Page 15

O ne look, and Claire had known. No way this new hand was Thomas. She knew Thomas, but more importantly, she knew Adam. Yeah, they were brothers, but still…

She tilted her head side to side as she watched him walk to the tack room.

He’s Adam, I’m sure of it . I’d bet my horse on it . Well, maybe not my horse .

Buttercup was her last real connection to her parents. Yeah, she had Grams, but her grandmother wasn’t able to do much.

Every time Claire rode Buttercup, it was like her father was riding beside her. Her mother, too, though she hadn’t ridden much, said that the bouncing was too much at her age.

The ranch hand who called himself Thomas strolled back into the stall, ready to tack up Buttercup.

Normally, Claire would help. She was quite capable of saddling her own horse.

In fact, she’d begged Grams to let her keep Buttercup at the house.

But nope. Her step-grandfather — Gramps, since she was three — said that he was too old to keep full livestock.

Other than a handful of chickens, an ornery old goat, and three cats that kept the rodent population down, the farm her grandmother had inherited produced little more than eggs.

Claire watched the ranch hand’s techniques, which, no surprise, were identical to how he’d taught her. True, Thomas and Adam’s father was a horse trainer, so he certainly taught both of them, but nope — she shook her head — she couldn’t see anyone but Adam…

“What’s wrong?” asked the hand.

She snapped up her head, confused. “I’m sorry. What?”

“You shook your head. Did I do something wrong?”

Embarrassed, she dropped her eyes. “No, of course not. I was just thinking about something.” She stepped next to Buttercup, stroking her muzzle. “Looks great — as always,” she added, but he just dipped his head again.

“All set.” He lifted the lead rope, walking Buttercup out of the stall and through the barn. “You’re experienced, right? You doing the full loop today?”

Claire smiled. “Yep. Been riding since I was seven. I’ve had Buttercup for four years. Your father trained him — remember? Well, you weren’t around the horses much; that was your brother.” She stared up at the eaves, watching the barn swallows fly in and out. “What was your brother’s name again?”

“I have two.”

“That’s right. Your youngest brother was a couple of years younger than me. Peter.” She laughed. “He was funny.” She looked up at the sky as they exited the barn. “What was your middle brother’s name again? He was in my grade, but he was so shy.”

“Adam,” he said, eyes down as he walked and stroked Buttercup’s golden mane. “She’s a great lady. Can’t go wrong with a Palamino Tennessee Walker. She’s definitely special,” he said softly.

Her breath caught at his tone. He wasn’t just talking about Buttercup. Not with that soft voice. “She definitely is,” Claire agreed.

Rusty left Shirley in the riding ring and ran up to them. “Hey, Claire. You should have told me you decided to ride. I would have —”

“Oh, yeah, I know.” Claire’s cheeks warmed like she’d been caught sneaking out. She waved at Shirley — a necessity — then focused on Rusty again. “I just decided since it’s so nice out, and…” She stumbled on the new hand’s supposed name for a second. “Thom… as was there, so I asked him.”

Rusty looked back at Shirley. “I’ll be right back.” He took the lead rope. “I’ll take Claire from here.”

The boy dipped his head, then turned and jogged off without comment.

Confused, Claire looked from Rusty to the new hand, who’d already made it back to the barn.

Then she caught Shirley’s eye again. Even horseback riding, the prissy girl dressed in a baby blue cardigan, dress pants, and pearls.

Claire wondered if she even owned a pair of jeans.

But mostly, with the girl’s 1950’s attitude, she wondered why she and Lala were even friends.

Shirley flashed her signature close-lipped smile and yanked on Snowball’s reins.

Unfortunately for Shirley, she pulled back on both, so instead of veering left, as Claire assumed she intended, the horse flung his head forward against the bit, trying to relieve the pressure — lurching Shirley off balance in the process.

Claire turned away quickly so that Shirley wouldn’t know she’d witnessed her blunder. Already, the girl would give Lala an earful. No need to make her angry.

“Thanks, Rusty,” Claire said as they approached the riding loop. “I can handle Buttercup from here.” She didn’t need a step stool, as he always offered.

He wrapped up the lead rope and handed Claire the reins.

