Reunited with the Cowboy

by Claire McEwen

  “That’s very kind of you, Dex. Everyone has been very kind. I’m a lucky guy—I truly am.”

  He tried to feel it, the gratitude that should have him moved to tears right about now. Tears were close, but they were more about Maya than his ranch. And more about loss than gratitude.

  But the gratitude was there too, and maybe that was one more thing Maya had taught him. That it was possible to have a lot of feelings at once. After Julie had died, he’d let grief take over, as the one emotion he felt. And it had shattered his love for Maya and their future together. Now he could feel it all. His heartache over her, and a profound sense of awe that his town had shown up for him the way they had today.

  It was a whole lot of emotion, all jumbled and mismatched. And Caleb wanted to be numb enough to dull the jagged edges.

  “Caleb, there you are.” It was Jace, looking like he was still in dad mode, with a worried crease between his eyes. “I got your phone message just now—I couldn’t hear it too well. Are you okay?”

  The floor under Caleb’s feet felt a little unsteady when he rose to clap his friend on the shoulder. “Thanks for coming. Let’s celebrate my fancy, fixed-up ranch. Come on.” Caleb walked across the floor that seemed suddenly uneven, and braced himself on the wall while he wrote his name on the chalkboard for a pool table. Jeez, he was drunk. His tolerance must have gone way down. Or maybe alcohol just affected you a lot worse when your hopes had crumbled into dust.

  A hand came down on his shoulder. Jace was peering at him with worry and a touch of his usual humor. “You look like hell, my friend. What can I do? Bring you home?”

  “No.” That was the last thing he wanted, to go back to the ranch that had become his and Maya’s, their project, their vision. “Grab us a couple beers.”

  “I think you’ve had plenty to drink,” Jace said grimly. “I don’t see you for a few hours, and now you’re here looking like you got run down by a tractor or something. This has to be about Maya.”

  “She’s leaving for Colorado. She doesn’t want this.” Caleb gestured around the bar as if it represented all of Shelter Creek. “She doesn’t want us.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Caleb had to keep moving. Keep busy. If he kept busy, maybe he wouldn’t fall into the void where his heart used to be. A pool table was standing empty. It wasn’t Caleb’s turn yet; there was someone ahead of him on the list, but whoever that idiot was, he was forfeiting his spot. Caleb grabbed a cue and handed another to Jace. “Let’s just play pool.”

  “Hey, dude, that’s our table.” This from a college-aged kid who was sitting with his buddies, well into the pitcher of beer in between them.

  “It’s not your table if you’re not using it,” Caleb said.

  “My name is on the board.” The young man stood up unsteadily. “Can’t you read?”

  “What, you think I look stupid?” Caleb stepped forward, the frustration that he could push himself so hard to become the man Maya deserved and she’d still walk away making him lash out.

  Icy beer sluiced over him, washing off the last reason he should hold back. Caleb lunged and knocked the pitcher out of the kid’s hand, and heard Jace shout somewhere through the buzzing adrenaline, “Caleb, don’t!”

  It was too late. He was swinging hard, punching the guy who’d doused him in beer, wrestling off his buddy who’d jumped on his back. It was cathartic, going after this tangible problem, when there was so much he couldn’t solve.

  A blur of blows became his only issue. He took one to the gut, and another to the face. Jace jumped in to help him, but they were outnumbered. Still, they both kept swinging, kept going until the crowd parted and there were several sheriff’s deputies, and one of them was Adam, shaking his head in disgust as he snapped handcuffs onto Caleb’s wrists.

  In moments he and Jace were in the parking lot, in the back of Adam’s car, cuffed and bruised. Caleb’s head was spinning—whether from the alcohol or the punches, he wasn’t quite sure.

  Jace slammed a shoulder into him.

  “Hey!” Caleb turned, surprised to see his friend’s face drawn with rage.

  “Why can’t you keep your cool, Caleb? What the hell?”

