by Danni Roan
“Yes, I’ve always loved animals. My parents had a dog and used to let me ride the ponies in the park when I was small. Sometimes we’d go to the zoo.”
Closing the passenger door behind her, Chase moved around to the driver’s side and slid smoothly over the cracked vinyl seat, turning the key in one motion.
Phil grinned as the old truck rumbled to life and Chase turned out of the ranch yard, bumping across the hard-packed dirt track.
“This old truck’s not much,” Chase offered apologetically, “but I should be able to get most of the gear in the back.”
“Good,” Phil replied. “I ordered the riding helmets online and they’ll be delivered in about a week, but I’ll leave the rest to you.”
“You trust me with all that?” Chase asked, his lips twitching toward a smile.
“I trust Kade,” Phil stated simply. “He hasn’t steered me wrong yet and he trusts you, so…” she trailed off, lifting her hands with a shrug.
“I don’t remember Kade ever mentioning you,” Chase offered. “Did you know him before?” He waved his hand to encompass the quickly receding ranch land.
“My parents only ever brought me out to the ranch a few times,” Phil answered honestly. “My father didn’t always see eye-to-eye with Uncle David, but he tried to keep in touch.”
“You grew up in the city?’
“Not entirely, no.” Phil adjusted her seat, thinking of her parents.
“Where are your folks now?” Chase asked innocently.
“Gone,” Phil offered softly. She’d been thinking of them more and more as she’d settled into the Broken J.
“I’m sorry,” Chase said, his voice quiet and full of sympathy.
Phil turned to watch the prairie whizzing by as they bounced along the dirt road that led to the main road.
“It’s been a long time,” she said, trying to shrug it off. “My first year in college, they were killed in a car accident.”
“That’s rough.”
Phil shrugged. “It’s life, I guess.” She still gazed at the variety of green of the open land. “At least I had Michi.”
“Michi?” Chase’s voice was inquisitive.
“Michelle.” Phil replied, a smile finding its way back to her face as she turned toward him. “My best friend. She was my college roommate. She’s the one who does all my graphic design now.”
“The images for the website and the brochures you mentioned, she did that?”
“Yep, she’s very talented.” Phil couldn’t help smiling as she thought of her friend, but then a scowl crossed her face again.
“What’s wrong?” Chase asked, picking up on her mood shift.
“I wish she’d come here.” Phil shook her head. “I think it would be good for her to have a break.”
“Big city folks are always in a hurry,” Chase teased, restoring her good humor.
“How about country folks?” she chided. “Kade never seems to stop. He’s put as much muscle, sweat and blood into the changes at the Broken J as anyone. I haven’t exactly seen you slacking since you arrived, either.”
“Maybe we should do something about that.” Chase’s voice was full of mischief. “How about once I get the horses adjusted to their new home, I take you out for a nice ride?”
Phil couldn’t help but smirk; there were several things she thought she might like to do with her new wrangler. He was a handsome man in a rough and rugged sort of way.
Pushing the thoughts away, she nodded. “I’d like that,” she replied thinking, “it will give me a chance to get the lay of the land, so to speak.”
“I was trying to talk Kade into riding out with me, but I think I remember the old trails well enough to show you around.”
“I guess we’re back to that working break again,” Phil laughed.
Chase turned his eyes toward the pretty woman sitting across the bench seat from him. Her window was down and her dark ponytail swished in the breeze. She was looking out the window again and he took a few seconds to soak in her appeal.
He’d never guessed that when he’d agreed to help out his old friend that his boss would be so attractive.
“What else do you still need to do before the guests arrive?” he finally asked, turning the truck onto the smoother surface of the asphalt road.
“I’ve got a whole list,” Phil laughed, “I’ve got crews on everything. Mrs. Wade’s dealing with staff, I’m doing bookings, marketing and all the other details, and the construction crews are almost done.”
“The place looks good,” Chase commented. “Better than I’ve ever seen it.”
“When’s the last time you were here?” Phil asked curiously.
“Almost ten years ago.” A flicker of some emotion race across his chiseled jaw. “I was eighteen,” he continued, “I’d been rodeoing semi-professionally for almost two years when my father lost our place. I gathered up what stock I could and hit the circuit full time to keep them fed.”
“That must have been hard,” Phil said, unsure what else to say.
This time it was Chase’s turn to shrug. “My pa was a bad gambler,” he said, his eyes steady on the road. “He turned from raising stock and riding horses to racing quarter horses. He lost the whole business and ranch playing the ponies.”
“Then how were you able to keep the other horses?” Phil asked, bewildered.
“Butch and the broodmares were stock and reining horses,” Chase said. “My grandfather had left them to me in his will, even if my father had rights to the ranch. I was eighteen and could take what was mine.”
Impulsively, Phil reached out and laid her hand on his arm, feeling the muscles flex and roll under her fingers. “I’m glad you could join us, then. Not only do I get a string of horses, they get a new home.”
Placing her hand back in her lap, Phil let the word resonate in her mind. Home. She’d had many homes over the years. Her parents had the wanderlust and had moved her several times as a child, then there was college, and finally her big apartment in Manhattan.
