surprised to see Shannon there, a blanket clutched around her, stroking Lady’s neck with tentative fingers. He cleared his throat so as not to startle her.
She jumped, shooting a guilty look at him. “The baby is sleeping.”
“They do that from time to time, I hear.”
Shannon’s long fingers made trails in Lady’s coat.
“You always wanted me to learn to ride.”
Pushed her to, as a matter of fact. Softly insistent, as was his way. The quietest bull in the china shop. “Shouldn’t have pressed.”
“Well, what self-respecting resident of Gold Bar doesn’t know how to ride a horse, right?” Her tone was bitter, brows drawn when she turned to him. “I never fit in here, no matter how much you wanted me to.”
“You could have, if you slowed down for a hot minute and gave it a chance.”
He expected anger. The tremble of her lip surprised him. “I can’t slow down, Jack. Not ever. I wish I could, but unless I’m in high gear, I feel like a failure.” She rested her forehead on the fence, and the surrender in it broke his heart.
He moved closer, reaching out toward her slender shoulders, the craving strong. Something told him his touch would not be welcome. Not anymore. He froze, and she straightened and strode back into the house, posture hunched.
Stroking Lady’s neck, he watched Shannon go, sorrow knifing him swiftly and mercilessly for all the ways they’d failed each other.
* * *
Shannon dreaded explaining the whole bizarre situation to her mother, but it had to be better than staying with the Thorns, who were polite, in spite of everything. She phoned the hospital to learn that T.J. was still in a coma. The Tide remained at his bedside, minus Cruiser, according to the night nurse. Since Evie was still laundering baby clothes, and Jack had a trailer full of newly arrived horses to unload, it was not until the afternoon that they left for the Gold Nugget Inn. By that time, Shannon was about ready to commandeer the keys and drive herself.
Her mother, Hazel, swathed in a checkered apron, met them in the lovely front parlor of the Gold Nugget Inn, which was mercifully empty of guests. She limped up on her cane, and Shannon felt a stab of guilt that she had not been able to visit more. Each visit left her riddled with guilt at leaving her mother, who’d lost her leg to diabetes. But Hazel would not tolerate the merest suggestion that Shannon should take any time off to tend to her, nor hire extra help at the Inn.
“You gotta fly, honey,” she’d said. “You were born to do it.”
Now tears coursed down Hazel’s plump cheeks, and her uncle, Oscar, kept scratching his white beard in puzzlement as the three followed Hazel and Oscar to the empty dining room and closed the glass-paned doors.
“You’re married?” Hazel wiped her eyes.
Shannon heard Jack let out a breath. “Technically, yes, but nothing has changed. We just haven’t gotten a divorce yet. We’re pretending we’re Annabell’s parents to protect Dina, until she can find her brother. Officer Larraby knows the truth, and the Thorns. We need you to keep the secret. There are very bad people looking for the baby.”
Her mother shook her head. “I always dreamed about you getting married, Shannon, but this...” She shrugged, and Shannon realized how much their hasty action, and the concealment of it, had cost their families.
I’ll get married someday, she wanted to say. When I meet the right person. But the words felt wrong in her mouth.
“We’ll do whatever you need, of course. I’m so happy to have you here.” Her eyes riveted on Annabell. “May I hold her?”
Shannon handed the infant to her mother, who wore an expression of such rapture, it made Shannon squirm.
“Is it okay if we stay here? Just for a few days?”
“Of course it is,” her mother said, eyes glued to the baby’s every movement. “We’ll put you in the Garden Room. No one is in the Night’s Stay Room, either, so you can use that if you need extra space for the baby’s things.”
Shannon had always loved the Night’s Stay Room, which adjoined the larger Garden Room. In the 1850s, customers would sometimes pay for their lodging with a pouch full of gold dust, and Hazel had discovered, in the old attic, a genuine brass scale, complete with weights. How many times had Shannon sneaked into that room when it wasn’t rented out, fascinated by the mechanism that analyzed so precisely, neatly measured value? She loved the precision of it—no ambiguity, unlike every other part of life.
Oscar fidgeted. “Sure, sure. That’ll do. Slow season before summer arrives. We got a room for you, Shannon, but, uh, well...”
Shannon frowned. “What is it, Uncle Oscar? You’ve never been any good at beating around the bush.”
“Uh, I get it that you’re trying to convince folks you’re married and raising a baby and all, but it doesn’t seem proper...”
Shannon finally got it, and a flood of heat went to her cheeks. Jack wore a pained expression.
“He can bunk with me,” Oscar said. “It’s right across from yours, on the top floor.”
“It’s not necessary...” she started, but how exactly were they supposed to carry on the happy family facade with her staying at the inn and him at the Gold Bar? She swallowed. “It’s only for a little while, until we locate Dina’s brother.”
“Sure, sure,” Oscar said.
“I’ll rock the baby for a while, shall I?” her mother said.
Just don’t get used to it, Mom, she wanted to say. I’m not back together with Jack, and there are no babies in our future. But it tugged at her heart to consider how much she’d disappointed the woman who’d been her only true champion. I’ll do better, Mom.
A frown crossed her mother’s face. “Honey, I just remembered something. I got a phone call yesterday afternoon. Someone who said they were your friend and they’d heard you were home for a visit. They wanted to chat with you.”
Her stomach dropped. “Who?”
“They didn’t give a name. Someone with a real raspy voice.”
“What did you tell them?”
“I...I told them you were coming soon. I’m sorry.” She frowned. “Was that bad?”
“It’s okay. You didn’t know. Did he or she leave a number?”
“No, and the ancient rotary phone we have here doesn’t show recent callers or anything fancy like that. All I can tell you is it was a local call.”
“Local?” Jack frowned.
She nodded. “I have to press a button to accept if it’s a long-distance call. Like I said, ancient technology.”
“Mason’s still in Los Angeles,” Shannon said. “As far as I know, and it couldn’t be Cruiser.”
