Wrangling the Cowboy's Heart (5 page)

And he knew she felt it, too, when she glanced away, a flush creeping up her cheeks.

Warning bells sounded in his brain. This girl was a mistake. She would be gone in a couple months.

And he had no desire to be the one left behind again.

* * *

Jodie pressed a button to end her most recent call, sighing as she got out of her car, now parked on Main Street.

She had spent most of the day phoning horse trainers and buyers. But it had all been for nothing. She had just finished talking to a horse buyer in Cody passed on to her by another trainer in Billings, whose number Finn Hicks had given her. The buyer in Cody wasn't available to help, nor was she optimistic that Jodie would find someone to purchase the horses if they weren't properly trained.

When her aunt Laura called and asked to meet her at the Grill and Chill for supper, Jodie readily accepted. She felt antsy. Needed to be off the ranch for a while.

The restaurant buzzed with conversations of the late-afternoon crowd as she stepped inside.

“Your aunt is by the windows,” Allison Bamford, the café's waitress, called out as she set an empty pot on the coffee machine, then grabbed an order from the kitchen and bustled away with it. Jodie shouldn't be surprised that Allison knew who she was looking for. This was Saddlebank, the place with no secrets.

She made her way to the table, smiling at the few people who greeted her. She got a few frowns, though, from parents of kids she used to be friends with.

My reputation precedes me
, she thought with a pang.

It shouldn't matter to her what the people of Saddlebank thought of her. But the unspoken censure still galled.

“Hello, my dear,” Aunt Laura said, getting up from the table. Laura wore her usual sedate shirt, tucked into blue jeans and sensible shoes. “I'm so glad you came to town,” she added, hugging her. “I've been so wanting to sit and chat with you.”

Jodie returned her hug, holding on a moment longer than necessary, overcome by a peculiar sense of homesickness. After her mother died, living with Gramma had been an exercise in tolerance on both their parts, and staying at the ranch with her father was difficult.

But the occasional stays at Aunt Laura's home in Saddlebank were like an oasis of homemade cookies and hot chocolate and unconditional love. Though she had no children of her own, the woman embraced her nieces and lavished on them the love they'd lost when their mother died.

Aunt Laura pulled away, puzzlement etched on her features. “Is everything okay, sweetie?”

“It is now,” Jodie said, waiting for her aunt to sit down before she did.

Allison came by with coffee and menus, but Jodie knew what she wanted. “I'll have Gord's loaded burger with a side of onion rings,” she said.

“You still eating that unhealthy food?” Aunt Laura said with a grimace.

“Only when I'm in Saddlebank,” she replied. “It's the mountain air that gives me the appetite for trans fats.”

Laura ordered fish and vegetables, slanting Jodie a questioning look as if giving her an opportunity to change her mind.

“I'll stick with the fried stuff,” she said to Allison.

“So how does it feel to be back here?” her aunt asked, leaning forward on the table when the waitress left. “Not too many bad memories?”

“Some.” She didn't say more than that. “But it's over now.”

“Now that your father is dead.” Laura sighed, then took Jodie's hands in hers. “I know he wasn't the best man in the world, but he was still your father.”

“I know that,” Jodie said, interrupting her. “And that's the thing I struggle with. How I feel about a man who was my father. I should feel sadder that he's gone, but the truth is, I didn't see him much after I left.”

“I wish you could have talked to him before he died. Might have given you some closure. He spent a lot of time here toward the end, sitting at his usual table by the door, scribbling on pieces of paper.” Laura smiled at her. “Not sure what he was working on, but it kept him busy.”

Probably various versions of the addendum to the will, Jodie thought. “It might have helped. Dad and I had a complicated relationship.”

“I know. And I know he struggled with it.”

Jodie bit back a response to that. “Anyhow, thanks to Dad's will, each of us girls has to stay at the ranch two months before we can sell it,” she explained.

“Sell?” The horrified look on her aunt's face made her realize how blunt her words sounded. “You want to sell the ranch? It's been in McCauley hands for two generations, and Bannisters before that. You can't sell...” Her aunt's voice faded away and regret lanced Jodie.

“I'm sorry, Aunt Laura,” she said, still clinging to her hands. “But I can't stay here forever. There's nothing here for me. Except you, but I can still come and visit. Besides, the decision isn't only mine. Erin and Lauren both agree.”

“How is Erin? She didn't come to the funeral.”

