Snow Melts in Spring (24 page)

FORTY-FIVE

GIL PLAYED OVER THE SCENE OF FRANK’S DEATH AND THE INCIDENTS leading up to Gil’s betrayal. How could he admit such detestable sins to the woman he loved? But with what she now knew, how could he not? He prayed God would grant Mattie an understanding heart able to forgive.

“I want you to know you’ve changed my life.” He clasped her shoulders, fully expecting her to shrug his hands off. She didn’t, and he found encouragement in this. “When I returned to Diamond Falls, I wanted to put an end to the pain that haunted me so I could go on with my life. I thought that meant trying to restore a relationship with Dad — visiting him, repairing the ranch. I hoped that would be enough. But it’s not.

“My past still troubles me — it comes to me in my dreams. I want it to go away. I’ve prayed for peace. It’s like a scab that grows bigger when you pick it, and I’ve been picking it for twenty years now.” Gil twisted one of Mattie’s ringlets around his finger, needing the slightest comfort.

Mattie caught his hand in hers and stilled it. “I don’t understand. Is this about Jenna?”

“Yes, and no.” He allowed the lock to slip from his finger. “It’s mostly about Frank.” He turned from her and leaned against the tailgate, unable to look her in the eyes. Instead, he stared at the distant treetops outlined in black against the faint moonlight and forced himself to continue.

“I’ve told you how Frank was good at everything — the apple of my dad’s eye. What I didn’t mention was how jealous and tormented this made me. We both liked to rope — he roped better. We both rode horses — Frank had better instincts. We both liked girls, but girls liked him more, and his favorite girl was Jenna.

“I worked hard to outrope, outride, and outwin the girls. I failed on all counts, until one night when Frank and his friends wanted to go to the rodeo grounds and drink some beer. I sensed Jenna’s frustration at hanging out with the guys and suggested she stay with me and go for a swim in the creek. The humid August temperature had all of us sweating like dogs, and Frank didn’t suspect a thing. I told him we’d meet them at the rodeo grounds once we’d cooled off.”

Gil cleared his throat, afraid if he stopped, he might not finish. The cool night air sank into his skin, and he closed his eyes, allowing it to calm him. He refused to go into detail about what happened with Jenna, not willing to hurt Mattie any more than he had to. However, she needed to know the rest of the story.

“I set the scene and one thing led to the next. Jenna and I both knew what we were doing, and we did it anyway. Then we heard the sirens.”

Mattie gasped, and he went on undeterred. “We followed the flashing lights to the accident, and that’s where I found my dead brother and held him in my arms,” Gil choked out the words. His eyes stung from the memory. “I betrayed my brother — not by accident but by a willful act — and in so doing, I failed to take care of him. I might have prevented their deaths. It could have been me driving. If I’d been with him instead of with your sister, I’d have kept the truck from rolling — from crushing them.”

He stepped away from the tailgate, away from Mattie’s scrutiny. It killed him to admit this to her, to know that she might condemn him, that he would no longer be a hero.

Not even close.

Mattie followed Gil and gently placed her hand on his back. No words were spoken, but he could imagine what she thought. How could she forgive him — trust him with her heart? If their relationship had been difficult before, it now approached disaster.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered against his shirt. “Does your father know?”

Gil closed his eyes. Of course not. How could he admit to the man he wanted to impress the most that he’d killed his oldest son? His pride and joy. Killed him and betrayed him all in one night. “He knows Jenna and I found them in the ditch. After Frank’s death, I tried to continue high school rodeo as a single contestant. I rode hard and fast and took my anger out on the calves, ruthlessly flanking them to the ground with pleasure. But even that grew old and couldn’t relieve my pain.

“I distanced myself from my family and the things I loved. I turned my attention to football, and there I found release for my anger. Dad never understood, and I never tried to explain. We drifted so far apart over the years that he couldn’t even call me when he had a heart attack in December.”

Mattie stepped around to face him. “Why do you think he called you when Dusty had his accident?”

Gil shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe on some level he wanted to fulfill his fatherly duty.”

“Maybe it was an attempt to get back what you once shared,” she said earnestly. “Frank might have held a special place in your dad’s heart, but he loved you too. Still does, or he wouldn’t bite so hard.”

