A Cowboy's Homecoming

by Leigh Riker

  Jean sent her a sympathetic look. “Darling, in your situation, who wouldn’t?”

  Like Meg, Jean had been a rock after Rob died. She’d taken care of Teddie whenever Kate needed her. She’d been like a mother to Kate, or rather, like a mother should be. Kate glanced around the room, which was a cozy blend of old and new. “I don’t think I’ve seen some of this furniture before—except, of course, for that lovely étagère in the corner, which was your grandmother’s, right?”

  “Yes, and hers before her.”

  “The color on the walls is different too.”

  “A much-needed update for this room. Cass and I worked like dogs to get ready for Willow’s wedding. But you weren’t at the reception here, were you?”

  Kate shook her head. “I couldn’t come, Jean. I’m not a party person these days—if I ever was. I went to the church, though. The wedding was so beautiful. Willow looked exquisite.”

  “And Cody? I’ve never seen a man so eager to tie the knot.”

  “They’re good together, aren’t they?”

  “We all had our misgivings at first about Cody, but yes. I think they’ll be just fine. Thank goodness,” she added. “Now I have a brief reprieve before we start to plan Cass and Zach’s summer wedding.” She paused. “That will leave only Noah on the loose.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t want to get married.”

  Jean wrinkled her nose. “He has a girlfriend at the moment, and she’s not the first. But my oldest never seems ready to settle down. Certainly not here.” Jean appeared on the verge of saying more, then didn’t. “I suppose there’s nothing I can do except watch him leave again for New York when the time comes.”

  Kate patted her hand. “I wouldn’t be thrilled to see Teddie ever leave Sweetheart Ranch.” Which, remembering her talk with Meg, made Kate sound needy.

  “You hope he’ll take over the ranch. Just think. Maybe someday—once my children finally make me a grandmother—our little girl might marry your Teddie. I couldn’t imagine a better match unless...never mind. They could combine Sweetheart with the WB. My, but we’d have a dynasty then.”

  “Dream on, Mom.” Noah’s voice came from the kitchen doorway. He held a steaming mug in one hand, his other braced high on the frame.

  “It won’t be a dream with Cody and Willow. Or Zach and Cass.”

  He saluted Jean with the mug. “I was going to talk to you about Wilkins, but I see you’re busy.” He glanced at Kate before he went into the other room again. “Going back to my side of the fence.” And he was gone.

  “What was that?” Jean asked, frowning.

  “The reason I’m here.” Kate stood. “I’d better go make my apology. Thanks for the chat.”

  But Jean wouldn’t let her escape that easily.

  “Kate, after you’ve made your peace with Noah, bring Teddie next time.” Her tone turned sly. “You both have a standing invitation to dinner, and perhaps you’ll come more often. But don’t rush off. Why not have a second cup of coffee with me before you apologize to Noah?”

  Kate mumbled some excuse. There’d been a time when Jean had proffered constant invitations to spend an evening, a day, even a weekend at the WB for a sleepover with Willow when she and Kate were kids. Now Jean looked crestfallen.

  “Then good luck. I wish someone would snatch that son of mine away from the woman he’s been seeing in New York.”

  “That won’t be me,” Kate murmured, then, girding her loins against the scene that was to come with Noah, she started toward the front door. Jean reached out for yet another affectionate hug—or was that an apology of her own?

  “In any case,” she said, “come again. Don’t be such a recluse.”

  * * *

  AT THE BARN, Noah had kept one eye on the house while he argued with Wilkins. He hadn’t intended to walk in on his mother and Kate. He’d only needed more coffee before he confronted the ranch foreman. Why was she here?

  Noah wished he hadn’t said what he did yesterday—today at the house either.

  He tried to focus on the matter at hand. Noah had gotten a refresher course in Kansas winters during that first blizzard of the season, holed up in the Bluebird with Kate, and he was about to get another one soon. In fact, it had snowed most every day he’d been here, with a more severe storm brewing to the west now. Before nightfall the WB needed to prepare again. But then, so would Kate at Sweetheart Ranch. Not his problem, Noah told himself.

