It was early Thursday morning, and he and Zach had already had breakfast. Just toast and coffee, but it would be enough. They’d been up late with all the calving last night, but, thankfully, Faith had set aside dinner.

  “Sounds like he’s seriously interested,” Kane said. His father was asking a hefty price for the Tall Timber Ranch. If someone was coming all the way out for that price tag, they were interested. “That’s sooner than we thought. So, what is the priority before he comes?”

  Zack stroked his chin looking thoughtful. “We could put some new paint on the barn, and the machine shed is a mess. It’s where I put all the odds and ends I don’t know what to do with.”

  Kane caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Faith standing in the doorway.

  “You have a buyer already?” she asked.

  It wasn’t hard to hear the disappointment in her voice. Kane felt the urge rise up in him to do something to comfort her. But it wasn’t his place. This was his father’s decision. He had no say in the matter.

  “Potential buyer,” Zach corrected. “Coming next week to have a look.”

  Faith gestured toward the bedroom. “The kids are still sleeping. I think the horse rides yesterday tired them out.”

  Kane hated the idea of sending Hope and Cash to this Irma Tunney lady, but with the need to get the ranch ready to show, it was more necessary than ever.

  And there was still no word from Tricia. He was really beginning to worry for her safety.

  “When did you want to leave to take them to Irma?” Faith asked Zach.

  “Oh, I’m taking you,” Kane said. “We’ll drop the kids off, and then I’ll drive you to Calgary. I have some errands to run in the city anyway. So, I was thinking we leave around noon. That way, we could give the kids an early lunch, and they won’t be so cranky when we arrive at Irma’s.”

  “That sounds good,” Faith said, but her face said otherwise. Something was bothering her. Maybe it was dropping off the kids. Maybe it was him driving her to Calgary. Whatever it was, Kane didn’t have time to navigate it. He just wanted this day to be over.

  “I better move then,” he said, pushing back from the table. “I have a list of things to get done before we leave.”

  Out at the corrals, Joe was already waiting for him. “You look grumpy,” the ranch hand said. “I don’t suppose that has anything to do with your girlfriend leaving.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” Kane snapped.

  Joe released a disbelieving laugh. “I’ve seen how you two look at each other. You can’t tell me there’s nothing happening. I’m not blind.”

  “Nothing to see, nothing to hear, nothing to talk about.” Kane slashed the air with his hand as if cutting off the conversation.

  “Sure. You keep saying that,” Joe said with a shrug, shoving his hands in the pockets of his oversized pants. Kane brushed past him and Joe followed behind, unfazed by Kane’s angry outburst. “But I’m not blind.” Joe kept pushing. “I can’t believe you’re letting her walk out of your life again.”

  “Not a lot I can do about it,” Kane said, “even if I wanted to, which I don’t.” He needed to change the subject. Joe was as persistent as a badger. Once he got his teeth into something, he wouldn’t let go until he had worked it to death. “We’ve got to go through the machine shed today. Floyd is bringing a potential buyer next week.”

  “Buyer? Since when?”

  Kane figured dangling that tidbit in front of Joe would distract him from the Faith track.

  “Since the real estate agent called this morning.”

  Kane ignored Joe’s surprise, marching to the machine shed. When he opened it, he let out a low whistle and shook his head in dismay. Zach hadn’t been lying when he’d said it was a mess. It was beyond that. It looked like someone had picked up a used vehicle lot and dumped it right into the small building. He and Joe were staring at days, maybe weeks, of work.

  He could just leave it for the new owner to deal with. But that might impact the price his dad got for the ranch. He owed it to Zach to help him get the best deal possible.

  “Fire up the tractor and let’s get started,” he told Joe, thankful he had something to keep himself busy—something to distract him from the fact that Faith was leaving today, and he would be the one driving her away. Again.

  He was pouring sweat by the time they came to a stopping point. The sun was beating down, and he had taken his shirt off and hung it on a nearby post. Joe had done the same.

