But it didn’t work out great.
Melinda felt self-conscious, after this morning. She’d hated being caught out by a stranger when everything was in such a mess, not just the quilting fabric she’d been trying to sort through in the living room, but the unfinished tasks in the kitchen, as well. And then she’d gotten mixed up about the newcomer—this girl Jamie had brought out to the ranch for a ride—calling her Austrian instead of Australian.
Marietta looked so festive for the big rodeo weekend, even busier than usual, since it was the 75th, and there were bright banners and western-themed decorations everywhere, making Melinda wince a little at some of the color combinations. Color was important. Some people just didn’t seem to see it the same way she did.
She and Robbie took a stroll down the busy streets. They met Annabeth Collier outside the pharmacy, and the older woman told them importantly, “There are some very significant changes coming to this town over the next year.” She looked happy, in a very Annabeth kind of way. “My… ahem… future son-in-law will be one of the key personalities involved.” She went on too long, using officious language, and Melinda soon tuned out, thinking it might be nice to drop into Sage Carrigan’s candy store and buy some chocolate.
After Annabeth had passed by, Melinda said to Rob, “I thought Chelsea Collier and Tod Styles broke up.”
“That’s not who she was talking about,” Rob answered. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Well, I’m not. Not really.”
“Good,” he said gruffly.
Melinda changed the subject. “I thought we could visit Sage and buy a box of her chocolates. Those salt toffee ones she makes are so good, especially the dark chocolate version, I could die.”
“They’re pretty nice,” Rob agreed.
“And Jenny,” Melinda said.
Rob didn’t follow. “What?” He’d begun to sound the faintest bit irritable again, although she could tell he was trying not to. She didn’t know which were harder – the rare times he was irritable, or the much more frequent times he should be, but managed to keep his mood in check.
He was such a strong, good-looking man, still in his prime. Ranch work kept him fit and muscular and lean, and he didn’t drink enough to have grown the paunch that swelled above the waistlines of so many men his age. His hair had a little gray in it, and the hairline had slipped back a little, but so what? When she saw him unexpectedly, coming round the corner of the barn or appearing in the kitchen doorway, she still felt a thrill of sudden happiness, even after thirty years.
Did he still love her? Really? She hadn’t asked him in a while. He always said he did, but he said it too patiently and gently, as if he was just humoring her. It didn’t mean anything if he was only fobbing her off, so she tried not to ask.
Sometimes she couldn’t understand how he could love her. Not anymore. Not since the triplets, even though it wasn’t her fault.
She’d already been pregnant with Rose when she and Rob had been married, when Rob was just nineteen and she was a year younger. Then they’d had another oops the following year, and that was RJ.
Then they’d thought they might as well go for a third and be done, get those crazy toddler years over in one short burst while they were young and capable. Except somehow they’d conceived triplets.
The pregnancy that time was a horror and her body hadn’t taken it well. She’d developed gestational diabetes and high blood pressure and –
No, she didn’t want to tell the kids! Or anyone! Rob was wrong!
Everyone knew how hard those years had been, both of them in their early twenties, with five kids barely more than two years apart in age. They could never have managed without Kate, but thank goodness Kate had her own life, now. How would it help to tell people what had happened that day when she’d collapsed in the house while Rose and RJ were asleep and Kate was teaching and Rob was out on the range? How would it make any difference?
Rob had found her. The ambulance had come. The triplets had been born via emergency C-section that same night.
“You didn’t answer me, honey,” Rob said.
“What… sorry?”
“You didn’t answer.”
“I forget what we were talking about, now.”
“That’s okay. Let’s stop in for that candy and head over to the rodeo ground, or we’re going to miss watching Jamie ride.”
Sage wasn’t in her store, it was her assistant behind the counter, and Melinda didn’t really know her, so they didn’t linger there. They sat in the stands at the rodeo ground and ate some of the candy, the chocolate coating so dark, the toffee so sweet, and then those tiny, surprising flecks of salt. Mmm…
She saw Colton Thorpe signing autographs with a good-natured word for everyone who asked. He even posed for pictures, seeming not to notice how many eyes were drawn to every movement he made through the crowds. He was a very nice-looking man, Melinda had to admit – although not as handsome as Rob, from her own point of view. Nobody ever was. She knew that was silly and not really true. Of course there were better-looking men, but none of them were her man, so their looks didn’t count.
She enjoyed watching Jamie, but his ride was over so fast, and she didn’t enjoy the crowds or the noise. She kept feeling as if she might miss something. Miss someone greeting her, or politely asking her to move out of the way, and then she’d be embarrassed, and they’d be talking about her behind her back.
Melinda MacCreadie is the vaguest woman on earth.
She’d overheard Carol Bingley in the pharmacy saying this to someone a few years ago. She’d been browsing a shelf, looking for lip balm, and Carol hadn’t seen that she was in the store, so she’d just slipped out again after she’d heard the scathing, hurtful words – even though they were probably true – and had put up with dry lips, instead.
“Let’s go home,” she said to Rob.
He put his arm around her, which was nice. “Don’t you want to go down and speak to Jamie?”
“Oh, not today. He’s busy.”
“So you want to come in again tomorrow? Looks like he’ll make the finals, after that re-ride.”
“Yes, we’ll come in again,” she said, hoping Rob would decide he had too much to do on the ranch. She promised herself she would be better tomorrow, more optimistic and positive. Rob was right to think they should come. The vaguest woman on earth wasn’t the same as being disliked.
On the way out to the pick-up, they saw several people they knew, and she managed much better than she thought she would. Sage Carrigan was so pretty and friendly. She had the most beautiful, vibrant red hair like copper and autumn leaves. “Oh, you love the salt toffee chocolate?” she said, beaming. “I’m so glad!”
Bill Shanahan had a ranching conversation with Rob, and they both agreed there was a section of shared fence along their boundary that needed some work. Gemma Clayton said a quick hi. She’d taught history to a not-very-studious Jamie in high school when she was a freshly-qualified teacher, ten or eleven years ago, and he’d given her a hard time.
Gemma was amazing with teens, though, even the ones going right off the rails, and her own daughter Bree – who must be sixteen or seventeen by now – was a delight, according to Kate. Rob’s sister had quite a protective attitude toward Gemma, maybe because she was a single mom.
“I’m looking for Bree,” Gemma said to them now. “You haven’t seen her?”
“No, sorry, we haven’t,” Melinda said.
“Oh, it’s no problem, she’ll text me in a minute, I’m sure.”
Chelsea Collier had a gorgeous man on her arm, whom Melinda didn’t know, but she and Rob only passed the couple with a smile and a wave, so she didn’t get to find out who he was. She was sure there were all sorts of people in town who’d be able to tell her!
There, she thought as they reached the pick-up, nothing wrong with any of that. I didn’t say anything stupid, and no one was mean. I’m not always the vaguest woman on earth. Sometimes I’m pretty good.
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br /> And the rodeo was pretty good, too. All those amazing riders in their western shirts and fancy chaps and cowboy hats. The smell of hot popcorn and cotton candy and corn-dogs and beer. The sight of sun on a beautiful horse, bringing out the rich colors in its well-cared-for coat. The heart-stopping way the seconds counted up to eight in the bareback and bull-riding and saddle bronc, and every single time, no matter who the rider was, Melinda had her breath held and her fingers crossed, hoping they’d stick the ride.
“It’ll be fun, coming back tomorrow,” she told Rob.
“Good girl,” he said.