Healing the Cowboy's Heart

by Ruth Logan Herne

  He gazed at the picture, surprised. “Who sent it? J.J.?”

  “Your mother.”

  He stared at her, then the picture, then her again. “My mother helped Ginger?”

  “While you were sleeping.”

  He couldn’t believe it. In the old days that wouldn’t have surprised him. His mother used to be a big part of the ranch. The cattle, the horses, the family. Stella Woods had been woven into the fabric of the ranch. But when they lost Alfie, she’d stepped away and hadn’t found her way back in over twenty years.

  Today she had.

  “Mother and daughter doing well. No complications. Beautiful baby.” Char read him the text as she shrugged away from his arm. Away from him.

  He didn’t want her away from him.

  He’d known that all along.

  Was it crazy to believe in love at first sight? Or to risk a life on destiny?

  Then he’d like to be crazy, because he’d never felt like this before. As if she—this amazing woman—was meant for him.

  She stood and brushed bits of straw from her disposable suit. He stood, too. The sun was just breaking light over the eastern mountains—a new day welcoming them.

  Char checked the horses. “No signs of neuro involvement,” she told him as she went down the line. “On anyone. So far, so good.”

  No signs.

  He moved toward her and hugged her. Just that. And not because of his feelings for her, although those were substantial.

  She’d jumped in when not invited. Taken charge. Brought him help he didn’t even know existed.

  “Hey.” She moved to step back. Her voice held a warning.

  “This isn’t a romantic hug,” he assured her, and he absolutely, positively did not let go. “It’s a hug of gratitude.”

  She pulled back, anyway. “Send a card,” she advised. “You know my address.”

  “Isaiah!” J.J. called his name from the barn down front. “You won’t believe what happened!”

  He moved around the front of the barn and waved acknowledgment.

  “Ginger’s got the prettiest foal with white feet and I want to name her Ginger Stockings. What do you think?”

  His mother came out of the barn right then. She took her place beside J.J. And when she gazed at him across the expanse of meadow separating them, it wasn’t the angry woman he was used to who was looking back.

  It was the old Stella. His mother. Her true self.

  She sent him a text. When you are all scrubbed up, come to our house. Making breakfast. Bring doctor.

  He sent her back a thumbs-up emoji. J.J. stayed at the barn with Ginger and the foal. His mother walked up the path toward her house.

  Liam poked a head around the far barn door.

  His mother had let Liam come into the barn while she tended the horse.

  She’d turned a corner after all these years.

  He went back to the barn. “My mother is making us breakfast.”

  “What?” She looked up from her electronic notebook, brows raised.

  She looked ridiculous in that funny suit. And amazingly beautiful because she cared enough to go the extra mile. To do her job to the best of her ability.

  Then she nodded as if the news of his mother and the horse and the foal made her happy. “I’ll head home after this early injection so you guys can have some family time.”

  “She gave strict instructions to bring you.” He moved closer as she set up for the morning injections. “And after she stepped in to help with Ginger’s foaling, I don’t want to step on toes.”

  She frowned. “I don’t think she really wants me there, Isaiah.”

  He stepped in front of her before she got to the next horse. “She does. We all do. Please?” He raised his eyebrow a little. Just enough so she could read the sincerity in his eyes, in his question. “You went the distance, Char.” He held her gaze. “You put my stupid behavior aside and did what needed to be done, and I don’t know a lot of folks who would do that. But you did. And breakfast is just one way of showing you how much that means to us. And it will make Liam happy.”

  “Such a good boy.” She hesitated, clearly torn.

  He didn’t want to coerce her. She was here for a year and that bought him time. Time to make amends. Mend bridges. Apologize repeatedly, if necessary.

  But when she raised her eyes to his...and said yes to breakfast...he felt like he might be back on the right path, after all.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Someone’s smitten,” noted Lizzie later that week. She scanned the two-layer box and helped herself to the third chocolate of the morning. “A two-pound box from the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory isn’t just a thank-you, darling.” She shoulder-nudged Char as walked by. “It’s more like a promise.”

