Love Letters & Home (Whispers In Wyoming #1)

by Danni Roan

  Phil wondered how Kade could stand all the romance and kissy, kissy stuff. A soft blush rose up her cheeks as she remembered the kisses she’d shared with Chase the night before.

  Standing, she let her eyes find him. He was by the barn, buckling the cinches on one of the six horses in the morning string. Phil let her eyes rake the cowboy, taking in the lean hips and wide shoulders that had caught her attention before. She decided she liked the new, short hair that glistened under his battered hat.

  There was no doubt he was a fine piece of manhood. Lean, well-muscled, virile. A warm trickle seemed to fill her belly. She found his rugged manhood appealing; even his old-fashioned ways were somehow intriguing.

  Heaving a sigh, she turned back to her computer and tried to concentrate, blocking out the sounds of happy early-birds tromping down the stairs and into the kitchen or parlor to start their day.

  As the morning wore on and guests dispersed to their various activities, Phil found it harder and harder to concentrate. The sound of a car pulling up in front of the house was a welcome distraction, and she hurried to the front porch to greet new guests.

  The sleek red sports car creeping into the drive was a jarring contrast to the soft greens and golds of the open prairie, but it couldn’t be ignored.

  “Hell of a ride,” Asher spoke, slipping from the rich, tan leather of the expensive vehicle.

  “Ash, what on earth are you doing here?”

  Brushing a fleck of dust from his charcoal suit, the raven-haired man smiled. “Curiosity,” he smirked, “though I hear that killed the cat.” He added with a feral grin, “Speaking of which, is that beast of yours still about?”

  “Fred? Oh yes, Fred seems to find life as the resident cat suits him to perfection.”

  “It doesn’t seem to be doing you any harm, either,” Ash said, scanning her shapely legs encased in soft denim.

  At one time Phil, would have enjoyed the complement and the way the man was looking at her with a gleam in his eye. Now, it left her feeling uncomfortable and empty.

  “Thank you,” she said, not truly meaning it.

  “So how about the five-dollar tour?” Ash stepped up onto the porch, looking around skeptically.

  “Come into the house. We’ll start there.”

  They moved through the house, Ash looking at the old photos and scanning the framed letters. He seemed impressed with the kitchen and was more than happy to try some of Mrs. Wade’s fresh treats.

  “Your cook must keep the guests happy,” the well-groomed man offered as they moved out the back door and along toward the bath house that had been converted to a spa, its large cooper tubs, green with age, still a big attraction.

  “Mrs. Wade is a hit with everyone.”

  “What’s that?” Ash asked again, pointing toward the old sod shack that had been plastered and painted, creating a cozy little cottage for any couple.

  “That’s the soddy,” Phil replied. “It’s actually one of the original buildings, made primarily with clumps of sod cut from the prairie.”

  Raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow, Phil’s former partner turned toward the small hut, ignoring the chaff and dust accumulating on his wingtips. “Is it occupied?”

  “No,” Phil answered, skipping a step to keep up as Ash placed a hand on the door and pushed. “Are you serious?” he laughed, stepping over the threshold.

  “What?” Phil’s temper prickled, climbing up her arms.

  “This is so cliché.” Ash continued gazing around the one-room structure, it’s heavy beams muting the sunlight pouring through a single window on the far wall. “It’s actually got a little potbellied stove and wash stand,” the man chuckled.

  “There is a full bath discreetly tucked in a room that bumps off the back.” Phil’s voice was soft as she tried to keep from sounding defensive.

  “Of course, that big, hand-carved bed does look inviting.” Ash turned back to her, hooking a finger in a loop of her jeans.

  “My cousin’s great-great-grandfather carved that bed,” Phil offered, feeling proud of the heritage she was only now coming to understand.

  Pulling her close, Ash leaned toward her. “Don’t you get bored out here with the yokels?” he drawled, his dark eyes boring into hers.

