Rainier Drive (Cedar Cove #6)(16)

“I—I d-did.”

“Cal,” she said. Because his kisses had such a powerful impact on her, she had to clear her throat. “Cal,” she said again. “I got your message and packed us a picnic lunch. What did you have in mind?”

“Y-you’ll s-s-see.” He took her by the hand and led her into the barn, where he had two horses saddled and ready to ride.

Linnette hesitated. “Ah…Have I mentioned that I’ve never been on a horse?”

“Yes. D-d-don’t worry.”

“I am worried,” she protested. “Okay, I have ridden before. I remember it now. When I was five years old, my dad let me ride a pony at the Puyallup Fair. I was terrified and he had to walk around the circle with me.”

Cal chuckled. “You’ll be ok-kay. Sheba—” he pointed toward the brown horse “—is an older m-mare. V-very gentle.”

“Promise?” The horses Cal had chosen were a whole lot bigger than that pony had been. Although she might be projecting her own fears, the mare seemed to give her the once-over and then snorted as if to say Linnette would regret it the minute she climbed onto her back.

“Promise,” Cal assured her.

She figured Cal had a romantic interlude planned, and her nervousness was about to ruin everything. In an effort to buy time, she returned slowly to her car and retrieved two sack lunches from the passenger seat.

Cal walked with her and kept his hand on the base of her neck. “D-don’t-t-t be afraid.”

“Afraid? I’m not afraid,” she lied. She thought she did a good job of it.

Cal seemed to believe her—or else he was equally good at pretending.

“So Sheba’s mine?” she asked as he took the sack lunches out of her hands and stored them in saddlebags on the larger of the two horses.

“Yup.” He gestured with his head toward the mare. “L-like I said, Sh-Sh-Sheba’s gentle.”

“Gentle is good,” Linnette murmured as she walked around and stood in front of Sheba, allowing the mare to get a good look at her. Sheba nodded her head a couple of times, apparently acknowledging Linnette’s presence. Maybe in Sheba’s view, Cal had vouched for her, Linnette thought whimsically. Tentatively, Linnette raised her hand and petted the mare’s dark muzzle.

With Cal’s help she mounted. As soon as Linnette was in the saddle, Cal adjusted the stirrups and handed her the reins. She felt very high off the ground—and correspondingly vulnerable. A fall off this horse could cause her serious injury. And yet she didn’t dare let Cal know how frightened she actually was.

After asking if she was comfortable, to which she nodded in response, Cal mounted the other horse, a chestnut gelding. He led the way out of the huge barn. Without needing any direction from Linnette, Sheba obediently followed Webster, Cal’s horse.

Although it was barely noon, the sun was out and the day promised to be glorious. Cal had given her some basic instructions, but riding was awkward at first. Linnette bounced and her teeth chattered until she learned to relax. Cal kept their gait slow and easy. When she felt confident enough to raise her head, she stared avidly at him, so handsome in the saddle, so natural. She remembered what she’d heard Cliff say once—he was a born horseman.

“Gloria?” Cal asked in that shorthand way of his.

He was asking about her sister, the one she’d only recently met. Her parents had fallen in love when they were both in college. Her mother was still a teenager when Gloria had been conceived—and then the romance had fallen apart. Disgraced and afraid, Corrie had moved back home with her family. Several months later, she’d had a baby girl and given her up for adoption. After the birth she’d returned to college. Without knowing about their child, Roy had sought out Corrie and they’d reunited. Only after they were engaged did Corrie tell him she’d had his baby. They’d agreed never to speak of the matter again, and they hadn’t, until Gloria tracked them down.

Needless to say, it was a shock to discover she had a sister. Linnette had been astounded, overwhelmed, bewildered. At the same time, she was excited. She’d always wanted a sister and, unbeknownst to her, the woman who lived in the same apartment complex and had already become her friend was also her sister. The bond between them had grown steadily stronger.

“Gloria’s fabulous,” Linnette told Cal. “We went out to dinner on Monday after work. The whole family’s getting together for Easter, and Gloria will be joining us.” This would be a real test for their family, Linnette realized. She knew her parents loved Gloria and welcomed her into the family.

It wasn’t the same, though, and Linnette recognized that, as did Gloria. Her adoptive parents had died in a plane crash and she had virtually no family left. She’d gone in search of her birth family for that very reason. Linnette’s parents, Corrie and Roy, were trying to make up for lost time, trying to fill in the gaps, exchanging information with Gloria about her history and theirs.

Cal was watching her intently as she spoke.

“It isn’t that we don’t want her or don’t love her,” Linnette went on to explain. “You know we do. What we don’t have is a shared past. She had another mother and father who raised, loved and nurtured her, and they’re her true family, her true parents.” Everyone, however—including Gloria—was determined to make an effort. This Easter would be their first holiday as a family.