Late the next afternoon, Joey came out of her father's hospital room and found Cole leaning against the wall, waiting for her. With quickened breath, she took a good, long look at him, from the tips of his polished boots, up past the close fitting trousers and jacket of his tan Western-cut suit, to the blue shirt and string tie. He swung a creamy dress Stetson from one finger. His face was clean shaven and when she took a step closer to him, she detected the faint whiff of menthol aftershave. With his dark hair neatly combed and an expectant smile on his face, he looked like a cowpoke come a'courting.
"Oh my," she murmured. "Don't you clean up nice."
Unexpectedly, he flushed. She found it endearing and smiled. "What's the occasion?"
"I'm taking you to dinner. We didn't do much, uh, dating, so I'm taking care of it now."
Her smile grew. She looked down at her outfit, drawing Cole's gaze with hers, and then back up at his fascinated expression. "I should change, but I'm running out of clothes."
"You look beautiful." He reached out to touch the shoulder of her emerald jumpsuit, gathering the soft folds of it between his fingers, then released enough fabric to tickle the side of her neck with her long earring. "Horsehoes?"
"Montana copper. I found them in the hospital's gift shop. I thought you'd like them."
He looked pleased. "You bought them for me?"
"Yup," she said, imitating him.
He said nothing, but she felt his satisfaction. "Do we have a few minutes?"
"Sure."
"Would you like to meet my father?"
"Is he up to having visitors?"
"Yes. They'll be moving him to a regular hospital room tomorrow."
"That's good."
Joey saw him square his shoulders as she turned to push the door open and smiled.
"Poppa? I'd like you to meet a...friend. This is Cole Lassiter."
Frank Carpenter's voice was stronger than he looked. "So, this is the man Marie's been telling me about."
Joey and Cole exchanged a surprised look.
Cole moved to the bed, hand extended. "Oh?"
The two men shook hands. Joey watched nervously, waiting for her father's reaction. Waiting for her husband's response. Poppa looked much better, more like his old self, salt and pepper hair neatly brushed off his forehead, green eyes sparkling and a grin lurking at his mouth.
"So. You're the fellow who's been helping my girls. I'm grateful to you."
Joey relaxed and perched a hip on the end of Frank's bed. Cole stepped back a pace. "My pleasure."
"Heard your boy was in here, too."
Cole recounted the circumstances. "He's home now, terrorizing the hands. Thinks he can ramrod the operation from bed. It makes him impatient that he can't get around yet."
"Didn't you say you're short-handed, Cole?" Joey asked.
He swung his glance to her. It warmed appreciably, as did his voice, when he answered. "I went into Bozeman this morning to look for a temporary foreman. Give Sam a hand."
"Your ranch near here?" Frank cut in.
"Yup. Southeast of here."
"How big?"
Embarrassed that her father was grilling Cole, yet too interested to interrupt, Joey flicked a glance at Cole. He settled back into the visitor's chair, one ankle resting on his other knee, apparently ready to discuss ranch life all night.
Cole rattled off acreage, the number of cattle he owned, pasturage and feed and grain prices. Joey listened open-mouth.
"It's always high risk," Cole said. "The good news is that cattle-growing in other parts of the country, particularly the Midwest states, is dropping off. Demand for choice beef isn't going down any. Well, maybe a little," he added with a grin for Joey.
Joey grinned back.
Frank ignored the by-play. "You don't raise any crops?"
"Sure. It's too expensive to buy feed for winter feeding. I produce my own hay, corn and a few other crops, mostly for our own use."
"Lot of work," Frank commented.
"Twenty-four hours a day, every day of the year."
"How can you take any time off, then?" Joey asked, wondering how he'd been able to spend all this time with her.
Cole gave her a private look, then grinned. "I manage. It's been hard, though, with Sam laid up."
"How long will that be?"
"Dunno. Depends on how he responds to therapy. How he heals."
Joey slid off the bed. "We'd better be going, Cole. Poppa needs his rest."
Frank swore under his breath. "That's all I do. Come see me again, Lassiter. Good to talk to a man who isn't wearing a white coat."
Cole laughed. "Sure thing, Frank. Take care."
Joey leaned over to kiss her father. "See you tomorrow."
Once out in the hall, Cole took her elbow and steered her to the exit. "I like your father."
"He likes you, too."
"That so? Didn't mind putting me through my paces, though. You sure your mother hasn't said anything to him?"
Joey slowed. "I asked her not to. Do you think she did?"
"Dunno. Does it really matter?"
