One Mother Wanted. Jeanne Allan
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Allie my aunt.”
“Whose mommy?” Zane’s daughter asked.
“I don’t have any children,” Allie said stiffly.
“How come? They playing with angels?”
“Let’s go, Hannah,” Zane said in a rough voice.
“But Daddy, maybe her kids know Mommy.”
Zane snatched up his daughter and walked away.
A hand gripped Allie’s shoulder. “You okay?” Worth asked.
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
“Davy said you looked funny.”
“Davy thinks I look funny every time he sees me in a dress,” Allie said to her brother, trying to make a joke of it. “He says I look like a girl.” She mimicked the disgusted tone of Davy’s voice. “He wants me in jeans because I promised him we’d ride horses after the wedding. Where’d Davy go? He was in such a hurry to leave.”
“Last minute hugs and kisses from the bride and groom.”
Loud voices caught Allie’s attention. “They must be leav...” Her voice died as she spotted the cause of the commotion.
Zane’s daughter was throwing a grade-A tantrum in her father’s arms. Hanging on to her bouquet with one hand, she used her other hand to cling to one of the stylized metal Art Nouveau pillars. Zane’s face turned the shade of cooked beets as onlookers tittered with laughter. The child drummed his side with her feet. “I want down,” she howled.
Setting his daughter on the floor, Zane grabbed in vain for her hand as she darted across the ballroom. The little girl skidded to a stop in front of Allie, still kneeling on the floor. Throwing her arms around Allie’s neck, Zane’s daughter pressed an enthusiastic kiss on Allie’s cheek. “Bye.” The little girl spun around and dashed back to her father, her childish voice floating across the ballroom. “I had to tell Allie bye.”
The rest of his life without Allie. How long must he pay? Hadn’t he been punished enough? Zane had had five long years to think about the answers to those questions. No punishment, no matter how severe or how long, could wipe out what he’d done. Allie’s face when he’d told her would forever haunt him.
He’d thought he’d reconciled himself to the devastation he’d wrought. Accepted that Allie would never be part of his life. The minute he saw her at Cheyenne’s wedding, he knew he’d been deluding himself.
The crazy idea came to him on the way home from the wedding. There must have been too much sugar in the wedding cake. Or else the smell of those damned flowers had rotted his brain.
For about the hundredth time, Zane picked up the telephone. And put it back down. If he drank, he’d pour himself a huge glass of courage. Except he no longer drank alcohol, and no one knew better than he that drinking made a man stupid, not brave.
At the wedding reception, Allie had avoided looking at him. Not that he was any great shakes to look at. An ordinary guy with black hair and a square jaw. Allie had never seemed to mind the ridiculous dent in his chin.
Smart about everything else, Allie had been stupid when it came to him. Stupid enough to love him. She wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for his pitiful scheme. She wouldn’t believe it for a second. She wouldn’t do it.
He’d searched long and diligently for the right horse.
Zane rubbed one thumb over the other and eyed the phone. Think about the filly. Damn it, even if he’d royally screwed up his life, the filly deserved help. He’d call.
Allie would hang up on him.
Angrily he pushed the phone aside and rose. Allie roamed through his mind the way she used to roam around his family’s ranch. At the uncurtained window, he stared into the black night. Nights were the worst. Thinking about Allie. Remembering. Little things. Like the way she stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth when she concentrated. He used to tease her that one day she’d be on a horse, concentrating, and the horse would buck and she’d bite off the end of her tongue.
His body tensed with need. He wanted to nibble that tongue. Gently. Lovingly.
He’d thrown away that privilege. Thrown away love.
Horses moving in the home pasture caught his eye. The filly would be in the middle. She never let herself get isolated. The other horses were her protection. She didn’t trust men.
Allie could teach the filly to trust.
If he didn’t call, Allie couldn’t help the filly. He started to turn toward the phone, then stopped.
If he didn’t call, Allie couldn’t say no. There was no reason for her to say yes and too many reasons for her to say no. If she said no...
Zane couldn’t remember when he hadn’t known Allie. At first she was merely one of Worth’s sisters. Then she’d turned sixteen, and he found himself falling in love with her. On Allie’s eighteenth birthday he asked her to marry him.
Allie’s mom asked them to wait. Mary Lassiter had married young. Beau Lassiter had been a rodeo cowboy, long on looks and charm, short on character. Beau had left Mary on her parents’ ranch when she became pregnant with Worth. After that, Mary stayed on the ranch while Beau rode the rodeo circuit. Whenever a bull stove him up, Beau would head to the ranch where Mary nursed him back to health. Then Beau returned to the bright lights, alone. More often than not, he left Mary pregnant.
With the help of her widowed father, Yancy Nichols, Mary had raised four kids. Greeley not even hers. No one ever heard a word of complaint from Mary. When Mary asked them to wait, Zane assumed she wanted Allie to be sure. Later he wondered if she’d seen something of Beau in him.
He was nothing like Beau Lassiter.
Hearing the lie, Zane felt like smashing his fist through the window.
He wanted to blame Beau for what happened. Beau, whose irresponsible behavior had rushed his children into adulthood. Six years older than Allie, Zane had often told her she needed to lighten up, to live a little, but she’d been inflexible, and intolerant with youthful high spirits in others. In him.
No. He wouldn’t make excuses. The sole responsibility for what had happened belonged to one person. Zane Peters.
He shouldn’t have gone to Cheyenne’s wedding, but the temptation to see Allie, to speak to her, had been overwhelming. Watching her stand tall and slim beside her sister as Cheyenne said her vows, he’d ached to touch her. When he’d seen her smile at Hannah, he’d craved one of her smiles.
One look at her face told him she hadn’t forgiven him. If not for Hannah, he would have left.
She’d been kind to Hannah.
His daughter had rattled on about Allie all the way home. Zane had lost count of the things he regretted, but he’d never regretted Hannah. It wasn’t Hannah’s fault Allie hated him. He knew who to blame.
So did Allie. Allie would never blame Hannah, because she loved kids and animals.
She’d help the filly. Allie hated him, but she’d help the filly. And then, maybe... Taking a deep breath, Zane dialed.
At the sound of her voice, intense longing swept over him. He couldn’t speak.
Allie had polished the kitchen and bathroom, cleaned the cat box and walked Moonie so long the greyhound had practically sighed with relief when they’d returned to the condo. She’d washed windows, done her laundry, baked a loaf of bread and caught up on filing for C & A Enterprises, the small, specialized tour agency she and Cheyenne owned and operated. The night stretched endlessly before her.
She should have stayed in Hope Valley at the Double Nickel, the family ranch named for her great-great-grandparents. Or persuaded Davy to stay