Last-Chance Marriage Rescue Page 4
“You. I said what would you like to do?”
Her brows pinched together. “I’m not sure. I’ll have to look at the list again.”
“There’s a couples’ massage.” He couldn’t resist taunting her with a wink.
She arched an eyebrow. “Don’t push your luck.”
He chuckled, the sound feeling alien in his throat. His artistic wife had often accused him of being too practical, too unemotional. He hadn’t seen his analytical nature as a detriment. In fact, he’d considered it an asset that kept the dairy farm afloat long after others in the industry folded.
But right now, he certainly wouldn’t mind a bit more emotional insight as to what made his wife tick. And if that meant attending every “workshop” Nina chose at the Top Dog Dude Ranch, then so be it.
As he focused on the future, the landscape collapsed around him in a wash of yellows and orange. Wind tunneled through the mountains, so strong, even the truck rocked. His thoughts plowed ahead to the Top Dog Dude Ranch and whatever waited for them there. Not that he believed in the magic his daughters rambled on about. But he did believe in hard work. In the ability to put in the time to change his fate, his family’s course.
A flash out of the corner of his eye yanked his attention back on the road just as a white-tailed deer bolted into their path. He steered hard to avoid the buck, reflexes quick from growing up in the backwoods. A deer could take out a car—and everyone in it.
He definitely needed to rein in his emotions and set his mind to putting his life back in order.
* * *
Thank goodness they’d arrived at the Top Dog Dude Ranch without encountering any other deer leaping across the road. Surely that’s what had her heart hammering against her rib cage. Not the prospect of sharing a romantic cabin with her husband for the next two weeks.
The playful conversation with Douglas had stirred hope she couldn’t afford to feel. And a couples’ massage?
She refused to let her thoughts go there for even an instant.
The girls radiated excitement from the back seat until the air all but hummed with it. Kacie and Kelsey had rolled down their windows and were leaning into the breeze despite the chill, sunlight dappling their faces. They pointed out and read signs that were posted giving directions, wooden and painted paw prints leading the way.
She opened her window, too, and drew in bracing breaths of fresh mountain air to steady her nerves. Phone still gripped in her hand from checking in, she chewed her lips as Douglas navigated up the winding mountain path. Towering pines grew around deep-set ancient boulders, the trees scenting the air with a hint of Christmas.
All these years later, Tennessee still made her breath catch. Spoke to the youngest parts of her soul. A part of her that, in spite of all the hardships, still yearned for the rush of mountain air, the gentle smallness of being out here.
And then the road narrowed while the trees parted to reveal a retreat so perfect it could have been straight from long-ago dreams shared while sitting on the porch with her foster sister. No doubt, the mountains had always called to her.
But this place?
It sparked with life. Fallen leaves sprinted along the yellowing grass like a gentle hearth fire from some fairy tale she couldn’t quite remember.
The main lodge they’d passed moments ago felt stately. Sprawling like a rustic castle nestled in the foothills of towering mountains.
Douglas was all eyes forward, hands roving on the steering wheel as he kept the truck on the narrow road. For a moment, her heart surged at the muscled grace of movements. The memory of those hands against her skin. Yet something else she was losing.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she forced the thought away and turned her attention back to the world outside. She let herself get lost in the cabins with smoking chimneys that nestled into the mountainside.
Part of her still viewed things photographically, even if she’d given up the career hopes. How she would frame an image, capture the magic of a place. That kind of seeing never completely receded from her.
Despite the rising thud against her ribs, she imagined she might focus a camera on the red barn off in the distance. The foreground would feature the pinto horse that was bolting away from the barn, tail and mane streaming in the wind, floating across the cleared land, mountains suggesting freedom in the background.
It had been a long time since she’d followed through on those instincts, that part of her that recorded images freely. Lately, her photographs and documenting felt as hollow as the ache in her chest, maybe because the only photos she’d taken recently had been of the dairy farm for a file to pass to the inevitable Realtor to sell the property.
As the horse disappeared from view, swallowed by the trees, her attention snapped back to closer surroundings. A high-pitched laugh had Nina’s head swiveling toward the back seat where the twins bounced with an excitement barely contained by the seat belt.
“I mean, just look at how beautiful the font is on this,” Kelsey said, holding the “dog tag” the ranch sent three days prior. Her fingers traced her name. So like Kelsey—her attention to detail, to arrangement, made her a strong student.
“Who cares about the font?” Kacie scoffed, sliding the dog tag back and forth along the chain around her neck. “The engraving of the horse and running dog is basically the best part.” Nina smiled, admiring the spirt Kacie possessed. Her interest in motion. The dog tags had arrived in the mail as part of their welcome package, the silver charms engraved with their names and parents’ contacts in case they got separated.
A cute—and practical—gesture.
Gravel crunched beneath the truck tires as the woods became thicker, obscuring the sky with lithe limbs. A wooden porch on stilts peeked from trees with bright red leaves. Inviting and welcoming. The kind of place that housed laughter and smelled perpetually of baked goods—chocolate chip cookies and vanilla. Or at least, the glow of filtered sun on the pine-colored exterior certainly suggested that the cabin served such a purpose. She hadn’t realized how much her soul craved an escape from the hardship of the farm until right this minute, looking at a creek gurgling and glistening in the late-day sun. A stone firepit, aged with time and smoke, invited from by the shore.