  Slipping from his grasp, Phil moved just out of reach. “I like it here,” she said, looking around at the rustic room. “I feel…” she hesitated, wondering what it was exactly that she felt. “I feel at home,” she finally spoke, turning back to the man.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Ash laughed again. “I’d go out of my mind around here. What do you do? Who do you even talk to?” His voice was incredulous.

  “I’m busy,” Phil said, crossing her arms over her middle. “I’m booked all the way to the end of October. I’ve got a business to run, ads to run, employees.” A sudden sense of contentment poured into her and Phil smiled. “I’ve even made friends.”

  “You’re serious.” Ash’s voice was full of wonder. “You actually like it here.”

  “Yes Asher, I actually like it here,” Phil sniped, “Why is that so hard to believe?”

  “You were always so driven, so determined.” Ash turned to stare at her. “What happened?”

  “I’m still driven and determined.” Phil said, her voice dropping as things snapped into place in her brain, “but now I have roots, purpose. I’m continuing something that will last.”

  “I thought if I came out here, romanced you a little maybe, you’d come back to the firm. We made some big deals together you know,” Ash finally admitted.

  “You thought you’d be able to convince me to come back to the firm.”

  “Yes, it didn’t hurt that we always had such good times together.” The man’s grin was more than suggestive.

  “I’m done with that life, Asher,” Phil said, a strange hollowness making her feel sad. Somehow as she’d transformed the Broken J, something had changed in her. “Go home, Ash,” she finished, turning and walking away.

  Chapter 15

  Leaving Ash confused and alone in the sod shack, his laughter had rankled. Phil had helped with renovating the small space, making it a tiny sanctuary off the beaten path. The newlyweds who had stayed here for the pioneer experience had left rave reviews on the experience.

  Phil scowled as she thought of the young couples, all smiles and joy, and her heart dropped as she thought of Chase.

  Everything had been so much simpler before she’d come to this place. She’d been good at her job, pulling in big contracts and pay way beyond what she could have expected at her age.

  At first it had been thrilling, wooing clients, traipsing around the big city with her colleagues. It had seemed fun, but now it seemed hollow, empty of meaning and joy.

  Moving around the side of the house, Phil smiled mechanically at guests meandering over the grounds or heading to various activities they’d signed up for.

  Ten minutes later, the owner and operator of the Broken J Dude Ranch found her way to the quiet barn, slipped quietly into a box stall and picked up a curry comb and brush.

  “What’s happening, Amy?” she queried, her question double edged.

  The dark horse eased toward her expecting a treat, but turned back to her rack of hay as the young woman began running a brush over her burnished hide.

  “Why are things so tangled up?” Phil continued, talking as much to herself as the horse. “I mean Chase is a good-looking man, but that’s nothing new. I’ve known lots of good-looking men.”

  The soft brush flicked across the horse’s smooth hide, making her twitch where it tickled. "You like him too, don’t you?” Phil continued, the soft even strokes of the brush and curry comb a soothing rhythm to her jangled nerves.

  “But what’s all this old-fashioned values stuff?” Phil hesitated, waving the brush in the air with one hand, while the other rested on the horse’s hip.

  Something strange prickled up Philomena’s spine, settling just between her shoulder blades. Hadn’t she just
admitted to how empty her life had been? Perhaps there was something to these old-fashioned values.

  Resuming the steady swish-swish of the brushes, Phil began to mentally compare the men she had known to Chase Haven.

  Most of the men she’d known in the past were driven, ambitious, successful. More interested in money than in making something that would last.

  Chase on the other hand was…what was he? “Amy,” she addressed the animal again, making the dark horse flick her ears, “what is he?”

  ***

  Kade pushed his big mule up to the front of the line, pulling astride Chase on his dark horse.

  “Chase?” the big man rumbled, “you got something on your mind?”

  “Huh?” Chase blinked, as if seeing his six foot four friend for the first time.

  “We’ve ridden past the old saw mill twice.”

