by Leigh Riker
“One good reason why I’m living in New York.”
“And why I come into town as seldom as possible. You didn’t have to defend me, Noah.”
“Yes,” he said, “I did.”
Kate had kept her cool during her conversation with Bernice, but she was now on the verge of a familiar panic attack. Maybe she wouldn’t order those supplies today. The ranch had enough for another week or so—
Noah said, “Bernice Caldwell may not let you off the hook, but I hope I was persuasive.”
“Thank you.” Remembering her promise to herself, Kate tried to step around him. “Now I have to go. I need to get back to Sweetheart Ranch.”
Noah stopped her with a light touch on her arm. “Kate. Why care what anyone in Barren has to say? We both know nothing inappropriate happened at the Bluebird.”
“And in time, the talk will die down. There’s always another news flash.”
“Yeah, but I don’t know how you take it.”
“Because Barren really is a great place to live, to raise a family.” Not that he would know. Noah had left the WB before the ink had dried on his college degree. He’d spent his last two summers interning in Denver then LA, and by then he’d already been gone most of the year, much to Rob’s dismay. And, she supposed, Noah’s father’s. She eased back from his hold. “I really have to go.” She glanced at his leg. “I hope you’re feeling better.”
“Some, thanks.” He seemed to want to linger. “I’m glad I got to meet your son the other day. He’s a good kid.”
“He is,” she said, heart thumping, but the last thing she needed was a touchy-feely talk with Noah, even after he’d dealt with Bernice. Her mental list forgotten, Kate strode down the aisle, then out the front door. On the sidewalk, she spied a dark-haired woman coming toward her. It was her friend Lizzie Barnes—no, Maguire, now that she’d remarried.
Lizzie waved. “Wait up, pal.” Her green eyes sparkling, she hugged Kate. “You’d think in such a small town, we’d run into each other all the time. I haven’t seen you in ages.”
For a few minutes, they chatted about Teddie, then Lizzie’s second husband and her children from her first marriage, plus the baby she and Dallas now had together. “Hannah’s not a year old yet and almost walking. I swear, she moves faster than all three of my others combined. Dallas has spent the past week sticking protective covers over all the outlets in our house and putting locks on the cabinet doors. I can’t get into anything these days—but, even still crawling, she’s like a wizard.”
Kate laughed but envied Lizzie. Oh, how she would have loved a sister or brother for Teddie. She worried that because they spent so much time together, he would become spoiled. He still wasn’t talking to her after Kate had refused to let him visit Noah.
“I have a bone to pick with you,” Lizzie said next, not looking angry at all. She nudged Kate in the side. “We’ve had several Girls’ Night Out meetings where you were noticeably absent, and we keep asking each other when you’re going to break your fast, as it were, and join us again.”
Kate glanced behind her. “I keep meaning to, but something always comes up.”
“We all have other commitments, but those get-togethers keep us sane. Really, get off that ranch the next time.” She softened her tone. “We miss you, babe. Oh, and when you do come, bring wine.” Lizzie peered past Kate’s shoulder and across the street. “Why do you keep looking over there?”
“I just encountered Bernice,” Kate said, “who’s probably staring at us right now from the emporium. She oozed sympathy for my loss, as she always does, then couldn’t resist mentioning that I stayed at a motel with Noah Bodine.”
“How fun,” Lizzie murmured.
“I haven’t recovered yet—about her, I mean. That woman makes me paranoid, and then, to put the icing on the cake, I ran into Noah again here.” He was still inside the store.
Lizzie raised her eyebrows. “That man has a lot to offer.”
“Not to me. Please, Lizzie, don’t be like Bernice.”
“Sorry, you know I won’t take part in any gossip. I had enough of that myself.”
Before she’d married Dallas, Lizzie’s ex had shamed her in front of the whole town when he was the one who’d committed adultery. She still disliked being in the public eye, if not as much as Kate did now about her sad widowhood.
Lizzie caught her gaze. “You’re not mad?”
“No. I’ll try to make the next meeting. I just need to get...home.”
