Her Kind of Cowboy

by Charlotte Douglas

  Seeking reassurance that her pony was okay, Hannah cast a glance at Harry, contentedly munching grass beneath an apple tree, before following Caroline into the kitchen.

  At the sound of a crash that shook the floor beneath them, they turned and stared out the screen door. The barn had collapsed from the flames.

  Ethan! His name screamed in her heart, and she stumbled with grief until she recognized him, standing safely among the other firefighters at a distance from the collapsed structure.

  “Oh, Caroline, your beautiful barn. It’s ruined.” Hannah’s eyes teared with sadness.

  Caroline released the breath she’d been holding. “Barns can be rebuilt, sweetie. I’m so grateful that you and Ethan and Harry are all right.”

  Hannah’s sorrowful expression brightened. In an unexpected and totally uncharacteristic move, she threw her arms around Caroline and squeezed with all her might. “I love you, Caroline.”

  Overcome with affection and gratitude, Caroline hugged her back and struggled to find her voice. “I love you, too, sweetie.”

  * * *

  THE VIOLENT STORM passed as quickly as it had approached. By the time the firefighters had finished mopping up hot spots, the sun had come out, casting prisms of light among the droplets of water glistening on the ruined timbers.

  Ethan, grimy and soaked with water and sweat, sat on the porch steps with Josh Mauney, Joe’s son, Tom Fulton from the department store, Jay-Jay from the garage and the other well-trained volunteers of the Pleasant Valley fire department. Caroline and Hannah moved among them, serving thick ham sandwiches and iced tea.

  Ethan couldn’t stop smiling. Not only had he saved Hannah and Harry, he’d conquered his demons. He’d been so concerned for Hannah that without hesitation, without the constriction in his chest or uncontrollable tremors in his hands, he’d rushed straight into the burning barn to do the job he was trained to do. And he’d done it well. Even though they hadn’t saved the barn, they’d kept the blaze from spreading to the outbuildings and the house, and no one had been hurt. He was a little shaky now, as he always was when the adrenaline rush faded and he was running on its fumes, but for the first time since Jerry’s death, he felt almost whole again. Caroline’s words of gratitude and the warmth in her eyes spiked his good mood even higher. After a run of horrible luck, maybe fate was finally working in his favor.

  He’d wanted to grab Caroline and hold her when he’d read the message of love in her eyes, but he had one more task to complete before asking her to spend her life with him. She didn’t know the full story. Actually, he didn’t know the full story. Maybe his demons were only hiding and would eventually return. He had to tell Caroline the whole truth and let her decide whether he was worth the risk.

  As the firemen finished up their work, he slid into the cab of his truck and headed home. He wanted to talk to Caroline, but first he needed a good scrub and fresh clothes.

  * * *

  AT THE SOUND of a truck backing out of the yard, Caroline looked up from her conversation with Tom Fulton to see Ethan’s truck pulling away. Her heart sank. She hadn’t had a chance to thank him properly for rescuing Hannah and Harry, and he’d left without even a goodbye.

  But what had she expected? He was a firefighter, after all, and had only done his job.

  But he was more than that, her heart insisted, would always be so much more than just a fireman or an artist or the tenant who leased her cottage. Watching him rush into those flames had made her realize how much she loved him, how she’d come to count on his presence in her life, as necessary as air and sunshine.

  She’d also realized where her heart belonged. Not in some distant, nonexistent ranch out west. Her fantasy was merely that—a fantasy, a dream as insubstantial as air. But Ethan and Hannah were solid, real, flesh and blood whom she loved better than her own life. And Blackberry Farm was all the home she’d ever need.

  “What?” she realized she hadn’t heard a word Tom had been saying.

  “I said I hope insurance will build you a new barn.” Tom smiled and his teeth flashed white in his grimy face. “We haven’t had a good old-fashioned barn raising in the valley in a long time. One way or another, we’ll get it rebuilt for you.”

  Josh Mauney stood beside him. “If you need a place for the pony in the meantime, you can bring it to our farm.”

  Emotion welled in her throat. These men and their fellow volunteers had risked their lives to save her property, and now they were offering even more help. She wondered if there was another place in the world where such goodness and generosity prevailed.

  “Thank you all, for everything.”

  “That’s why we’re here, missy.” Jay-Jay had coiled the last hose onto the truck. “Just doing our job. And your tenant knows his stuff.” He surveyed the yard, looking for Ethan. “Didn’t get a chance to thank him for his help.”

  The men climbed into their vehicles and rolled down the drive at a much slower pace than their arrival. Caroline reached for Hannah’s hand. “C’mon, sweetie. A nice bubble bath will soak out the stench of all that smoke.”

  Two hours later, after a supper where Ethan hadn’t appeared, Caroline tucked a sweet-smelling, well-fed, and exhausted Hannah into bed. Tonight when she planted a kiss on the girl’s forehead, Hannah lifted her arms and hugged Caroline around the neck. In that instant, Hannah became her child, the daughter she would love and nurture and raise to adulthood. Even if she had to do it alone.