Her fingers itched to record every moment with her lens. And she would. But her children’s need for peace had to come first.
Douglas steered the truck beside the cabin they’d been assigned and shifted the truck into Park. “All right, girls, let’s unload.”
Nina scooped her leather hobo bag from the floorboards. “We only have an hour before the welcome cookout for newcomers.”
Her handsome husband took the steps up to the cabin in long, measured strides, stopping outside the door to punch in the code. He swung the door wide, holding it open for her; their eyes held as she angled past him, near enough to breathe in the familiar scent of his spicy aftershave.
Turning away from his still-alluring scent, she took in the details of the place they would call home for the next two weeks. Shiplap hugged the walls, framing the large stone fireplace that she was sure had chased the chill away from many Tennessee winter nights.
Ceiling beams added a touch of whimsy, complementing the wagon-wheel chandelier Douglas had just turned on. The light cast the cabin in a honey glow.
Peace must look like this. All warm and gathered beauty. She grazed her fingers along a wooden wall plaque. Be the person your dog thinks you are.
How would her dogs assess her now, she wondered? A failure?
The girls pitched their backpacks onto the leather sofa and climbed the ladder up to the loft, bunk bed visible. Puppy-paw patterns wandered across the two duvets. Complimentary cowboy hats rested on each pillow.
Her heart in her throat, she stepped into the master bedroom. A vintage claw-foot tub—perfect for soaking—took up the majority of the bathroom space.
&n
bsp; Mimicking ivy and blossoming flowers, the wrought iron headboard and bed frame made the bed at once stately and romantic. “His” and “Hers” Stetsons were perched on the pillows.
Would she or Douglas take the plaid futon? Or would they ignore the futon and share the bed? They hadn’t slept together in nearly six months. The sex between them had been dynamic, combustible, back in the day. Then it had become more of an exercise.
Then after their huge fight about closing the door to having more children, nothing at all.
Except in her memories. And those memories were so vivid, in weak moments, they made her long for something, anything from their relationship.
His shadow stretched past her and she didn’t have to look over her shoulder to know he was there, so close, his breath whispered over her neck.
“I’ll sleep on the sofa,” he said softly, his voice warm and gravelly, like whiskey on the rocks.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She stepped away, deeper into the room, keeping her back to him. “There’s no need for you to wreck your back.”
“Are you offering to sleep on the sofa or share the bed with me?”
She pivoted on her heels, crossing her arms against the temptation to say yes. “We’ve shared a room for longer than two weeks before without sleeping together. I think I can resist for the next fourteen days regardless of who rests their head on which pillow.”
He chuckled wryly. “You always did know how to cut me down to size.”
“At least I’m getting a reaction of some sort,” she couldn’t resist snapping back, only to regret the vulnerable words the second they left her mouth.
“Lady, you always get a reaction from me.”
She exhaled long, hard, and sagged to sit on the end of the bed. “I’m too weary to play word games with you today.”
“I thought we were calling a truce.” He slid his fingers along a lock of her hair. “For now, anyway. We’re here to let this place help us find a way through with our girls.”
“Well, the girls have already informed me they want to attend the session on ‘Pawsitivity.’ I told them I was signing them up for ‘To Furgive and Furget.’”
His low chuckle rumbled through the space as he stashed their suitcases in the closet. “We could probably lead a whole day on ‘When Times Get Ruff.’”
“Too bad we didn’t have a place like this years ago. I was so naive in thinking we would never need help.” Nina swallowed a swell of regret and draped her jean jacket over a hook. She squinted to look closer at the photographs of Tennessee mountains dressed in summer green on a gallery wall.
“There was a time I knew exactly what you were thinking. All I had to do was look at your photos. Then you stopped showing me any of your pictures, and I was left clueless. Your face is far less telling.”
“I could say the same about you.”
“I’m not trying to keep secrets,” he said, even though his face was a blank as ever. “I don’t have any to keep.”
“Oh, Douglas,” she sighed, wishing she could make him understand in this rare pocket of opportunity when he was actually talking, communicating something more than just dry facts. “That’s what make things even harder for the two of us. These days there’s just...silence.”
Except the feelings inside her were anything but quiet. She felt on fire with regrets and ache over those lost dreams. Over so much loss. She wanted to rage and scream. Except he would just shut down even more. If possible.
Resigned, she hugged her arms tight over her chest. “Could you check on the girls? I need to change for dinner.”
What she really needed? A bath in that claw-foot tub to cover the sounds of a good cry.
* * *
Kelsey didn’t feel at all like eating.
Her stomach churned with nerves as she trailed behind her family on their way to the welcome dinner. She really would have rather stayed in the cabin for a while since they weren’t fighting for once. But she didn’t get a say in much that went on in her life. She did better when she used her smarts to maneuver things the way she wanted them to happen. Like making this trip to the Top Dog Dude Ranch happen.
