“What?” I kept my tone gentle.
“The ambulance ride, the hospital…the whole thing made me relive the day Luke and his dad were killed.” She seemed caught in a memory before snapping herself out. “I knew Henry’s injury wasn’t that serious, but it’s hard to be rational about things like that.”
“Sounds perfectly rational to me,” I said. “He’s your little boy. Of course you’d worry.”
She brushed the hair back from her face and sighed. “I’m so scared of losing Henry. I’ve tried to get past that anxiety.”
“Grief and fear are tough enemies to beat.” I thought about leaving the discussion with that, but I wanted to give her something more. “Like me, Jennifer’s adopted, but she joined the family as a teenager. She was thirteen and angry with the world, and I think grieving because her real family didn’t want her. She was afraid that no one ever would. She’d spent two years in the foster system before my parents adopted her.”
“Poor girl,” Amy said sympathetically.
“Yeah, it wasn’t pretty,” I said, remembering those first months. Jennifer lashed out at everyone. The smallest thing riled her, and my parents had despaired of ever reaching her. But they’d persisted. “It took time, a lot of counseling, and some power tools, but she got better.” People didn’t realize how controlling the past could be. It had almost dragged Jennifer under.
“How did power tools figure in?” Amy swung her gaze to me.
“My parents own a construction and remodeling business,” I explained. “Jennifer realized that she was good at carpentry and finish work. She spent a lot of time in the shop working out her angst. Still does. I don’t think she has much angst now, but she loves building. She’s an architect now but she loves working with her hands.”
“Your folks gave her what she needed,” Amy said, a thoughtful note in her voice. “That was wise of them.”
“My parents are wise people, and I felt damn lucky that they’d adopted and raised me.” Amy seemed to tense at that and I reached out to put a steady hand on her arm. “Now that I’ve met my birth mom, I have to say that my life probably would have been good either way. It’s clear that Laura has a strong bond with Jake and Brian, and she raised those two well. I’m sure it was the same for Luke.” The tension didn’t leave her with that and I pulled my hand away. A part of me wondered what Amy needed to move on from her husband’s death. Or was that even possible? She still wore her wedding ring—a simple gold band that spoke louder than anything else. I’d like to think that my concern was because I liked her. It seemed to me that she deserved to be happy.
“Do you mind that I accepted Laura’s invitation to dinner?” I asked as we pulled into the driveway of my bed and breakfast.
“No…well, Ididmind,” she said, “but now that we’ve talked, I’m glad you’re coming. Henry is, too. He was worried that you were mad at him because he lied to you.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing him again. You can let him know that while I’m disappointed in the lie, I’m not mad.” The kid was desperate to ride again, and I understood the feeling. I didn’t think I could handle not being in the saddle for months at a time. Even now, I was itching to ride.
I wished her goodbye and got out of her car. Having dinner at the ranch had several advantages. I’d get to see Henry, who seemed like a great kid, and I was looking forward to spending more time with Amy. Awkwardness or not, I liked her, more than I’d liked a woman in a long while and from her small looks and blushes, I hoped that I’d read her right and that she felt the same.
THIRTEEN
CAL
The thought of spending more time with Amy stuck with me throughout the day until I met up with Rafael at the Roundup—a local tavern—for beers and a burger. As I walked in I was surprised to see Jake Thorne sitting with Rafael, but I didn’t mind getting better acquainted with my half brother. Word had spread all over town that I was related to the Thorne clan, and I was sure people would take notice of us together. If I was going to be sticking around for a month, I’d rather the town get all of their staring and gossiping out of their systems sooner rather than later.
“Come watch this,” Jake invited, when he caught sight of me. “The teacher’s getting all worked up.”
“If you hide the truth from kids,” Rafael gestured with the beer in his hand, “you’re not doing them any favors.”
“What truth is being hidden?” I settled in to hear the story, indicating to a server that I’d like a beer, too.
“The new American history textbooks came in this morning for my junior classes. I was flipping through the pages as I unboxed them.What I saw made me want to shove them back in and send them back to the company.” Rafael’s face was red with anger. In most things, Rafael was as easygoing as they came—but he had a tendency to get worked up over history. Especially when he felt like someone’s story wasn’t being told.
“What’s wrong with the books?” I had once seen a textbook printed upside down, but clearly this was worse.
“They completely gloss over the Colorado War.” Rafael slammed his beer onto the shiny surface of the table. “The textbook writers declared ita brief moment in the US expansion,” he made air quotes around the phrase, “and skipped right over the fact that the US Army brutally attacked a defenseless camp of Cheyenne and Arapaho leading to the Sand Creek Massacre of 1864.”
I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. I went to school in Texas, and there was no way any of my history teachers would’ve covered it unless it was a major event during the Civil War.
“I’m sick and tired of the continual attempts to whitewash the behavior of the Union army out here in the west because history books would rather showcase the larger battles that took place between the Union and the Confederacy. No one ever wants to talk about the systemic attempts to annihilate entire tribes all in the name of ‘manifest destiny.’” Rafael continued. “The massacre caused the tribes to band together, and they began raiding towns and small communities in retaliation for the loss of so many lives. When they were finally stopped, rather than the US government providing any kind of restitution for all that was taken from them, they were kicked out of Colorado. Shameful behavior on behalf of the government. We can’t keep sweeping things like this under the rug.”
“You do know you can’t cover everything, right? The whole point of hitting the highlights is to give students a broad education,” a guy sitting at the table next to us said.
“Josh, if you’re unwilling to side with my outrage, then you can mind your own damn business,” Rafael said with a scowl.
“Now, you know I can’t do that. Not when it’s so fun to see you all riled up,” this Josh said.
Jake tilted his glass toward the other table. “Cal, meet Josh Cafferty. He owns Lost Valley Ranch southwest of town. If you’ve seen any signs about trail rides, well, that’d be him. Josh, in case you’ve been living under a rock these last few days, this is my half brother, Cal.”