  This morning—again—Wilkins had neglected to send someone out to clear ice from the tanks. In Noah’s view, he was a poor manager, but the relationship between a rancher and his foreman could get tricky. Noah’s father had fired, then hired people enough times during Noah’s boyhood for him to learn that it wasn’t always—like yesterday with Kate—a smooth road. In New York, he would have canned an employee like Wilkins for such disrespect.

  Why should this be any different? The WB was a business, too, if not the one he’d chosen. He sneaked another glance at the house. Kate’s truck was still parked there, but she hadn’t appeared. Before she left, should he try to smooth things over when their quarrel hadn’t been his fault? No, better stick to the matter at hand.

  “Wilkins. You need to get ahead of this storm,” he said, noting the man’s slouch against the nearest stall, as if he wasn’t even listening. Calvin Stern, however, had stopped raking the aisle floor, his ears alert. In other areas of the barn, several of the ranch hands were moving around. Probably eavesdropping too. “Tell Calvin to check those tanks. The boys should look over the herd before dark.”

  Wilkins didn’t respond. Noah imagined he could see steam coming from his ears.

  “Tomorrow I want these stalls properly cleaned. They always looked better than they have lately. Then that pile of horse manure outside needs to be moved before it’s like the leaning tower of Pisa. Also, our inventory of medications is getting low.”

  Wilkins straightened. He took a step toward Noah. “Zach wants to assign chores around here like I’m still some green cowpoke, he can tell me. In the meantime, Bodine, take your laundry list of household duties—”

  “I wouldn’t have to tell you if you were doing your job.”

  “—and put it where the sun don’t—”

  “Wilkins, you’re fired.”

  He snorted. “You can’t fire me. And Zach’s never had issue with the job I’m doing.”

  At the end of the aisle, his eyes wide, Calvin had frozen, still holding the rake. Noah could hear the other men in the tack and feed rooms. With an audience, Noah couldn’t back down, or he’d have a mutiny on his hands. He’d gone to the house to talk to his mom about Wilkins, yet that wasn’t one of her duties. For now, it was on him, and he’d made up his mind. For a long moment, he stood toe to toe with Zach’s foreman.

  Then he said, “Pack your things and get off this ranch by five o’clock.”

  “After you, again—like always,” Wilkins muttered, but to Noah’s relief, he turned his back, then stalked from the barn. Which left Noah alone with Calvin.

  Noah believed in rewarding strong effort, giving people a chance to prove themselves. He liked to promote from within at J&B, which usually gained him an employee’s loyalty. He wasn’t sure about Calvin yet, or any of the other men who’d made it plain he was not the owner of the WB in their eyes and therefore had no authority. Maybe they’d only listened to Wilkins. Noah would soon find out, but it was time to really take charge of the WB.

  “Calvin. What would you say to a generous raise in pay?”

  “I wouldn’t say no,” Calvin mumbled. Unlike Wilkins, he was a hard worker. “Becca and I can use the extra money. The baby’s growing, needing new things every day, it seems. And we’re saving up to buy our own spread.”

  “Okay, then.” He held out his hand. “You’re the WB’s new foreman.”

  They shook on the deal, and Calvin glanced to
ward the tack room, where someone had just dropped what sounded like a heavy saddle. “I should tell you those guys have more years in than I do.”

  But from all accounts, and according to Noah’s mother, Calvin had grown up, especially since he’d been here. Taking on this new responsibility, in addition to the experience he’d already gained, could be the true making of him. Noah hoped.

  “Then you’ll need to convince them you’re the boss.”

  Calvin beamed. “I won’t let you down. You can count on me.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “Just gonna give Becca a quick call with the good news before I get the boys busy. I think we can beat this snow.”

  After Calvin wandered off, Noah looked down the aisle and out the open barn doors again in time to see Kate’s truck barrel down the drive to the road.

  If she’d come to see him, she’d changed her mind or gone home ahead of the storm.

  He crossed his arms, stared down at his boots.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have made that crack about the fence.

  Win some, lose some.