  “Oh, sorry.” Chase ducked his head, trying to hide his shame.

  “Go home Chase, Kent and I can finish this ride. We’ll top them out on the rise so they can see the cows.”

  “Thanks, Kade,” Chase said simply, and turned his horse away from the string of placid horses plodding over the trail.

  With every bend or curve in the trail, his mind had turned back to Philomena Allen. He’d let his horse wander along the familiar paths, barely noticing the landscape as the others followed his lead.

  He chuckled. It wasn’t that he didn’t like thinking about the dark-haired beauty. Everything about her drew him - her spunk, her business smarts, her determination.

  Chase’s mount stopped at the edge of the ranch, bringing his rider back to the real world. With a chuckle, he patted the big roan’s neck and pushed the gelding to cross the sparkling stream. He and Romeo had been together a long time.

  His conscience prickling, Chase made his way to the barn and swung down as a bright red sports car spun down the drive and out onto the main road.

  Running his hand along his horse’s neck, he turned, heading into the barn, thoughts of his lady boss filling his head.

  The sound of movement in Amy’s stall drew Chase to the door. Worried that a guest had wandered into the barn, he moved quietly so he wouldn’t startle the horse.

  “It’s all very confusing, Amy.” Phil’s voice was soft. “He’s a good man, I can tell, but he doesn’t think like me.”

  Chase watched as Philomena leaned her head against the horse’s neck with a sigh.

  Sunlight streaming through a small window on the outer wall cast a soft glow on the dark horse’s mane where it met Phil’s deep mahogany tresses, picking out the maroons and reds with fingers of gold.

  “I think she likes you,” Chase spoke, running the reins he still held through his hands and making Phil jump.

  “How long have you been there?” she asked suspiciously. “And aren’t you supposed to be on the trail?”

  Chase pushed his hat back. “Kade sent me back, said my mind wasn’t on my work.”

  “Why’s that?” Phil’s tone was a mixture of confusion and irritation.

  “Seems having my head filled with a pretty girl doesn’t help you get the job done.”

  “I take it Randall was also on the ride?” Phil said, her tone settling a little.

  Chase nodded. “Yes, Kade was heading over the ridge to check on the cows and came along, but decided he’d be the better lead on the trail ride.”

  “Chase, you can’t be distracted when you’re with guests.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Chase teased, his eyes still downcast.

  Something in Phil’s troubled heart softened, and she moved to the door, laying her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I guess we’re both having an off day.”

  Chase met her violet gaze. “I suppose it happens to the best of us.”

  For a few moments, they stood in silence.

  “You’re a very confusing man,” Phil finally spoke, turning to study the man, the wood-handled brush dangling from her hand.

  “You’re a very pretty woman,” Chase replied, lifting a lock of her hair and twirling it on his finger. “It’s the same, you know.”

  “What’s the same?”

  “Your hair, it has that deep red hint when the sun hits it, just like Amy.”

  “Are you comparing me to a horse?” Phil felt her spirits lifting with the banter.

  “She’s a mighty fine horse.” A smile teased at the cowboy’s lips.

  “I don’t know if I should be insulted or thank you.” Phil leaned forward, wishing he’d kiss her again.

  “I’d take it as a complement.” Chase’s cobalt eyes met hers. “You’re a good person, Philomena.”

  “Apparently not good enough, though.” The harsh feelings of rejection rose once more in her chest.

  “It’s not about you. it’s about me.” Chase said. “We have to live our lives the best way we know how,” he offered with a shrug.

  Behind Chase, the horse he’d ridden in from the trail shifted and he turned to stroke the animal’s mane. “I’d better put him away,” he offered, turning and heading down the aisle, “but we can talk after.”

  Slipping from Amy’s stall, Phil placed the brushes in a caddy and headed for the sanctuary of the house.

  That night, Phil stayed in her room finishing up paperwork and sorting through emails and other correspondence. She knew she was only putting off the inevitable, but for now it was her decision to make.