“I'm worried about her, but she told Lauren that she'll come when it works for her.”

“She's always been such a sweet, tenderhearted girl. I sure hope she's okay.”

So do I
, thought Jodie.

“So what has been keeping you busy at the ranch the past few days?” her aunt asked.

Jodie quickly latched on to the change in topic. “I've been trying to find someone to train the animals so I can sell them as riding horses instead of them going for slaughter. I asked Finn if he could, but he said he's busy.”

“Really?” Her aunt tilted her head to one side. “That's too bad. I heard he's a good horse trainer, as well as being a good deputy. A multitalented man. Your father liked him. Didn't you two date at one time?”

Jodie ignored the question, choosing to concentrate on getting the perfect amount of sugar into her coffee. Finn had been the one bright spot in that horrible summer. Now they were so far apart in their individual journeys there was no way they'd have anything in common anymore.

“Well, well, speaking of...” Aunt Laura said, looking past Jodie, her smile widening.

“Good afternoon, Miss McCauley. Jodie.” The deep voice beside their table made Jodie jump. Her gaze tangled with a pair of hazel eyes. Finn Hicks stood by their table, still in uniform, one hand resting on a belt weighed down by hardware, the other holding his hat. The hint of a smile on his face created a silly flutter in her heart.

Plus it didn't hurt that the stubble shadowing his cheeks emphasized his cheekbones and the dent in his strong chin.

“Sorry to bother you,” he said. “But I'd like to talk to you, Miss McCauley. Laura McCauley, that is,” he corrected.

Jodie's aunt seemed taken aback, looking from Finn to Jodie as if wondering why he wanted to talk to her instead of her niece. “Well, pull up a chair. Did you want anything to eat? I'm buying,” she said.

“No. Thanks. Sorry again to interrupt. I won't be but a minute,” he said, shooting an apologetic look at Jodie as he pulled a chair from a table beside them. But as he sat down, their knees brushed and Jodie jumped back at the contact.

“So what can I do for you?” Aunt Laura asked, her smile widening as she looked from one to the other. Jodie wasn't sure she liked her aunt's eager expression.

Finn scratched his chin with his forefinger, glancing again at Jodie, then to her aunt. “You know we've got that church music festival coming up. I'm on the committee.”

“It's the talk of the town. I'm excited about hearing your mother play, but more than that, to hear Mandie sing,” Laura said.

“That's why I need to talk to you. My mom called today and said she has some other commitment and won't be able to come.” Finn blew out a sigh, his features grim. “I need a new accompanist. I had hoped you could help me.”

Aunt Laura shook her head. “There's no way I'm nearly accomplished enough to play for Mandie.” She flicked a glance at Jodie, her smile growing. “But my niece is.”

Jodie stared at her. What was she up to? And then she caught the gleam in her aunt's eye and everything clicked.

She turned to Finn and dashed the hope she saw on his face. “Sorry. The only place I've played the past few years is in bars, and I doubt you'd want to bring me before the church board.”

Finn's expression hardened just a bit, which convinced her even more that she wasn't doing this.

“But, honey, it's a wonderful opportunity,” Aunt Laura was saying. “Mandie is internationally known. She might be able to help you with your own musical career.”

Jodie entertained the thought for a moment, her old dreams rising up from the ashes. Then she shook it off. She didn't have the best résumé to accompany a Christian contemporary singer. “That ship has sailed, Aunt Laura. I've got other plans.”

“Like what?”

Jodie let her question sit, unanswered. She wasn't sure what her other plans were. Up until now her goals were work, travel, work, travel.

She knew that she wasn't keen on spending more time with Finn than was necessary. Though it had been years, he resurrected feelings she hadn't experienced in a while. Feelings of hope for a life she had always yearned for.

Plus, Finn had been Keith's friend, and she still couldn't reconcile their connection with her own tumultuous relationship with her father.

Finn dragged his hand over his face. “Do you know anyone else who could help me?” he asked, turning back to Aunt Laura, clearly as unwilling to press Jodie as she was to help him out.

Laura sat back in her chair, arms folded. “No. There isn't anyone around here capable enough of playing for someone of Mandie's caliber. Your mother would have been ideal, but seeing as she can't make it, you don't have much choice left.” Then her eyes took on a speculative gleam that made Jodie's neck prickle. “So here's what I think would work. Finn, you need someone to play for you, and Jodie is perfect for the job. Jodie, you need someone to train your horses, and Finn is perfect for that job. Why don't you two come to an amicable trade?”

