look around the corner. Just do what comes next.
The words that had gotten her through the past few years of her life came back to her, but now, in the cozy warmth of her parents’ house, they seemed empty. Devoid of the comfort they usually brought her.
“So will you be able to stay until the bridal shower?” Keira asked.
It wasn’t too hard to see the sparkle in her eyes and hear the hope in her voice.
“I don’t have much choice,” Heather said, realizing how reluctant she sounded. She pinned a bright smile on her face, then glanced again at John, who was still watching her. He seemed as thrilled about the idea of her staying the extra time as she was.
“I better get going,” he said, setting his mug on the counter. “I’ll feed the cows, Monty. You stay and visit.”
Then he turned and left.
* * *
Heather watched him stride away, his broad shoulders giving him an air of control. He had changed since she’d last seen him, become more reserved. This was not the warm, loving John she remembered.
The distance between them was wider than Judith Basin County. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her. She had no intention of taking up where she and John had left off. Both of them had moved far away from that one happy time in her life.
You made your choice when you ignored his advice and went with Mitch to New York.
Past choices melded with present circumstances and she knew that her life was, to some degree, of her own making.
She dragged her attention back to her family, who were all watching her as if waiting to see what she was going to do next.
“I need to make another call,” she said. “Can I use the phone in the study?” she asked her father, needing some privacy.
“You go ahead, my dear,” he said, waving her on.
“And I should get going,” Keira said, getting up, as well. “I’ll be at my workshop,” she told Heather. “Come on by and we can make some shower plans.”
“Of course,” Heather said, thankful that her sister was happy with the situation. She turned to her father. “Are you okay to watch Adana?”
“Alice should be finished soon helping your mother get ready for the day. I think I can manage until then,” he said with a grin.
Heather returned his smile, then left. As she closed the door of her father’s office behind her, she shut off the sound of conversation that had started up again. She leaned against the door a moment, trying to suppress the panic slowly gaining momentum in her mind.
She couldn’t afford a huge repair bill. She couldn’t afford to be late for this interview.
She stopped herself. Don’t borrow trouble, her father always used to say. So she sat in his large leather chair and with trembling fingers pulled up the information from her cell phone, then made the call.
Very quickly she was put through to Michelle Pearson, the manager she hoped to be working for.
“Good morning, Michelle,” Heather said, pulling out her “so happy to see you” attitude and hoping that would generate a positive tone in her voice. In previous conversations they’d chatted about the industry, traded small talk, discussed fashion trends, but right now she just wanted to cut to the heart of the matter. “I’m sorry to tell you that I had an accident. I’m fine but my car isn’t. And it won’t be fixed in time for me to arrive in Seattle when I said I would.”
“Oh. I see.” The silence that followed that comment held a heaviness that weighed on Heather. “That changes things. We needed someone quite soon. And we interviewed our second prospect yesterday. My partner was very excited about her, so if you can’t come for a week, we may hire her instead.”
Disappointment sat like a rock in Heather’s stomach. She wanted to protest that they should at least give her a try, but how could she when she couldn’t make the scheduled interview?
“We will, of course, reimburse your travel expenses,” Michelle added. “Just send me the details of your mileage and associated costs and we can cover those for you.”
That was a help, but not much. “Thanks. I’ll do that,” Heather managed to choke out, feeling the usual burst of shame at the thought that she would probably follow through on collecting even that small amount of money. “And thank you for the opportunity.”
“If anything comes up that we think you would be suited for, we’ll give you a call,” Michelle said brightly, but Heather suspected her promise was more polite than actual. “As a former model, you have a view on the industry that I’m sure we could utilize sometime.”
Former model. All part of a very ragged résumé.
Former barrel racer. Former college student. Former wife.
Heather said a polite goodbye, hung up the phone and leaned back in her father’s chair, turning it to face the window, giving herself a moment to pull together the tatters of her life. From here she could look out over the summer pasture and then to the hills beyond, rolling up to the mountains that edged the basin. She had ridden those hills with Keira, Lee and John, and knew most every knoll, valley and crevice. The life she’d lived here was like a wash of light in the darkness of her years with an abusive natural mother and her time with Mitch.
Help me, Lord.
The prayer spilled out of her as she swung back and forth in the chair. Then she caught her sad reflection in the office window. She lifted her chin and pushed herself erect. Though she wasn’t born one, she’d been raised a Bannister. Life didn’t push a Bannister down.
As she stood, she caught sight of John walking across the yard. Once again she felt the regrets of the past slip into the present.
If only she hadn’t gone away to school. If only she’d listened to him. If only she hadn’t broken up with him. If only she had told him the truth about why she’d wanted to work for Mitch.
As if he sensed her thoughts, John looked back over his shoulder at the house. Heather lifted her hand to touch the window as if to make a connection with him.
Then he seemed to shake his head, shove his hands in his pockets and keep walking.
Heather squared her own shoulders and turned away from the window. She had other things to deal with.
When she came back to the dining room, she walked over to where her mother sat.
“How are you feeling?” Heather asked her as she bent over to give her a kiss.
“Much better. I slept well.”
“I’m so glad.” Heather glanced over at Alice. “And good morning to you, Alice,” she said to the older woman, sitting with a cup of coffee in front of her, feeding Adana bits of her muffin. “Good to see you again.”
“Welcome home. I was sorry to hear about your car, but glad that you’re okay.”
“Thank
