Love Finds You in Valentine, Nebraska

by Irene Brand

  “I would like that very much,” Robin said. “I haven’t been in the house for a long time.” She reached in her bag and handed Kennedy a business card. “My residence and business phone numbers are on this card.”

  Several other people spoke to Kennedy and welcomed her to Valentine before they reached the door where the pastor, Tony Morgan, greeted guests. He was of medium height, with dark brown hair and eyes and a captivating smile that reminded Kennedy of her mother.

  “So I have the pleasure of meeting you at last,” he said to Kennedy as he shook hands with her. “My father has often talked about your mother. They played together at family reunions when they were children and became good friends as they grew older.” But not good enough friends to stand by her when she was ostracized, Kennedy thought. She had hoped to mend fences, however, not make more enemies, so she smiled and greeted Tony.

  “I’m glad to be back in Valentine,” she said. “Although I dreaded to come, not knowing how welcome I would be.” With a grimace Tony said, “We have a lot in common. It might help you to know that I’m not in the good graces of our grandfather, either.”

  “Then come visit me at Riverside. I’d like to talk with you. I know very little about my Nebraska relatives.” She wrote her cell phone number on a slip of paper and handed it to Tony. “I don’t know what I’ll be doing, so call before you come.” As they walked to June’s car, Kennedy said, “I was a little nervous about showing my face in Valentine, but it has been a wonderful morning. I suppose I was expecting some Morgan to take a potshot at me,” she added with a grimace. “And Mrs. Donovan seemed very nice.”

  “She is,” June agreed, as they pulled out of the parking lot and drove toward Main Street. “Her husband has a state job, and Robin is somewhat of a social leader in town. As a member of the county historical society, she’s doing a lot to preserve frontier sites in the county.” The Cedar Canyon Steak House fronted on Main Street, and when June slowed down, Kennedy pointed and said, “I see Derek. There’s an empty parking place beside his truck.”

  Derek stepped out of his truck when June pulled in beside him. He had changed his jeans and flannel shirt for a pair of navy blue slacks and a white knit shirt.

  Instead of his well-worn work boots, he had on boots with higher heels that looked as if they were new. One of the white hats Kennedy had noticed in his room was tilted back on his head. As usual, her heart responded to his presence with a series of flip-flops. His vibrant strength drew her like a magnet, and she wanted to throw herself into his arms. She hoped her face didn’t betray her.

  Derek opened the door and took his mother’s hand as she stepped out. He came toward the passenger side, but Kennedy jumped out before he reached her—she couldn’t bear for him to touch her at this moment. Forcing casualness she didn’t feel, Kennedy said, “Well, I see the cowhand is on time for his lunch.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed it, City Girl. And I warn you, I’ve got a powerful appetite.” Derek noticed Kennedy’s heightened color. His first thought was that she’d been mistreated at church. “Everything go okay this morning?” he asked sharply.

  She smiled happily. “Yes, it did. The sermon was good, and I met several people who were friendly. I’ve invited Tony Morgan to visit. And Robin Donovan made it a point to speak to me, too. We’re going to get together in a few days.”

  “Good! She’s quite a historian, and she can tell you anything you want to know about your father’s family. And probably about the Morgans, too.” A hostess greeted them when they stepped inside the restaurant, which was located in what had once been a hotel.

  “This is our guest’s first visit to the Steak House,” Derek said. “Find a good table for us, please.”

  “You bet!” She led them to a table by the window. Derek suggested that Kennedy sit facing the windows to have a good view of Main Street.

  The restaurant was crowded, and his mother told Kennedy that this was normal for any Sunday once the worship services were over. After their beverage orders were taken, the waitress explained the daily specials on the buffet. Derek ordered the twelve-ounce steak dinner with the salad bar, but June and Kennedy opted for soup and salad bar only.