  “He threw beer on me.” Caleb stared at Jace a little disoriented, his thoughts booze-blurred. Shouldn’t they be laughing about this right now? Plotting about how they were going to talk Adam into letting them go? “Why are you so mad?”

  Jace made a strangled noise of sheer frustration. “I came out for one beer, one damn beer, because you sounded upset. And you lose it. You get in a fight. Now I’m sitting in the back of this cop car when I have kids at home, waiting for me.”

  Caleb had never seen his friend so angry. Jace’s eyes were wide, his nostrils flared, and he rammed his shoulder into Caleb again.

  In another time, another place, it would have been funny—Jace furious, trying to fight him with his arms cuffed behind his back. But Caleb could see real fear behind the fury in his buddy’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Jace. When that guy poured beer on me, I just lost it.” Something in him crumpled. He was falling down into some dark Maya-less place. A chasm with no end he could foresee. But he hadn’t meant to drag Jace down with him.

  “Why are you so angry? Is it because of Julie? Because of whatever happened to you in Afghanistan? Because I’m sick of it, Caleb!”

  Jace was yelling now, and Caleb had never seen him lose it like this.

  “I’m sick of you being sorry for yourself. If you got messed up in the head in combat, go see a therapist. If you are sad about Julie, or Maya, cry. But stop trying to fix your problems with a bottle and a brawl.” Jace ran out of steam and sat back in the seat. “Or at least do it far away from me.”

  Caleb stared out into the dark parking lot, at Adam’s back, as the deputy wrote something on a tablet, probably some police form or another, getting ready to take them down to the jail.

  Jace’s words sat on his skin like a heated brand, stark and true. Here he was, drunk, acting like a sniveling victim. Again.

  “I’m sorry.” Jace’s voice was quiet in the dark. “I’ve got a lot at stake here. I’m trying to take care of these kids and I’ve got social services breathing down my neck, telling me every five minutes that I’m doing it all wrong. Getting arrested tonight—well, it’s not going to help my case.”

  Caleb’s stomach churned. “Could you lose the kids?”

  He’d never heard his friend’s voice sound so dull. “It’s a very real possibility at this point. I was never going to win any dad-of-the-year prizes, but...” Jace’s voice trailed off.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’ll do whatever I can to fix it.” Caleb cast around his foggy brain, frantic to repair what he’d broken. “I’ll tell them it was all my fault. I’ll meet with the social worker, or whoever, and I’ll explain.” The drink in Caleb’s stomach turned sour. He’d been so selfish, caught up in his own pain.

  “If I need you, I’ll let you know.” Jace blew out a long, shaky breath. “For now just start dealing with your problems. And not here, at Dex’s.”

  Shame was crushing Caleb down into the car seat. This was what Maya had predicted. One of the main reasons she’d left. She’d seen it too, this weakness in him. “I will. I’m really sorry, Jace.”

  They sat in silence for a long moment, and then Jace spoke again. “You’re in love with Maya?”

  “Yeah.” It felt good to confess it. To be honest for once about what he was feeling.

  “So, what the hell are you waiting for? Become the guy she deserves. Can’t you see you need help? Do you need any more proof than this?”

  Jace had nailed it. There was nothing like sitting in cuffs in the back of a cop car to tell you that something wasn’t right in your world. Caleb started laughing softly, and when Jace looked at him with a raised eyebrow, he laughed harder. “I’m sorry,” he
gasped. “But you’re right. It doesn’t really get more pathetic than this.”

  And then Jace was laughing too, and that’s how Adam found them when he finally opened the car door. Leaning on each other, laughing like a couple of hysterical, handcuffed fools.

  Out in the open air, Adam unlocked their cuffs.

  “Please don’t cite Jace,” Caleb said. “He wasn’t down here, drinking. He just came in to check on me. This was all my fault. I started that fight.”

  “All your fault?” Adam eyed Jace sternly. “No one made you jump in, Jace.”

  “True,” Jace admitted. “But he was outnumbered. What would you do?”