Claire took hold of the worn leather straps, grabbed the horn, dug her left boot deep into the stirrup, then swung her right leg over Buttercup’s broad back.

She breathed in deeply, appreciating the spring morning.

As much as she loved riding, Adam’s pretense and Rusty’s reaction to him baffled her.

She’d thanked Rusty for his help with Boyd the previous evening, but had he expected more?

He’d always been kind, and he didn’t give her the heebie-jeebies like some of the hands.

Still, his protectiveness was concerning.

Yeah, she was sixteen, as he’d pointed out the previous evening, but she would be seventeen in a few weeks.

And while Boyd had been a royal-class ass last night, he was only eighteen.

She entered the track and clicked twice, letting Buttercup know she was ready to ride. The horse picked up her pace, but kept her gait at a gallop. She wouldn’t run unless Claire asked.

As beautiful as the day was, Claire couldn’t clear the buzzing in her head.

Why was she ninety-nine-point-nine-percent sure that the boy everyone else called Thomas — including her cousin, who had actually dated Thomas — was the boy she’d loved since kindergarten?

* * *

Claire wrapped Buttercup’s lead at the waiting corral and walked back to the barn since all the hands looked busy. All the hands except Thomas , who was nowhere around. As the new hand, he probably landed muck-out duty.

Technically, she wasn’t supposed to walk to the barn without an escort, but all the hands knew she was ranch savvy. Still, she wouldn’t walk Buttercup back to the barn. The last thing she’d want is for her to get spooked and take off running. If Buttercup hurt anyone, she would be responsible.

Entering the backside of the barn, Claire remained quiet. If she could catch him in a conversation, maybe overhear him admit something he shouldn’t…

The music playing stopped her in her tracks.

Not that it was unusual to hear the radio. It wasn’t.

Normally, especially on Sunday, when Clara Mae and Brett weren’t around as much, the hands would listen to the radio. But not to this.

When Rusty was working in the barn, the rock station would be turned to full volume. When George was assigned muck duty, country music filled the air. Frank stumbled around as if he were half-drunk most of the time. Or maybe he was just dancing to his own soundtrack playing in his head.

She heard humming, so she held back behind the door.

“… dreams that never will come true .” More humming. “ Go crazy is… ab… so… lute… ly right .”

She covered her mouth, trying not to laugh, but felt certain that she was ab… so… lute… ly right based on his music choice. Deciding she would play along — for now, she danced into the barn, twirling as she finished singing along with Yvonne Elliman.

“ If I can’t have you… Ah… ah… ah .” She took the pitchfork from him, swinging her head forward and singing into the handle. “ If I can’t have you, I don’t want nobody, baby … Oh… oh… oh. Oh !”

He laughed and clapped. “Nice!”

“ That was Yvonne Elliman ,” Casey Kasem said, and Adam — Thomas , she reminded herself — stopped clapping, looking toward the radio, “… holding at number two for the third week in a row with ‘ If I Can’t Have You ’ from the soundtrack ‘ Saturday Night Fever .’ Now, before we reveal this week’s number one song, we have a long-distance dedication … ”

“Ugh! Casey Kasem always makes us wait.”

Claire stepped to the radio, turning it up.

“I like the dedications. They’re sweet. Imagine being stationed overseas — Germany, Korea, or somewhere — and hearing your favorite song start playing, and then finding out it was your girl who dedicated it…

after you’d been gone for two years…” She smacked a hand over her heart.

“Besides, I already know what song it will be… since it wasn’t number two. ”

“I can imagine that…” He held her eyes for a moment, then took the pitchfork from her. “I haven’t heard the countdown for a while.”

“Really? How come?” Maybe she could learn why, which might lead him to answer where his brothers were.

Although, Lala did say that Thomas’s younger brother was here.

She hadn’t said the name Peter, but while Adam and Thomas looked a bit alike, Peter stood out.

Unlike Adam’s and Thomas’s light brown hair, Peter’s hair was black-as-midnight, like his mother’s.

So if this boy were actually Thomas, where was Adam?

The Dr. Pepper jingle I’m a Pepper started directly after the dedication. She hated that dorky jingle and was quietly relieved when he didn’t start singing along.

He walked to another stall. “Just been busy.”