She wondered what it was that truly made a place a home, her mind turning back to the letters she’d been reading. What must it have been like to feel you were part of something bigger than yourself?
Philomena Allen wasn’t sure what that would be like, but she hoped with all her heart she was starting it at the Broken J. As they rolled into the small town of Tipton, she determined to do her best to find her roots.
“Where to first?” Chase asked, slowing. “Do you want me to drop you at Baron’s?” he asked as he pulled into a parking space.
“No, you head over to the tack shop and I’ll walk.” Reaching for the door handle, she twisted to look at him. “How long do you think you’ll be?”
“Better give me two hours,” Chase said seriously. “It’ll give me time to look at everything and maybe find a bargain or two.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Phil said, pushing the door open and sliding off the seat. “You have my number, so call if you need me. Otherwise, I’ll meet you there in two hours to settle up.”
Closing the door with a bang, she headed down the rough sidewalk toward the lawyer’s offices.
For several moments, Chase sat in his battered truck watching the receding sway of his pretty boss as she walked down the street. She sure wasn’t what he’d expected, but he didn’t mind the surprise.
Bowing his head, he lifted a silent prayer that this whole endeavor would work out and prosper; he needed it to work.
Chapter 7
Chase chuckled as he tossed the last saddle in the back of his truck and pulled the tarp over his haul. Benson Rose had been making saddles and other leather goods since before Chase could remember, and he had a good number of old style saddles, bridles and accessories in his simple establishment.
High cantled, wide horned, seats of deep browns, russets and ochers, even beige and black items had graced the racks and hooks of the shop. The work was stout, hardy and beautiful and would fit in nicely with the antique tack that was stil
l being used on the ranch.
Again, Chase chuckled, a low rumble from his middle as he patted the tarps. He’d even picked up some interesting youth saddles and used tack that saved on the budget. “Spare change never hurts,” he finished, climbing into the cab of his truck.
***
Philomena sighed, stepping into the sun of the open street and taking another sip of her large iced latte before studying the new lipstick stain on the straw. It was a pretty color, a deep primrose, both cheery and subtle at once.
The little indulgences felt good; it seemed as if she’d had her nose to the grindstone or in a dusty letter for so many weeks she’d forgotten about herself.
Shifting her bag on her shoulder, Phil lifted her eyes, catching a glimpse of a smiling Chase as he slid into his battered truck. Picking up her pace, she made her way to the truck and pulled open the door with a screech.
“All done?” she asked, sliding onto the seat.
“Yep, ready to roll?”
“Uhm hm,” she agreed around her coffee straw as the lean cowboy turned the key and shifted into first.
“Paperwork all ready to go?” Chase asked, pulling his eyes away from the woman’s lush pink lips.
“Yep, did they have enough saddles and other tack to outfit the horses and guests?”
“More than enough. I got everything we need and didn’t even bust the bank.” Chase offered, a grin spreading over his strong-jawed face. “Maybe you’d like to try some of it out tomorrow and take a trail ride with me.” His blue eyes sparked in invitation.
“Alright,” Phil agreed, “we can talk staffing along the way.”
“Kade and I have been discussing the remaining staff and he’s got a friend he’d like to give a chance as second wrangler.”
“Kade’s been a god-send since I arrived at the ranch. I’m good with marketing, concepts and PR, but Kade understands everything ranch related. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”
Chase laughed softly. “Kade knows more about the Broken J and its history than just about anyone. He’s been there his whole life.”
“You’ve been friends a long time, haven’t you?” Phil asked, turning to study him as she sipped her coffee.
“Kade’s a lot smarter than most folks give him credit for,” Chase offered tentatively.
“Why do you say that?”
Chase shrugged, stretching the plaid of his faded shirt tight. “Folks seem to think that because Kade’s so big, he’s not very bright, slow like.”
“Oh, I’d never thought of that,” Phil admitted. “He was the first person I met when I arrived at the ranch, and even though I could have turned his whole world upside down, he welcomed and accepted me.”
“That’s Kade,” Chase agreed, turning onto the dusty track to the Broken J. “His heart’s every bit as big as he is.”
Phil watched Chase’s eyes fall. “Kade’s been alone too much on that place.” His voice dropped. “He was my best friend in school, I guess he still is, even if I haven’t’ been around much. I should have been here more for him.”
“You were only eighteen when you left, weren’t you?” Phil asked.
“I was an angry, young man when I left Wyoming,” Chase agreed, “but that’s behind me now.” He grinned again, rolling through the arched gate. “Now I’ll have to get all that gear stashed.”
As the truck came to a stop, Phil noted the sorrow in the handsome man’s blue eyes and something in her wanted to reach out for him, but she resisted.
“You still up for that ride tomorrow?” Chase asked, his mood shifting again as he cut the engine.
“I’ll be there, I just hope I can remember how,” she cast over her shoulder with a wave, jumping out of the truck and heading to the house.
***
“Kade,” Phil called, stepping out of her office as the screen door banged shut the next day. “Who was Jerusalem James?” she asked, then squealed as she bounced off the hard body of Chase, who had just entered the house.
