“That doesn’t tell me what Jorgen was like.”
“Sounds stupid, but Jorgen was the type who collected life experiences and checked them off her life list and moved on.”
“Meaning?”
“She had a list of things she wanted to accomplish. Live in Europe. Check. Get a graduate degree. Check. Live on the rez with indigenous people. Check. Have a child.
Check. Live in the desert. Check. Live in the mountains. Check. Live by the ocean.
Check. Work in a cowboy bar. Check. Work in a casino. Check. Work on a cruise ship.
Check. She went where she wanted to go, did what she wanted to do and didn’t care about anybody else.”
“Including Macie?”
“I suspect that’s the case. Macie doesn’t wanna talk about her childhood too much. I don’t know if it’s to spare my feelin’s ’cause I wasn’t around or because they ain’t the best memories for her.” Thinking about poor little Macie fending for herself made his gut clench and his heart hurt. “I know Jorgen loved Macie, as much as Jorgen could love anyone.”
“Did you love Jorgen?”
“No.”
“Still, you were so young when all that happened. I’m surprised you never married and had more kids.”
“After the shit I’ve told you, you think I’d subject a kid to havin’ me as a father?” Or a woman who’d want me as a husband. He didn’t say it, he just shifted his weight on the hard cement. “What about you and Steve?”
“What about us?”
“You never had kids. On purpose?”
“We would’ve welcomed a baby. Just didn’t happen. And Steve was old-fashioned.
He didn’t want fertility tests to figure out the problem. Nor did he warm to the idea of adoption. I know some folks look at me with pity because I’m childless. But you can’t miss what you’ve never had.”
“True. What would you do if you ended up pregnant now?”
Gemma choked. “What? Lord, Cash, I’m forty-eight—”
“You ain’t been through menopause yet, have you?”
“No. Have the symptoms, though.”
“Don’t matter. My unci had her last baby when she was fifty-one. She thought it was menopause. So, I guess that means we’d better make sure we’re usin’ condoms, much as I hate it.”
“I hate it too but I guess you’re right.”
Darkness had fallen. The yard light clicked on. Pretty soon bugs would be out in full force. Cash was tired of talking. Spilling his guts hadn’t alleviated the ache in his heart or his head. Gemma seemed to sense his mood change.
She smoothed his hair away from his face. “How’s your head?”
“Still hurts.”
“Want me to keep going?”
“Nah. Thanks for the offer though. I think I might just pop a couple aspirin and crawl in bed.” He stood and grabbed his empty beer bottle. “Probably be best if I slept in the guest bedroom tonight so I don’t disturb you.”
“But that’s not necessary—”
“’Night, Gem.”
He didn’t look back. He couldn’t take her look of pity.
And he knew she wasn’t ready to see what he couldn’t hide in his eyes.
Chapter Sixteen
Headlights swept the windows above the sink. Water splashed in the mud puddles and the red taillights disappeared.
Macie was back.
Gemma didn’t move from the kitchen table where she’d been working on the ranch books. She glanced at the clock. Cash had been in bed for two hours. She’d resisted checking on him, more worried she’d find him awake and avoiding her than sleeping off his headache.
Things had taken a strange turn today. Not only because he’d f**ked her senseless in the barn, but because he’d opened up to her. She suspected he was filled with regret about showing her that tender side of himself and the guilt he carried.
Did Macie know? Did she care?
How did Gemma reconcile wanting to be with Cash outside of the workday, when she knew he felt guilty that he wasn’t spending that time with his daughter?
She jumped at the four solid knocks on the glass window of the screen door. She said, “Come in,” and Macie slipped inside and hesitated by the wall.
“Hey, Gemma. How’s it going?”
“Good. How are you?”
“Okay.” She glanced at the doorway to the living room. “Umm. Is my dad around?”
“Yeah. But he had a bad headache and he’s in bed.”
Macie’s eyes filled with concern. “Is he all right?”
“I hope so.” Gemma expected Macie to say a quick goodbye and disappear back to the camper. It surprised her when Macie pulled out a chair and plopped down.
“Is he mad at me?”
“Why would he be mad at you?”
“Because he and I were supposed to go horseback riding tonight. I fell asleep at Carter’s. When I woke up it was already dark.”
Ah. No wonder Cash acted so melancholy. “He didn’t act like he was mad. Maybe a little disappointed.”
“Crap. I never meant…I just lost track of time.” Macie sighed. “Story of my life.
Story of our life actually. Seems like our plans are always interrupted.”
Macie left her as good an opening as any to broach the subject. “Does it bother you that your dad is here working for me rather than hitting the backroads with you? That was your plan, right?”
“Yeah, but I’d never put any stock into it beyond getting to hang out with him. We talk on the phone at least once a week, but it’s not the same. It’s been a rough year for him.”
“How so?”
“Realizing he’s too old to rodeo fulltime. Having to take shit jobs just to make ends meet.” She shot Gemma a sheepish look. “No offense intended.”
“None taken.” Gemma sipped her cold coffee. “What about you? Are you taking a shit job just to hang out here?”
Macie grinned. “No. I was thrilled to find work in a restaurant. Mucking out stalls would be my idea of a shit job.”
“You working a lot?”
“We’ll see. I think Velma is testing me. Or punishing me. I’m waitressing some. I’d rather be in the kitchen.” She pointed to Gemma’s cup. “Got any more coffee?”
“In the pot.”
She stood. “You want a reheat?”
“Sure.”
Gemma watched while Macie made herself completely at home. It was weird to think this beautiful young woman was Cash’s daughter. It was probably equally weird for Macie to sit down with her father’s boss.