by Danni Roan
Chase’s body slammed backward, his spine parallel to the horse’s white blanketed one, his arm thrust heavenward as he held tight to his rigging.
The ride was spectacular, the bronc twisting and kicking, doing its best to dislodge the rider, who was equally determined to stay aboard.
The sound of the horse’s grunts and snorts were suddenly interrupted by the buzzer ringing and a rider on a lean palomino rode up beside Chase, pulling him easily from the horse’s back while the crowd cheered.
Slipping from the rump of the pickup horse, Chase raised his hat, a huge grin on his handsome face, his blue eyes shining as he took a knee in the dust and bowed his head.
A quiet hush fell over the crowd for a moment, then the bronc rider rose to his feet and trotted to the fence, tossing himself over the fence as clowns burst into the ring, chased by a long-horned cow that looked both angry and confused.
The rest of the event went off without a hitch, the clowns doing their part to break the tension after the intense ride.
A half an hour later, enthusiastic guests and town folks alike streamed toward the back yard of the ranch house and the huge barbeque laid out on a collection of tables, chattering about the big show.
Phil was soon inundated with congratulations while the riders and rodeo announcer were swarmed by the guests.
As the afternoon wore on Phil watched Chase politely chatting with women who followed him around. She couldn’t help but smirk at his at his forlorn patience.
“Well, who would ‘a thunk it,” an older woman said approaching Phil, a large plate of smoked beef, potato salad, and fruit in her hand. “You done this up real good.”
“Thank you,” Phil replied, her eyes trailing Chase as he slipped away from his fan club through the trees at the back of the ranch.
With the sun slipping westward, a local country band began to play, a final entertainment for a full day. Several couples stood and began dancing as others sat, talking and laughing over hot coffee or cold tea.
Bidding the older woman farewell, Phil made her escape, slipping away toward the quiet of the barn.
A male’s low voice coming from a closed stall drew Phil and she peeked into Amy’s box to see Chase, running a soft brush over the horse’s dark hide.
“I thought you would have had enough of horses today,” Phil teased, slipping through the door. “It must have been hard to tear yourself away from your fan club.” Her smile was wicked as she ran a hand over the horse’s shoulder.
“Why do you think I’m here?” Chase laughed. “I’m not ashamed to admit I’m hiding out.”
“I would have thought that any red-blooded man would enjoy all that attention.” Phil stepped in close, running her finger down his arm with a giggle.
Chase grinned, “There is such a thing as too much of a good thing, you know.” He leaned against the horse’s dark shoulder, turning to look at her fully.
Phil draped her arm over Amy’s smooth back, and the horse shifted, bumping her into Chase’s chest.
Reaching out, the lean cowboy wrapped his arms around her, steadying her and pulling her tight.
Chase’s body was hard and warm and Phil leaned into him instead of pulling away. Today had been a good day and the fact that she found her wrangler attractive made it even better.
Instead of pulling away, Chase eased Phil away from the horse, turning her into an easy two step as the music from outside filtered slowly over them.
“It’s been a good night,” Phil offered, moving her hand to the man’s shoulder and looking for a shared spark in his blue eyes. A moment later her lips found his, filling the barn with summer heat.
Chase wrapped his arms around Phil, pulling her body close, indulging the kiss. The night seemed to sing, filled with an electricity that had nothing to do with the weather.
Phil’s hands slid down Chase’s spine, heat tingling through her finger tips. The feel of his hard-muscled shoulders made her want to dig her fingers in and she clutched his shirt with a sigh.
Chase’s hands found their way into Phil’s dark mahogany hair, the silken tresses twining between his fingers as his heart began a rapid beat.
Phil wriggled closer to Chase, enjoying the sensations of liquid fire on her skin. She kissed the man more fully, nibbling his lip and making him chuckle.
Suddenly she couldn’t think of any of the reasons she’d been denying her attraction to her lead wrangler. It’s not as if she hadn’t worked with lovers before.