  “Almost a proposal,” noted Melonie. “Char, you’ve got a few minutes. Can you feed Annie while I feed Ava? I’ve got to make a list of things we need to order for their birthday party and I can’t seem to get five minutes to do it.”

  Char had managed not to feed small humans in the few weeks she’d been here, but it appeared her hands-off days had come to an end. She hit Send on her supply order and slipped into a chair. “Okay. I’ve got this. How hard can it be?” she asked no one in particular.

  She picked up the bowl of mush, an interesting concoction of yogurt, baby cereal and mashed banana. “Here you go.” She raised the spoon.

  Annie slapped the spoon. The baby’s quick action spattered Char, the high chair, the table and herself with sticky cereal as the spoon went flying.

  “Annie Middleton, no, no, no.” Melonie squatted down, met the baby eye to eye and scolded. “That was naughty. No hit.” She kept her voice firm and held the baby’s gaze like you would a much older child.

  Annie stared at Melonie. Her eyes went wide. Her lower lip bulged out and the sweet baby girl looked absolutely heartbroken.

  Char’s gut twisted. She had to fight the urge to rescue the baby. She turned toward Mel in disbelief while Lizzie got a fresh spoon. “You just yelled at a baby,” she hissed as wheels crunched on the driveway outside. “How can you do that and live with yourself, Mel?”

  “Easy peasy,” replied her sister. “I watched you break horses, remember?”

  Char winced.

  She could be as strong as needed when it came to breaking young horses into socially acceptable creatures. But babies?

  The very thought of disciplining the girls scared her. “She’s so little.” She whispered the words so Annie wouldn’t hear the sympathy in her voice. “She’s a baby.”

  “Gotta love a novice,” noted Lizzie as she made her second cup of coffee. The coffee brewed...she smelled it...and then dumped it. “Did anyone else notice the coffee smells awful this morning?”

  “Mine was great,” replied Char as she accepted the clean spoon from Lizzie.

  Melonie shook her head. “Mine’s fine.” She sipped her coffee to prove her point, then stood. “Give it a try again and let’s see if Miss Annie will behave.”

  Char dipped the spoon into the cereal.

  Annie watched the spoon come her way. She raised her little hand, then caught Melonie’s eye...

  And she put her hand down.

  “Mel. You did it!” Char fed the baby a spoonful, and once Annie got a taste of it, there was no more slapping of the spoon. “It worked. Yelling at a baby worked.”

  “I spoke firmly. No yelling involved,” Mel told her as she fed Ava.

  The doorbell rang.

  The little dog Lizzie had rescued in the spring leaped out of her bed and charged the door, tail wagging.

  “Who’s here at eight thirty in the morning?”

  “And who rings the doorbell?” wondered Melonie. “I didn’t even know this house had a doorbell.”

  They heard Corrie go to the doo
r. A minute later she appeared in the wide kitchen with Isaiah’s mother.

  Char had to work double time to hide her surprise. “Mrs. Woods, good morning.” She started to get up but Isaiah’s mother waved her down and then she did something even more surprising. She sat down next to Char and set a big box of cookies on the table. “For you. For all of you,” she said, including the women in her look. “I came over to say I’m sorry, Charlotte.”

  The baby squealed in protest because Char had stopped feeding her.

  Lizzie lifted a clean mug as Char resumed her duties to keep the baby happy. “May I get you coffee, Mrs. Woods?”

  “I would like that,” Stella told her as Annie squawked again. The noise made Stella smile. And then she sighed softly. “I have wasted a lot of time.” She looked at Corrie as if the older woman would understand and Corrie nodded.

