Healing the Cowboy's Heart

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “There was a time when tires weren’t replaced,” she told him. “They were patched. And when a bone breaks and heals, the broken spot is actually stronger than the bone surrounding it in most cases. So a patch isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s just a thing.”

  He smiled.

  When he did, her heart melted on the spot. Did he sense her catch her breath? Hold his gaze a little too long?

  “Good analogy. You’re right, and I’m not melancholy. I just wish people could admit their mistakes and move on. It would make things so much easier.”

  “Pride and fear get in the way. And sometimes greed. Selfishness.”

  “Your father.”

  She winced, then shrugged. “That was a bad deal, but it wasn’t exactly a huge surprise. My grandparents and great-grandparents built the publishing empire. They were true entrepreneurs with an ear for the business of news. My uncle Sean opted out when he was young, after a stint in the service. He got the farming genes and he did well. Sometimes I wonder if my grandparents dreaded handing the business over to my father. If they sensed the writing on the wall. But once they were gone, it didn’t matter.”

  “It mattered to you.” Isaiah’s voice gentled. “And your sisters. What should ever be more important than the children around us?”

  “You have lovely priorities,” she told him as she noted Ginger’s vitals into her tablet. “That’s not the norm in my experience.”

  “I’m sorry for that, little lady.”

  He sounded sorry and the quaint phrase touched her, as did the sympathy in his voice. As if her feelings and her isolation mattered. “Old news.” She finished up and flashed him a smile. “I’ll take her for a walk. I’m sure you’ve got things to do.”

  He’d folded his arms loosely on the rail, leaning in, classic cowboy. And then he didn’t move. Didn’t shift his gaze. He kept those big brown eyes right on her as if standing there was more important than anything on his to-do list. And for just a moment, she felt important.

  He sighed and pushed back. “Too right. Liam and I are going to meet prospective buyers from Utah in an hour.”

  “Do you sell a lot of horses?” she asked and he shook his head.

  “Not many yet—we’re just getting to that phase,” he told her. “We used to run cattle and there are still sixty head on Dad’s land east of here, but my brother and I decided to develop the Appaloosa line when we were teens. We worked, scraped together money and worked some more. We bought horses, grew hay, developed brood stock, and then raised and broke the foals. It’s been ten years in the making and we’ve got fourteen pregnant mares in the back field. Six up close, sooner to deliver and eight around back. Do you want to come see them?”

  Of course she did, but she’d been with the rescues all morning. She shook her head. “I’ll accept the invite when Ginger’s better and we have confirmation that we’re not tracking some horrific virus out to them. I know we’re all disinfecting, and if there was a medical need I’d chance it, but why risk such a huge and wonderful investment of time and resources?”

  * * *

  He wanted to talk her into it.

  Which was silly because she was right, they’d be foolish to risk contaminating his livestock. But something about her drew him.

  Yet he couldn’t be drawn. He’d already alienated family over the horse. To throw a Fitzgerald into the mix would add salt to the wound, and it wasn’t as if his parents hadn’t suffered enough by losing their son and daughter-in-law.

  He took the Jeep to the back barn and when Liam joined him a quarter hour later, the boy had changed out of his school clothes, made his own PB&J sandwich and was wearing his farm boots—with socks. All good things.

  His phone buzzed a text from Char. I’m here for a while. Does Liam want to hang out with me?

  He posed the question to Liam. “Char’s wondering if you want to hang out with her and help with Ginger.”

  “Yes!”

  Isaiah understood the boy’s enthusiasm because he wanted to hang out with her himself. Good looks and great figure aside, her strength called to him. And something else, too. The more-fragile side, the side that made her raise her defenses. He caught it in her stance and sometimes in her eyes. She hid it well, but it was there. A hint of suspicion, as if self-protection was the rule. Not the exception.

  “Head over—she’s waving.”

  Liam jumped off the rail, but he didn’t run straight off. Instead he turned and grabbed his uncle in a big hug. “I love being over here with you, Uncle Isaiah.” The boy whispered the words into Isaiah’s shirt. “It’s so much better.”

  He was gone in a flash, but his words lingered.

  He’d let his mother watch Liam for both their sakes, he’d thought. He thought watching Liam would relieve his mother’s grief at losing the boy’s father. And that Liam would be safe and sound in the grace of loving grandparents.

  His mother’s tight rein had stifled the boy. Why hadn’t he seen that more clearly?

  He had, he realized.

  He just hadn’t wanted to make waves over it, and that was his fault. Being a peacemaker was good to a point. But there were times when even a man of peace had to stand strong and take one for the team. Char’s comments made him see that.

  A wide-bodied pickup rolled in a few minutes later, pulling a four-horse trailer.

  He and Andrew used to dream about cutting big deals. They’d sold a few horses each year, but this year was the beginning of the culmination. This year all the hopes and dreams came together with multiple buyers showing interest in their tribute Appaloosas. It was an honor he should be sharing with his brother and Katie.

  Now he’d do it alone.

  He strode forward and extended a hand, and when MacLaren Farms pulled away with three mares and a gelding two-and-a-half hours later, he brought up his bank account on his phone and whistled lightly.