Chewing on her bottom lip gave her no answers. "I don't want him upset."
"Looked fine to me."
"He did, didn't he?" Joey agreed, her tone thoughtful.
Cole took her to the same restaurant. This time, though, there was no fumbles with the menu. He ordered his usual, and fish for her. When it came, they ate absent-mindedly, thoughts more on each other than on their meal.
"So, how did it go?" she asked.
He gave her a questioning look.
"I mean, hiring a foreman. Did you find someone you like?"
"No luck. Sam and I will have to go on handling things ourselves. It just means that I'll have to do more of his job. Maybe he can pick up on mine."
"How?"
"I do the paperwork. Accounting, managing, sales. That sort of thing. It's mostly computerized. Sam handles the outside work."
"Oh." It didn't sound at all like her childhood dreams of life on the ranch in which cowboys roamed the range, living under the big blue sky, but she supposed to be successful, a ranch also had to be up-to-date business-wise. The theory wasn't that much different from the landscaping business she had built with Tom.
"Did I say something wrong?"
She brought her attention back to Cole. "Why do you ask?"
"You looked sad just then. Kinda far away."
"No, it's nothing. Just thinking."
"About us?"
She heard the wariness in his voice and was glad to be able to answer honestly. "No."
"Okay, then. So long as that isn't what's making you sad. Have you had a chance to think about us?"
As if she'd done anything but! She looked around the restaurant, and seeing no one within hearing distance, she smiled. "All day long."
"And?"
"And nothing yet."
His face fell. "Damn. Well, we've still got time."
"Six days, but who's counting?"
He grinned. "That obvious?"
"Tell me more about your wife, Cole."
His grin faded. "Why do you want to know?"
"You tell me about Sally, I'll tell you about Tom." Seeing his reluctance, she added earnestly, "We're carrying a lot of emotional baggage from before. It makes us the way we are. Don't you think we ought to know these things about each other if we're going to make a go of our marriage?"
He toyed with his coffee cup. "Okay." Having said that, he took his time gathering his thoughts. "I can't remember a time when I didn't know Sally. All through school, but it wasn't until senior high that we started going together." He smiled. "At first, I wasn't sure it was me or the excitement of seeing the rodeo circuit. But she knew. Whether I won or lost, it didn't seem to matter to her. She made everything right. We were married sooner than expected, what with Sam on the way, but it didn't make a difference. We didn't have much, but we enjoyed...ah, hell, Joey. Do I have to do this?"
"You still love her, don't you, Cole?"
He looked over her shoulder, refusing to meet her eyes. "I never stopped," he admitted. After a beat, he looked at her. "But I swear, Joey, that doesn't take anything away from what I feel for you."
Joey dealt with the pain inside her by closing her eyes and focusing on nothing until she could control her emotions. Together with Cole's pain and unstated loneliness, it all merged to create an insurmountable wall between them.
"Joey?"
She opened her eyes to his worried look. "Joey. It was a long time ago."
After a moment, she could ask, "How did she die?"
Cole stared at his hands for a long time. "She had a growth. She didn't pay any attention to it. By the time she did, it was too late. She died."
"Cancer?" she asked over the huge lump in her throat.
He nodded. "She didn't have to die. That's the hardest part."
She brushed his hand with the tips of her fingers. "I know."
"I was furious with her." His fingers gripped hers. "Oh god, Joey, that was the worst. So angry and she wasn't there to make it better."
"I know. You get so mad at them for dying. Leaving you alone."
"You, too?"
"Oh, yes. When Tom died, I was furious, too How could he die like that, without saying good-bye."
"Like getting kicked in the teeth, isn't it?"
"I felt betrayed," she admitted. "As if he'd done it to cheat me out of all the years to come."
"Betrayed," he echoed, his mouth thinning. His eyes went hard and cold for a moment. She knew there was more he wasn't saying. How deep did his anger go? Had he gotten past it, or, heaven forbid, did it still fester?
He swallowed, then as if by an effort of will, he turned his attention back to her. "How did it happen?"
"Tom was on a job. He just keeled over. There was nothing anyone could do for him." She sighed. "At least it was quick."
"Heart, huh? No wonder you've been so upset about your father."
"Yeah."
She bit her lip and took a chance. "Have you forgiven her for dying yet, Cole?"
"Forgiven her!" he echoed. His Adam's apple worked as he ground out, "There's nothing to forgive. She couldn't help dying."