Without another word, in full panic mode now, she hurried off. Away from Noah.
Back to her comfort space, the safety she so badly needed at Sweetheart Ranch.
Away from the pain.
* * *
EVEN IN WINTER’S slow season, there were chores to be done, and Noah was on a horse again—Willow’s mare, this time, not Midnight—riding fence that afternoon with one of the WB’s cowhands. They picked their way through the now-muddy field. That first blizzard was gone, but in retrospect Noah preferred the snow.
“You sure you want to do this?” Flicking dark hair off his face, Calvin Stern gave him the side-eye. “I can manage by myself.”
“I’m fine. Just a bit sore still, that’s all.” An understatement. His ankle didn’t agree.
“Spending today in the saddle won’t help. By tonight—”
“I said I’m okay.” Noah didn’t know Calvin well, and he shouldn’t have used that sharp tone, but Hadley Smith had been right. None of the hands, especially Wilkins, seemed to respect Noah’s ability to take over from Zach or to do a decent job. Sure, as a cowboy, Noah was rusty. Who wouldn’t be after so many years off the ranch? But this area of the country was one in which manly men still ruled. And Noah had his pride. “I may have done a fool thing taking Midnight out, but I learned my lesson. Who hasn’t?”
A few years ago, in a different way, Calvin had gotten into some trouble when he and two other young cowboys stole cattle from another ranch. They’d been let off easy, and Calvin, who’d worked for others before he’d been hired at the WB, was, by all reports, a devoted family man now with a wife and son. Reformed, people said, and that was enough for Noah too.
“What’s that over there?” He pointed toward the far corner of the fence line between the WB and Sweetheart Ranch.
“Looks like trouble.”
“Let’s ride,” Noah said and bumped Silver in the sides with his heels.
They cantered across the sloppy field. Noah spied Kate’s boy on the other side of the fence, on his knees in the mud, sobbing, and alarm swept through him. Teddie’s pony, wild-eyed, pranced in place, or tried to. He was obviously hurt.
Reaching the boy, Noah slid off his horse. “How did this happen, Teddie?”
He raised tear-streaked eyes to Noah. “I wanted to visit you.”
Calvin dismounted too. Nearby, part of the fence wire lay, beaten down, almost to the ground. “Looks like they tried to jump this gap.”
“Jump it?”
Teddie shuddered with another sob. “We almost did, N—I mean, Mr. Bodine. But his legs are too short, and Spencer couldn’t make it.”
Calvin was on his knees now, running his hands over the pony. “Hope he didn’t break—” He glanced at Teddie, whose eyes couldn’t get any wider behind the thick lenses of his black-framed glasses.
Taking his cue, Noah led the boy away from the scene. “Let’s leave Mr. Stern to check Spencer out.” He hunkered down to meet Teddie’s gaze. “Does your mother know you’re out here by yourself?”
Teddie looked down at the mud. “Maybe.”
“Tell the truth.” He couldn’t imagine Kate letting her boy take off on his own.
“I forgot to tell her.”
“Theodore Robert Lancaster.” Even Noah knew that was a lie. He’d been a kid once, bent upon every adventure that crossed his path. He still
was. He also remembered his father’s wrath whenever he’d strayed. “I’m flattered that you decided to come visit, but—just taking a guess here—I bet your mother is worried sick by now.”
“Noah.” Calvin had straightened beside the horse. “Think we’re okay, but I’m going to call the vet. He’ll prob’ly want to see this pony.”
“You stay with him, then. I’ll take Teddie home—borrow Kate’s trailer rig.”
Calvin lifted Teddie up onto Willow’s mare, then Noah mounted with only slight difficulty. Holding the boy close across his lap, he picked up the reins.
On the ten-minute ride to Sweetheart Ranch’s barnyard, Noah could practically feel the remorse coming off Teddie in waves, and by the time they reached the house, he was trembling. As soon as Noah stopped the horse, Kate flew out the back door.
“Teddie! I was so frightened. Where have you been?” But he didn’t answer.
Noah handed her son down to her. “He took a little ride to the WB.”