Except she hadn’t thought beyond arriving. And what if it failed?
It couldn’t. The place was too perfect to fail.
Tapping her leg in time with the banjo music, she scanned the cookout, which looked fun, with an Old West vibe. The spread of food was pressed up against the back of the lodge on a wooden patio, a vine-draped awning overhead. A covered wagon wheel held drinks labeled sweet tea, water, lemonade.
A red-checked tablecloth with a burlap runner hugged the packed table. Her stomach eased enough that her mouth started watering for the corn bread, biscuits, corn on the cob, slaw and barbecue. Lantern lights twinkled above her favorite—macaroni and cheese. Except she wasn’t sure she would be able to eat anything.
She took an unsure step forward, being careful not to get so far back that her parents stopped talking to look for her, but not getting so close they spoke to her instead. So far, so good. Even Kacie was cooperating, more interested in looking at the grazing horses than in causing trouble. Kelsey scanned the group for allies, just like the heroine in her favorite mystery series would do. She needed grown-ups who understood her objective.
Other new arrivals approached her parents, extending hands to shake. She blinked in surprise. A wife pushed her husband in a wheelchair, a calico cat in his lap.
A hand rested on Kelsey’s shoulder. She jolted, glanced back, and found a dark-haired lady with a name tag that said Hollie. “Could I help you find something? We don’t want anyone to get lost.”
She shook her head. “I’m okay. Just watching everyone.” She held up her dog tag. “I’m Kelsey.”
“Ah, I remember you from your letter. Such a smartly worded email. I can tell you’re a good student.” Hollie pointed to the man holding the cat. “Did you know there’s a scientific reason that petting a cat is so soothing?”
“Seriously?” She stopped walking, intrigued that finally someone was speaking her academic language. She glanced back to check on her parents and they were standing close enough together she could take a minute to enjoy herself.
“Very seriously. A cat purrs at a frequency of around thirty hertz. That’s right around the same frequency that stimulates tissue regeneration.”
She frowned skeptically. “You’re making that up.”
“Not at all. It’s one of the miracles of nature we utilize here at the Top Dog Dude Ranch.”
“It’s a miracle and it’s science all at the same time.”
“Exactly. People who let the animals follow their hearts will feel the healing boost.”
She wished Kacie could understand this, too. It seemed like she should, given how much she loved horses. Maybe... “We have a cat named Waffles but he would rather play with my sister than sit in my lap while I study.” Kacie was more fun. “Are there other miracles your animals do that are science, too?”
“Riding horses is therapeutic. And using the senses while riding helps a person process emotions.”
Her gaze skipped over to Kacie stroking a horse’s chestnut-colored forelock over the split-rail fence. “Like my sister would rather ride a horse and I want to cuddle the cat.”
The lady’s smile grew, her blue eyes sparkling. “That’s a mature insight.” She nodded back to the couple with the cat. “He was a firefighter. He and his fiancée are here to recover from a particularly terrifying scare.”
His fiancée held his other hand, her brown skin glowing in the golden sunset. They seemed happy. Maybe she could get her parents to hang out with them. Maybe that would rub off.
And maybe there were more allies to be found.
Kelsey pointed to the trio of women in line ahead of her sister. “What about them?”
The three looked related, like a grand
ma with a silver ponytail, a mom wearing a headscarf and granddaughter with a long, fat braid.
“The mother just beat cancer,” Hollie whispered. “Their trip here is their celebration.”
Kelsey’s stomach flipped, her limbs and heart heavy. Images of Uncle Tyler packed her head. Some from photos and some from memories. Her mom said they’d thought the worst had happened when he had his aneurysm, only to find out it was actually yet to come.
What if they could have brought him here? Even if he couldn’t be cured by the doctors, at least he could have had some help dealing with how sad he was. Her eyes stung, the party going blurry.
A whistle pierced the air.
Hollie leaned down. “That’s my husband’s way of saying he’s ready to welcome everyone. I should go join him.”
The ranch owner offered a big wave, holding his buff-colored Stetson in his hand. Lines crinkled around his eyes. “Welcome to the Top Dog Dude Ranch. I’m Jacob O’Brien, and this lovely lady...” He gestured to the woman at his side, her jeans and red plaid shirt matching her husband’s. “This is my wife, Hollie.”
If he was that old and still with his wife, he probably knew a thing or two about helping couples connect. Kelsey made a mental note to talk to him later. For now, she tuned in to what he had to say, careful to catch every word.
“We founded the Top Dog Dude Ranch with the mission that it would be more than a vacation spot. We wanted to create a haven, a place of refuge with tools available to help enrich your life. It’s our hope that you carry a piece of the Top Dog experience with you.”
Smoothing the sable vest over her red plaid shirt, Hollie smiled brightly. She reminded Kelsey of her teacher before the pandemic shut down their school. The kind of adult that made you feel like they’d give you a warm hug.
Moving closer to her husband, Hollie swept back her dark ponytail. “If you came here with burdens on your heart, we hope that your time here will do more than refresh you. But that you’ll also find peace.”