“No, I’m sorry.” Ben got to his feet.
“Thank you, Justine, for letting us know,” Charlotte said. With a polite nod, Ben took her arm.
“We should phone David,” Charlotte suggested as they left the bank. She still felt there must be some kind of explanation. She had to believe that or she’d give up on Ben’s son the same way he had, which was exactly what she wanted to avoid. To Charlotte, it was important to build good relationships with Ben’s children.
When they got home, Ben excused himself and went into the bedroom. The urge to follow him left Charlotte’s stomach in knots. She knew how bad he felt and wished she could alleviate his disappointment. At the same time, she recognized that he needed to be alone.
As she walked into the kitchen, the answering machine light was flickering. She pushed the message button and heard David Rhodes, speaking clearly and distinctly. “Dad, give me a call once you’re home.”
As soon as the message had finished, Ben entered the kitchen.
“Did you hear?” she asked.
Ben nodded.
“Will you phone him?”
Her husband shook his head adamantly. “There’s no point. I already know what he wants.”
So did Charlotte. Surely David had phoned to apologize. He wouldn’t be foolish enough to ask for another loan. This situation must be just as embarrassing for his son as it had been for Ben.
The phone rang and Ben glared at it accusingly.
“Shall I answer it?” Charlotte asked.
“No,” Ben snapped. “It’s David.” Then, as if realizing how harshly he’d spoken, he gathered Charlotte into his arms. “My son can’t say anything that I haven’t heard a hundred times before. He’s sorry—and I believe he is—but it never makes any difference.”
“Oh, Ben.” Charlotte understood; she really did. It was almost as if Ben was talking about her son, Will. David had been careless with money, Will with people’s affections. Women’s affections. Charlotte knew the kind of man he was and yet she chose to look the other way and ignore his faults. A mother did that. She wasn’t sure what else to do, even now that his marriage had failed. She didn’t feel it was her place to interfere between a man and his wife. Yet Charlotte knew that not only had her son been unfaithful, he’d taken advantage of Grace, a woman almost as close to her as her own daughter. Yes, she acknowledged that Grace had played a role in this, too, but she blamed her son far more than she did Grace.
No one had told her what had gone on between them; no one needed to. She’d figured out that it was Will with whom Grace had been involved over the Internet. Her married son had led that lovely woman down a path of promises he had no intention of keeping, and to her detriment, Grace had followed him. Now Will’s own marriage was in shambles and he was blaming Georgia, the woman who’d stood by him all these years. No, Charlotte understood far better than Ben realized what a disappointment one’s children could sometimes be.
Seventeen
Since Easter, almost two weeks ago, Linnette had barely spoken to Cal. He’d joined her and her family, sat with them, talked with them and then as casually as could be announced that he was leaving for Wyoming on some wild goose—correction, wild horse—chase.
He didn’t seem to have noticed how upset she was. In fact, at the time, Linnette had been too unnerved to do more than make a token protest. Since Easter, though, she’d given a great deal of thought to the situation. It’d taken her this long to work up the courage to confront Cal and let him know her feelings. If he was serious about their relationship, the same way she was, then the least he could do was discuss this with her.
She’d been working long hours at the clinic to cover for colleagues on vacation. She’d left two messages on his answering machine, and he hadn’t answered either one. Of course, he was busy, but so was she. Yes, she knew that several of the mares were pregnant and that he was training a couple of yearlings. But what about her work commitments? Anyway, even if she wasn’t very familiar with horse ranching she remembered that Cliff raised quarter horses, not mustangs. She didn’t understand his and Cal’s sudden interest in an entirely different breed of horse. Her only option was to talk to Cal, face to face. She’d explain her position and beg him to give up this crazy notion.
On the long drive out to Olalla, she smiled as she recalled how her sister, Gloria, had teased her, calling it Oo-la-la once she’d seen Cal. Linnette had talked to her about this situation, and Gloria had agreed with her decision, cautioning her to stay calm, stay focused. That had offended Linnette just a little, since she saw herself as calm and clearheaded. But she was grateful for Gloria’s go-ahead.
Linnette hadn’t given Cal any advance warning. The idea of driving to Wyoming by himself, especially now that he was doing so well with his speech therapy, troubled her. She didn’t want to give him an opportunity to come up with rationalizations and trumped-up reasons, either.
The least Cal could’ve done was present his plan to her, so they could talk it over before he made a decision. He hadn’t considered her feelings at all, and that hurt. She’d finally realized why this whole idea of his bothered her as much as it did. Ultimately it came down to the fact that she’d played no part in it.
When she arrived at the ranch, she didn’t immediately see Cal. Various horses milled around the fenced pasture to her right. She wasn’t sure exactly how many Cliff owned now—several dozen as far as she could tell. On previous visits Linnette had learned the names of a few of them. Cliff’s stallion was called Midnight, and the brown-and-white yearling cavorting around the pasture closest to the fence was Funny Face. And there was Sheba, of course, the mare she’d ridden a few weeks ago.
When she’d parked and left her car, Cliff was emerging from the barn. He was a good-looking man, probably older than her parents, with a striking, vital presence. She thought he looked better than he ever had, and being a romantic, Linnette felt sure the difference was due to his marriage.