“A ride? On your own?” Fresh fear flashed in her eyes. “Where’s Spencer?”
Teddie gestured behind them. “Out there.”
Kate met Noah’s eyes, as if begging him not to say that something terrible had occurred. “It’s okay,” he said. “The pony misstepped but—”
She glanced at Teddie’s muddy clothes. “Doing what?”
“Um, jumping the fence,” he said.
“‘Jumping’?” she echoed. “You were jumping, Teddie?”
Noah leaned on his saddle horn. “Spencer’s... He’ll likely be fine. One of the WB hands has called the vet.”
She turned on Teddie. “How many times have I told you? You are not to leave this yard without permission. You certainly aren’t allowed to start jumping that pony. Do I need to take him away from you?”
“Please, Mommy. Don’t. I won’t do it again.”
“And what did we say about bothering Mr. Bodine?”
“He’s good, Kate. I don’t min—”
“Teddie, go into the house.” She waited, all but tapping her foot, until Teddie slunk off, his head down and with more dry sobs. Then she whirled to face Noah. “I don’t care whether you mind or not. Teddie is my child, and I make those decisions.”
Noah’s mouth tightened. “Which I imagine is a blanket one, meaning no.”
She glared at him. “How can that possibly matter to you?”
Her tone made Willow’s mare, Silver, shift her weight, ears flat against her skull. “It matters because I think you’re being way too hard on that kid right now.” The door had banged shut behind Teddie. “If you don’t want him to visit, I get that. I’m only here till Willow gets back—yadda yadda. However...”
“Don’t ‘however’ me. You know nothing about my situation, except for the fact that because of you, my husband isn’t here any longer.”
Trying not to flinch, Noah climbed off the mare. He looped her reins around the rail in front of the barn. “Forget your opinion of me. We’re wasting time.” He shot a look at the darkening sky. More snow was predicted, and the temperature was already dropping. “Let’s hitch up your trailer. Then I’ll drive out to pick up the pony, and you can punish that boy more than he’s already punished himself—I won’t have to see it.”
“I’ll drive the rig. Teddie will wait with Meg until I get back.”
“One of the WB Gators mired in the mud earlier. What if you get stuck?”
“I’ll unstick myself.”
Noah shook his head. “You are one stubborn—”
She jabbed a finger at his chest. “Don’t you dare make some sexist remark.”
Noah threw up both hands. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
For a long moment, they stood there, as if squaring off for a showdown at the OK Corral. Then, finally, Kate sighed. “All right. Maybe I can use the help.” She looked him over, ending at his ankle. “That is, if you’re up to it.”
* * *
THAT EVENING, KATE was back in her happy place—one of them. In the kitchen, rather than the barn after dusk, she removed the lid from her biggest pot and inhaled what had turned out to be an enticing aroma, if she did say so herself. Usually cooking chores were part of Meg’s duties, but in the dead of winter, Kate had more time on her hands, and nothing was better on a cold, possibly snowy night again than a hearty beef stew simmered to perfection. Fond memories of the years with her dad when, by necessity, she’d learned to cook followed her from stove to table. So did her set-to earlier with Noah.
Trying to block that out, she assessed the four place settings of her mom’s best china. An ivory damask tablecloth that had belonged to Kate’s grandmother. The crystal water glasses Mom—no, call her Ellie—had brought from her family home in Chicago, determined as a bride to become a rancher’s wife. That hadn’t worked out, but at least she’d left these legacy items behind. Along with Kate’s father. And Kate. Five was too young to lose your mother. Anytime was, really, another reason she felt so protective of her son.
Meg swept into the kitchen, her face flushed from her shower, her hair in wet tangles around her face. “Wow, what’s the occasion?”
“There’s no occasion—well, except to celebrate Spencer being all right. I also think it’s good for Teddie to work on being socialized, to learn his manners.” And know that his place, and hers, would always be at Sweetheart Ranch.
“You mean which fork to use? Where those beautiful water glasses go at each place?”
Kate heard a disapproving note in Meg’s voice. Definitely not on board with this. “Have I done something wrong?”