“Sorry,” Chase said, grasping her arms to steady her.
“Oh,” Phil started, looking up into his eyes. “It’s my fault. I had my nose in another of these letters,” she offered, her violet eyes glued to his as the warmth of his hands tingled through her arms.
“Another one huh?” His lips tugged into a grin. “I came to see if you’re ready for that ride.”
“Already?” Phil looked out at the early morning sun, mere inches above the horizon.
Dropping his hands, Chase grinned. “The horses don’t mind.”
Phil smiled at his quip. “I’ll be a minute,” she said, turning back into her office and bedroom.
“Is Kade going, too?” she asked at the last minute, her mind on the letter again.
“No, he’s working the mules, then driving out to check the cattle before that wrangler turns up.”
“I hear my name?” Kade stepped into the house, removing his hat and poking his head into the office to see Philomena pulling on her boots.
“Oh, Kade!” Phil’s voice was excited as she jumped to her feet with a clomp of boots. “I found this letter and wanted to know who Jerusalem was and why she sent this apology to Joshua.”
Reaching out a large hand, Kade Ballard took the letter from his cousin, running his eyes over it quickly.
“Jerusalem was Joshua’s only sister,” he offered, looking down at Phil. “Joshua sent his youngest out to live with her for a spell, but it didn’t work out.”
“Well whatever happened, she surely wrote a pretty apology to the family. She mentions a man named George as well. If I’m understanding this right, she ended up happy.” Phil took the letter back. “Listen.”
Dear Joshua,
I hope this letter finds you well and that you will not ignore my pleas for forgiveness. I realize now that I have been a wicked and selfish woman and am truly sorry for the sorrow and grief I have caused you and others.
George and I are settled in a little house outside of Boston and are very comfortably situated. I was not at all prepared for the changes that befell me these past few years, but am coming to realize that wealth and happiness do not necessarily go hand in hand.
I will not say that the adjustments have been easy, but I have found not only peace here, but also love. George has helped me see the error of my ways, perhaps not in the most conventional romantic ways, but with true dedication.
I finally understand now what they mean when they say the Lord works in mysterious ways.
Please send my love to the girls. I only wish I had more of an opportunity to truly get to know each and every one of them. Perhaps someday they can find it in their hearts to forgive me and we will come to visit again.
All my love,
Jerusalem.
“That’s interesting,” Kade said, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe we’ll find out more as you get through the letters. In the meantime, I think someone’s waiting for you.”
“Oh, yes, I’d better go.” Phil pushed through the screen door, heading to the barn where she could see Chase standing next to a big roan and the dark mare from the day before.
She had almost reached the mounts when the big roan shifted, exposing the full-length of the mahogany bay mare, with the most amazingly black and purple saddle she’d ever seen strapped to her back.
Chase studied Phil’s surprised face, a wicked twinkle entering his lapis eyes.
“You like it?” he asked, as she turned slowly toward him.
“It’s very purple,” she said, turning and catching the glint of mischief.
“I got it for a song.” His comment was quiet. “I thought you liked purple.” His lips twitched but he managed to suppress the smile.
“I do like purple,” she said, “but the whole seat is purple and the black leather has purple gems around the skirts.”
“Amethyst,” Chase said. “Well not the real stuff, but I thought it was fitting.”
“Fitting, fitting for what?” Phil moved closer, ru
nning her hand over the soft purple suede seat.
“For Amy,” Chase offered, losing his battle with the smile, “her full name is Amethyst Dream.”
Phil turned to look at the svelte cowboy, who was grinning from ear to ear. “At least you don’t have a purple breast band or bridle,” she said, not admitting she rather liked the sparkle of the tack.
“So, you don’t like it?” Chase tipped his head, studying her from under his hat.
“I didn’t say that,” Phil admitted, gathering the reins. “It isn’t very old west, though, is it?”
“No,” Chase admitted, suddenly serious as he unwound his horse’s reins from the hitching post and stuck a foot in a stirrup. “But I did think that some of our young riders might like it. There’s a pink one and a teal one as well.”
Phil couldn’t help but smile now herself. The bright colors would surely capture the attention of some of their guests. “How much did you say you paid for this?” she asked, swinging into the saddle with some effort.
“I got the whole kit and caboodle for three-fifty,” Chase said, “including the colored breast bands and bridles,” he added, swinging his horse away from the barn and kicking him into a trot.
Philomena Allen tossed her head back and laughed, grabbing her saddle horn and turning Amy after Chase at a canter.
Chapter 8
Philomena lifted her face to the morning sun as she eased Amy into a trot. It had been too many years since she’d ridden, but the feeling was familiar and comforting. The easy rhythm of the horse’s gait was smooth, but even so, she knew she’d be feeling it tomorrow.
Together she and Chase splashed across the stream at the far end of the ranch compound and a thrill passed through her as she realized she was riding the same trails her grandmother and great=grandmother had ridden.
She thought of the letters she’d been reading and wondered what adventures had occurred on this very soil.
“There’s an old saw mill down there along the creek.” Chase’s voice brought her back to the moment. “Kade and me, we used to go play down there when we were kids.”