The prickle on Jodie's neck grew as she glanced over at Finn in time to catch him looking at her. He seemed as wary as she felt, but she also saw a tiny spark of hope.

“You could help each other out. It's a win-win,” Aunt Laura said.

Jodie tried to imagine herself playing in church in front of the members, but the picture wouldn't gel. She didn't belong there.

But weighted against that was the thought that her beloved horses would not be headed for slaughter if she agreed.

Still, she hesitated, glancing again at Finn. Their eyes met and once more she felt that unwelcome spark.

“I guess this could work.” But even as she spoke the words, a dissenting voice deep in her soul told her she was making a mistake.

“Then, that's settled. I'll leave it up to you two to hash out the arrangements,” Aunt Laura said with a satisfied tone.

Then, thankfully, Allison was there with their food.

“And I'll leave you two to your supper.” Finn got up and set his chair at the table beside them. “Guess we'll be in touch,” he said to Jodie.

Was it her imagination or did he sound as enthusiastic about the trade as she did?

She gave him a weak smile, then looked down at her hamburger.

It would be okay, she told herself as she squirted ketchup on her plate. She knew who she was and who Finn was. She wasn't about to open herself up to heartbreak again.

Chapter Five

“I
hope Jodie comes soon,” Amy Bernstein sighed, tapping the envelope holding the sheet music against her thigh in time with her toe tapping on the stage floor. Amy was a member of the committee putting on the church music festival and had insisted on being present when Jodie played. Finn understood her concerns. No one had ever heard Jodie perform and Mandie Parker was too big a name to leave things to chance. She glanced at her phone, which she then slipped into a large leather bag. “I need to leave by five thirty. I've had a long day at work.”

“She said she would be here and I believe her,” Finn said, shooting an exasperated glance at the clock on the back wall of the church sanctuary, wondering if he had made a mistake.

Now each tick of the clock increased the pressure he felt. Finn had specifically told Jodie that they had to meet at the church at four thirty to run through the music Mandie had sent them. It was getting closer and closer to five.

“If she can't be punctual for something like this, I have grave concerns about the actual concert,” Amy said as she sat down on the piano bench, crossing one slender leg over the other and clasping her hands around her knees. Her tailored suit was barely wrinkled even after a day of work at the bank. “Jodie has had, how shall I say, an unstable lifestyle after she left here.”

“What do you mean?”

The woman waved a manicured hand. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sure you know the whole sad story of her life. You and Keith were quite close.”

“Keith was good to me,” Finn admitted.

Amy sighed, shaking her head at the tragedy of it all. “That poor man lost out on so much when his wife left him. And those girls. Such a messed-up childhood. I'm sure that's why Jodie became the wild girl she did.”

Finn easily remembered the “wild girl” Amy referred to. Jodie's descent into partying that summer had bothered him on so many levels, but she wouldn't talk to him about it and had avoided him at all costs the last few weeks she was here.

He'd gotten over it, of course, and thanks to Keith, found the perfect girl in Denise. Uncomplicated and a strong Christian.

But more and more Finn realized he'd never quite gotten over their high school romance.

The sound of the outside door shutting echoed through the building. He heard hurried footsteps down the hallway, then Jodie appeared at the entrance of the sanctuary. She paused there, looking around as if getting her bearings.

Finn caught a fleeting expression of sorrow on her features, but it was chased away by a strained smile as her eyes fell on the two of them.

“I'm so glad you could finally make it, Jodie,” Amy said, her tone coolly polite. “We need to get started right away. I have to be home soon.”

“Sorry,” Jodie replied, breathless as she hurried down the aisle, pulling down the sleeves of her thin sweater. It floated around her like the wings of a butterfly. He caught glimpses of little ribbon roses embroidered on it matching the bright red of her capri pants. Fun and funky. Only Jodie could pull off an outfit like that.

“I was out riding Roany and I forgot to take my watch or my phone,” she continued.

“What happened to you?” He frowned, seeing the small cut on her temple.

Jodie's hand flew to her head. “Oh. Nothing. I just... Clumsy, you know.”

As she raised her arm, he noticed a large purple bruise on her forearm through the fine fabric of her sweater. “So what actually happened?”

“It's nothing. I told you.” She hurriedly lowered her arm, her cheeks flushing. Her anger puzzled him, but finally he put everything together.