  Kane wiped his face with his handkerchief, shoved it in his pocket, and positioned his cowboy hat back on his head as he surveyed what they had accomplished.

  “Not bad,” Joe said. “And you can sell all this scrap metal.”

  Kane glanced at the pile Joe was referring to. It wouldn’t make much, but it might cover the cost of hauling all the other stuff.

  “Kane?” Faith’s voice spun him around and made his stupid heart beat faster. “Will you be ready to go soon?”

  She stood in front of him, her dark hair shining and curled, flowing over her shoulders. She wore a white dress, her arms bare. She looked amazing.

  Joe’s quick intake of breath told Kane he wasn’t the only one who appreciated the affect.

  “We were just finishing up here,” Kane said, grabbing his shirt and slipping it on as he gave her a quick smile. “Then I was hoping for a quick shower before we leave. Do I still have time?”

  All she did was give a tight nod, then she whirled around and strode away. Was she angry with him? He glanced at his watch. They were supposed to leave at noon, and it was only eleven-thirty. Kane gave Joe a puzzled glance, then followed her to the house.

  The twins sat at the table with Zach, munching on some carrot sticks. He muttered a quick hello, then strode down the hall to his bedroom.

  Ten minutes later, he wore clean clothes and his hair was brushed but still damp.

  Faith was waiting in the kitchen, wiping the kids’ faces.

  “We're bringing you to a lady who is taking care of you this afternoon,” Faith said. Her voice sounded strained, and Kane guessed this wasn’t easy for her.

  “No lady,” Hope said dropping her chin on her chest with a pout. “Wanna ride horse.”

  “You’ll only be there for a little while,” Zach assured her. “And when you get back, you can have another horse ride.”

  That seemed to mollify her, but Kane could tell she was still leery about going to Irma’s.

  “I packed a bag for them,” Faith was saying, “and the car seats are already in the truck.”

  “And your stuff?”

  “It’s out there too.”

  “Guess we’re all ready then,” he said with a forced smile.

  She said nothing to that as she lifted Hope off the chair.

  The kids were all cleaned up, their hair brushed, and their clothes all neat and tidy.

  “Goodbye, my dear,” Zach said, getting up. “Thanks so much for all your help. We couldn’t have done this without you.”

  Faith gave him a tight smile, then moved in for a hug.

  Zach held her close but looked at Kane over her shoulder, a sad look on his face. Hey, it wasn’t his fault she was leaving. Not this time.

  Kane shrugged at his father, then picked up Cash, and walked to the porch. He grabbed a clean cowboy hat, opened the door, and stepped out. He didn’t even bother to see if Faith was behind him. He wanted to get this done.

  They got the kids buckled in, working as a team. Then Kane lifted Faith’s suitcase and dropped it in the back. Her guitar was inside the truck already, parked between the kids’ car seats. Precious cargo, he thought, as he got into the driver’s seat.

  The trip to town was quiet, the kids content to look out the window. Kane thought of the last time he and Faith had driven to town with the kids. It seemed like ages ago, instead of only a few days.

  Kane turned the radio on to fill the silence. A twangy country tune came on, and he saw Faith tapping her fingers on her knee in time to the music. She was quietly singing along.

  He forced his attention back to the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel. It was going to be a long drive.

  When they arrived at Irma Tunney’s, she was waiting at the door of her tiny first-floor apartment, three dogs yapping at her heels.

  Faith, Kane, the kids, and all their stuff managed to squeeze in without letting the dogs out, but it was a challenge.

  “They don’t have any food allergies that I know of,” Faith said as she handed Irma their bag. “They’ve already had lunch, but they could use a nap.”

  Irma nodded, glancing down at the children. She was a heavyset woman, her graying hair chopped short. She wore yoga pants with hopeful optimism, and a T-shirt that proclaimed that she had been to the Grand Canyon. A pair of Crocs finished the look.

  All that would have been fine with Faith. She wasn’t one to judge by appearances. But it was the permanent frown on the woman’s face that gave her misgivings. That and the fact that the three dogs hadn’t stopped barking since they’d arrived.

