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Sunrise Canyon (New Americana 1)

Page 37

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Grabbing the heavy box spring, Jake shifted it to one side. He was about to lug it to the trailer, but then he saw what had been hidden behind it. His pulse lurched. Drop-jawed, he stared, feeling like some ancient knight who’d just discovered the Holy Grail.

* * *

This afternoon Kira had her one-on-one with Brandon, a slim, polite boy with dark hair and eyes. Even before he began to open up, she suspected his secret. His father, who managed a Phoenix sports team, had sent his fifteen-year-old son to Flying Cloud Ranch in the hope that learning to ride would make him more “masculine.” Brandon was doing well with the horses, but Kira knew that the change his father wanted wasn’t going to happen.

“How long have you known?” she asked him.

He sipped the bottled water she’d given him. “I’ve always known I was different. But it’s only been in the past couple of years that I’ve understood how and why.”

“And you’ve never come out to anybody? Not even your friends?”

He managed an awkward smile. “Just you, so far. I figure that when I’m grown up and on my own, it won’t be so bad. Gays are pretty much accepted these days. But right now, if I told my dad, he wouldn’t be able to handle it. And it would upset my mother, too. For now, it’ll have to wait. Meanwhile, I really am enjoying the horses.” He stood. “Thanks. It helps to talk about it with somebody.”

“Talk to me anytime. And don’t worry, nothing we say will leave this room.” Kira was impressed with the boy’s maturity, but she knew that in the years ahead, he’d have some hard decisions to make. The best she could do was to help prepare him.

* * *

After Brandon left, she updated the files, shut down her computer and walked back down the hall to the living room. She found Paige alone on the couch. Her well-worn leather baby book, always kept on a shelf within her reach, lay open on the coffee table. Paige loved looking at the photos of herself as a newborn, seeing her little pink hospital bracelet, a single curl of her baby hair and the tiny ink-prints of her hands and feet. There were pictures of her with her toys and in the bath, pictures of her with her mother and even a few with Kira. But there were no photos of her father. Jake had been overseas during that early part of her life.

“Hi, Aunt Kira,” she said. “Are you through working?”

“For now.” Kira clicked through her mental list of appointments. Faith would be coming in at two o’clock; and after that, there’d be more work with the horses and a slide lecture about tomorrow’s outing to Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument. But right now, she had a little time to relax and be with Paige.

“Goodness, you do love that book, don’t you?” Kira sat down next to her. “Which picture is your very favorite?”

Paige thumbed toward the end of the book. “This one,” she said, pointing to an informal color photo with herself as a toddler, on her mother’s lap. It was a spectacular shot of Wendy, in an emerald-green blouse with her Titian hair flowing over her shoulders.

“My mom was beautiful, wasn’t she, Aunt Kira?” Paige asked.

“She was.” Aching a little, Kira gave her a hug. “And she loved you very much.”

Hearing a footstep, Kira looked up. Jake had come inside from the kitchen and was standing in the open archway between the dining and living rooms. Dressed in ragged jeans and a damp T-shirt that clung to his body, he looked sweaty and hot. Mostly hot, Kira conceded. Whatever else might be going on with him, Jake was calendar-model material.

He cleared his throat. “Excuse me. I was hoping Dusty would be here. I need to talk to him about something.”

Kira stood. “Dusty’s been napping, but I hear water running in the bathroom, so he must be up. Hang on, I’ll tell him you’re here.”

As she hurried down the hall, she could hear Paige saying, “Come here, Mister Jake. I want to show you a picture of my mom.”

Kira felt something sharp tighten inside her. Whatever was happening behind her in the living room, she feared it would not end well. But right now, there was little she could do.

* * *

Jake moved reluctantly to the end of the couch and stood looking down, past Paige’s shoulder.

“See?” Paige pointed to the color photo in the album, one Jake had never seen before. “That’s my mom and me.”

Jake gazed down at Wendy’s vibrant, laughing face. She was gorgeous. In the brief time they’d had together, he’d felt like the luckiest man in the world. Seeing her image, knowing she was gone forever, was like the twist of a cold knife in his gut. Maybe if she’d been waiting when he came home, he could have pulled himself together. But that chance was long gone.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Paige asked.

“She was beautiful—I mean in the picture,” Jake corrected himself. “And that little baby is you? Unbelievable!”

“Here’s another one.” Paige turned to a different photo. “Sit down, I’ll show you some more.”

“Thanks, but I’d better not—”

Jake broke off at the welcome sound of approaching footsteps. “Maybe another time, Paige,” he said. “Right now, I need to talk with your grandpa.”



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