Homecoming Ranch (37 page)

Stephen laughed. He stepped behind her and caught the door, holding it so she could go through. “I don’t know about buffalo.”

“It’s good,” she said. “Tougher than beef. But I wouldn’t recommend a steak there.”

Stephen gave her a funny smile. “You’ve gotten all mountain-y on me.”

Madeline considered that a compliment.

“It’s cute,” he said. “I like it.” He put his hand on the small of her back to lead her out the door. Madeline felt uncomfortable, but then again, she always had with Stephen.

At the Stakeout, they settled in at a table and Stephen ordered wine. He seemed happy with himself, as if they were on a date. “I
drove by the DiNapoli place,” he said. “They were moving the statues.”

“Oh?” Bree hadn’t told her that, and Madeline hadn’t asked. She didn’t have her list of things to check off, didn’t have a schedule of all the things that needed to be done. She was flying naked as far as her job went, gone far too long to keep a handle on everything. “I need to get back in the next few days and wrap that up,” Madeline said, more to herself than to him.

“Bree said that a woman called looking for the agent who sold the DiNapoli house. Apparently she’s got a dog of a house, too.” He laughed.

New shiny listings was exactly what she had hoped would happen if she sold the DiNapoli place, not ugly ones. Still, Madeline didn’t care. That seemed so shallow, so unimportant compared to the hurt she’d caused here.

“Bree said she’d tried to get hold of you to let you know, but she was having a hard time reaching you.”

“Cell phone reception,” Madeline said listlessly.

The waiter brought the wine, poured it for them. Stephen swirled it around in his glass, then gingerly tasted it. Madeline watched him and thought about Luke, the way he popped the tops off beer bottles. She’d discovered she liked beer. She wished she’d had a chance to order one tonight.

Stephen nodded, and the waiter poured wine for the two of them.

“So,” Stephen said when the wine had been poured. “Now that it looks as if we have this place sold, when are you coming back to Orlando?”

Madeline thought about how best to answer him. Her hesitation seemed to make Stephen a little nervous because he said, “You’ve had a great little vacation, right? A great experience. But your life is in Orlando, isn’t it? Don’t you want to get back to it now that you know Bree is holding a listing for you?”

“I do,” Madeline said, and that was true. She had built her life there, brick by brick. She’d worked so hard to make it in real estate. She’d bought a cute condo in Winter Park, and she felt just on the verge of
really making it, all on her own. But that all seemed so meaningless tonight. It
wasn’t
meaningless, she told herself. Maybe empty.

Madeline pushed away the wine and signaled the waiter.

“Is something wrong?” Stephen asked.

“Yes,” she said calmly. To the waiter she said, “I’d like a beer.”

“What kind?”

“Any kind. In a bottle, though. I like it in bottles.”

The waiter arched a brow. “I’ve got a microbrew you might like.”

“
Great
,” Madeline said, although she had no idea what a microbrew was. “Bring it.”

Stephen smiled. “You should have said something,” he said, gesturing to her wine. “We could have had beer.”

She thought of Libby out at Homecoming Ranch by herself, and how hard she’d worked to make the ranch ready for the Johnsons, who were, if everything went according to plan, having a bonfire tonight. Libby was right—Madeline had been self-centered and fearful.

“Trudi said you might need a little nudge,” he said with a chuckle. “I can tell you really like the people here.”

Trudi
. Her rock, her best friend. Madeline had relied on her so much that Trudi was now calling the shots.

“Madeline, what is it? You seem distracted.”

She’d known from the first date Stephen wasn’t her type, and yet she had allowed him and Trudi to persuade her. She had agreed with Trudi that her reluctance with Stephen had to do with
her
insecurities and fears, but sitting at the Stakeout, Madeline didn’t know if that was true. She thought it was more likely that it was much simpler than that: Stephen was not the one.

“Madeline?” he asked, and sipped his wine.

“I’m a little distracted,” she admitted. “The thing is, I’m coming home just as soon as the reunion is over. But…”

Stephen’s smile faded. He put down his glass. “Here we go,” he muttered.

Madeline took a deep breath. “But I can’t come back to you, Stephen,” she said. “I don’t… I don’t feel that way about you.” There. She had said it as plainly as she could.