Joey knew she'd found his hot button. She should stop, but something drove her on. If they had any chance of succeeding at their own marriage, they had to put away their personal ghosts. She chose her words carefully. "If she had taken care of that growth earlier, gotten help, she might have survived. It's only natural to be angry with her for not taking care of herself."
"That's ridiculous."
"Is it? I can understand how you'd feel deserted. I did. Tom couldn't help dying anymore than Sally could, but I was angry with him for a long time. I was angry that he didn't take better care of his health." She hesitated, then admitted in a low voice, "I was angry with myself for not making sure he took care of himself."
When Cole said nothing, she probed, "Are you angry with yourself, too?"
Her answer was a dark stare. Joey ventured, "Did you talk with her about it before she died?"
"I don't think that's any of your business." His voice was cold and stark.
"I see," she murmured and she did. The rage in it was a palpable thing, still hurting after all these years. It explained a lot, but if he never forgave Sally, how could he ever accept anyone in her place? How could he accept her?
For all his talk of making this marriage work, he was deliberately doing the one thing that would derail it fast. He wouldn't let her into his life. It followed that he'd never trust her, either.
She forced a tiny smile to cover the growing ache inside. "Couple of walking wounded, aren't we?"
He seemed glad to change the subject. "How did you meet him?"
"At the beach. He came up from Southern California to go to UCSC, that's the University of California at Santa Cruz. He thought he'd be a marine biologist."
"And?"
"We spent so much time on the beach, he flunked out. By then we were married, Ellen was in diapers."
His look turned censorious.
She noted that. "Actually, it was the best thing. He'd had a part time job in a local nursery, so he went full-time. He could work around his surfing." At Cole's startled look, she added, "He was so good the owner was glad to have him. From that, we started our own business."
"What?"
"Landscaping. He had a flair for it, you know? He knew plants. They loved him."
He made a sound of disbelief.
"No, I mean it. He'd talk to a drooping, dying plant, maybe stroke a leaf, and before you know it, that little plant would be blooming its heart out for him."
"Yeah, sure."
"Don't believe it if you don't want to. But with his talents, it was a natural. We took some night courses, design, business accounting, that sort of thing, and before we knew it, we had more clients than we could manage. We had to hire more crews. It just grew."
"Who's running it for you while you're here?"
"I sold it four months ago."
"Why did you sell? When it meant so much to you?"
"I couldn't face it without Tom."
After a few moments, he nodded. "I know that feeling, but the ranch was all I had. After my father died, Sally and I had such plans for it. Then, when she wasn't there to share them, I worked til I dropped. I forgot everything but the ranch."
"And Sam?" she prompted.
"And Sam. What do you do with your time, now?"
She smiled in self-derision. How could she tell him about the mindless days, the shopping trips to buy herself a whole new image, the make-overs, the hours in the beauty salon to create a new look? "Nothing much."
"Your kids don't keep you busy?"
"They don't need me much anymore. Ellen's got a good job. I think she's been staying at home to keep me company, but one of these days, she'll get tired of the commute and move over to Sunnyvale."
"Where's that?"
"We live in Santa Cruz. That's on the Pacific side. She works in Sunnyvale, that's at the southern end of San Francisco bay, more than forty miles away."
"Oh. Makes sense that she'd want to move closer to work then."
"I guess so."
"Sounds like you don't really think so."
"I tell myself that it's what she should do, but I hate to see her go."
"She's an adult. She needs to live her own life."
Joey nodded. Cole was right, but she hated to lose Ellen. She wanted all her loved ones close by, close enough to reach out and touch, to make sure they were all right. She didn't want to take any chances with them. If that made her an over-protective mother, tough.
"How about your boy?"
Joey started, took a minute to catch her thoughts. "Greg's a surfer, too. Just like his Dad. But Tom managed to keep him in line, while I...well, it hasn't been easy since Tom died. Greg misses him a lot."
He nodded. "Sam cried himself to sleep for years. He tried to hide it, but I could hear him."
Joey suspected that both Lassiter men had cried themselves to sleep. "It's hard, isn't it?"
"Yup. There comes a time, though, Joey, when you have to let go. Keep on just because you're the one left."
"I know," she said softly, keeping her tears at bay only through a force of will. Then changing the subject, she said brightly, "Tell me about Sam. And his wife. Billie?"
"Betty. They met in college, married the day after they graduated. They live in the main house with me, but as soon as they start having kids, I imagine they'll want to use the other house."
"Two houses?"
He nodded. "Nothing unusual in that. One is the foreman's house. I lived there with Sally until my Dad died, then moved over. Tradition, I guess."
It sounded strange to her, but it wasn't her tradition. "What does Betty do?"
