Chapter 20
They say what happens in a hot spring stays in a hot spring. As I sit across from Jess and Sanai at the coffee shop, buying Jess coffee as a thank-you for watching Emma, I’m tempted to start waxing poetic. Even hours later, I still feel the languid relaxation that comes from a man who knows what he’s doing.
And boy , does the man know what he’s doing.
“Okay, spill. You look like you have stars in your eyes.” Sanai grins at me from around the lip of her drink, and I know I’m busted. Sanai’s hired help is on the clock, giving her a chance to join us.
Jess leans forward, waggling their eyebrows. “Have we reached the actual honeymoon stage of your total-sham-but-actually-not-a-sham marriage?”
“There may have been a visit to Hot Toddy,” I admit. Jess sighs, their eyes glazing over dreamily, so I quickly add, “But it didn’t go—”
“Nope.” They stop me before I can finish my sentence. “Just let me have this moment to envision my best friend and her hunky new partner having the kind of romantic experience she deserves instead of the table scraps you were trying to make do with.”
I try and fail to smother my snicker, because Jess is right: sex with Micah was terrible by the end. But I know I never complained about it to them, so I arch an eyebrow.
Jess just smirks. “Can’t. Fool. Me.”
This time, I do laugh and tap my coffee cup to both of theirs. “Let’s just say this is not the same. No more table scraps. We’re dealing with…a full sandwich.”
“Like a couple slices of ham on rye or a full meatball hoagie?” Sanai asks as I try not to snort my coffee into my nose, and this time, they’re both grinning at me naughtily.
I’m not going to answer…but it’s really tempting to. “How was watching Emma?” I ask Jess instead.
“She’s adorable and twice as smart as anyone in this town, and unlike you, she gave me all the good gossip on you and Guy. Barley’s head over heels, isn’t he?”
“He’s a grumpy curmudgeon until she’s in the room, and he turns into a lovestruck puppy.” I smile thinking about my stepdaughter. “If any little girl deserves full-blown canine adoration, it’s her.”
“I see it, you know,” Jess says, breaking off a corner of the gingerbread scone we’ve been sharing. “At first, I thought you were making a really reckless decision, but I can see how easy it was to marry him. The boy has some serious puppy-dog eyes, and when you pair the two of them up, your stoic, take-one-for-the-team savior complex never had a chance.”
“I think there was a compliment in there somewhere, but I’m not sure.”
“We’re just saying Barley isn’t the only one hot on someone else’s heels,” Sanai adds cheerfully.
“For now, anyway.” When they both look at me askance, I sigh. “Things are getting complicated. I think Guy wants it to be a real marriage.”
“You’re a hottie.” Jess shrugs. “Can you blame the man for wanting sex?”
“No, I mean, I think he wants a relationship.”
“Well, duh.” I blink as Sanai openly laughs at me. “Please tell me you’re not this dense. All Emma talked about at the block party was how much she and her daddy like you. And while you were holding her, Guy could not stop staring. The boy is smitten.”
I drink my coffee and try to sort through the thoughts in my head. My friends wait, knowing sometimes it takes me a while before I know how to verbalize what I feel, even to them.
“Right now, he wants this,” I agree slowly. “But Emma could get a kidney any day now, God willing. I pray for it every night, because I want that for her and Guy more than anything. I have no illusions about why we’re married. I know it’s to help Emma, and it’s not fair for me to ask Guy to stay with me when all this was about saving his daughter. If I had feelings for him—”
Jess snorts. “Which you clearly do. Not that you’re admitting to it.”
I sigh, burying my head in my hands. “Okay, let’s say if I have feelings for him, it’s not right to push them on him. Not when a month from now, his nightmare could be over, and he could go back to his life the way they want it to be. He might want to be with me at Christmas, but by New Year’s, everything could change. I can handle annulling the relationship after knowing we got what we wanted and Emma is okay. But I know me. I know if I let this be too real…” I close my eyes briefly. “I’m just not ready to get divorced again.”
Sanai and Jess share a look, and then they each take one of my hands, giving me a chance to fight off the wave of hurt the thought brings up in me. And I know my friends held my hand through Micah, and they’ll hold my hand through Guy too. I just don’t want them to have to.
Taking a deep breath, I squeeze their hands, then lean back in my seat. “So yeah. That’s why I’m holding back.”
“So let me get this straight,” Sanai says. “You’re worried you’re falling for your husband.”
“Yes.”
“At Christmastime,” Jess adds, and I can see them trying to keep a straight face.
“Yep.”
“And you’re trying to decide if you should tell him before his daughter gets a kidney and they don’t need you in their lives anymore?” Sanai’s eyes sparkle with humor.