Stephen frowned thoughtfully, as if they were playing a little game. “I know that you’ve had a rough life and it makes it hard for you to trust—”

“No, wait,” she said, and held her hand up. “Listen, I love Trudi. She has been the one constant in my life. But she is not me, Stephen. She thinks she understands me, she thinks she is in my head. But she’s not. It’s not that I am fearful of what will happen. It’s that I don’t
feel
that way about you.”

He sank back into his chair, staring at her. He clenched his jaw and looked away, his hand curling around the wineglass so tightly she feared it would snap in two.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He looked at her as he sat up and reached in his back pocket. “I guess I should thank you for being honest,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind that I don’t thank you, at least not right now. I just did you an enormous favor, Madeline.”

“Not really,” she said with an apologetic wince. “Actually, you caused a lot of trouble showing up like that.”

Stephen glared at her. “Great. You’re welcome for bringing you help and potential buyers.” He pulled out some bills and threw them down on the table. “I’m sure Jim and Chip will do whatever you need them to do with the ranch. I’m headed to Aspen first thing in the morning.”

Madeline swallowed.

Stephen stood up. He began to walk away, but he paused and looked back at her. “We’re not going to see each other again, Madeline,” he said. “But I hope you don’t throw away all that you’ve worked to achieve to be in this little town. There’s so much more to life than this.”

“Actually,” she said, holding up a finger, “my
life
may be in Orlando. But I’ve lived more in the three weeks I’ve been here than I did all twenty-nine years I spent in Florida.”

Stephen rolled his eyes and strode out. Madeline felt bad for him. And sorry that she hadn’t said this to him a long time ago. But she also felt lighter than she had all day.

And now, she had to talk to Luke. Madeline waited until she was sure Stephen was gone, and then she stood, up, too. The waiter looked
confused. “Something came up,” she said, and walked out, the keys to the Pontiac in her hand.

She was nervous when she turned on to Elm Street and saw that lights were on. Luke’s Bronco was not in sight, but she could at least tell someone she’d come by. Maybe she could say hi to Leo, try that silly game video again. Madeline parked in front of the house, gripped the enormous steering wheel of the Pontiac and rested her forehead against it.

Her life had not prepared her for these moments, but for once in her damn life, Madeline was determined to tell Luke how she felt. She had to, if only for herself. She had been transformed by her time in the mountains. Part of her had been illuminated, and Madeline didn’t particularly like what she’d seen: a coward. A closed-off, emotionally drained woman who hid behind tasks and schedules and anxiety. But there were other parts, stronger parts, that she did not intend to lose. So she would say what she needed to say, and if Luke didn’t feel the same way, well… she would cross that bridge then.

She made herself open the door of the car. She made herself get out and walk through the gate. She was committed then, and quickened her step, jogging up the two steps to the porch. She opened the screen and knocked loudly, and steeled herself, her chin up when she heard the footfall of someone coming to the door.

As it swung open, Madeline smiled brightly. Until she noticed how puffy Marisol’s eyes were. “Marisol!” she exclaimed. “Are you all right?”

She shook her head. “Leo. He is in the hospital.”

Madeline stopped breathing for a moment. “The
hospital
?”

“A seizure. A very bad seizure.”

Nausea began to spiral in Madeline. “Where? Here? Is there a hospital in Pine River?”

“No, no, Durango. They all go to Durango.”

Madeline looked wildly about. She had no idea where Durango was. “Is there something I can do to help?” she asked, her mind racing. “I could take them some things if they need them, I have the Pontiac. Tell me what I can do to help.”

“Julie, she takes their things. She’s gone already with their things. You cannot help now. Now, we wait.”

Madeline’s heart sank to her toes. She stepped back from the door. “I am so sorry, Marisol. I hope everything is okay. You don’t know how much I hope everything is okay.”

Marisol nodded, but she was already pulling the door closed.

“I’m so sorry,” Madeline said again, bending to one side as Marisol waved to her around the door and shut it.

Madeline stood there a long moment, staring at the door in something of a daze. Her mind was whirling with fear for Leo, with pain for Luke and his family. And with regret.
So much goddamn regret
.