  * * *

  THAT EVENING KATE looked around the big living room at the McMann ranch. She had never felt truly a part of the Girls’ Night Out group, and in fact, she’d joined more recently than some of the others, but she’d also felt guilty for putting her friends off so many times. And instead of making her apology to Noah earlier, she’d had that second cup of coffee with Jean—then chickened out. Here she was now, hovering in the doorway, holding the bottle of wine Lizzie had asked her to bring. Her palms were damp. As she’d told Noah’s mother, social gatherings weren’t her thing.

  Lizzie spotted her just as Kate turned for the door, intending to drive home before the snow started. “Hey, you. No benchwarmers allowed. Come get in the game.”

  Kate didn’t move. She and Gabe had readied Sweetheart Ranch, but what if they’d missed something in those preparations? Also, she didn’t feel safe here. “I was just thinking I’d made a mistake in leaving my house.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Mostly, but...” She shrugged. “I had so much to do, I shouldn’t have come.”

  “You mean working fourteen-hour days isn’t enough? Don’t you have a foreman?”

  “Yes, but, Lizzie, I have nothing to contribute here. You’re right, and so was Jean Bodine—I do spend all my time on the ranch, keeping it going—”

  “And avoiding people who love you. Any second now, someone’s going to notice you with one foot out that door. I thought we’d already established that you don’t enjoy being the object of public scrutiny any more than I once did.” Lizzie frowned. “But a few of us have wondered if you’re being snooty.”

  “What would I have to be snooty about?”

  Lizzie didn’t answer. Clara McMann had swept from the kitchen with a platter of food and, of course, she saw Kate standing there. “Come and get it, dear,” she said, which was what Clara called everyone. A longtime widow whose land had sat barren for years, she’d gotten a new lease on life when Hadley Smith took over. He and Clara were now expanding the ranch and—along with Lizzie’s husband, Dallas, who was Hadley’s brother—making a profit again. It was good to see Clara looking so happy as she handed the plate to Lizzie.

  Kate hugged Clara. “I feel like I’m intruding, it’s been so long since I came to one of these get-togethers.”

  “Nonsense. Just plunge into the fray.”

  “Get ready,” Lizzie added, “for a thousand questions. You’re like the biggest, best-kept secret in Barren. There are those who keep track of the rare sightings of Kate Lancaster.”

  She winced. “I’m not that bad.”

  But Lizzie had a point. So had Jean that morning. They couldn’t know how difficult it was for Kate to leave her safe space, to mingle, especially in such a large group, which seemed to keep growing. She didn’t want to see any sympathetic glances from other women about Rob’s loss or hear comments those like Bernice Caldwell—who was not a member of the group—might make about “poor little Teddie.” Kate had a strong compulsion to remain on Sweetheart Ranch. To keep her little boy safe there too.

  These women didn’t know how dangerous the world could be. She certainly didn’t want to be seen as a pathetic widow. The town’s emotional charity case.

  Kate preferred being labeled neurotic. And, in spite of Noah’s advice, staying home.

  Feeling trapped, she followed Clara and Lizzie deeper into the room and was suddenly surrounded by chattering friends, all wanting to know where she’d been hiding for so long. “Well, obviously, the ranch...” she said, trailing off when Olivia McCord rolled her eyes then folded Kate into another hug.

  Despite her misgivings about being here, the evening seemed to pass by in a blur. Her friends’ laughter was contagious, the talk stimulating, and so familiar they all but finished each other’s sentences. Tonight, Kate had wine to drink (“just one glass because I’m driving”), delicious snacks to eat (“no more, Clara, or I’ll have to roll home”) and, above all, the good company of people she liked. People she’d pushed away for the past year.

  For these few hours, she could forget reconciling the ranch accounts, worrying about Teddie—not that he was ever far from her mind—even her cowardice earlier about Noah. It wasn’t until he was mentioned that she again regretted showing up.

  “Of course, he won’t stay here long,” Olivia said.

  “Right next door, though,” Lizzie put in. Traitor. “I told Kate he has a lot to offer.”

  Her palms began to sweat again. “Yes, you did.” She shifted on the sofa. “I’m still not listening.”

