A Family in Wyoming

by Lynnette Kent

  That meant leaving Wyatt—which would break her heart.

  But if she wanted to control her life, if she wanted to reconnect with her parents with her head held high, she couldn’t continue hiding on the ranch. She needed to be out in the world, making decisions and taking responsibility for what did and did not happen. Her self-respect demanded as much.

  And for the sake of her children, she didn’t dare fail.

  * * *

  AS FAR AS Wyatt was concerned, nothing about the next week was easy. Talking to the deputy sheriff certainly wasn’t, when they had to tell him they hadn’t reported Bradley’s visit to the ranch. The disbelief and resulting disapproval on Daughtrey’s face only confirmed Ford’s assessment of the situation. And knowing that Bradley was out there, on Wyatt’s own land, maybe with a telescope or binoculars trained on Susannah or Nate or Amber, was enough to make him crazy. He wanted to shut the three of them in the house and sit on the porch with his rifle across his knees until Bradley showed up again.

  Because Bradley would show up.

  Instead, Wyatt found himself trapped inside, as he had been all summer, keeping watch without actually locking the place down. Ford, Dylan and Garrett had promised that one of them would always keep Nate in sight. With the boy taken care of, Wyatt made himself responsible for Susannah and Amber.

  And that was the most difficult aspect of the situation because his relationship with Susannah had gone so wrong. Having held her, having kissed her, he couldn’t encounter her without remembering the intensity of that pleasure, without craving another taste, another touch. Even hearing her voice stirred his hunger. And she was always just a room or two away, so he was pretty much always hungry.

  He wanted to do what was best for her, give her the opportunity to choose the direction of her life without the pressure of his feelings. But those feelings kept interfering with his intent. Being in the same room tortured him because he wanted to share everything with her—his ideas about the ranch, his thoughts about history, his reactions to Amber or the weather or the state of the world. The little girl would say something funny at dinner and he would cross glances with Susannah—part laughter, part pride, the kind of look parents would share. He realized he thought of Amber as his own, and that was one of the worst moments of all—he was sending his own away.

  At least he’d been successful in his call to Dave Hicks, who said the kids were welcome to come ride steers at his place anytime. They settled on the following Thursday, which gave Dr. Rachel a chance to arrange her appointments so she could come along as medical backup. The teenagers could hardly wait for the day to arrive—any trip off the ranch was a big deal for them.

  “I take it you’re driving your own truck,” Dylan said to Wyatt that morning, as the kids milled around in the yard, ready to go. “Ford and Caroline will take the van. Do we need another vehicle?”

  “Not as long as you ride with them. Rachel and Garrett will go with me. Plus Susannah and Amber.” He dreaded the trip—more closeness between them without real intimacy.

  Dylan groaned. “Are earphones allowed?”

  As they settled in for the drive, Wyatt kept his eyes on the road—mostly—and his thoughts to himself. Beyond a somber “Good morning,” Susannah said little and sat staring out the side window, which pretty much ensured that their glances wouldn’t cross. Rachel filled the silence with a fairy tale for Amber, one she’d evidently invented during a hayride and campfire earlier in the summer. The little girl remembered the story well and was able to supply several details Rachel had forgotten. Or pretended to, anyway.

  Considering the tension in the front seat of the truck, reaching their destination came as a real relief.

  Located near the Thunder Basin National Grassland, the Twin Oaks Ranch demonstrated a different type of Wyoming terrain from the Circle M. The land was drier because it was farther away from the mountains but, in its own way, it was just as beautiful. Dave Hicks, a big man with red hair and a mustache, met them in front of his gray barn and shook Wyatt’s hand as the kids climbed out of the van. “Gettin’ ready for the youth rodeo over in Buffalo, is that right? Should be a good show, especially with these fine competitors in the mix.” His glance included not just the three kids who would be riding steers but all the teenagers. “Good to see y’all again. Let’s get started.”