  She tucked the sheet around Hannah, who was already half asleep, checked that the daisy night light was on, and left the room, closing the door behind her.

  When she reached the foot of the stairs, she started at the unexpected sight of Ethan, standing in front of the fireplace in the parlor. Happiness flooded her—until she noted his somber expression.

  “Are you all right?” she asked. “We missed you at supper.”

  “Took a little longer than I expected to get rid of the smoke and soot.” Raw emotion edged his voice, and agony creased his face. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

  She braced herself for the worst and hoped for the best. Gesturing to a chair on one side of the fireplace, she sat opposite it. “Sit down. I’m listening.”

  He folded his lanky frame into the chair and clasped his big, strong and gentle hands between his knees. “I killed my brother.”

  She jerked her head up with surprise, certain that she’d heard wrong. “I don’t believe it.”

  He nodded and his eyes glistened with moisture. “It’s true.”

  But she still didn’t believe it, not for a minute. A man as kind, as loving, as compassionate as Ethan wasn’t capable of murder. There had to be more to the story. “You’d better tell me everything.”

  Ethan caught her gaze and held it. “I’ve needed to talk about it, but I haven’t been able to, not to anyone—until now.”

  “Why now?” Her voice cracked as she struggled to keep her feelings from spilling over.

  The barest glimmer of a smile broke through the sadness on his face. “Because of you, Hannah, this farm, this valley, and its people.”

  She nodded, not wanting to interrupt the flow of his story.

  Ethan leaned back in his chair and wiped his hand over his forehead, as if wanting to erase the memories stored there. He took a deep breath, like a man preparing to plunge off a high dive, then released it. “It happened last February.

  “We got a call at the firehouse around midnight.
An abandoned warehouse in the waterfront district was ablaze. The cops feared homeless people who used it for shelter were trapped inside. We rolled the engines.”

  He shook his head. “Jerry, my brother, was all pumped up. He loved fighting fires even more than I did, and that was saying something. At first I’d been afraid he’d become a fireman just to imitate me, his big brother, but he was a natural, like it was in his blood.”

  He paused and Caroline waited, not knowing where his story was headed. The grandfather clock chimed in the hall, and outside the open window, a whip-poor-will called in the warm summer darkness.

  “Jerry was good,” Ethan said, “but he wasn’t a hot dog. He was careful, played by the book. When we reached the scene, the supervisor sent us on search and rescue to locate the homeless and get them out while the others fought the fire.”

  In her mind’s eye, Caroline could see him, decked out in his heavy gear, walking unafraid into the blaze, just as he’d run into the barn this afternoon.

  “We did a grid search of the building,” Ethan continued, “and found no one. We were turning to leave when I saw Jerry’s face through his mask. I could tell by his eyes a split second before it happened that something was wrong.”

  Ethan squeezed his eyes shut, as if trying to block the sight in his memory.

  Caroline waited a moment, then prompted gently, “What happened?”

  Ethan opened his eyes and cleared his throat before he was able to continue. “The floor gave way beneath him. One minute he was standing in front of me. The next he was gone. I flung myself facedown and inched across the floor toward the hole where he’d disappeared. He was dangling from a floor joist by one hand. I reached for him, and he grabbed me with his free hand, then released the joist and gripped my other hand. The flames from the floor below were all around us, but I couldn’t let go. I knew I had to hang on until help arrived to pull him out, because as hard as I tried, I couldn’t get enough of a grip to pull him free.”

  He looked at her with a twisted grin. “You’ve heard that old song, ‘He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother’?”

  She nodded and blinked away tears.

  “He was my brother, but with all his equipment, he weighed a ton. I hung on with everything I had until I thought my arms would pull from their sockets. I knew the others would come for us. All I had to do was hold on long enough.

  “Jerry screamed to let him go, to get out and save myself. Called me a stubborn bastard. I told him nothing he called me could compare to what Mom would say if I left him.” He swallowed hard. “But Mom never said a word, except that she didn’t blame me. That Jerry had died doing what he loved.”

  Caroline’s heart broke for Ethan. “You couldn’t hold him?”

  Ethan shook his head. “My gloves slipped off. Jerry plunged straight through to the floor below.” Ethan paused, as if fighting for breath, and a single tear spilled over and slid down the contour of his rugged cheek. “He was still holding my gloves when we found him.”

  The burns on his hands, Caroline thought. That explained them. “But you didn’t kill him. You did everything you could to save him.”

  Ethan tapped his forehead. “Intellectually I know that.” He placed his hand over his heart. “But here I’ll always feel I failed him.”

  Caroline shook her head. “I didn’t know Jerry, but I doubt very much that he’d want you beating yourself up over this.”

  “There’s more you have to know.”

  She steeled herself for bad news. Maybe the barn fire had resurrected too many bad memories and Ethan was going to leave, to flee them and the valley as he’d fled Baltimore. “I’m still listening.”