“Did Roany throw you?”

She lifted her chin, her eyes flashing. “I thought she would be okay. After how good she was when you were trimming her hooves. Thought I could do some training myself.”

Finn was about to make another comment when Amy noisily cleared her throat, a not-so-subtle hint that time was ticking away.

“I have the music here,” the woman said, picking up the envelope she had laid on the piano bench. She gave Jodie a warm smile. “It's good to see you again, sweetie.”

“Good to see you, too.” But Jodie didn't meet her eyes as she pulled the sheet music from the envelope.

Finn was surprised at Jodie's reserved response to the friendly overture. Amy seemed to be as well, her brows meeting in a brief frown quickly replaced by a gentle smile.

“I hope this isn't too much for you,” she said, touching Jodie lightly, as if trying to make a connection.

“I can manage,” Jodie stated, looking over the papers, all business now, but still ignoring Amy's overture.

Something was off, Finn thought, trying to figure out why Jodie was so cool to Amy, who seemed willing to help.

He glanced over Jodie's shoulder at the music. “Doesn't look too complicated,” he said.

“I don't think so, either. The key on this one seems high, though.” She frowned as she flipped through the sheets of music. “What do you think?”

But she addressed her question to Finn, not Amy.

“Why do you say that?” he wondered.

“Mandie has a deeper voice that might be straining on these high notes. I'm surprised she would want to do it in this key.”

“You've listened to her sing?” Finn was surprised but yet thankful that Jodie had done some homework.

“I downloaded most of her songs onto my phone to prepare myself,” she said. “I'd like to talk to her about this.”

“If you have anything to say to Mandie, I prefer that you go through me,” Amy interjected, her tone unyielding.

“If I'm playing for Mandie, wouldn't it be easier if I spoke to her myself?”

“I'm sorry, my dear.” Amy gave Jodie a benevolent smile. “I know you mean well, but we prefer to have as few people as possible talking to her. Mandie is a busy woman and we can't have her distracted by pointless questions.”

Jodie laughed, but Finn heard an underlying nervousness. Again he was puzzled at the relationship between the two.

“I can't believe talking to the person accompanying her would be distracting,” Jodie said.

“We're just trying to be considerate of her time.” This was accompanied by an obvious glance at the clock. “Even though you will be playing today, we still haven't made a final decision on who is to accompany Mandie.”

Jodie sent Finn a puzzled look. “I thought you needed me?”

“We do. For now. But if Finn's mother shows up, we might not.” Amy folded her hands together. “Christie McCauley is a very talented player.” This compliment was directed at Finn, who couldn't argue with that, but who wasn't sure Amy's faith in his mother was justified.

“My mom specifically called me to tell me she couldn't come,” he said with a note of finality. “I doubt that will change. Jodie, why don't you try the songs out?”

Finn guessed there was more to their conversation than what he was hearing, but he wasn't about to get sidetracked by a history he knew nothing about.

“Play them a couple of times and we can see how comfortable you are with the pieces,” Finn said.

Jodie clenched her hand, then sat on the piano bench, wincing as she did so.

Which made Finn wonder how badly she'd been hurt when she was thrown.

But she rested her hands on the keyboard, took a long, slow breath and squared her shoulders.

Then began to play.

The notes pouring from the piano filled the vast emptiness of the sanctuary, echoing with a harmony that made him shiver.

As Jodie played, Finn saw the tension that had been gripping her loosen. A half smile played over her lips and she canted her head to one side, rocking in time to the music. Then she began to improvise, letting the tune rise up, playing with the timing.

Finn watched her, his own smile growing as he saw another side of the Jodie he remembered making an appearance. Sweet, kind and loving, utterly lost in the music she performed.

“Excuse me,” Amy said with a nervous laugh, her hands fluttering in protest. “Stop. Please. That's not how the song goes.”

Jodie's fingers fell on the keys in a discordant note. “Sorry,” she said. “Just got carried away.”

“Of course you did,” Amy said. “But this isn't the time or place. This is Mandie's music and you should play it the way she has it laid out. This is a church function, my dear. Not a piano bar.” The woman's smile seemed to grow more forced with each passing minute.

“I realize that,” Jodie said, starting to get up from the piano, all the previous joy seemingly leeched out of her face. “I'm sorry to have wasted your time.”