  They traipsed after him toward the arena in the distance with Marcos, Thomas and Lena at the head of the group, anxious for their rides. Lizzie kept up with the two boys but stopped them at the pen holding the steers they would be using.

  “I can’t believe you’re going to do this,” she said, shaking her head. “They’re so big!”

  Marcos stared at the animals. “They do look bigger than last time.” He swallowed hard. “But, hey, we’re better than we were last time. We know what to expect. No problem.”

  “I call first up.” Thomas had already put on his protective vest. “I’m ready for that bad boy.”

  “You’re so brave,” Lizzie told him. “I’d be scared to death.”

  As Wyatt passed the pen, Nate suddenly turned away from the fence and caught up with him. “Could I try?”

  Wyatt stared at the boy. “Riding steers? Today?”

  “Yes. And at the rodeo. I don’t have an event to ride in.”

  “I don’t think so, son. You haven’t practiced like the others.”

  “But I ride Blue better than any of them on their horses. Even Lena. I gallop up and down the hills bareback. And I’ve practiced going in between those trees on the far side of the pasture. You know, the ones in a straight line with about twenty feet between them? I can stay on bending from side to side like that, without a saddle. How different can it be?”

  “Bucking on a steer and bending on a horse are not the same. With the horse, you’re in control. Why are you suddenly so crazy to do this?”

  Nate’s gaze followed Lizzie and the other two boys as they walked toward the arena. “They’re not the only ones who can be brave.”

  Wyatt could appreciate the desire to impress a girl. He’d been young once. But the idea was absurd. “They’re the ones who have trained for this all summer. You’re just asking to get injured.”

  “But at least I’ll have tried. That’s something.” Nate stared up at him with the same appealing blue eyes as his sister. “Please.”

  One last weapon. “You’ll have to ask your mother.”

  Those eyes narrowed. “That’s not fair.”

  “You know I can’t do it any other way. If she says so, I’ll let you have a go.”

  Nate stalked off toward the bleachers on the far side of the arena where the kids who weren’t riding sat with Caroline, Amber, Susannah and Rachel. Following, Wyatt admired the boy’s guts. At least he was going to ask, even if the outcome was predictable.

  Wyatt arrived at the bleachers in time to hear Susannah’s answer.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Mom...”

  She shook her head. “You haven’t practiced. And even if you had, I wouldn’t allow you to ride. It’s just too dangerous.”

  “The other kids—”

  “Don’t have me for a mother.”

  “Mr. Ford—”

  “Is not my son.”

  “If you weren’t here,” Nate argued in desperation, “I would have done it.”

  Crossing her arms, she stared at him calmly. “Then you’re lucky because I’m keeping you from getting hurt.”

  Her son held her gaze, pleading in silence, but Susannah didn’t budge. None of the other kids, seated nearby, made a sound.

  After a minute, Nate’s shoulders slumped. He looked down at the ground and then went to sit by himself at the top corner of the stands, as far from his mother and anyone else as he could manage.

  “I told him,” Wyatt said, when Susan
nah glanced at him. “But he had to hear it from you.”

  “Thank you.” She gave him a strained smile. “Saying no isn’t easy. I hope he’ll forgive me someday.”

  Before Wyatt could answer, she turned away to check on Amber, seated behind her. Her message was loud and clear. You set the rules. Now leave me alone.

  He found he couldn’t leave Nate without some kind of consolation, however, and went over to sit beside the boy on the top bench. “There is an event you’re ready for.”

  A snort was his answer. “Mutton bustin’? With the little kids?”

  “Pole bending. If you’ve been weaving through that tree line, you could compete.”

  “It’s not bull riding.”

  “It’s harder than it seems,” Wyatt told him. “It takes control and the kind of skill a cowboy needs for his work.” Having made the offer, he walked away. He’d done his best.

  But his best, these days, didn’t seem to be anywhere near good enough.

  * * *

  BECKY TOOK TWO drinks from the cooler and climbed up to sit beside Nate at the top of the bleachers. She offered him one of the bottles. “Hey.”

