Нора Робертс - Hideaway

No panic, and that was good, she thought. Nerves, a lot of nerves, but the dogs had helped distract her from them.

And Dillon. He’d looked so different. So tall now, and not so bony. She supposed he looked like a rancher—the young, sexy type—in his scarred boots and cowboy hat. So kind still, she thought, rubbing her bracelet. The way he’d bent down and wiped off her boots had made her eyes sting.

Just kindness.

She stood when Julia ran down the stairs. Hair in a messy ponytail, a plaid shirt over work jeans.

“Caitlyn!”

Open arms to take her in, to hold on.

“This is the best surprise.” Julia pulled her back, studying, smiling. “You grew up and got gorgeous. Dillon’s getting his gram. She’s going to be thrilled.”

“It’s so good to see you. I never really— I just wanted to come by and see you.” Cate held out the lilies.

“Thank you. They’re spectacular. Why don’t you come back in the kitchen, sit with me while I put them in water? I was hoping you’d come by when you wrote your family would be here for Christmas.”

“It looks the same,” Cate murmured.

“Yeah. I think about a kitchen remodel, but never get beyond the thinking.”

“It’s wonderful.” One of her safe places when the panic struck. “I almost didn’t come.”

Julia got two vases—the girl must have bought every red lily in Big Sur. “Why is that?”

“I could bring myself back here, in my head—something my therapist helped me with—when I had nightmares and couldn’t sleep again. If I came here in my head, I felt safe. I didn’t know if I’d feel that if I came, or be able to feel that in my head if I didn’t.”

Julia turned back, waited.

“It’s the same. I feel safe. It’s the same,” she repeated, “a remodel wouldn’t change how it feels, or what it is.”

“Don’t rush me, boy.” Maggie brushed Dillon back as she reached the bottom of the back stairs.

Once again Cate got to her feet. “Gram.”

“Well, bring it in.”

Steady now, really steady now, Cate walked into the hug. “I like your braids.”

“’Tis the season. Dillon, get the girl a Coke and some cookies. I hope some of those flowers are for me.”

“Do you see two vases here, Mom?”

“Just checking. You sit down now and tell me all about your love life.”

Cate gave Gram a sorrowful look, made a zero with one hand.

“That’s a sad state of affairs. I can see I need to give you some pointers.”

She stayed an hour, enjoyed every minute. When Dillon walked her out, she paused again, to look at the fields, the cattle and horses, the sea.

“You’re really lucky.”

“I know.”

“It’s good you know. I have to get back, and you must have so much to do.”

“I was just going to ride some fence. Do you ride?”

“I love to ride. I haven’t done any since I came back to L.A., but when I lived in Ireland, we had neighbors with horses, so I rode whenever I could.”

“I can saddle one up for you whenever you want.”

“I’d like that. I’d like to ride again. I’ll try to get back and take you up on it. I’m glad I saw this, all this, in the sunlight. Merry Christmas, Dillon.”

“Merry Christmas.”

He watched her drive away before he walked toward the stable to get a saddle.

He thought how funny it was that he couldn’t picture Imogene on the ranch, but how easy it was to see Cate there. A movie star.

It was just weird to think about it, so he put it aside and picked out his tack.

Rather than feeding her anxiety, Cate found her visit to Horizon Ranch energized her. Timing, she thought yet again. Time to push forward with that energy.

Some of the older cousins waged a flag football war on the front lawn. It looked vicious, so she just waved off the shouts for her to join in.

She had her own battle to fight.

And when she found Lily, her aunt Maureen, and Lily’s daughter Miranda in the gathering room, Cate prepared to suit up.

“Come sit with us. We’re taking advantage of a temporary no-kid/no-men zone.” Lily gestured her over. “Most of the youngsters are in the designated playroom, and you must’ve seen the gang out front determined to bloody each other over a football.”

“We’re prepared to offer first aid in both areas.” Maureen patted the sofa beside her. “But for the moment, we’re taking a break from ‘I had it first,’ video game central, and shouting about fouls.” She gave Cate a one-armed hug. “I haven’t had a chance to really catch up with you.”

“Not much to catch right now.”

“I can’t imagine you’ll be between projects for long, but I hope you’ll take this break to have a little fun. Some of the girls are talking spring break in Cancún. You should get in on that.”

“My Mallory’s already making her pitch.” Miranda, one of the calmest, most centered women Cate knew, continued to crochet a scarf in variegated tones of blue. She might have inherited her mother’s flame-red hair, but she maintained a kind of island of peace and tranquility.

“She graduates in May—can’t believe that. She’s aiming for Harvard. You’ll graduate this spring, too, won’t you, Cate?”

“Actually, I finished all the required courses before the break.”

“You didn’t say anything!”

Cate shrugged off Lily’s exclamation. “There’s been a lot going on.”

“Not enough to bury that. Sweets, it’s a milestone, and we need to celebrate.”

“It’s not like I’ll do the traditional march in cap and gown.”

As her tiger’s eyes softened with sorrow, Lily’s smile faded. “If that’s what you want—”

“It’s not. Really it’s not. I like having it done, you know, checked off.” To prove it, she used a finger to make a check in the air. “Done and dusted. Dad’ll get the full report and certifications after the first of the year.”

Maureen exchanged a look with Lily. “So, are you thinking college, gap year, or a hard dive into the Sullivan family business?”

Lily spoke before Cate could answer. “You can take some time. Your grades have always been stellar. You have a million possibilities and choices.”

“I’m not Harvard material.”

“Don’t devalue yourself,” Miranda said as she worked hook and wool. “You’re a bright, talented young woman. You’ve just graduated high school ahead of schedule, while working in a demanding career, doing good work building that career. And dealing with difficulties no young woman should have to face led by a criminally poor excuse for a mother who’s a stone bitch.”

She said it so smoothly, so conversationally, all without missing a stitch. At the silence, Miranda looked up. “What? Am I wrong?”

“Not in the least. I love you, Miri.”

“I love you, Mama. Don’t devalue yourself,” she told Cate again. “Too many women tend to underestimate their own worth. I learned from the master to believe in myself and work toward what I wanted in life. You should have, too.”

“Maybe a few more lessons are in order,” Lily decided. “With high school in the bag, you can come to New York and visit me. Spend a week or two.”

“I don’t want to visit you in New York.”

It didn’t come out as she’d planned, but sharp, pointed, and on the edge of angry. And she saw the shocked hurt on Lily’s face. “I don’t want to visit you in New York,” she repeated, dulling the point, but maintaining the firm. “I want to go with you to New York.”

“You … you lost me, sweets.”

“I want to move to New York, with you.”

“Why, now, Catey, you know I’d love to have you with me, but—”

“No, no, don’t tell me all the reasons why not. You have to listen to my reasons why.”