"She keeps the house going. Looks after Sam and me."
Her mouth turned down at that.
Cole noticed. "What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing, I guess, if that what she wants to do, but it seems a waste."
"Why? Someone's got to do it."
"And Betty's elected, right?"
"Well for damn sure I can't spare any of the hands to do it. What do they know about curtains and stuff?"
She bit back a retort. If the situation worked for the Lassiters, who was she to get involved? She may be a Lassiter, too, if only by name, but that still didn't make it any of her business.
With a forced smile, she dabbed at her lips with her napkin. "Shall we go?"
"Not yet. We have something to settle."
"I still have six days left, Cole," she reminded him.
He sensed her withdrawal, but didn't let it stop him. If she thought it was necessary to probe into their past, then it was equally important to know about their present. And their future. "I agreed to give you a week, Joey, and I'll keep to that. But I need something to go on, honey. I know I'm pushing here. You're fighting me on it, but I have to know something. Will you answer one question?"
Her eyes widened. For a moment, he was distracted, losing himself in their emerald depths, wanting her. Then he pulled himself together and ignored the fire in his groin. "Do we have anything going for us?"
At her look, he continued, "Other than that. We're not kids. We both know that sex can be extraordinarily good when it's nothing more than physical."
She nodded again.
"But I want more than that. I think you do, too. Do we have a hope in hell of getting it?"
"I thought you didn't want to replace Sally?"
"What's that got to do with us?"
If he didn't know, she couldn't tell him. "I don't know what to say, Cole."
"Tell me what's going on inside you. You can do that much, can't you? Hell, honey, help a man out."
he ran a hand through her curls. Tempted to tell him how drawn she was to him, how strongly attracted to him she felt, she sensed he didn't want to hear, maybe wouldn't ever be ready to hear that. The rejection stung.
She searched for the right explanation. "When we first met, I saw something in you that I'd never seen in anyone else," she said slowly, knowing she could tell him this much.
At his raised eyebrow, she went on, "I saw a man who wasn't afraid to get involved, to help a stranger. You had no reason to stick around, to comfort me, but you did. It meant a lot to me," she admitted.
He stretched his neck as if uncomfortable with her words. "Don't make me out to be something I'm not, Joey."
"I don't think I'm doing that. I see you—-strong, determined, sure of what you want. I admire that. I wish I could be as sure of things. You're appreciated and respected here, no, you are. I see how people look up to you. How they talk to you, ask for your opinion. You're important in Dillon, Cole."
"That's got nothing to do with us."
"It does. I wouldn't make my decision based on what other people think of you, but it helps to know that they share my opinion. You're a good man, Cole."
He reddened and started to speak.
She waved his words aside. "Not that you're perfect," she said, and pointed a finger at him. "You're old-fashioned in a lot of ways. You're opinionated, overbearing and you won't take 'no' for an answer. You're becoming too protective and you think you know better than anyone what's good for them." She could make this diagnosis easily. She could have been describing her father or Tom.
He winced. She lowered her finger to tap his hand. "But underneath it all, I know you want to do the right thing. You're making it very hard for me to think of anything but you."
He captured her bright pink-tipped finger with his fist. "That's what I want to hear. Tell me more."
"Oh, no you don't." She pulled her hand away. "I'm not giving you any more ammunition to use against me. Come on, take me home."
Cole drove silently back to the RV. Only one light showed, back in Marie's bedroom. He helped Joey out of his truck and backed her into the shadows. Their kiss was long, hungry and not enough for either one of them.
"Are you going to invite me in?"
She summoned up every ounce of will power. "No."
"Why not?"
"You know why."
He chuckled. "Because there's no room. Because you make so much noise when I'm loving you?"
She felt her cheeks burn, felt the heat pool deep inside her. "That's part of it."
"What's the rest?"
"I want to make my decision logically. With my head, not my body."
He pressed into her. His erection strained against her, long and hard and hot. His breath came harsher. "You're telling me you can ignore the way we feel?"
"You're pushing me again, Cole."
"Yeah. I like it. I like the way you feel. Remember how it was when you came out of the shower?"
"Don't--"
"Come home with me."
"No."
"Then let's find a motel," he whispered against her lips while his large hands caressed her breasts.
"N—o," she moaned "Please don't use sex against me. I can't think when you do that."
He drew back so quickly she almost fell. "All right. You don't want me touching you, you got it."
Ready for the next chapter?
Chapter Twelve -- posted December 25, 1997
Last updated: January 4, 1998