“Right-o.”
“So very Hallmark of you.” I roll my eyes but exhale a small laugh because Jess has got me there. “Sienna, why don’t you just tell him this?”
“Because that would be far more emotionally healthy of me than slugging copious amounts of caffeine.” I wrinkle my nose. “I just feel ridiculous. Like…okay, he does these exercise things at night, and I just stand there and stare at him like he’s the star quarterback and I’m the water girl with horse crap on my boots.”
“Which matches up with most of the people in this town. You won’t believe what we mop up in here,” Sanai says with a sigh. “Speaking of customers, Roman’s about to get overrun.”
A wave of teenagers are coming in, ruddy faced from holiday shopping, so Sanai gives us both hugs and disappears into the back.
I sneak the rest of Sanai’s piece of gingerbread scone before Jess can get it first.
“Can I ask you a question?” Jess says. “A real, just-be-honest-with-yourself question?” When I nod, they lean in on the table. “When you close your eyes and imagine what their life is going to be like once Emma gets her kidney, do you see yourself there? Her next birthday? Five Christmases from now? Are you going to be pulling up to my house with her every Halloween because I pass out the good candy, until she’s embarrassed to be seen with you? Do you want to still be sneaking up to Hot Toddy with this boy when you’re both old and wrinkly and sun-damaged, because we both know you never remember to use sunscreen? If you do, I’m here for it. I’ll make these two an emotional room in my life, because if they matter to you, they matter to me.”
“Micah didn’t get a room,” I remind them.
“He didn’t deserve a room. Boundaries are our friends.”
I don’t have to close my eyes to imagine the rest of my life with Guy and Emma. I imagine it all the time. “Yes. I just don’t know if they do.”
“Then, my friend, there’s only one person who can answer that, and it’s not me.”
***
Jess sends me home to think about what I’ve done. Namely not admitting to Guy how important he is to me. I’ve already texted him that I’m on my way, but as I pull off the main highway, I get a call from Guy.
My heart skips a beat as I see his name pop up on my dash, and for a moment, my body is back in the hot springs.
“Hey, you,” I say in greeting, smiling at the memory. “I’m crossing the bridge as we speak.”
“Did you close the gate after you left?” Guy says instead of his normal hello. He’s stressed, the kind of stressed I’ve only heard him be when Emma was involved.
“Is she okay?” I demand, muscles locking down instantly.
“Yeah, Em’s fine, but we went out to get a jump on chores before you got home, and I just found a cattle pen empty of cattle. I was about to drive down to make sure the front gate is latched.”
“The gate’s closed. Are you sure the herd aren’t on the far side of the hill? Sometimes they pack in tight by the clump of firs to get out of the wind. You might not see them unless you hike up there.”
I let myself through the gate, locking it behind me, and listen to Guy’s breathing deepen. My guess is he’s hustling to the top of the hill, not an easy feat through knee-deep snowdrifts.
“No, I don’t see them. I don’t see any fencing pushed over either—” He breaks off and lets out a low curse. “Sen, the gate to the pass is open. The small one. Could a cow get through?”
“A whole herd could get through if they wanted. It’s why I keep it double latched.”
I normally don’t drive on the lane very fast, but this time, I push my foot to the accelerator a little harder. When I park out front, I can see Emma playing at the kitchen table through the window. I give her a wave, then hurry around to where Guy is pacing on the porch.
The expression on his face is strained, and he’s clearly upset. “I don’t know what happened.” Guilt and self-recrimination fill his voice. “I’ve never even used that gate.”
“Stay with Emma,” I say as I give him a brief hug. “I’ll check it out.”
I start up the ATV and drive around the barn, out toward the cattle pen. Sure enough, my cows are gone. I don’t understand what happened because I distinctly remember double-checking the gate as Guy and I rode in today. Yet there it is, wide open, with all my income gone up the mountain. At least the newly fallen snow makes their trail easier to find. Even a herd as small as mine leaves a substantial swath of tracks. I check the gate for signs of damage, but it’s not only fine, the little backup chain is hooked properly to keep it held open. Then I notice a different set of tracks in the snow by the gate.
Very cute little snow boots with stars on the treads make those kinds of tracks, with Barley-sized paw prints right next to them. Partners in crime.
I return to the house, and Guy’s still on the porch, looking even more distressed. I hate what I’m about to ask him. “I noticed some boot prints by the gate. Was Emma over there this afternoon?”
“Yeah, when I was cleaning stalls. She was playing with Barley outside the barn, and I told her not to go any farther because the gate was within eyesight. When I was done, she came back, and we went inside the house to get warmed up. I never went to double-check the gate.” Guy sounds panicked as he closes his eyes. “Sienna, I never checked the gate.”