  A year’s pay in one short afternoon.

  It should have felt good. It should have felt wonderful, but his brain flooded with other should-have-beens.

  Andrew should have been here.

  Katie would have baked a cake and used cream-cheese frosting to make it special. And they’d throw steaks on a wood fire and take a few hours to celebrate their dream before jumping in all over again.

  “They bought four horses!” Liam was running his way. The dog loped behind him at a more measured pace.

  When Liam reached him, he hurled himself into Isaiah’s arms. “Who has so much money that they can buy four horses, Uncle Isaiah? It’s like a lot of money, isn’t it?”

  He grinned and hugged the boy. “It is a lot of money.”

  Char was waiting farther down the graveled drive. He walked her way, still holding the boy, who was really too big to be held. And yet it felt right.

  She slid her gaze toward the ranch exit and smiled. “Congratulations.”

  “Appreciated. And having Liam busy with you was great. Thank you.” He set the boy down. “How’s Ginger doing?”

  “She seems quiet this afternoon. Off her feed.”

  “Labor?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe just getting her body re-accustomed to regular meals. We’ll keep a close eye.”

  “Which means you should have supper with us tonight.” He didn’t plan to invite her, but the minute the words were out of his mouth, he was glad he did. “To celebrate the first major sale and to keep an eye on an old friend. I’ll grab steaks out of the freezer before I leave to pick up J.J.”

  “How about we go get J.J. so you can get afternoon chores done?” she suggested. “You can keep an eye on the mare cam, but that way you’re not an hour behind. And there’s nothing for Liam and me to do with Ginger right now.”

  “You wouldn’t mind?”

  “Not at all,” she told him. “I love that J.J. picks my brain for information. She’s on
e horse-savvy kid.”

  “Grandma says she’s just like Dad.” Something in Liam’s voice cued Isaiah to listen more closely. “That she’s like Dad in a girl’s body.”

  His mother often compared the children to each other, and their family. J.J. didn’t care, mostly because she was going to do her own thing in any case.

  Liam was more sensitive. He wanted to be like his dad, but his dad was gone.

  Isaiah bent low. “When I see you making plans for the day, every day, it’s like seeing your dad all over again.”

  “Really?” Two red brows shot up.

  “Your dad always planned his work to get it done first so the rest of the day was his.”

  “I do that all the time!”

  “Exactly like your dad.”

  A grin split Liam’s face. Isaiah sent him toward the house. “Make a pit stop in the bathroom before you head out with Char. And then you can help with dinner when you get back.”

  “Okay!”

  Liam ran off. The dog followed. Isaiah turned back to Char in time to see her dash a tear away. “Wait. What?” He stared at her, then the boy, then her again. “I don’t do tears. Like ever. So stop that. Now.”

  She laughed at his deliberately overdone panic. “I expect you’re fine with tears and/or anything else, Isaiah Woods.” She swiped her hand to her cheek one more time. “I came a little undone seeing Liam’s reaction. How much he loves you and loves this ranch. These horses. It’s like he’s blossoming before our eyes.”

  She’d described it perfectly and he gave her shoulder a gentle nudge with his. “Well, you laid down a challenge and made me see that I could fix things if I stood my ground.”

  “My sisters will be pleased that my snarky nature has reaped a reward,” she bantered back. Then she softened her smile. “It’s good to see kids happy.”

  “The best.”

  Liam chased back to them and Char hooked a thumb. “You’ve got shotgun until we pick up your sister...and then you’re in the middle.”

  “But—”

  “Seniority, kid.” She winked at Isaiah as Liam scrambled into the van. “There’s always a pecking order. That’s how life goes. Now’s as good a time as any to learn that lesson.”

  She climbed into the driver’s seat.

  It looked right, seeing the boy beside her. Seeing his bright eyes, hearing him laugh. As if it was meant to be this way.

  She paused as she thrust the van into gear. Then she glanced back at him.

  Was she thinking the same thing? That this felt too right to be wrong?

  She drew a breath. A breath that made her narrow shoulders rise, then fall.

  And then she pulled away, but not until she’d angled one last look his way, as if wondering...

  A look that made him feel really good inside.

  Chapter Six

  When the van disappeared from sight, he didn’t go straight to the afternoon chores.

  He hooked a right turn toward a small hollow that lay east of his house. Two simple wooden crosses flanked a gray marble marker bearing two names. To the right of the names, a climbing rose marked Katie’s love for gardens. On the left the artist had etched a series of pine trees behind a single beautiful horse.

  Katie and Andrew’s ashes had been put here. And he’d helped his father lay out a resting nook edged in bright green grass and a garden, curved like a crescent moon.

  Andrew had always loved the crescent moon.

  He stood there, eyes down, praying silently. He was proud of their successes. Proud of today. But it wasn’t his success alone that turned this corner, and his heart ached, wishing Katie and Andrew were here to be part of it.

  But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; they shall walk, and not faint.

  He read the verse from Isaiah inscribed on the beautiful headstone.

  Andrew’s favorite. He used to joke that his little brother got a whole book of the Bible and he got about a dozen mentions.