Sliding his hands down to her hips, Chase pushed Phil back slightly, letting the cooling air of the coming night roll over him. He’d had a full day of stress and excitement and he’d let this kiss go too far.
Blinking, Phil dropped her hands and looked up into Chase’s strong face, her fingers still wrapped in his shirt. On impulse, she ran her hand along his jaw and took his hand, pulling from the stall and down the barn aisle.
The parking lot was emptying as Chase pulled to a stop at the barn door, effectively pulling Phil to a halt.
A soft smile still gracing her pretty face, Phil turned into the man, kissing him once more. “Why don’t you come into the house for a night cap,” she invited, her violet eyes bright with desire.
A light flush seemed to crawl up Chase’s neck, transferring heat to his cheeks. “I don’t think so,” he said softly, his hand still in hers.
Again, Phil found herself blinking at the lean cowboy. There was no doubt that the man had enjoyed the kissing and yet he was refusing her offer.
“It’s not that I’m not inclined,” Chase said, looking out at the pale pink horizon, “it’s just that some things are best left for man and wife.”
A warm chuckle rolled from Phil’s chest. She was sure the man was joking until she gazed into his eyes. There, mingled in their blue depths, she could see his determination, along with the spark she’d felt to her toes.
“You’re serious,” she said, rocking back on her heels. “Isn’t that rather antiquated?” She sniped dropping his hand. She wasn’t used to rejection.
Placing his hand at her back, Chase half pushed Phil out the door into the deepening night. “You see that windmill?” he asked, turning her toward the corral, back lit by the pink of the setting sun.
“Yes,” Phil, spoke, crossing her arms over her middle.
“It’s antiquated, too,” Chase spoke, his voice a soft purr.
“So?” Phil’s anger bubbled in her breast.
“That windmill has stood on this ranch for over a hundred years. It’s needed repairs over those years, been damaged, rebuilt, and maintained.”
“Chase, what are you trying to say?” Phil asked, hurt and frustration making her voice harsh.
Turning her gently toward him, Chase looked down into her eyes. “Just because something’s antiquated, doesn’t mean it’s not still valid or reliable.” Leaning forward, he kissed her on the brow.
“Folks think that what the Bible says about sex and marriage is some old notion designed to ruin their fun.” Gently his hand caressed her arm, sending those same mixed messages as before. “In reality, those rules are there for a purpose, just like that wind mill. The mill pumps life, giving water out of the ground for the stock, keeping them alive, protecting them from the harsh world, so to speak. God’s Word does the same thing.”
Turning her around again to face the lazily turning sails, Chase wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest. “Those rules are there to help us find true join with the one we love, to seal a commitment and save us from regrets.”
The sound of his voice in her ear was a welcome hum and Phil started to let her annoyance slip away.
A gentle kiss on the top of her head and then she was alone with her thoughts.
Phil ran her hands over arms that suddenly felt chilled. She’d felt safe, warm, wanted in Chase’s arms. Now she felt annoyingly confused and decidedly unsatisfied.
Turning toward the house she crept to her room, lifting Fred from his window where h
e’d been watching the entertainment, and cuddled him close.
“At least you won’t leave me all alone and cold,” she said, rubbing her cheek against his soft head, her thoughts jumbled.
Perhaps reading would help settle her mind, she thought, pulling a letter from the top of the stack and flopping into a chair.
***
Dearest Joshua, December 19, 1865
It is with deep sorrow we received your letter. I can barely comprehend that my dear Bridgette is gone. Her father is taking the news very hard. We had such beautiful hopes for you and Bri on this new adventure in the west.
Although the news is tragic, we praise the Lord for our new little granddaughter. Fiona is a fine name for the sweet babe. We trust that in time we might see her, Katie and Meg. You are in our prayers daily.
Life comes with many sorrows but also great blessings. I ask the Lord to grant you that which you need to continue there in Wyoming and to prosper for your sake and that of the girls.