  Adam shook his head. “Not answering that. I wrote you up a ticket for disturbing the peace. Just pay it and we’ll call it quits.” He handed Jace a slip of paper.

  “Caleb, you’ll get a notice to appear in court. You’ll need to be there. Don’t mess it up.” Adam put a hand to Caleb’s shoulder and gave him a quick shake. “Dude, you have got to get some therapy.”

  Jace snorted a laugh. “It’s unanimous.”

  Adam looked from him to Caleb. “I’m not sure what’s funny about this. All I know is that, Caleb, if you do anything like this ever again, even ten years from now, I’ll lock you up and lose the key.”

  Caleb shoved his citation in his pocket. He thought he’d made progress. Thought he was growing up, making peace. Yet here he was, right back where he’d been when Maya first arrived in Shelter Creek.

  Jace got in his truck and drove away. It killed Caleb to think that he’d put Jace’s nieces and nephew at any kind of risk. Would they be sent to a different foster home because he’d messed up? It was almost too awful to think about.

  “You’re not driving,” Adam said.

  “Nope.”

  “You need a ride?”

  “Thanks, but I’m going to walk.” A long walk alone in the fog and the night. Because it was time he took a good look at himself. Maya was right. He had to find a way to face the hard times without blaming and drinking. Jace and Adam were right. He had to take responsibility and grow up.

  He’d start right now. “I’m sorry, Adam. You’ve given me a lot of breaks since I got home, and I messed up again. This is the last fight. The last citation. I promise.”

  Adam clapped him on the back. “I’m holding you to that.”

  Caleb turned and started walking. He had five miles in front of him. Five dark, quiet, country miles to sober up and get his head together. He remembered suddenly what Maya had said a few weeks ago. Sometimes the long roads are the ones worth walking.

  Tomorrow morning he’d call the VA and start on that road. He just hoped that if he worked hard enough, and walked long enough, his road would eventually lead him back to her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  MAYA SAT IN her cottage in Boulder and studied her to-do list. Unfortunately she’d checked off most of the items already, and she wasn’t scheduled to hike into the mountains and start her research for another week. Coming back early from Shelter Creek had given her a head start on all of her preparations. Her desperate need to stay busy, so she wouldn’t think too much, or hurt too much, meant she was way ahead of schedule.

  But with her to-do list done, she couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer. She’d promised Caleb she’d still help with the grant and make sure he had everything he needed. But for the past couple of weeks, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to open those files.

  She’d work on that now, get it over with and then she wouldn’t think about him ever again.

  Ha. That was like saying she didn’t need to eat or breathe. Thinking of him came naturally, every minute of every day. His rare smile, his dark eyes. The way he’d looked, awestruck and motivated, after they’d collared that lion. The way they’d kissed before she’d said goodbye.

  She’d driven back to Colorado, wondering if she’d made a mistake. But one homesick day, when she’d gone on the website for the Shelter Creek Sentinel, she’d come across the police log. And there it was. Caleb Dunne. Arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct the night she’d said goodbye.

  It had broken her heart all over again. And also made her think that she’d made the right decision about them. Caleb had a lot to figure out, and he had to do it on his own.

  She opened her laptop and clicked on the financial spreadsheet for the grant money. It was a shared document, and Caleb had made some notes on expenses, including batteries for solar-powered lighting and improved fencing in the corrals by the lambing shed.

  Seeing those impersonal notes felt personal. Footsteps he’d left behind as he walked through a life she couldn’t be a part of anymore.

  Her chat application pinged, and a window popped up. It was Grandma. They chatted every day, usually about her adventures with The Biddies. So much had already changed in the three weeks since Maya had left. Monique was a true cougar now, dating a younger man, a mechanic at Shelter Creek Auto. Annie and Juan Alvaro had been on a few very nice dates, and Grandma suspected they were falling in love. And The Book Biddies were reading a nonfiction book about powerful women in history. Grandma was inspired and thinking about running for a position on the town council.