  She’d even booked her room for the weekend with Michelle in September, but still she felt restless and out of sorts as she listened to the sounds of guests coming and going for supper, then evening activities of campfires or crafts provided by local artists.

  A gentle knock on the door had Phil peeking out to see Mrs. Wade holding a tray. “You’ll feel better with some food in you,” she offered, handing the tray off. “I’m headed home now. See you tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Wade,” Phil said, taking the tray and leaning in to kiss the older woman on the cheek. “I’m sure glad you joined us on the Broken J. Have a good night.”

  The older woman lifted a weathered hand, laying it across Phil’s cheek. “Whatever it is, dear, it will all come out in the wash,” she offered, her dark eyes kind.

  Phil closed the door and settled onto the stool by her desk to eat her meal. Her troubled mind turned thoughts the way she turned her food with a fork.

  Slinking around her ankles, Fred sniffed toward the plate.

  “You hungry?” she asked the cat, lifting a piece of chicken from her plate and tossing it to her constant companion.

  Devouring the tasty morsel, Fred sat back, licking his chops, a feline smile on his white maw.

  A soft chuckle escaped Phil and she turned back to her food. “Well if it’s that good, I’d better eat.”

  She tossed another tiny piece of chicken to the cat, then began to eat.

  The wee hours of the morning were cool even as the summer days were warm, and Phil woke with a chill to her overly tired shoulders.

  At least her feet were warm where Fred sprawled across them, oblivious to the troubles of the heart.

  She’d tried to sleep, tossing and turning for most of the night, only catching snatches of rest as the night wore on.

  Slipping her feet out from under the cat, who rolled over and stretched, she rose and switched on the lights, looking through the faded letters once more. Pulling one out, she began to read.

  For too many years I have lived with the conviction that money, wealth and power were all that mattered. That these three things could bring security, peace and happiness in a world of uncertainty. I have been mistaken.

  Dear Brother, I have tried to fill my life with possessions and important people, but what I deprived myself of was true love.

  I do not mean only the love of a devoted and caring man, but a love that brings a peace I could not have imagined.

  George has taught me to laugh again, but more than that, he’s reminded me that life has true meaning if we seek it.

  We have be
gun attending a small service each week and I now realize how truly lost and shallow I was. No matter how full my life was with dinners, parties, and expensive things, it was still empty.

  The letter from Jemma James was as confusing as everything else at the Broken J. Why had her success suddenly become so hollow?

  For that matter, why had everything Phil worked for become unfulfilling? The money was nice, when isn’t it, but pouring that cash into the aged ranch had felt like a new beginning for them both.

  “Could there really be more?” she asked, curling around Fred with another letter in her hand.

  Her great-great-great-grandfather had raised a family, built a home and business with nothing but hard work and friendship.

  “What are we building?” she scratched that cat’s ears, making him purr. “The ranch has started earning its own keep, so to speak. People seem to like the old-timey feel of it, but something’s still missing.”

  Again, she picked up another letter, turning it in her hands as she rolled onto her back and started to read.

  Several letters later and Phil had an even deeper understanding of the people who founded the ranch, but no more clear idea of what to do about her own heart.

  As dawn approached, she fell into a restless sleep.

  Chapter 16

  “You’re up earlier than usual,” Chase said as he stretched and reached for the coffee pot, ignoring the papers that Kade was slipping into his pocket.

  “Had a lot on my mind,” the big man answered sensibly. “Don’t see you lying about, either.”

  “Got a lot on my mind.” Chase let the words tumble into the room, smiling at Kade’s soft huff.

  “Guess we both have thinking to do,” Kade said. “You want to talk or go up to the house for breakfast?”

  Instead of answering, Chase pulled out a chair and settled at the table, coffee in hand.

  “Phil?” Kade asked, making the other man start.

  “How’d you know?”

  “I see things.” Kade smiled. “I’ve noticed how she looks at you and you look at her.”