  “Do they mind sharing a bed for their nap?” Irma asked, her arms still folded over her ample chest.

  “No, they’ve been sharing a bed at the ranch too.”

  “We sleep with Faith,” Hope offered.

  Irma’s frown deepened at that. “I hope they don’t expect me to do that?”

  “No, no,” Faith assured her. “It was only a temporary thing, until they got settled.” She didn’t know why she felt she had to justify herself to this woman. She just seemed so disapproving.

  “Well then, let’s get them in bed, so they can have their nap,” Irma said. She reached out for their hands, but Hope clung to Faith’s hand and Cash to Kane’s. They didn’t seem willing to let go.

  “I don’t wike dogs,” Hope said with an emphatic note in her voice.

  Irma crouched down, her dogs milling around her. “These are friendly dogs,” she said, giving Hope a genuine smile. She stroked one dog and lifted it up to show the little girl. “This dog’s name is Alfie. He likes little children a lot.”

  As if to prove this, Alfie leaned in and licked Hope’s face. The girl giggled, and Faith felt the tension ease from her shoulders. This would be okay. The kids would be okay.

  Hope released her death grip on Faith’s hand and reached out to stroke Alfie. Cash, encouraged by her actions, did the same.

  “This might be a good time to leave,” Irma said to Faith without looking at her.

  Faith bit her lip, looking down at the children. Her heart trembled, overcome with another wave of regret. She felt like she was abandoning these children. Bending down, she brushed a quick kiss over Hope’s soft cheek. Then did the same with Cash.

  “You be good for Mrs. Irma,” she said, not knowing what else to say.

  Goodbye? Have a good life? Hope your mom is okay?

  Faith quickly pushed herself to her feet. Then, before she changed her mind about everything, she spun around and strode out the apartment door.

  When she got to the truck, the tears came. Drawing in a shuddering breath, she dug in her backpack for a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. She hadn’t spent twenty minutes putting on makeup only to have it smeared. Nor did she want Kane to see her crying.

  Thankfully, he was still inside, and by the time he made it to the truck, she’d pulled herself together.

  But when Kane climbed in and looked at her, she saw in his eyes the pain she felt. “I think they’ll be okay,” she said. “Did they cry when you left?”

  He shook his head. “Thank goodness, no. And Irma, she seems all right.” But Faith heard a note of reservation in his voice. “Though she asked me to pay her for today in advance. And speaking of that…” He reached in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “I looked at the going rate for live-in nannies, and here’s what we owe you.” He reached out and handed her a large wad of bills.

  “Oh, no.” She shook her head and tried to hand it back. “This is too much.”

  “How do you know?” he asked. “You haven’t even counted it.”

  “Because it wasn’t hard work. I loved caring for them. I would have done it for free.”

  “Yeah, well, you earned that,” Kane insisted, ignoring her outstretched hand as he started up the truck. “We’re not taking it back.”

  Faith looked down at the money in her hands. She didn’t want to count it in front of Kane. That felt greedy or rude. But she certainly could use the cash for when she got to Calgary. Stacy might front her the rent, but Faith still had to eat. She slipped the bills in her pocket. She’d count it later. It felt weird for Kane to pay her, though. Like she was just another employee, like Joe the ranch hand.

  He closed the door, and as he walked around the front of the truck, Faith’s eyes followed him. Imprinted on her brain was the picture of him this morning—no shirt, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on the muscles of his chest and arms. He’d always been well-built, but the last couple of years working on the oil rigs had really filled him out.

  Faith clasped her hands tightly together, looking down at them and trying to think of anything but Kane without his shirt. She was moving on. He was not for her.

  Kane had started the truck, but they were still sitting in the parking lot of Irma’s apartment complex. His eyes drifted to her door. “Where will they play?” he asked forlornly.

  “There’s a park down the road,” Faith said, trying to sound hopeful. “Maybe she’ll take them there.”