  “So many years of anger,” she went on. “And disrespect. I hid my own mistakes while I chastised others.” Sadness gripped her features, but something else lurked behind the sadness. A hint of unexpected tranquility. “My family and my people love this land. All of it.” She waved an expansive hand toward the back door. “I got so mad when strangers moved in, buying settlers’ land and tribal farms. I felt cheated. My father’s family sold their land to Sean Fitzgerald when he first came to town. They needed retirement money and Sean wanted to build a ranch. Startin’ over, he said, and he had a marine’s swagger when he said it. A swagger that showed a confidence I envied.

  “I didn’t want them to sell,” she continued. “I wanted them to hold on. Wait until things got better. We argued, again and again, but my father was tired. Tired of fighting the land, tired of barely scraping out a living. And so the land was sold. Ours. And others. And my anger grew.”

  “And that’s when we must discern if it’s love of land or lust for land?” said Corrie softly. “The wanting of things can be our downfall. We know that well in this family.”

  “You’ve got a beautiful ranch,” said Char as she continued to feed the baby. “Yours and Isaiah’s. They’re as pretty as anything I ever saw in Kentucky.”

  Stella faced her more directly. “That’s because John’s family clung tight to their land in the hard times. They increased their ranch and their side businesses. They are hardworking people, always building toward the future.”

  Like Isaiah, Char thought. He had that steady, strong work ethic that moved day by day. An ethic she not only admired, but one she shared.

  “I was spoiled,” Stella admitted as Lizzie set her coffee down. She smiled her thanks and added cream and sugar. “I was an only child and clung to too much. I felt like my legacy was being given away while John’s stayed strong, and I let it eat at me as if we weren’t connected by tribe and marriage. And then my nephew was lost in a terrible accident when I startled his horse and my anger grew. Not at myself, of course.” Aggravation tinged her voice. “At God. At others. It was always someone else’s fault. Only now it’s time to mend those old wrongs.”

  “No better time at all,” said Corrie and she gave Stella’s arm a light squeeze.

  “Liam keeps talking about this place,” Stella told them. “How beautiful it is. And I see what is happening at the Hardaway Ranch, how Jace is rebuilding his grandmother’s house and the ranch. It will be lovely again, but Lord forgive me, I was happy as I watched it disintegrate. Their failure felt like my reward, and I’m sorry about that because it was a stupid way to live and a horrible example to set for my children and my grandchildren.”

  “Fortunately children are resilient,” said Corrie. She smiled at the three young women, and Char understood the truth behind her words. Corrie’s love and faith had built their strengths, and that had prepared them for their father’s later deceit. So maybe that chance meeting of Corrie with their mother wasn’t a coincidence at all. Maybe God put the two women together then to ensure the girls’ futures now.

  He hath made everything beautiful in its time... The verse from Ecclesiastes stirred her. Was this all about timing? God’s timing? Allowing things to happen as they should?

  “I robbed them of good memories,” said Stella softly. She gazed down at her hands, then brought her head up in a way that made her look more like Isaiah. “But that’s over. Now I will help as Isaiah raises Andrew’s children in the church. As he teaches J.J. to jump and Liam to work horses with no fear. No trepidation. Just love and respect.”

  She reached out a hand to Char’s arm. “I made property more important than people. I made my reputation more important, as well. I was foolish. And I’m sorry that I made trouble for you. For my son.”

  “Well, there’s no need for blame, is there?” asked Corrie softly. “Just a need for forgiveness, maybe.”

  “Forgiveness and atonement.” Stella folded her hands. “I’ve gone to my brother and sister-in-law and explained everything about my nephew’s accident. And they didn’t hate me, although they could have. Maybe should have.”

  Her nephew. Alfie. The child lost when the horse shied years ago.

  “They said they were sorry.” Her eyes flashed. “So sorry, and I said why? And they said...” Her eyes filled. She sat there, trying to stave the tears and failing. “‘Because the guilt and sorrow have cost you so much time. Our boy is in heaven, and we’ll see him again, but we would have never caused you so much pain, dear Stella.’” More tears slipped down her cheeks.