“Sorry, the table looks lovely, but it reminds me of Chicago. I don’t miss that other life I had there.” Meg straightened a fork. “I definitely don’t miss having that man in my life—man in his case being a loose term.”
“Whoa.” A deep male voice spoke from the back door as it opened. “Should I just back out now? Before the shooting starts?”
A gust of wind following him inside, Gabe Morgan shut the door, stamped his boots on the mat, then shrugged out of his fleece-lined jacket. Tall and rangy, the ranch foreman had hair the rich color of mink and warm amber-brown eyes. Meg glanced at the four plates then sent Kate a startled look that clearly said, What is he doing here? Gabe didn’t often eat with their little, improvised family. “I’m glad you could join us,” Kate said, taking a sudden interest in the napkins she’d set by each plate. “There’s beer in the fridge.”
He helped himself, appearing right at home. The silence was unnerving. Another look from Meg. You invited him?
Kate didn’t understand her obvious objection. What?
Meg ran a distracted hand through her messy hair. For a woman who had turned away from her former life and sworn off men, she seemed very much aware of how she must look at the moment. No makeup, either, which Meg, blessed with dewy skin and a pretty face, didn’t need. Kate held her gaze. I understand, sort of, about Mac. But Gabe?
Meg stirred the stew in the pot, lingering over the steam that rose into the air. Her tense shoulders told the story. Because he’s here.
Kate cleared her throat. “We’re ready to eat. I’ll call Teddie.”
Unfortunately, her son wasn’t speaking to her again. After she’d left him with Meg to take Spencer to the vet, his “punishment” had been banishment to his room until dinner.
Meg beat her to the hallway. “No, I’ll get Teddie. Back in a sec.” And she disappeared.
“Kate, what’s her problem?” At the table, Gabe pushed his beer bottle back and forth on the ivory cloth. “You know, every time I see that woman, she turns to ice. What did I do?”
“You were born male. Sorry, Gabe, but Meg’s still...grieving, I guess you’d say, about her divorce. She tends to be prickly around men.”
“No kidding. She didn’t divorce me, though. The other morning, she came down to the barn, look
ing for Teddie. I was dropping bales from the hay loft. When I said hey, she just stood there looking up at me. Then she spun on her heel and marched off.”
“Um, where was Teddie at the time?”
“In Spencer’s stall.” Gabe lifted one eyebrow. “Feeding that pony treats he doesn’t need. You ever wonder why his barrel gets as wide as the oak version, look no further.”
Kate smiled. Talking to her foreman was always a treat in itself.
“How’s Spencer now?” he asked.
“Like nothing ever happened. Well, not quite. The vet said there was no break and that the pony had strained a ligament, so we’ll watch that while he heals. He’ll need to be under close supervision. Kind of like Teddie.”
“Guess not riding his pony is punishment enough for trying to take that fence.”
“I’m being punished too,” Kate said. “He didn’t like me telling him afterward to sit on his bed and think about what worse injury could have happened to Spencer instead.”
“You’re a good mom, Kate.”
“Thanks.” She liked Gabe’s easy manner, his way with her son, and she welcomed this reprieve from the memories that had been dogging her around the kitchen tonight. She’d been on the verge of remembering Rob, seated at this same table, teasing Teddie and Kate as they all caught up on their day. “I knew he was sneaking treats. I keep telling him ponies don’t like candy.”
“According to Teddie, this one does.” Gabe cocked an ear toward the hall. “It’s taking your aunt a long time to call him. My stomach’s growling. Mind if I start eating? I may be working late tonight. That sky looks ready to let loose again.”
“I hope not.” Kate hastily ladled stew into a large serving bowl, then set it on the table. “Help yourself,” she told Gabe, but his attention stayed on the kitchen doorway.
Kate heard firm footsteps and then a sudden clattering of little ones before Teddie burst into the room and scrambled onto his chair. “Hi, Gabe!”
“Hi, yourself, squirt.” The two exchanged high fives before Gabe began to eat. “Wait till you taste your mama’s stew.”