  “But I want to order dessert,” Kennedy said, as she scanned the menu. “The lemon pie sounds good.” The waitress soon brought their iced teas and a carafe of ice water with a large wedge of lemon. Sunbeams filtered through a few wispy clouds to illuminate the century-old brick buildings, and one beam spotlighted Kennedy’s hair, making it seem as if a golden halo encircled her head. Derek groaned inwardly. Why did she have to be so beautiful?

  “The wainscoting was made from local cedar,” June said. “And I especially like the brick-front fireplace with gas logs. It makes the room cozy during the winter months.”

  Kennedy made herself at home, as she had since she’d arrived at the Circle Cross. Derek kept watching to see when she would show distaste of their down-home customs, but she took every new experience in stride. He marveled at how well she got along with his mother, and he listened to their comments on the people she’d met in church. His conscience hurt that he hadn’t gone with them.

  Derek didn’t have any desire to attend corporate worship service, but that didn’t mean he didn’t pray. He prayed often when he was alone on the prairie at night.

  He felt nearer to God there than any other place, but he wasn’t much of a witness to others when he did all of his praying in private. Still, he recognized that his spiritual life was far from perfect.

  As he studied Kennedy’s face through half-closed eyes, he wondered how much she’d influenced his change of heart. He was pleased with her reaction to the restaurant, and she had taken to the ranch activities right away. But he warned himself that this lifestyle was a novelty to her now. Soon she would get tired of the glamour of the Midwest and go back to California. Not once but dozens of times in the past few days, he’d told himself that he needed to accept Kennedy’s friendship and not expect anything more. She was city; he was country—and the two wouldn’t mix.

  Derek felt his face flush when he realized that Kennedy watched him with clear, observant eyes.

  “A penny for your thoughts,” she said.

  “You’ll have to pay more than that, City Girl.”

  When the waitress brought their check, she paid it with a credit card, and while they waited for her receipt, Derek said, “I think it’s about time for the city girl to When the waitress brought their check, she paid it with a credit card, and while they waited for her receipt, Derek said, “I think it’s about time for the city girl to learn how to ride a horse.”

  She looked at him uncertainly. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Anyone who owns a big ranch ought to know how to ride a horse.”

  “Says who?” she retorted.

  “It’s Article III, page 15, in A Cowhand’s Guide to Ranching.” He couldn’t keep his lips from twitching, and she was quick to realize that he was teasing her again.

  “Who’s the author?” she retorted.

  He laughed loudly but sobered when he realized people were staring at him.

  “With my experience, I could have written it, but I didn’t. Seriously, it’s a nice day; we should take a short ride. I’ll be too busy next week to spend much time with you.”

  Skeptically, she stated, “I’ve watched enough Western movies to know that cowboys like to play tricks on ‘tenderfeet.’ Are you going to be nice?”

  “Of course,” he said, but she must not have trusted the amusement that flickered in his eyes, for she said, “Make him promise, June, or I won’t go with him.”

  “Derek, stop pestering her. What’s come over you?” June said. She turned to assure Kennedy. “He’ll be patient with you. And I agree that it’s a good idea for you to learn to ride. I altered his shirt to fit you, but you’ll need a hat.”

  “She can put a scarf around her head today and buy a hat later.” To Kennedy he said, “I promise you won’t get hurt if you
do exactly what I tell you to do.”

  “I’m good at taking orders,” Kennedy said, adding with a grin, “most of the time.”

  “I want to take the trail along the river, so when you get back to the ranch, go to Riverside and get ready. I’ll bring the horses to your home, and we can set out from there,” he said.

  Derek could tell by her skeptical expression that she still didn’t trust him. He followed his mother’s car to the ranc,h and try as he might, he couldn’t stifle his excitement at the prospect of spending the afternoon with her.

  Chapter Six

  At the Circle Cross, Kennedy collected the altered shirt from June and then got into her car and hurried to Riverside to dress before Derek arrived. She put on the shirt and the jeans she’d worn when Derek had taken her on the tour of the ranch. The wind was brisk, so she tied a red scarf over her head.