  “Why not?” Blossom Hunter spoke up. “There are a ton of good-looking men in this town, which is pretty amazing in itself for a place as small as Barren, but I have to say Noah Bodine tops the list. Except, of course, for my Logan.”

  Nell Ransom piped up. “I see your Logan and raise you my Cooper.”

  “Uh-oh.” Lizzie grinned at Kate. “This could wind up in an all-out brawl, complete with hair pulling.”

  “Before that starts,” Kate said, “my anxiety will drive me out of this house.”

  “This is no contest at all,” Jenna Smith, one hand on her pregnant stomach, chimed in. “It’s clear Hadley wins, hands down, even when I do admire the runners-up.”

  “Aren’t you all terrible?” Clara, who must still feel sad for the loss of her own husband years ago, clucked her tongue. “I declare them all winners. They’re my boys.”

  Kate had to laugh, even when her pulse kept thumping. Clara would adopt everyone.

  Lizzie laid a hand on her forearm. “I didn’t mean to start this. You can slap me now.”

  The air had filled with a dozen claims made in rising voices, but to Kate’s relief, they soon became shared laughter, and no one left in a huff. By then, she’d thought she was safely out of range, but apparently not.

  “By the way, I hear Noah looks even better than he did when he quit the WB—how long ago was that?”

  Shadow Wilson pretended to ponder the question. “Too long, if you ask me.” She turned to Kate. “Would you really pass that up? According to the grapevine, in a short time, he’s gotten pretty friendly with you at Sweetheart Ranch. Aren’t you boarding a foal and mare for him? And from what I hear, Teddie thinks he walks on water.”

  “My, people have been busy.” Kate cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m taking care of the colt, but that’s where it ends. I’ve told Noah so.”

  “Ouch. What prompted that?”

  “Not what you’re thinking.” Going back to my side of the fence.

  “Lost opportunity,” Olivia murmured from the other end of the sofa.

  Kate tensed. “I’m not looking for another man. I had one.” Her voice quavered. “Why can’t you all understand? I don’t want anyone else.”

  She had stunned them into s
ilence. Or maybe they’d given up on her.

  Still, her own words rang hollow. Had she pushed Noah away, too, as she had her friends, using Teddie as an excuse, to keep her heart safe? Noah hadn’t suggested even being friends, so what was there to worry about? And yet she did.

  Just maybe, intending to throw her friends and even Meg off track, she hadn’t been honest with herself.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  NOAH’S PROBLEM AT the moment wasn’t last night’s storm, which had dumped another eight inches on the WB, but a text message from Zach.

  He walked the barn aisle the next morning, checking on horses on stall rest—a gelding with a wheezing cough, a couple of cow ponies with stone bruises. Noah stopped to pat a velvety nose, straighten a forelock. He’d always loved animals, the best part for him of being on a working ranch again. He made an exception for Midnight, the black that had thrown him. Still, they’d made their tentative peace, unlike Noah with Kate.

  Having too much fun for Cass and me to come home, Zach had written. Willow heading for Savannah. East Coast honeymoon blowout. Carry on, pal.

  As soon as his brother had heard about Willow and Cody’s decision, Zach had obviously opted to stay wherever he was too. Talk about punishment. Noah had tried to call him, but Zach hadn’t answered. He’d also tried to reach Willow, whose only response to his message—Can’t stay at WB much longer, what’s your ETA now?—had been a curt I’ll see you when I see you.

  Still, he didn’t mind ranch work as much as he had at first, or as a boy, maybe because Wilkins had cleared out. Calvin seemed to be adjusting to his new job, which left Noah a bit freer to focus on New York, where Brent wasn’t happy with him. The London-branch launch continued to be frustrating. Or was that problem Noah’s way of keeping clear of Kate, who was much closer next door than the company headquarters of J&B were in New York?

  “Boss?” Calvin poked his head out of the tack room. “Soon as I finish here, I’m going to ride out to the far-west pasture. Snow knocked the gate down. If I don’t fix it quick, we’ll have Sweetheart Ranch stock over here.” Calvin ambled into the aisle then hesitated. “Uh, Wilkins held me back, overruled any suggestions I made. Want to thank you for putting your trust in me.”