I hadn’t—” Rebecca pressed her lips together. Why was it still so hard to talk about the accident? To even casually mention the loss of her dreams that day.
“Oh, Becks. It must have been hard, I’m sure.” Jenna laid her hand on Rebecca’s shoulder in sympathy. “I still can’t believe Kyle just walked away.”
Rebecca could. Kyle felt guilty. He was the one who had lost his temper. He was the one who had gone after her on his horse. When he lost control, he was the one who escaped with only a bruised shoulder. It was Rebecca who had sustained the spinal injury.
Guilt kept him away. She was always thankful that her parents hadn’t taken their lawyer’s advice and sued. She wanted to put the whole episode behind her. Winning a court settlement wouldn’t repair her body. Her parents had more than enough money.
And she didn’t want to have to face Kyle and his abandonment.
“I’m sorry I brought it up,” Jenna continued. “You’re here now, and I’m glad. Although I don’t know why you insist on working. You don’t have to, you know.”
“Yes, I do, Jenna. I’ve got that business degree Mom and Dad paid for. I can’t pay them back for my education degree, but at least I can do something. I was ready to climb the walls at home with Mother fussing and fretting and hovering over me.” Rebecca smiled at her sister, her book forgotten in her lap. “I like the work even if it’s not what I always wanted.”
“I never could understand why you liked sports as much as you did.” Jenna wrinkled her nose in distaste. “And Shannon is just like you. She’ll be involved in every sport possible, just like you were. I’m sure we’ll need to put in a swimming pool for her someday.”
“Honestly, Jenna. Aren’t you ever going to be satisfied with this house?”
Jenna withdrew her hand from her sister’s shoulder and looked around with a shrug. “I don’t know. I’m just wondering what it’s going to be like when Shannon and Amanda start having friends over. It seems like we use every square inch of space now. I can’t imagine what it will be like then.”
“It’ll be fine,” Rebecca replied. “Do you remember my friend Miriam? They weren’t rich, and they didn’t have a big house at all, but I loved going to their place.”
“Was she that girl who lived on the dairy farm?”
Rebecca nodded, smiling as she remembered breakfasts around a crowded table and noise and laughter. After breakfast there were chores. It didn’t matter who was there—everyone pitched in. “What I remember best of Miriam’s place was the space and room outside. Mom and Dad had a huge house in Calgary, but I always felt closed in there. I never felt that way at Miriam’s place. I always said that when I grew up, I wanted to live on a place like that.”
Jenna punched Rebecca’s shoulder lightly. “You’re such a romantic, Rebecca. I’m sure you didn’t get to see Miriam’s parents burning the midnight oil trying to figure out how to make the money stretch to buy enough food and clothes for that brood of kids.” Jenna let her hand rest on her sister’s shoulder. “You’ve never had to be on your own, so you don’t know how hard it is to scrimp. Take my advice, girl. Marry someone who can keep you in the style to which you are accustomed. Now, more than ever, you have to be choosy about who you marry.”
Rebecca bristled at her condescending tone, quite sure she was alluding to Rebecca’s limp. It annoyed her that her family saw her as helpless and spoiled. Her sister was no better than her parents in thinking that she would cave if she wasn’t dressed in designer outfits or nibbling on gourmet chocolates. Truth was, Rebecca couldn’t care less, but no one seemed to get it.
“And how is working with Dale?” Jenna continued.
Rebecca had wondered when Jenna would bring that up. “He wants to take me out this weekend,” she said absently, her eyes skimming over the words to find her place.
“I’ll bet he takes you to the Palliser. I loved that hotel,” she said wistfully. “Troy and I haven’t been there since our third anniversary.”
Rebecca had never cared much about where they ate and who they ate with, she thought, noting the faraway look in Jenna’s eye. Food was food, she figured. Lobster thermidor or a burger at a fast-food restaurant served the same purpose. They filled you up.
“I’ll let you know when he tells me,” Rebecca said absently, looking at her book. She couldn’t get into the story, but by pretending to read, she forestalled Jenna’s other questions. She didn’t want to dissect every nuance of Dale’s very short phone conversation, nor did she want to talk about what she should wear. Rebecca had more important things on her mind right now. She was still waiting to hear from the high school in Edmonton about her job application for phys ed instructor. She had applied quite soon after her accident, figuring that hard work would get her mobile in spite of what the doctors said. She had the knowledge, and at one time she