The jingle ended and Casey Kasem came back on.

“ And now, for the seventh week in a row…” He dropped what he was doing and walked back to the radio , like he would miss it if he weren’t right next to it .

“… the Bee Gees hold on to the top spot with ‘ Night Fever, ’ another track from ‘Saturday Night Fever .’”

“Cool!” He moved to the beat as he returned to the stall he was cleaning.

Claire moved into the aisle, doing the moves she’d seen the previous evening.

He leaned the pitchfork against the wall, watched for a second, then copied. “Cool.”

Claire laughed. “You said that already.”

“Yeah, but I was talking about the song the first time.”

She stopped, gulping. Had he meant she was cool?

He picked up the fork again. “Where’d you learn those moves?”

“Oh…” She chuckled nervously. Of course he wasn’t talking about her being cool. Then again, she was doing the dance, so maybe he was. “I watched Saturday Night Fever last night. Well, half of it. I had to leave.”

“Leave?”

“Yeah. It’s showing at the drive-in. But I had to leave early.”

He stepped closer. “It is?”

Claire raked her teeth over her bottom lip as an idea formed. “Yeah. You know… I really want to see the end, but I won’t be seventeen for a few weeks…” He stared at her, so she stepped closer, lifting a hand to his arm, something she’d seen Lala do. “You’re eighteen, aren’t you?”

“Uh… yeah.” He coughed, stepping back and letting her arm fall away.

She tilted her head since the hand on his arm didn’t seem to work. “Would you like to go?”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah,” she said, laughing to ease his shyness. “Not to the first movie, though. It’s some karate flick. I already saw it.” When Boyd wasn’t sucking my face , she thought.

“Not good?”

“I’m not into dubbed films. I end up laughing at inappropriate times — when the audio doesn’t match the mouth movements. I’m pretty good at reading lips” She dropped her head, scrunched up her face, and touched just his hand. “It doesn’t have to be a date or anything. I know you’re dating Lala —”

He jerked his head back. “I’m not dating Lala. She… I haven’t seen her in nearly two years.”

“That’s right,” she feigned ignorance, but wanted to get this information out. “She’s dating Roger.”

He laughed. “Really? Roger Wheelan?”

Claire bristled. “Well, glad that doesn’t upset you. What’s wrong with Roger?”

He shrugged. “Nothing at all. He just… uh… I don’t know, doesn’t seem like her type. I always liked Roger — other than the fact that he hung out with Boyd.”

Claire pursed her lips. “What’s wrong with Boyd?” Even though she was mad at Boyd, she wondered why Roger hanging out with him was a bad thing.

He released a puff of air. “Sorry. Nothing’s wrong with either of them. I just never hung out with them.” He shook his head. “So, should I pick you up?”

Her heart thrummed hard. “Uh… No… I…” She hadn’t expected him to give in — and to suggest picking her up, even. That wouldn’t be good. Lala would make a scene. Claire needed to confirm one hundred percent that he was Adam before getting Lala involved.

He laughed nervously. “You don’t want to go anymore?”

“I do. I just… How ’bout I meet you here? Outside the gate, of course. I don’t want you getting in trouble with Clara Mae.”

“Why would I get in trouble with Clara Mae?”

Claire shrugged. “I’ve heard she doesn’t allow the hands to,” she made air quotes, “ fraternize with owners.” Based on the laughs and swears, the other ranch hands were returning to the barn, so she confirmed their date by saying, “The second movie starts just after nine. I’ll meet you out front the ranch at eight, okay? That should give us enough time.”

He dipped his head and smiled. “As you wish.”

Once again, he said the words from their shared past. Yeah, he’d said he read the book, but the way he’d said the words felt like he was trying to reach her. Like it was code for I’m Adam. I’m in here …

And that’s how she knew — ab… so… lute… ly — that he was Adam. It wasn’t just the words he said, the way he danced, or the songs he liked. It was the way he watched her — like she was someone he’d never stopped thinking about, the way she’d never stopped thinking about him.

Still, she had one final test. Tonight, at the drive-in. Almost exactly one hour into the movie, she would know — beyond a shadow of a doubt — that he was her Stableboy . Her Adam .