Carol Ericson - Circumstantial Memories

“That’s BS. What happened to that private security firm you and your friend wanted to start in Denver? Now would be a perfect time.”

“Maybe after this assignment.” Ryder avoided Rod’s piercing stare.

“So you are leaving your family. Just like Mom.”

Ryder jumped up and the chair flew back, hitting the large window that looked out on the McClintock ranch. “Mom had to leave. She had to leave once I told her about Dad’s involvement with Pam. Don’t blame Mom. Blame me. I ripped this family apart by opening my big mouth.”

“There’s plenty of blame to go around.” Rod’s eyes narrowed. “But you don’t own any of it. Dad had been fooling around for years before Pam, and Mom knew it. Your acute ten-year-old observation that Dad was kissing the new ski instructor gave Mom the excuse she needed.”

“You’re the one who spilled the beans?” Rafe’s mouth dropped open.

“Shut up, Rafe.” Rod dismissed him with a flick of the hand. “Stop protecting Mom, Ryder. She left because she wanted to leave. She never liked the ranch and having three boys in the space of six years was too much for her to handle. She was a lousy mom even before she left without a backward glance.”

The truth of Rod’s words sliced through him like a knife and then twisted in his gut. He clenched his hands into white-knuckled fists. All these years it had been easier to blame himself for his mother’s desertion.

If only he hadn’t gone skiing that day with his friends. If only he hadn’t been at the lodge the precise moment that Dad kissed Pam. If only he hadn’t told his mother and the rest of the family what he saw.

The truth yawned before him like an endless pit of fear, so deep it threatened to swallow him whole. His mother didn’t love her sons. She’d been incapable of love. That’s why his father sought solace in the arms of other women.

Ryder ground his teeth together. He’d grown up with two bad examples of parenting. Why would he be any better?

“You blame yourself for Sharon high-tailing it out of here?” Rafe shook his head. “I didn’t know that. I could’ve set you straight. Sharon didn’t have a maternal bone in her body.”

“Stop.” Ryder held up his hands. “I don’t need to hear any more from you two. And if you think you made me feel any better about taking on the responsibilities of parenthood, you didn’t.”

Rod shrugged. “I’m not here to make you feel better, but if you walk out of that little girl’s life, you’ll be repeating a pattern.” He strode toward the door and then twisted his head over his shoulder. “And clean up that crap on my desk, Rafe.”

JULIA PEEKED OUT the front window of the antique shop and let out a relieved sigh. Ryder’s truck idled at the curb in front of the store.

He’d said all the right words the other night when they made love, but had distanced himself from her and Shelby in the days following. He must’ve decided to leave them. She heaved another sigh, but relief had nothing to do with it.

“Is your ride here?” Millie’s daughter, Maddy, leaned over the counter and winked. “Wish I had a personal escort and bodyguard.”

“No, you don’t.” Julia waved at Ryder and backed away from the window to retrieve her purse behind the counter. “That would mean you have some crazed stalker after you.”

“I know.” Maddy patted Julia’s shoulder. “I’m sorry all this crap is happening to you. Seems like you just can’t get a break…until now.” She tilted her chin toward the window and Ryder’s truck.

Julia swung her bag over her shoulder and said good-bye to Maddy. Did Ryder represent a break or just a broken heart?

As she approached the truck, Ryder jumped out and opened the door. She climbed into the seat and he slammed the door and jogged around to the other side.

“Did you have a good morning? No incidents?” He cranked on the engine and glanced over his left shoulder into oncoming traffic.

“None. No news on Charlie?”

“None.”

“Did you and Shelby do anything this morning?”

“I took her to see the horses, but I didn’t have time to give her a riding lesson.”

She winced, emitting a whimper from the back of her throat. She hadn’t imagined it, this distance Ryder was putting between them.

“I had to help Rod with some stuff around the ranch.” He kept his gaze pinned to the road ahead. “Are you all set for Paris?”

She swallowed and lifted her chin. “Yeah, we’re ready, but I’m afraid my mother is going to faint when she sees my clothes.”

Ryder pursed his lips, two deep lines forming at the sides of his mouth. She’d meant to ease the tension between them with a little humor, but he wasn’t smiling.

“Celeste is not very motherly.” Ryder frowned in concentration as if choosing and then discarding words. He dragged in a breath and blew it out, puffing his cheeks. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll be the same kind of mother to Shelby? That you’ll fail her?”

Her heart jumped, her fingers curling over the edge of the seat. She didn’t like the direction of his questions. Did he just accuse her of being an unfit mother because of the poor example her own mother set? From what she’d heard about Sharon McClintock, he didn’t have a lot of wiggle room in this argument.

Beneath lowered lashes, her gaze shifted to the side. Ryder stared straight ahead, his shoulders stiff, his face tight. He looked…scared. She’d never seen Ryder afraid of anything or anyone.

Her pulse ticked against her throat. Could he be frightened of a little, thirty-eight-pound girl?

“You know…” She turned down the radio. “You don’t have to have a model parent to be a model parent. Sometimes you just feel it here.” She pounded her chest with her fist.

“I may not always make the right choices as a parent, but whatever I do comes from a deep, never-ending pool of love. And somehow Shelby knows that.” She trailed her fingers along the corded muscle of his forearm, and he loosened his grip on the steering wheel.

“Trust yourself, Ryder.”

The truck swung through the gates of the McClintock ranch, and as they rounded the last bend toward the house, Julia squinted out the window at a clutch of people gathered in the riding paddock. She pointed. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. Let’s find out.” Ryder pulled the truck over and jumped to the ground.

Several faces turned in their direction, and Pam peeled away from the group and ran toward them.

Julia’s heart skittered in her chest at Pam’s face, creased with worry. Her gaze darted across the empty paddock, and she clutched Ryder’s arm.

“What’s wrong, Pam?” Ryder covered Julia’s hand with his own.

“It’s Shelby. That silly, headstrong little girl rode her pony out of the paddock when Jock wasn’t looking.” Pam’s white fingers plucking at the edge of her blouse gave lie to her lighthearted words.

Julia blinked her eyes, her mouth so dry she couldn’t form any words.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Ryder charged to the paddock, and Julia clung to his arm, her rubbery legs unable to support her.

A few of the ranch hands and Ryder’s father lifted worried faces at their approach.

“What happened?” The ranch hands shrank back in the face of Ryder’s fury.

“Don’t worry, boy.” Ralph slapped Ryder on the back. “The little gal just got adventurous and took her pony for a real ride.”

Ryder shrugged him off. “Will someone tell me what happened here?”

Pam stepped forward. “ Shelby wanted a riding lesson and because you weren’t around, Jock took her out. He had her seated on Silverbell, and she was circling the paddock. Dan called him over for a minute and when he turned around, she was gone.”