  Kane nodded, but Faith could see he didn’t quite believe her. Still, he put the truck in gear and pulled away. They sat in silence for a few miles and then he said, “I’m worried about Tricia. She wouldn’t just leave her kids. I mean, I know things got rough after the accident, but people don’t change that much, do they?”

  “Trauma does weird things to people,” Faith said, speaking for more than Tricia.

  “And Elliot? You think it messed him up bad too?”

  Faith was surprised he’d asked. Elliot was such a touchy subject between them.

  “He didn’t talk much about it,” Faith admitted. “And then he left. But, yeah, I think he was struggling.”

  “And you and he—you never…?”

  “No,” Faith shook her head. “I know what he told you that night, but we were never like that.”

  “So what happened after you left?”

  Faith was surprised that he asked. But part of her wanted to clarify the events of that evening. “That night we drove to a motel. I stayed with Clarise, one of the backup singers, and he bunked with Frank. He was lead guitar. Not that you’d remember.”

  “No. I wouldn’t remember. They weren’t on my radar that night.”

  Faith knew what he meant. Her, kissing Elliott, was exactly what was on his mind.

  “I hope you believe me when I tell you, there was nothing between me and Elliott. He came with me because he wanted to make sure I would be okay.”

  “I believe you.” Kane gave her a gentle smile. “I was a bit blinded by what I’d seen that night—so when he defended you and what you wanted to do, I just assumed you knew, and that it was mutual.”

  Faith nodded. It wasn’t an apology, but it was as close as he’d ever come.

  Kane turned his attention back to the road, slowing down as he came to the intersection that led to the highway. As they drove up the hill leading out of town, Faith turned back, looking at Rockyview one last time.

  “Imprinting it on your memory?” Kane asked.

  “Something like that,” Faith said. In reality, she’d been thinking about her grandfather and how she was leaving so much unresolved with him. The things Zach had told her had explained a lot, but she still wasn’t sure how to span the chasm that lay between her and Mick Howard.

  Kane tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, then glanced at the guitar tucked behind her seat. “You really are a talented musician,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t understand that before, when we were together.”

  And there was the apology she’d been waiting on for two years, dropped like a bomb in the middle of the truck cab.

  Faith didn’t know what to do. Or how to react. What did it even mean that he was apologizing now when they were on their way to drop her off in Calgary? It was easy to apologize when you were about to say goodbye to someone for good. Because he wouldn’t have to follow that apology up with any real action, would he? He wouldn’t have to live a life that supported her music or confront his fears of her becoming like his mother. He could just say sorry and goodbye.

  “Faith,” he said, reaching out and taking her hand in his, “I know that apology is way too late. I should have been a better man for you. That is something I will always regret.”

  Faith felt a ball of tears rise and choke her. She couldn’t cry right now, or she would never stop crying. So, instead, she undid her seat belt, moved closer to Kane, and pressed a soft kiss to his stubbly cheek.

  He gave a swift intake of breath. Then he squeezed her hand, lifted it to his lips, and gently kissed the back of her fingers.

  For a moment, time stood still, her fingers to his lips, their pain and history wiped clean.

  But only for a moment.

  Then he let her hand go, Faith moved back to her seat, and they drove in silence toward Calgary.

  Chapter 14

  So that wasn’t the smartest thing to do.

  Kane looked over at Faith, but she glanced away, peering out the window. The silence was heavy with tension and unspoken feelings. Why had she kissed him like that? Last time they had parted, it had been amidst anger and yelling. Maybe this time they just both wanted it to be different. Better.

  But as soon as his lips had touched her hand, he’d wanted more. He wanted to kiss her on the lips, harder, more urgently. He knew they were shifting back to their old roles, giving in to the old attraction, and he didn’t care. That’s what his body was saying. But his heart and mind knew that things had changed. They weren’t who they had been, to themselves or each other. What could he offer her now that he wouldn’t have the ranch? Long sweaty days of him off in the oil patch. What kind of life was that? Besides, he sensed a deep sorrow in Faith, hidden away. Something she was guarding very carefully that she might never trust him with.

 

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