“Where does this leave us, Mattie? I know I have no right to ask . . . but can you forgive me? Can we go on as though none of this happened? Or has it caused too much damage?”

Mattie turned away. “I don’t know, Gil.”

Desperation swelled inside his chest at the possibility of losing her. He couldn’t allow that to happen.

Tell her. Tell her how you feel.

“When I came here, I didn’t have much to look forward to. My career in football was over. I had no one to share my retirement with. No wife, no family. No place to call home. I tried to compensate by putting my energy into buying an estate where I could raise horses and regain part of my past that once gave me joy. I didn’t realize how empty this dream was until I began imagining my future — without you.”

He spun her around. “I had no idea how much I loved you until tonight, when I thought I’d lost you. Tell me I’m wrong, Mattie. That we still have a chance.”

Even in the shadowy night, he could see her tears. He tried to pull her to his chest, but rather than be comforted, she pushed away.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear those words?” Her voice roared. “For you to say you love me — want me as more than a veterinarian to your horses?” She poked him in the chest, reminding him of the day he first met and fell for her spunk.

“You decide to tell me
now
, after what I’ve seen and heard? You can’t manipulate me, Gil, just because you can’t bear to take no for an answer. How dare you be so selfish.”

FORTY-SIX

MATTIE SWALLOWED THE ANGER THAT BOILED INSIDE AND ESCAPED to the cab of Gil’s truck. She pitched herself against the passenger door, wanting to be as far from him as possible. The man had some nerve to proclaim his love for her after admitting he’d slept with her sister, even if it was a long time ago. In her mind, it felt like it happened yesterday. And it was just like Gil to rush down the field with his declaration of love nevermind how this news might affect her.

“You need time to think, is that what you’re telling me?” He joined her in the truck and started the diesel engine.

“Put yourself in my shoes, Gil. Imagine how you’d feel if I told you I’d been with Frank and had kept it from you all this time.” She hated being so callous, but he’d asked for it. “I’m sorry for what you’re going through, really I am . . . but you brought it on yourself. You made choices and now you have to live with them, and that includes having a little patience with me while I deal with this.”

Right now, all she wanted was to huddle beneath the quilt on her bed and shrink from reality. She didn’t want to think about Gil, or Jenna, or the McCray ranch, or anything.

They drove the rest of the way to the Lightning M in silence. When Gil pulled up to her cabin, Mattie scrambled out of the cab, eager to be alone.

“May I come in, so we can talk about this?” He called after her, his features illuminated by the truck’s interior lights.

Mattie’s teeth clenched. “I think we’ve talked enough for one night.”

“Can I see you tomorrow?”

His question hung in the air as she gripped the handle to the cabin door. For a few lingering seconds, she considered answering him, then shut the door firmly behind her.

GIL PLODDED TO THE HOUSE, HIS HEART SO HEAVY AND SORE HE felt like he’d been tackled. After he bid Mildred good night, he approached the kitchen for a drink of water and noticed a light from his father’s bedroom. He rapped softly on the wooden door.

“You still awake?” Gil peered inside the room where his dad sat in bed reading.

“How was the wedding?” His father snapped the book closed and hid it beneath the covers, but not before Gil recognized the black leather binding and the engraved gilded cross.

“The wedding went well — the reception, not so good.”

His father frowned. “Why’s that?”

Gil debated confessing everything as he’d done with Mattie, then considered the outcome. Mattie hadn’t taken the news so great . . . perhaps his dad wouldn’t either. It might affect his health, and Gil refused to take on any more guilt. “Let’s just say Jenna put a kink in the evening.”

“She after you again? Tell her we’re not interested in selling, like I told you in the hospital.”

“Jenna doesn’t take no for an answer. She’s as bullheaded as her sister.”

The old man chuckled. “Mattie’s not stubborn — she just sees what she wants and goes after it.”

Gil wished Mattie would set her eyes on him, but after tonight, he questioned whether she would ever look at him again. He’d intended to discuss their future in California and had planned to ask her to marry him. But he’d fumbled the ball miserably, with no timeouts left in the game.

“What do you think Mattie wants?” Gil sat in the armchair beside his father’s bed.

“You . . . and these hills. She’s been in love with these hills ever since I met her.”