  Derek had kept Wilson at ranch headquarters, so when Kennedy was ready, she locked the front door and sat on the porch steps to wait. The view of the river valley from this spot was fast becoming a favorite of hers. She glanced toward the gazebo, realizing what a pleasant place it would be to relax. She decided to buy some porch furniture for it. In some ways it distressed Kennedy that she was becoming so satisfied at the Circle Cross.

  She heard the clink-clink-clink of shod hooves on the graveled road and knew that Derek was approaching, although it was several minutes before he came into view. As the horses came closer, she noticed the faint murmuring swish of saddle leather, the clinking of spur chains, and the snort of the horses as they tossed their heads and fought the bits between their lower jaws. She remembered similar sounds from Western movies and was thrilled to be experiencing these sensations firsthand.

  Derek rode a rangy brown horse and led a mare with a golden coat and a silvery mane. She had a streak of white from her forehead to her nostrils. Kennedy waited for Derek at the foot of the steps. He stepped out of the saddle with one fluid motion and dropped the reins of his horse.

  “Do you want to mount from the steps or have me give you a boost into the saddle?” She shrugged her shoulders as she walked down the steps to join him. “You’re the teacher. What’s the simplest way?”

  “I’ll boost you into the saddle, but first I need to explain a few things.” Eyeing her skeptically, he said, “You’re serious about not knowing how to ride?” She nodded. “This is the closest I’ve been to a horse in my life. You would have thought that because Mother and Dad were raised in ranch country, they would have taken me to a riding stable when I was a kid, but they didn’t. Perhaps they wanted to put their Nebraska days behind them.” Derek motioned for Kennedy to come closer and told her to pet the mare. “She’s a palomino, and her name is Santee.” Kennedy sliced an inquiring glance toward him, and he explained, “It’s a Sioux name. She’s about middle age for a horse, and she’s very gentle. I bought her two years ago.”

  “You have your own horses?”

  He nodded. “When you look over the ranch records, you’ll see that part of my salary includes the privilege of accumulating a limited number of cattle and horses for myself and grazing them with Circle Cross stock.” He pointed to the rear flank of the palomino. “That’s my brand.”

  “Oh, a DS. That’s cool.”

  “I’m limited to ten horses and forty head of cattle,” he said. “I only have nine horses now. I told you the day you came to the ranch that I’d had a bad day. I’d had to put down one of my best horses that morning. But let’s get on with your lesson.” His teasing manner was gone, and he patiently and slowly pointed out the bridle, saddle, and other parts of the riding equipment, explaining the purpose of each.

  “The first thing is to learn how to mount a horse. You mount from the horse’s left side. Take hold of the reins in your right hand and then the horse’s mane with your left hand. Put your left foot in the stirrup and grab the cantle on the saddle with your right hand. Take a little springy step like you’re pushing off the ground, lift your right leg over the horse’s body, and move your right hand from the saddle to the pommel. Then sit down and put your right foot in the stirrup.” Perhaps he sensed how confused she was, for he said, “I know it sounds like a lot to remember now, but with practice you’ll mount automatically, not even thinking about what you’re doing. Stand back a little and let me show you.”

  He slowly mounted and dismounted several times, and in spite of her nervousness, Kennedy was physically aware of his powerful physique and his skill as a rider. After he explained how to start walking a horse, how to control its movements, and how to stop the animal, he said, “You try it now. I guessed at how to adjust the stirrups, but once you’re in the saddle, I’ll fix them to fit you.”

  “I’m not sure I can do this,” Kennedy protested.

  “Sure you can! A woman smart enough to be a lawyer can learn how to ride a horse. Try it,” he urged.

  Derek was standing close beside her, so Kennedy knew he wouldn’t let her fall. After several tries, she finally got her foot in the stirrup.

  “That’s great. Now push off and I’ll boost you into the saddle.” She did and he did, but once in the saddle, she lost her balance and tipped toward the right side of the animal. Derek’s arm quickly encircled her waist and steadied her, but the near accident unnerved Kennedy. Santee had stood patiently during the mounting, and Kennedy leaned forward to pat the mare on the neck, trying to hide her discomfiture from Derek.