  He shook his head without saying anything.

  “Okay.” Setting the bottle between them, she opened her own and took a gulp. “Are you alright?”

  “No.” After a minute, he said, “I’m a loser.”

  “You’re not a loser.” She should know.

  “Oh, that’s right. I have to compete to be a loser, and I can’t even do that.”

  “Why would you want to?”

  At that moment, a steer charged through the gate into the arena with Thomas sitting on its back and holding onto the rope with one hand. The animal kicked up its hind legs, reared and spun, jerking Thomas from front to back and then throwing him off to one side. Mr. Dylan and Mr. Garrett rushed in to get the steer’s attention while Thomas crawled out of the way. Once on his feet, he staggered a little as he walked out, shaking his head.

  A glance at his face told Becky that Nate had watched the ride. “That didn’t go well,” she commented but didn’t get an answer.

  Lena rode next and stayed on longer, but she, too, got bucked off before the whistle blew. “Not a success,” Becky said. “Seems like she’s limping—hope she’s not hurt.”

  Finally, Marcos took his shot, only to fall off just outside the gate.

  “Three up, three down.” Becky shifted to the bench in front of him, looking directly into Nate’s face. “Why would you want to do that? It’s stupid.”

  Even though she was right in front of him, his gaze traveled around her, down and to the side, stopping where Lizzie sat beside Thomas, listening to him complain about the ride.

  “Oh. Right.” Suddenly, she felt like her face was on fire. “So you can impress her. When she doesn’t give a damn about you and never will. You know what?” She spun on the seat, put her feet down and stood up so fast she became a little dizzy. “You are a loser. Because you won’t see the truth, won’t see what’s right under your nose, won’t see what really matters. You’re stupid. Plain stupid.”

  With tears stinging her eyes, she sidestepped her way to the other end of the stands and sat down. She didn’t look back at Nate. Right now, she never wanted to see him again.

  And she didn’t glance up when his mom sat down beside her. “Men can be very dumb,” she said. “Also stubborn.”

  “I don’t care.” Becky took a swig from her bottle. “I was just trying to be friendly.”

  “I understand.”

  “Lizzie’s mean to him. And he doesn’t even care. Because she’s pretty.” The real pain leaked out. “And I’m not.”

  “You’re wrong about that. You are very pretty.”

  Becky shook her head. She didn’t have to repeat what was obvious. What she’d been told often enough.

  But Ms. Susannah wouldn’t quit. “The advantage Lizzie has is that she looks older. Her hair and makeup are styled for a sixteen-year-old. Your pigtails are cute, but they aren’t grown-up. Boys at this age are attracted to grown-up.”

  “My hair won’t do anything else. It’s too curly.”

  “Come with me.” Ms. Susannah stood. “Come on. My purse is down at the bottom.”

  A minute later, Becky sat on the end of a bench with Nate’s mother standing behind her, combing her hair. “You have a heart-shaped face,” she said, her fingers gentle against Becky’s head. “Big brown eyes and plump lips. You’re gorgeous. Isn’t she?” she asked Ms. Caroline and Ms. Rachel, who instantly agreed.

  With her cheeks burning, Becky didn’t know where to look. She wasn’t used to being the center of attention. Not unless she’d done something wrong.

  “Your freckles are part of your charm,” Ms. Caroline added. “And I love the deep red of your hair.”

  “A little foundation and powder will tone those freckles down,” Ms. Rachel said. “That’s what I do. You should see me when I just wash my face!”

  Becky had never before noticed the redheaded doctor’s freckles. “Wow. They are there.”

  She nodded. “They are, but I manage them. You can, too.”

  “There are lots of ways you could braid your hair,” Ms. Susannah said as her fingers worked against Becky’s head. “This one’s pretty simple—just a ponytail braid in back. But it will keep your hair out of your eyes and show off your bone structure.”