“I wouldn’t have either. She likes to build little snow people over there, and she knows not to open it.”
Guy looks sick as he turns back to the house. “I’ll go ask her.”
I catch his hand. “Take a beat first. Deep breath, then relax, because she picks up on you being upset. The cattle are out, there’s no changing it, and I don’t want her afraid of being around the animals because of this.”
Guy nods, then he turns back to me. He loops his arms around my waist, taking a slow, steadying breath. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks. I needed that. I can’t upset her just because I’m stressed.”
“We’re a team,” I tell him, hugging him back. “I can go talk to her if you need a minute.”
“No, I’m okay. Let’s go ask Em.”
She’s moved from playing at the table to playing on the couch when we go inside. We leave our dirty boots in the mudroom but don’t change. When Guy sits down on the couch next to her, Emma doesn’t look at him, choosing instead to focus on the Frosty the Snowman toy in her hands.
“Emma, I need to talk to you. Did you let the cows out of the pen?” Guy asks.
Emma shifts uncomfortably, and she’s holding on to Barley’s coat with her little hand, not meeting either of our eyes. It takes her a moment before she says, “Yes.”
Guy must have been hoping we were wrong, because he exhales heavily. “Emma, you know not to open the cow and horse pens. Why did you do it, baby girl?”
“They wanted the food on the other side.” Her face gets this frustrated look. “They should get to eat what they want.”
“Did you do it because you didn’t get to eat ice cream at the block party?”
She still won’t look at him, and tears start to gleam in her eyes, even as she stubbornly fights them back as she plays. I settle down to the floor next to the couch so we’re not both looking down at her.
“Emma? It’s okay to get disappointed when you don’t get what you want. I do. Your daddy does too. It’s okay for the cows to be disappointed too.”
“Daddy gives you milk.”
Guy starts to say something, but I glance at him, silently asking him to let me answer. He nods, then leans back on his hands.
“I’m new to your family, Emma,” I tell her. “Just like you and your daddy learned which hay to feed the horses, I’m learning what foods not to keep in the house. I’m sorry I drink milk when you can’t. If it bothers you, then I won’t do it anymore.”
“Milk is bad for us,” she says determinedly.
“No, Emma.” Guy smooths his hand over his daughter’s head, then he hugs her, the child almost disappearing beneath his arm. “Milk is bad for you . It’s not bad for me and Sienna. There are going to be a lot of people in your life who might get to eat or drink or try things you want. But it’s important to know what’s not good for you, baby girl.”
When she sniffles, burying her nose in his rib cage, it breaks my heart.
“There have been things I thought I wanted, but they weren’t good for me,” I tell her softly. “Your daddy is helping me learn that. I’m like you, sweetie pie. We’re a little stubborn when we think we’re right. Unfortunately, you can’t let the cows or horses out without an adult. There’s too much that can hurt them, like too much food or bad weather or predators. Part of living here means taking care of them, even if they want something they can’t have.”
Emma turns red-rimmed eyes to me. “Did I hurt the cows?”
I don’t have an answer for her, not until I go get the herd. “I’m going to go see if I can find them, and hopefully they will be fine.”
“They won’t come back like the horsies?”
“No, baby. They’ve gone up into the mountains. When cattle wander away, they don’t usually come back by themselves.”
Emma glances down at the dog resting his head on her lap, staring up at her with sad eyes. Barley always was good with crying women. “Barley will get them back,” she decides. “He can do anything. Daddy can help.”
I look at the aging retriever, his white muzzle barely speckled with red. If I drag him up this mountain in December to try to work the whole herd, I’m not going to have a Barley dog left coming back down. Barley’s a good boy, the best boy, but he’s not enough. And it’s one thing to take a new rider on a trail Legs is familiar with, but it’s another to take Guy out into the mountains in the dead of winter. He doesn’t know how to work cattle, and this is a bad time to learn.
“Sienna, I am so sorry.” Guy puts a hand on my shoulder, and his voice sounds devastated. “This is all my fault. How do I make this right? I’ll do anything you need.”
I stand up and head to the window, looking out at the mountains rising above us in the distance. It’s too late to go after them now. We’re already losing light. Unfortunately, as cold as it is, it’s only going to get colder tonight and tomorrow. Without the donkeys with them, the calves are more at risk for hungry predators, but I’m the most worried about the weather. Bad visibility in bad country means serious falls for animals and people alike. My stomach twists, but I know what I need to do. This isn’t about any of us. It’s about getting those cattle back safely. There’s only one other person who knows this dangerous landscape as well as me.
“Guy,” I tell him quietly. “Neither of us will like this, but there’s something I have to do.”