  With his hand supporting her back, Derek said, “How do you feel?”

  “Like I ought to fasten my seat belt,” she answered.

  Derek laughed lightly. “I guess I could tie you into the saddle, but you won’t need that.” He swung into his own saddle. “Stay close beside me and don’t grip the reins so tight. Try to relax. You’re doing fine.”

  They rode slowly, with Derek giving instructions on how to use the reins to guide her mount and sway with the movement of the animal rather than to sit ramrod-straight in the saddle. But not once did he give her the feeling that she was a slow learner. He rode so close to her that she knew, if she started to fall, he would catch her immediately. This gave her a sense of security, and Kennedy relaxed slightly and began to enjoy the ride and look at the landscape.

  They followed a wide trail lined by willow and cottonwood trees, with occasional clearings where they could see the Niobrara. The sun shone brightly, but a steady breeze kept the temperature pleasant. Vast rangeland on their right was populated with grazing cattle, and Derek pointed out the Circle Cross brand on the animals. After a few miles, Kennedy realized that her legs were getting numb, her back ached, and she was tired. Derek must have been watching her closely, for he soon halted the animals and dismounted.

  He secured the horses to a fence beneath a tree with spreading branches. Coming to Kennedy’s side, he explained the proper way to dismount, adding, “But you’ve learned enough new things today. Just take your right foot out of the stirrup and lean toward me, and I’ll lift you down.” After she dismounted, he held tightly to her arm. When she took a step, her legs felt like cooked spaghetti, and her knees buckled. Derek put his arm around her waist. “Just walk a little more and the feeling will come back.”

  “I guess I really am a tenderfoot,” she said.

  When she could walk on her own, Kennedy said, “I’m all right now. I can ride if you want to go on.”

  “I wanted to stop here anyway. Let’s walk down to the river—it’s only a short distance.” A few minutes’ walk brought them to the river, which was bordered by high banks. At Riverside, the river was wider and the banks lower. Derek called her attention to a long, two-story concrete building on the opposite bank.

  “All of the Circle Cross land is on the northeastern side of the river except that eighty-acre plot. We don’t do much with that property; there’s no bridge across the river at this point. It’s called the West Eighty, and we use it for grazing in the summer. It’s shallow enough that the cattle have no problem crossing. Some outfit bought it with t
he idea of building a conference center and motel, but they ran out of money before they finished. It’s not part of the original ranch, and you might

  bought it with the idea of building a conference center and motel, but they ran out of money before they finished. It’s not part of the original ranch, and you might want to sell this piece of land.”

  Puzzled, Kennedy asked, “But how did the Blaines get it?”

  “That’s something else you’ll have to ask Smith. I’ve heard that when it was put up for sale, both of your grandfathers put in a bid for it, but Mr. Blaine was the successful bidder.”

  “So that’s another thing causing bad feelings between the Blaines and Morgans?”

  “Probably, but I don’t know.”

  “I suppose I’m just like they were. If I do sell any property, I wouldn’t want my mother’s father to get it.” She smiled grimly. “I don’t feel very Christlike when I have such an attitude.”

  “Maybe you’re the one to bring peace between the two factions,” Derek said. “Have you ever considered that?” She shook her head. “I doubt it.”

  “Let’s go back to the horses,” he said. “Whatever you do with the ranch, you should find out about those eighty acres.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate how good you’ve been to me. You could have kept your first opinion of me and not been a bit helpful, but you’ve gone out of your way to make me feel at home and introduce me to my parents’ homeland. That’s exactly why I came to Nebraska. Since you’re not a relative, I feel that you’ll give me a less biased opinion than Cousin Smith will.”

  “I’ll tell you what I think,” Derek said, “but that might not always be right.”

  “Where are we going now?” she asked when they reached the horses.

  “Back to Riverside but by a longer trail, so I think we’d better sit awhile before we start.” They sat on the ground and leaned back against the trunk of a large cottonwood tree. While they rested, Derek plied her with questions about her college years and the city of Los Angeles.