  Ms. Caroline rummaged through her purse. “I’ve got a compact with a mirror in here somewhere...there it is.” She opened the little powder case and patted the puff over Becky’s cheeks and forehead, and then she handed it over. “Take a look.”

  Becky peered into the mirror and gasped. Funny, she almost didn’t recognize herself. With her hair pulled off her face, she looked older. And the powder did help with the freckles. Not that she would ever wear as much makeup as Lizzie did. But... “It really does make a difference.”

  “A good difference,” Ms. Susannah said. “And you can do this yourself. Just don’t pull your hair too tight—you want some softness. You could tease out a few loose strands around your face, like that. What do you think?”

  She grinned at the new version of herself. “Nate should be so lucky.”

  And the women standing around her laughed.

  After Thomas, Marcos and Lena each made a second ride—Thomas and Marcos stayed on till the whistle but Lena didn’t—they ate lunch on the bleachers and then went back to the barn, where Mr. Hicks had a surprise for them. Last time, they’d gone for a stagecoach ride around the ranch with a team of four horses. Today, he’d filled a big red wagon full of loose hay, and they got to enjoy an authentic hayride behind a pair of pale gold draft horses called American Creams. With their amber eyes and white manes and tails, the horses were some of the most unusual and beautiful animals Becky had ever seen.

  During the ride, she intercepted startled looks from the other kids—like she’d suddenly grown antlers or pointed ears. No one said anything, though Lena gave her the thumbs-up sign. Nate was the only one who didn’t seem to notice that she’d changed anything. Probably because he just didn’t care.

  That realization darkened the sunny afternoon as far as Becky was concerned, and she sulked through the return trip to the Circle M. Having to clean up the kitchen after dinner didn’t improve her mood, and having to do it with Nate only made matters worse.

  Then, as she was washing the pot used for spaghetti sauce—an icky job—he said, “Your hair looks nice that way.”

  She swiveled her head and just stared at him.

  He shrugged. “I’m stupid, not blind.”

  “Well...thanks.” She wouldn’t let him see her smile. But she had to wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was a little hope after all.

  * * *

  ON THE SATURDAY night after the
trip to Twin Oaks Ranch, Susannah woke suddenly, without knowing why. She immediately rolled over to check on Amber. In the scant light from the bedside clock, her little girl lay still, breathing evenly, her cheeks and forehead cool. No problem there.

  But then a flash of lightning blazed brightly at the window, followed moments later by the growl of thunder. Mystery explained, Susannah sank back against her pillow—the storm must have disturbed her. Rain started hammering the roof, and lightning flared again. She was grateful Amber would sleep through such weather.

  Not so lucky herself, she lay for a while enduring the noise and the light show, counting seconds between flash and roll. They seemed to be coming closer together, unfortunately. Getting to sleep again would take some time.

  But with the storm at its peak, Susannah decided she couldn’t just lie there anymore. She had to be up and ready, though for what she wasn’t sure. After making sure Amber slept on, she eased the bedroom door open and stepped out into the dark hallway. Maybe a drink would help her relax.

  In the kitchen, the light shone over the sink as usual. Water eased her thirst, while also demonstrating that her fingers were trembling. She opened the dishwasher to put the tumbler inside.

  “Everything okay?”

  Susannah gasped and dropped the glass, which landed on the top of her foot and rolled off. “Ow!” She glared at Wyatt. “You startled me.”

  “I’m sorry about that. Are you alright?”

  Bending to pick up the glass, she massaged the top of her foot. “Bruised, but I’ll live.” With the glass placed securely in the dishwasher, she peered at him where he stood across the room in the shadows. “What are you doing up?”

  “Storm woke me. I always think about the animals on a night like this.”

  There he went, disarming her, damn him. “I guess all they can do is stand there and get wet.”

  “Pretty much. It’s the lightning that’s the problem.” At his words, a bolt sizzled and cracked nearby with an almost simultaneous boom of thunder.