I can only imagine how Brion has taken the death of his sister. Please be patient with him and have faith through this pain that God’s will is perfect. I do not believe I could survive the trials of this world if I did not believe that there is one who loves me more than any other and who wants only good for us all.
Please take care of yourself, my grandbabies need their father to be strong. Remember that you were brought to that place for a reason, embrace it in faith.
The rest of the letter was full of family news, updates from home, love and prayers.
Phil put the letter down, leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Her great-great-great grandfather had lived through great sorrow but had managed to build something, something lasting.
Fred bumped his head against her chin with a purr, and she smiled.
“You love me, don’t you Fred?” she said, scratching the cat’s head and feeling the vibration of his purring through her hand.
As the cat kneaded her leg with soft paws. Phil’s mind turned to ponder that little word.
Chapter 13
Chase trudged up the stairs of the house he shared with his old friend, walked into his room and flopped down onto the hand-carved bed.
It had been a long day. First his truck, then the drive back to the ranch and the rodeo. He grinned, thinking of changing into his riding clothes in the back seat of Philomena’s car.
A warmth filled his belly, remembering the way her eyes kept straying to where he’d sat tangled in an array of garments.
Stretching out on his back and twining his hands behind his head, Chase stared up at the ceiling. His short-cropped hair still felt strange, prickly and crisp, not like Phil’s silken locks.
He’d like kissing Phi, liked the feel of her curves close to him. He’d let the kissing go too long. He should have walked away earlier. It hadn’t been his intention to lead her on, but the attraction he’d felt for the boss lady from the moment he’d stepped onto the ranch had made him careless.
Staring up at the ceiling, he had to wonder just how mad she would be at him about now. He had no intention of hurting her, but his life had changed when he’d joined the Cowboys of the Cross.
He’d been an angry young man, pouring his aggression and frustration into his rides and working his way up the rankings. The money had been good and soon groupies were trailing him like a comet’s tail.
It was only his dream and commitment to keeping his heritage alive that had kept him from making any truly catastrophic blunders, but when he’d met Red, everything changed.
Red Royal had become a mentor and guide to the skyrocketing bronc rider, helping him find his center and peace. The old buster had taken him under his wing, helping him cope with the stress of even his slight fame.
It was Red that helped him understand the gift of God’s salvation, a gift that had given him a peace he’d never known.
Kicking his feet off the bed, Chase sat up, running his hands through his hair. He’d resisted temptation since then, at least until today.
Huffing out a breath, Chase dropped his head in prayer. He needed to keep his head here, stay the course. He couldn’t afford to lose his heart at this point.
***
“You finally up and around?” Kade jested as Chase dragged himself into the barn the next morning. “I heard you up stomping around late last night.”
“I wasn’t stomping,” Chase said, stifling a yawn. Sleep had come slowly as the hours had slipped away.
Kade chuckled and handed his friend a pitchfork. “We’ve got a little extra clean up duty,” he offered. “Seems the rodeo was a big hit, but picking up after yourself isn’t.”
This time it was Chase’s turn to laugh.
“Randall’s already out cleaning the corral and area used as an arena.” Kade’s blue eyes studied his friend, but didn’t pry.
Chase ambled down the aisle, falling into an age-old routine that was as much a part of him as breathing.
Stepping into the nearest stall, Chase could practically taste Phil’s lips again, the smell of hay and horse, bringing everything from the night before back in a wave.
It wasn’t going to be easy to keep from kissing her senseless the next time he saw her, but he had to. It was plain she wasn’t in the same place he was, and as much as his heart might be drawn to her, his soul was steadfast.
Turning the same clump of soiled straw over several times as his mind meandered through his circumstances, Chase kept coming back to thoughts of Phil.
“You wanna talk about it?” Kade’s deep voice rolled over the half door, catching him by surprise.
“Thought talk wasn’t your strong suit?” Chase jibed.