“Do you suppose she’d ever leave them?”

“And move to California?” His father tugged on his bedcovers. “Do you love her?”

“Like you and Mama?” Gil prayed for a love that strong. Then, for reasons he couldn’t explain, he decided to ask the question that had plagued him for years. “How come you and Mama never came to any of my games?”

His dad’s brow puckered. “You sure got a lot of questions.”

Gil pointed to the Bible hidden under the covers. “You’re reading the Book with all the answers.”

“It’s your mother’s.” His father pulled the Bible out and placed his wrinkled hands on the leather. “She seemed to like Psalms — had a lot of those pages marked with pen.”

“As for man, his days are like grass, he flourishes like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more.”

His dad looked up, curious.

“Psalm one hundred three.” Gil smiled. “About the games . . . don’t you know how much I wanted you to attend?” He squeezed the arms of his chair, not sure he wanted to hear his father’s answer. “You could have had the best seats in the stadium.”

The old man grumbled. “If I’d known how much it meant to you, I’d have taken your mother. She wanted to go. I never thought you cared.” He slid out of bed in his flannel pajamas and shuffled across the room to a wooden dresser drawer where he pulled out an old scrapbook. “I saved all the newspaper articles your mother cut out. Even have the last game you lost to Green Bay. Cut that one out myself.” He sniffed and handed the collection to Gil before climbing back in bed.

Gil leafed through the pages and took in the many newspaper articles collected by his parents through the years.

They’d done this for him?

He clutched the book to his chest. “May I keep it?”

His father waved his hand in the air. “Go ahead, it’s yours.”

THE NEXT MORNING GIL WOKE EARLY, ENCOURAGED BY THE STEPS HE and his father had taken the night before. He’d come to terms with the situation with Mattie, as well, and decided to give her time to digest his confession.

Right now, the only female he wanted to be around was the young filly he’d purchased in Central Kansas. With the recent trip to California and his father’s illness, Gil hadn’t done anything with the two horses but put them out to pasture.

That changed today.

He headed for the barn and grabbed his lariat.

Thirty minutes later, after a short, hard fight on the rope, Gil had the three-year-old filly lunging a couple of feet inside the rail of the wooden round pen. As a boy, he’d learned to start his groundwork in a circle and had been taught by the best trainers he knew — his dad, his brother, and his childhood friend, Clive Richards. What his brother didn’t know, his dad did, and if neither of them knew the answer to a problem, they turned to Clive, who possessed the finest horse training instincts in the county.

Gil revolved in the center of the ring and noted the bay’s attentiveness. The girl took well to his commands, and at the slightest tug stopped and faced him. He stepped forward and she stood calm, no longer stressed. Grabbing the loop in both hands, Gil prompted her to lower her head. When she did, he lifted the rope off her neck.

“Good girl.” He laid his hand on her forehead, then walked to the edge of the pen. A good start.

The sound of clapping echoed from the barn. “A man’s most content when he has the submission of a female — wouldn’t you agree?”

Gil raised his head to see Jenna coming toward him. “Only if it’s given freely and her respect is earned.”

Jenna’s mouth twisted in an ugly smile. “Whatever you say.” She glanced about the barnyard and climbed onto the wooden railing. Hank and the beagle came up and sniffed her black pant legs. She shooed them away with a kick. “I thought I’d come by this morning and have that visit with your dad. Did you mention my offer to him?”

Checking the filly’s trust, Gil approached the bay a final time and touched her forehead — sensed her peace. The work done, he turned and walked away without looking back. Once outside the pen, he captured the attention of the two dogs, then headed to the barn, not bothering to answer Jenna.

She ran to catch up. “Well, did you?”

“He’s not interested.” Gil hung his lariat on a hook on the wall. As he turned to her, his gaze traveled the length of her body in an effort to send a clear message. “I’m not either. I suggest you bother someone else, preferably in another county far from here.”

Jenna’s eyes bulged with resentment. “That’s strong talk for a man who was bound speechless by my sister last night. You chased after her with your tail between your legs. Did Mattie grant forgiveness? I’m surprised she’d even talk to you.”

Gil headed outside to fill Dusty’s water trough. “If I were you, I’d be more concerned about whether she’ll talk to you.”