  Trisha hadn’t been stopping by to visit as often lately, and Grandma was a bit concerned. And Einstein was doing well, but still slept near the door, as if he expected Maya to come home any minute. Maya had hated to leave her beloved dog. But she had decided, at the last moment, that he deserved a comfortable life. Not a life traipsing through the Rockies on three legs.

  Plus knowing Grandma had Einstein for company made Maya feel a lot less guilty about leaving.

  But oh my, she missed them both.

  Grandma’s next piece of news came through as if she’d written it in blinking neon.

  Caleb is doing well. He’s getting all kinds of help. He’s getting sober.

  That’s great to hear.

  But I know he misses you. He comes by with treats for Einstein and flowers for me, but it’s all just an excuse to ask how you are.

  Maya stared at the chat box. Coming back to Colorado had seemed like such an obvious choice when she’d made it. All she’d been able to think about was that falling in love with Caleb was dangerous. That coming home was safe, organized and planned.

  Yet now that she was here, all the things that used to feel like they gave her life meaning—the science, the work—seemed like...not enough. It still mattered, it still felt important, but it didn’t feel like enough.

  She’d created a life here that was safe from emotion and insulated from risk. Yet now her carefully crafted world felt sterile. And empty. Because there was no love.

  And not just love of Caleb. Maya typed to her grandmother again.

  I miss you. I miss you and Trisha and Annie and Mrs. Axel and everyone.

  Grandma wrote back.

  We miss you too. Eva got a few grants for her wildlife center. Also several big private donors are on board. It’s really going to happen. And she’d love it if you’d run it. Just saying.

  Maya stared as the words opened doors. Eva had done it. She was making her dream of a wildlife center come true. And there would be work for Maya, meaningful work, in Shelter Creek. Not just a summer contract from an underfunded government agency, but private money. She could do real, meaningful research on the lions there. She could ask Mrs. Axel to help her create more educational programs.

  And Caleb was getting help. She typed back to Grandma.

  That sounds amazing. I’ll think about it.

  Oh and one more thing and then I have to go meet The Biddies for movie night. I ran into Caleb today, and he asked me if you’d checked the website recently. The one you built for his ranch? I told him I’d remind you.

  Thanks Grandma. Have fun tonight. Love you.

  Grandma sent a few heart emojis and went offlin
e.

  Maya typed in the web address for the Bar D Ranch. She’d created this site for Caleb, so interested ranchers could learn about all the things he was doing to deter predators. She’d also added a page where people could follow the video feed from one of the most successful wildlife cameras she’d installed. She was surprised to see that it already had a few hundred followers.

  Although she’d taught Caleb how to post on the blog page, she wasn’t aware that he’d used it yet. So she was surprised to see several posts there. He’d blogged about the higher fences he was installing near the lambing shed. And he’d written about his flerd, with photos of his sheep and cattle standing around together, looking a little confused.

  Pride and excitement mixed as Maya read through all of his posts. The last one was a video he’d uploaded two days ago. With a mix of anticipation and dread at seeing him and hearing his voice, she clicked on it.

  He was standing by the newly painted barn wall, facing a camera he must have set up on a tripod, wearing his old battered brown cowboy hat and a self-conscious smile. “I’m Caleb Dunne,” he said. “Owner of the Bar D Ranch in Shelter Creek, California.”

  An orange blur had Caleb staggering off camera, and then returning with a sheepish smile. “And this is Hobo the cat.” Hobo looked at the camera and then nuzzled the brim of Caleb’s hat, knocking it askew. “He makes sure I don’t get too full of myself.”

  Maya smiled, tears rising as she took in his beloved face, his gruff voice, his ridiculous cat.

  “I just wanted to explain to you all why I’m doing the work I am here at the Bar D. You see, besides being a working sheep-and-cattle ranch, the Bar D is becoming a demonstration ranch for wildlife management. People can visit and learn about methods to keep common predators, like coyotes and mountain lions, away from livestock.

  “I didn’t used to care much about preserving predators. I thought they were a problem best solved with a rifle and a bullet. But then I met someone.”