  But then he’d loop an arm around Isaiah’s shoulders, give him a noogie and say Isaiah got the best book of all: the old prophet, a sayer of truths.

  “I miss him.”

  John Woods’s voice startled Isaiah. He brushed a hand to his eyes and turned toward his father. “Me, too.”

  “I saw that trailer pulling away, fully loaded. A deal like that doesn’t come every day.”

  “No, it doesn’t. And we should all be here to celebrate it.” He pondered the stone and those two simple crosses. “But we won’t be.” He turned toward his dad. “I’m cooking steaks in a couple of hours. Would you and Mom like to join us?”

  His father frowned. “She won’t come anywhere near you or that horse right now. And she’s pretty sure that new doctor is here to mess up everything.”

  “You don’t believe that.” His father had to deal with Stella on a daily basis, but John Woods was a practical man.

  “Of course not. I think Braden has been resting on his laurels for a while. He’s taken with the idea of being the only game in town. In the whole region, actually.” His father leaned his arms on the split-rail fencing bordering the memorial garden. “Competition pushes excellence. When there is no competition, it’s easy to get complacent, and there’s no place for complacency on a ranch. Not if you want it to be successful.” He turned and leaned back against the rail. “Isaiah.”

  And here it was, his father’s plea for peace. To mend things. To capitulate to keep his mother happy.

  But his father surprised him.

  “You’re doing a good thing. A fine thing. Saving that horse is what we should do to fix a wrong that’s gone unfixed for way too long.”

  Isaiah stared at him as realization dawned. “You know what happened that day?”

  His father made a face. “I didn’t. Not for a long time, but I do now. And it’s a grievous thing for a person to carry that guilt all these years and try to cover it up. It’s not healthy and I told your mother that, but she’s dug a hole so deep, she can’t see her way out. The truth might seem harsh, but it can set her free.”

  His father knew of his mother’s part in Alfie’s death. “She didn’t mean to scare the horse.”

  “Of course she didn’t. She was impetuous. She was always that way and it was one thing I’ve always loved about her. She made a mistake, one she’s been paying for over twenty years. But she needs to come to terms with it. And she never should have asked for your silence, son. She put too much on a boy’s shoulders and I’ve told her so.” He gazed toward Isaiah’s place. “The truth will come out now. As it should. And I don’t want you or my grandkids caught in the crosshairs.”

  With the horse in his barn and a Fitzgerald giving veterinary care? Isaiah didn’t try to mask his skepticism. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

  “It would be more possible if your mother came forward.” John frowned. “That’s my prayer. For her to take responsibility and nip this anger. Loose talk grows like a storm in the mountains. Quick, fierce and destructive. Braden was quick to malign the new doctor to anyone and everyone who would listen. More Fitzgeralds coming in, changing things, taking over.”

  So they knew Char was a Fitzgerald, and Braden was laying groundwork to mess up her chance at success. “She’s a veterinarian with solid horse expertise. That should be the bottom line.”

  “It should be. But fear and guilt make people do stupid things. Regardless.” His father faced him squarely. “I’m on your side. And I’ll help any way I can.”

  “But, Mom—”

  “There are no buts, son. There’s right and there’s wrong, and the wrong’s been going on for far too long. It’s time things got put right.”

  And when John hugged Isaiah, it wasn’t just a hug. It was a benediction.

  Most o
f the Nimiipuu wanted to live in peace. But their tribal history was important. Their heritage and legacy with the Appaloosas was nothing to be forgotten, and they’d lost a great deal to power-hungry people over a century before.

  Isaiah had no intention of letting that happen again. His ranch, his horses, his choices. Nothing should narrow tribal options for the future but Braden liked his sense of power. He always had. Was he looking out for the greater good or his own pocketbook? The latter, Isaiah surmised.

  I will fight no more forever.

  Chief Joseph’s words of wisdom, words Isaiah lived by, but now the fight was at his door. A different fight, but a battle nonetheless.

  “I’m proud of you, son. What’s more—” his father jutted his clean-shaven chin toward the memorial “—they’d be proud of you. Stand tall and righteous, like you’ve always done and things will work out.”

  His father headed back home.

  So did Isaiah. J.J. helped with chores once they returned, and by the time he came up front, restlessness pushed him. He needed to start a fire. Grab some rolls. Maybe pull some vegetables out of the freezer.

  The ripe smell of smoke wafted to him as he rounded the curve.

  Thin gray plumes rose from the firepit. The cooking grate had been laid across it. As he drew closer, Liam came out of the log cabin. He was carrying four plates. Char followed with silverware. The pair proceeded to set the table on the back porch as he approached.

  His restlessness ebbed.

  A different feeling stole over him, and when Char looked up...

  When their eyes met...

  Longing stirred. An old longing, or maybe brand-new, but when she smiled at him, those old worries abated. He returned the smile as he jogged up the steps. “You guys got stuff ready.”

  “It seemed outrageously rude to have you do all the farm chores while we sat around, waiting to be waited on, so I swung by Pine Ridge to raid the kitchen.”

  She didn’t look guilty about her admission, and that deepened his smile.

  “Cookie had just shopped, so I appropriated four big potatoes—”