“Wait a minute,” Finn said, putting his hand on her shoulder to stop her, feeling a moment of panic. If she left, he'd have no one to accompany the singer. “I think Jodie was simply playing around with the music,” he said. “Just being creative.”

“That may be, but the purpose of an accompanist is to accompany. Not lead where she decides to go,” Amy said, the voice of reason.

“Naturally.” Finn glanced at Jodie, who still sat at the piano. “And you'll play it the way Mandie wants, right?”

She nodded, flipping through the rest of the music.

“So why don't you try one of the other ones?” he suggested, trying to keep the peace.

Jodie sighed and Finn saw she wasn't happy, but she played the next piece, hitting each note with deliberate perfection. At the same time, there was no life or personality to it.

Nor was it as fun to see her playing.

Amy smiled in approval. “That's much better. Can you play the other pieces as well before I leave? I want to be out of here ASAP. My time does have value, you know.”

“A TiVo would make things easier for you,” Jodie said, her tone casual.

Finn was completely lost. Where did that come from?

Looking from Jodie's challenging expression to Amy's now narrowed eyes, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

“You haven't changed a bit,” the older woman said, her voice holding a harsh edge that seemed out of proportion to the conversation.

She stood aside, arms crossed, fingers tapping as Jodie ran through the rest of the music.

As soon as Jodie was done, Amy swept down the aisle without a backward glance.

* * *

The sudden slamming of the outside door echoed like a gunshot in the silence Amy left in her wake. Jodie fought down her frustration. Even after these years, that woman still got her going.

“So what was that all about?” Finn asked, his puzzlement showing on his features.

Jodie looked back at him, feeling again the touch of his hand on her forehead. How it raised unwelcome and yet irresistible feelings of attraction.

“It was a flip comment. I shouldn't have said it.”

“But now you have me curious.”

She didn't want to say anything, but she could tell he wouldn't leave her alone until he satisfied his curiosity.

“Amy has to be home on time to watch her favorite television show,” she said with a shrug, feeling petty. “It comes on at six. She never misses it.”

“Hence the TiVo comment.”

“I shouldn't have said that,” Jodie replied. “It was unkind.”

“I'm guessing you know her schedule because you and her daughter used to be friends?”

“Yes. We hung out when we lived here. Like you and I, Clair and I had...we had a falling out.”

Which was a kind way to explain their huge blowup that summer.

“About what?”

Jodie flushed a little, remembering the mixture of guilt and thrill she had felt when Finn had asked her out, knowing that Clair had had a crush on him for years.

“You're blushing. What happened?”

She lifted her hands and let them fall. “You happened. You asked me out and she didn't like it, because she had ‘claimed' you as hers. I broke a cardinal girlfriend rule when I went out with you.”

“Girlfriend rule?”

“You never accept a date with a guy your friend has a crush on. Except Clair was an odd kind of friend.”

“How so?”

“We'd hang out and be really close, and then a week later, I'd be ignored and left out. The usual girl drama. I'd go home to Knoxville, come back for the summer and I'd be the new, fun friend again. When we got older, we used to sneak out and go to parties together.” Jodie gave him an apologetic smile. “Not exactly what I'd like you to know about me.”

“And Amy blames you for that?”

Jodie turned back to the piano, idly noodling out a tune, trying to find the best way to say what she wanted to. “When Clair found out I was dating you, she was furious. And later that summer, she partied a lot. She never really got out of that lifestyle after she moved away. Amy seems to think that's my fault.”

Jodie tried to leave the past where it belonged. Thankfully, Finn didn't ask any more questions, so she turned to him.

“So what did you think? Do we still have a deal? Will I be accompanying Mandie and will you be training my horses?”

“Yes, we have a deal, if you're still willing.”

“Yes.” In spite of Amy, she knew she didn't have much choice.

“And Amy just wanted to hear you herself. For one reason or another she didn't like the idea of you playing.”

“So was she serious?” Jodie asked instead. “About me not being able to talk to Mandie?”

“I can give you Mandie's number if you think anything needs to change,” Finn said.

Relief loosened the tension in Jodie's shoulders. For a moment she'd thought he was siding with Amy. But knowing that Finn had her back meant more than she'd realized.

“I don't want to change anything,” Jodie said, getting up. “I just want to go over a few things with her. Get a feel of what she wants to do.”

Finn nodded as he got up as well, and they stood across from each other, as if unsure what else to say.