  “I fell apart when Jerry died. Anxiety, depression, night terrors, nightmares. I couldn’t work. My throat closed up at the slightest whiff of smoke and I couldn’t breathe. I went to a therapist, took meds, but nothing seemed to help. That’s when I joined the online chat room for people dealing with post-traumatic stress disorder. That’s where I met Eileen.”

  “Calvin’s murder must have haunted her for her entire life. I’m glad we decided to keep it our secret. She suffered enough in life. At least now she can rest in peace.”

  Ethan nodded. “I’ll always be grateful for her offering me a place where I’d have peace and quiet and space to heal.”

  He caught her gaze and smiled, like the sun sliding from behind a cloud. “And I did heal. Every day I’ve been here in the valley with you, I’ve grown stronger. The nightmares have ended. And I was able to run into the burning barn for Hannah and Harry without hesitating. A month ago, I would have frozen, been unable to act.”

  Caroline recalled the sculpture of tortured metal in Ethan’s barn. His past, he’d called it. Now it all made sense.

  Ethan rose from his chair, knelt before her and gathered her hands in his. She looked at his horrible scars as badges of honor.

  “I want to spend the rest of my life,” he said, “here with you and Hannah. I want to marry you, Caroline, if you’ll have me.”

  Her heart had been breaking with sadness. Now it flooded with joy. She started to answer, but he pressed his fingers against her lips.

  “Don’t answer yet. There’s something else you must consider.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know if I’m completely healed. The nightmares, the anxiety, the whole PTSD ball of wax could recur, hit me when I least expect it. That’s a lot to ask anyone to share. You have to factor that in to any decision you make.”

  Caroline nodded, undeterred. “Eileen always said that life doesn’t come with guarantees. That all we have is one day at a time. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than spend one day at a time with you, Ethan, for the rest of my life.”

  “You wouldn’t rather wait for your cowboy?” he said, half teasing, half worried.

  She flung her arms around him. “Ethan Garrison, I wouldn’t trade you for all the cowboys in Texas.”

  EPILOGUE

  THE EARLY JUNE DAY was mild and bright, perfect weather for the outdoor event. Ethan gazed around the tables set up on the lawn, and his heart filled with happiness at the sight of his friends.

  Merrilee and Grant pushed back from their chairs to chase Sophia, who’d toddled off in pursuit of a butterfly. Rand and Brynn smiled at Jared as Jodie placed her five-month-old baby in the little boy’s outstretched arms, and Jeff beamed with pride at his son.

  The boys and staff from Archer Farm stood in line for seconds at the buffet table on the front porch. Sitting at tables scattered across the lawn, neighbors and friends from town chatted in small groups over empty plates and refilled glasses of sweet iced tea. Even Agnes, sitting with Aunt Mona, seemed to be having a good time. Being on her own had been good for Agnes. She’d reconciled herself to Caroline’s leaving home, and had become less clingy, and had surprised everyone by doting on Hannah and Daniel.

  Ethan had found his peace in the valley. And with that peace had come love, contentment and a sense of accomplishment. Orchard Cottage and Meadow Place had been completely restored and rented. And Merrilee, through her contacts with New York City art galleries, had enabled Ethan to sell his sculptures at prices that guaranteed he’d never have to work again.

  But he was working. He’d joined the Pleasant Valley Fire and Rescue, who, fortunately, weren’t called out often, giving him plenty of time not only to continue to restore the farm and create his art but to be a husband and father, too.

  He glan
ced at Caroline, sitting beside him, and his heart swelled with love. It was time. He stuck two fingers in his mouth and gave a sharp whistle. At the sound, the guests gave him their attention.

  “Thank you all for coming today,” he began. “We have many things to celebrate and we appreciate your sharing in our happiness. First, I want to congratulate Daniel on his graduation from high school and his winning a scholarship to the University of South Carolina in Columbia.”

  Everyone clapped, and the Archer Farm contingent burst into loud cheers and whistles. At his place at the table beside Hannah and Caroline, Daniel blushed and pushed to his feet for a brief bow to acknowledge the approval.

  “But that’s not all the good news,” Ethan continued. “We’re also here today to celebrate Hannah and Daniel’s official entry into our family. Their adoption has gone through the paperwork hoops and they are now legally what they’ve been in reality for almost a year, Hannah and Daniel Garrison, our daughter and son.”

  Cheers and applause rang out again, and Ethan waited for them to cease before he sprung the surprise he’d worked so hard to pull off. From his vantage point, he caught a glimpse of Grant, who had disappeared at the beginning of Ethan’s announcements and now waited almost out of sight around a curve in the drive.

  Ethan grabbed Caroline’s hand and pulled her to her feet beside him. “Today,” he announced, “is also the six-month anniversary of our wedding, and I have a little present for my wife.”

  Hearing his cue, Grant started up the drive, leading behind him two horses, complete with saddles and bridles.

  He heard Caroline’s swift intake of breath, saw the surprise and pleasure flash across her beloved face, and knew his gift was a hit.

  “You always wanted a horse,” he said. “I figured we’d learn to ride together. Who knows? Maybe I should have been a cowboy. We’ll find out.”