Kade’s chuckle made him smile.
“It’s my cousin, isn’t it?” Kade let the words drop into the quiet of the early morning.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chase tried, dropping his head and letting his hat cover his eyes.
“Suit yourself.” Kade’s boots scuffed across the hard-packed earth as he turned away, but Chase stopped him with a word.
“Wait,” he said, his voice husky with doubt.
Leaning his heavy arms on the top of the stall door, Kade waited, not saying a word.
“She’s kinda’ got under my skin,” Chase finally said, lifting the soiled straw and finally dumping it into a waiting handcart.
No response came from the big man outside the box, so he continued. “I’m human, so I noticed she’s pretty as a spring filly.”
Dropping his pitchfork in the cart, Chase wheeled it toward the door, which Kade held open until he exited, then closed it with a gentle click as they moved to the next stall.
“Go on.” Kade prompted, entering the neighboring stall to his friend and shoveling the detritus of horse into the cart.
“She’s not like us, Kade,” Chase’s voice was low.
“She hasn’t been where we have.” Kade’s voice was reasonable.
Leaning on the pitchfork he held in one hand, Chase lifted his hat and ran his fingers through his hair.
“What do I do?”
The sound of horses munching or shifting in their stalls filled the quiet barn for several slow heartbeats.
“Pray,” Kade offered.
Chapter 14
The phone ringing had Phil rolling over with a groan and lifting the receiver. “Hello,” she croaked, her eyes barely open.
“Phil?” Michelle’s voice zinged over the wire. “You up?”
“No,” Philomena responded, sitting upright, disturbing Fred, who shot her a long-suffering blink.
“You want me to call back?” Michelle replied hesitantly.
“No,” Phil found her feet, rubbing sleep from sandy eyes. She’d wrestled with sleep into the wee hours and felt it now. “What is it, sweetie?”
“I need a favor.”
“What kind of favor?” Phil found her jeans and slid into them.
“I need you to come to an occasion.”
“Michi, what are
you talking about?” Phil needed coffee if she was going to survive this conversation, and staggered toward the kitchen.
At this hour, even the earliest risers were still in bed, but soft sounds in the kitchen beckoned her onward.
“I just need you to be somewhere in September.”
Mrs. Wade handed Phil a heavy mug full of the ambrosia of the gods called coffee, and she clutched the nectar to her.
“Michelle, that could be one of our busiest months,” Phil replied, sipping her coffee.
“Phil, I just need you for one day, even a few hours.”
Hearing the quaver in her friend’s voice, Phil stopped protesting. “Are you alright?” she asked suspiciously, waiting for the silence to pass.
“Yes” Michelle’s voice sounded small and warning bells began to ring.
“Do you need me to come out there?”
“Phil, I just need you to meet me on a specific date at a specific time at a specific place. Can you do that for me?” a soft hitch catching in her voice had Phil jumping to comply.
“I’ll be there sweetie. Send me the dates, times and details.”
“Thanks Phil. You won’t regret it.” Michelle’s usual chirp returned. “Now drink your coffee so you’re not a grump all day and I’ll talk to you soon.”
The sound of the phone clicking off had Philomena shaking her head. Michelle was the creative type. You never truly knew what she’d do next, but she’d been there for Phil when she needed her, and if a day trip would make her happy, she’d do it.
Sitting at her desk as the sky brightened, Phil drank her coffee and read through her emails as she confirmed bookings for the upcoming weeks.
As the golden haze of dawn climbed over the eastern horizon, casting a halo over the ranch, Philomena refilled her mug and settled down to watch the wranglers lead several horses from the barn and begin tacking them up, while Kade, his bulky shoulders bulging, drove the mules toward the wagon.
They had organized a ride through the summer flowers in the low hills and the wagon was the perfect conveyance. This adventure paired with a gourmet picnic seemed to appeal to a number of newlyweds and couples celebrating anniversaries.
