Of course, Rachel knew that Kate wasn’t Chloe’s actual grandmother. The family connections between the Jessops, Kendalls, and Benedicts were more than a bit confusing to her. What she did know was that practically everyone in town called the woman Grandma Kate.
Everyone including Rachel and Libby.
“Have you and Bonnie decided what movie you want to go see on Saturday?” This sleepover had been in the planning for a couple of weeks. Rachel worked every Saturday and was usually off by two, but on this Saturday coming up, she’d be working a bit later.
Libby grinned. “It’s a toss-up between Bumblebee and A Star Is Born.”
“I’ll have to have a chat with Bonnie’s parents,” Rachel said. “I think the second one you mentioned might be a bit more on the adult side.” She felt no compunction coordinating with Tasha, Clay, and Gord. All three were as involved in their kids’ lives as Rachel was in Libby’s.
“But Mom…Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper!” Libby gave an uncharacteristic little whine and sent her a perfect puppy-dog-eyes look.
And wasn’t it just freaking awesome that they were having an ordinary, every-kid-and-parent kind of a tussle?
“I know. But I still need to touch base with Bonnie’s parents. You might think the difference between fourteen and seventeen is only three years, but it can be a lot more than that for some kids.”
Libby lost the puppy-dog eyes and sent her a matter-of-fact look. “I already know about sex, Mom.”
“Of course, you do.” Rachel returned her matter-of-fact look and tossed in a raised eyebrow.
It was the signal that a continuance of the discussion wasn’t going to net Libby any gains.
Her daughter sighed, and it was only a little dramatic. “Okay. I’ll keep my fingers crossed. What time are you done working on Saturday?”
“My shift finishes at five, so I’ll gather the two of you up from Bonnie’s house as soon as I come home and change.”
Clay Dorchester had offered to pick up Libby at two and take her to Healing Rides. After her session there, he’d bring her home with him. That was another thing to be grateful for in this town.
There was never any shortage of people willing to lend a hand. “Then it’s pizza and movie and back to our place for the ‘Girls Only, No Dumb Brothers Allowed sleepover.’” Rachel was getting better at saying that without laughing. Apparently, Bonnie was going through a stage of aggravation with both of her older brothers. Perfectly natural, but, in Bonnie’s words, “a total pain.”
“We’re going to do makeup and hair,” Libby said. “Mine isn’t very long yet, but Bonnie has got a good eye and knows what would look good. Her stepmom, Tasha, is a whiz at makeup, and she’s taught Bonnie everything.”
“That sounds like a perfect sleepover agenda,” Rachel said. In fact, it was a perfectly normal sleepover agenda. Rachel put her attention back on her baubles because, if she kept her focus on Libby, she’d probably start to blubber like a baby. One year cancer-free and acting like a normal teenager. Dreams, Rachel mentally acknowledged, do come true.
I’ll save my happy tears for shower time. Rachel had found, over the last couple of years, that shower time was the best time and place to purge the fear and the pain. This would be the first time she’d used it to hide tears of thanksgiving and joy.
* * * *
As Trace waited beside Brandon for the ranch manager to join them, his thoughts returned to where’d they’d spent so much time the last couple of days—Rachel Cosgrove.
He’d never been so instantly captivated by a woman, never before felt so completely drawn. Her sweet, heart-shaped face with its pert nose and luscious lips had visited him in his dreams the night before. Her curves called to him, and he had no trouble picturing her naked, between him and his best friend, the man he’d come to think of as his brother.
No, my trouble is stopping that sexy imagery from traipsing across my mind on a continuous loop.
Brandon lightly nudged him as an older man came out of the barn and approached them.
He held out his hand and greeted both of them by name.
“It’s good you’re both able to give us time on Saturdays,” Ernie Morris said. “As you can imagine, it’s our busiest day.”
“Understandable,” Trace said. “How many certified instructors do you have here now, Mr. Morris?”
Trace and Brandon had followed the instructions in the email they’d received the day before, arriving at the Healing Rides Ranch and for this introductory meeting with Ernie Morris, the ranch manager.
As they’d planned this move to Lusty, they’d chatted back and forth, Brandon and he, about what they could volunteer for once they were living here. Trace was already aware of equine therapy, and specifically, he’d heard about Healing Rides.
Thanks to several years spent working part-time helping Steven Benedict and, for a while at least, Chase and Brian Benedict, he knew quite a bit about horses, and he could ride as if he’d been born to the saddle. Once in California, he’d volunteered at a children’s center for at-risk youth.
Brandon had also garnered experience with horses and children, though the latter in a different manner. He’d worked with orphanages and group homes wherever he’d been stationed, be it in war-torn Afghanistan or those close to some of the bases he’d been assigned to stateside.
They’d agreed that Healing Rides was the very best of both worlds. Fortunately, Mr. Morris had just confirmed that they didn’t mind that, for the most part, the two of them only had weekends available. Weekends were basically the only time Brandon had to give, and while Trace lived in town all week, he was on call into the evenings on most days.
Mr. Morris grinned. “It’s just Ernie,” he said. “Well, there’s Paulette and myself. Then Shar, of course—Dr. Benedict—and her husbands, Jesse and Barry, and their sister, Addison Jessop-Jones.” Ernie nodded. “That’s six. We’d thought that would be plenty, but