  Lizzie handed her a box of tissues. Stella grabbed two and dabbed her cheeks. Her eyes.

  “Bah, bah, bah!” Annie waved her arms to signal she was done.

  Stella smiled and swiped her eyes again. “I didn’t mean to get so emotional.”

  “Well, we’re Southern girls,” noted Char, purposely easing the moment. “Emotional roller coasters are our favorite rides. How is Ginger’s foal doing?” She hadn’t dared go near the front barn to see for herself until all lingering traces of herpes had been wiped clean.

  “A lovely girl. And the mama horse has perked up considerably. Having a young one around keeps us on our toes.”

  “It does keep us young.” Corrie laughed as she washed Annie’s sweet face. “Because there’s no time to grow old when life keeps blossoming around us.”

  “Exactly that.” Stella finished her coffee and stood as Zeke barged in through the back door.

  “Cookies? Can I have one? Me and Harve Jr. are checking fence,” the little guy boasted. “It’s real important and we might be gone a long while,” he added as Lizzie handed him four cookies. He stared at the cookies, eyes wide.

  “Two for you. Two for Junior. Cowboys need to keep up their strength. And can you thank Mrs. Woods, please? She brought us these lovely cookies.”

  Zeke didn’t just thank Stella. He threw his arms around her in a hug of huge proportions. “Thank you for bringing us cookies! We’ll love these so much!” He raced back out before she could respond. The door banged shut behind him, a five-year-old whirlwind of pure energy.

  Stella stared after him, then smiled. “He is all boy. Like our Liam. Beautiful. Bright. Busy.”

  “All of the above,” agreed Lizzie, smiling.

  Char lifted Annie from the chair and handed her to Corrie. “Mrs. Woods? Would you like me to show you around Pine Ridge?” she asked as she washed up. It took a minute to locate and wipe down all of the baby’s initial spatter spots.

  “I would. Yes. But it’s Stella. Please.”

  “Well, then.” Char wiped her hands dry, then offered her right hand in greeting, as if they hadn’t met before. “Hey, Stella. I’m Char Fitzgerald, a new veterinarian in town. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Stella’s smile grew. She took Char’s hand, accepting the initiative. “And I’m Stella Woods. The pleasure is all mine.”

  She shook Char’s hand, and when Char led the way out the back door, it wasn’t like walking side by side with a former adversary.

&n
bsp; It was like walking side by side with a new friend.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The horses were recovering.

  Three foals lost, but their mothers survived.

  No traces of virus found in two weeks and no further horses affected.

  Isaiah hauled in a breath he’d been holding for nearly a month, then pulled out his phone when it signaled a text. On my way to do final symptom check. ETA fifteen minutes.

  Char was on her way.

  His hands went sweaty.

  He swiped them against his pant legs.

  He looked around the adjacent pasture, a pasture that would look quite different without her intervention. After today he would move the horses. One last checkup and the quarantine would be lifted. And while they’d suffered some loss, it was minimal compared to what could have happened.

  He owed Char. Big-time. More than he could ever repay because it wasn’t just about the financial end of things. She’d made a difference here. A difference to his family, his ranch and to the town. And with Labor Day and the return to school approaching, he wanted to face the approaching autumn with her.

  She pulled into the yard three minutes earlier than she’d expected, which meant she was driving too fast, hopefully because she was excited to see him.

  She climbed out of the van and didn’t don the protective suit. Another good sign.

  She looked amazing.

  His heart sped up. His hands got sweaty all over again. And when she turned and spotted him, she paused.

  So did his heart.

  She moved forward as he held up a printout of a brief announcement posted on the tribal Facebook page. “Braden has announced his retirement.”

  She frowned. “Because of me?”

  “Because the spread of infection was traced back to his brother. He’d accompanied Braden on farm visits earlier this summer, hoping to scare up votes for the November elections. Only, he had the virus working on his place and didn’t know it at the time. And once he realized, he tried to cover it up because he feared the ranch owners would punish him at the polls.”