She finally turned around and walked back to the Pontiac.

I didn’t die if that’s what you think.

I gave everyone a good scare, though, because according to Dad, my seizure was worse than normal. I don’t remember a thing about it, except waking up and looking into the big brown Bambi eyes of Tiffany, my favorite nurse. It was sort of like waking up in the middle of a bunch of vestal virgins. Which, I should point out, is not all it’s cracked up to be, according to PBS and their great series on the Romans.

Tiffany totally ruined the fantasy by telling me I had a seizure and that yes, she was married and happily so. Man, give a guy a break! I’m going to demand only single nurses from here on out.

But here is the interesting part about my seizure—who do you think showed up with overnight kits for Dad and Luke? (Dad and Luke, by the way, clearly thought this was It, the big Swan Song, seeing as how they were both racked out in my room when Tiffany brought me back to the land of the living). Anyway, who showed up but Julie Daugherty! I was surprised, and I was
super
happy she didn’t bring The Stinker. She leaned over and whispered to Luke, and he sat up and said thanks, and then he looked at me. He said, “Leo,” in this cracking voice, and I said, “Oh man, don’t get all weepy eyed on me
now,
Luke.”

C’est la vie
. There was a lot of carrying on about my not-so-miraculous recovery, and Dad got especially verklempt, and put his head on my leg and he cried, actually
cried
, and then everyone was talking and laughing nervously like, whew, it didn’t happen
yet,
and I was thinking, sheesh, tonight is the start of the new season of
Survivor
, so could we move this along a little?

The doctor came in and he said, “Well, I hate to tell you this, but Leo is going to be okay for now.” Everyone’s a comedian these days.

He said, “We’ve got a new seizure medicine that we think will work very well, given your symptoms. And we are also going to increase your intake of blah blah blah-di blah.” Because everyone knows I am not taking enough medicine, right? I didn’t really listen to much until he said, “But I think, if you remain stable, we can let you go home in twenty-four hours.”

I was hoping that balloons would drop out of the ceiling and a naked Tiffany would bust out of a cake, but of course that didn’t happen. But what
did
happen is that Dad asked if he could speak to the doctor outside, and Luke said, “Julie, can I talk to you?” And he put his hand on her elbow like they were a couple and led her out. And he didn’t come back for a really, really long time. So long that Dad finally agreed to go down and find me something to eat besides gruel, which is what they serve you in hospitals if they think you can’t swallow.

I was lying there, minding my own business, wishing Julie had brought “Hounds of Hell” because hospital TV is
boring
and here comes Luke, and I swear, he looked worse than me. I said, “So what’s going on? Are you and Julie getting together? Am I going to have to put up with The Stinker pulling out tubes and messing with my TV?”

Luke gave me one of those looks and said, “I guess the seizure made you completely crazy, and not just half-assed crazy.
No,
we are not going to be a couple. In fact, I just told her it wasn’t going to happen and to quit bugging me about it.” That’s not exactly what he said, but I reserve the right to paraphrase if necessary.

Anyway, bottom line is that he dumped her once and for all. Let me tell you, if I could sit up, I would have hugged him. But instead I said, “Oh, do
tell.”

Luke said that he told her that he couldn’t go backward, he could only go forward, which of course I took to mean Blue Eyes, and I said so, but Luke shook his head and said, “Stay out of it, Leo. She’s got issues. Anyway, I need to get back to Denver. I mean, assuming you’re okay. I’ve got houses to finish.”

Between you and me, I would be the last person to tell Luke not to go back to Denver, because I mean, what’s worse than that, asking someone to stay behind because you can’t even pee by yourself, you know? Still, I was kind of hoping he’d stay. I like having him around. I know he and Dad argue a lot, but they argue about big important stuff, like what’s going to happen with the ranch. I know he’s got the house thing going, and he worked really hard to get his degree. So I said, “Great! Those houses won’t build themselves, you know.” Just like Dad.

And he said, “No, they won’t. I figure it’s even more important now, because the lawyer says that without some divine miracle or some great compassionate concession by the heirs, we can kiss Homecoming Ranch good-bye.”