Follow a Wild Heart: A Christian Contemporary Western Romance Series

by Natalie Bright

  “Tell me everything you can.” Carli slid into a cowhide cushioned barstool and watched him intently. He took his time and looked around the kitchen, every detail, every dish behind the paned-glass cabinet, every picture on the wall. He chuckled. “I remember this.”

  Nathan removed a framed 8x10 photo from the nail and looked at it closer. “That’s me.” He pointed.

  Carli squinted to see a little kid, all legs and a face in the shadows under a wide cowboy hat, hanging on the fence rail at a rodeo. Instead of staying behind the fence like everyone else, he was inside the arena. A crowd behind him bulged in the stands.

  “That’s your Grandpa Ward on the bronc. Somebody dared him to ride it, and darned if he didn’t make it the eight seconds. He was a tough old coot. Your Grandma Jean met him at the gate, and she gave him an earful. I thought she was going to punch him. I’d never heard her cuss before that day.” Nathan burst into a deep, belly laugh that echoed through the quiet house.

  “I wish I could have known them.” Carli wanted to hear stories, but she had to control her emotions too. Every time she learned something new about her grandparents, it added to her sadness and feeling of isolation as the resentment towards her mother grew.

  “Go on.” She smiled, trying to hide the conflicting emotions that raged inside.

  “I like telling you about them, but I’m not one to stay buried in the past, Carli. Just the fact you’re carrying on the legacy they left at the Wild Cow is a huge thing. You’re here now and we need to make our own memories.”

  “It doesn’t seem that big a deal. Which is why I want to talk to you about another idea I have.” Nathan returned the picture to the nail. Carli followed him into the kitchen and watched as he dug around in the refrigerator. “You’ve got eggs, but no bacon. How about breakfast for dinner?”

  “There’s bacon over at the cookhouse and pancake mix too. Sounds like a good plan to me.”

  Chatting and laughing at more bronc stories involving her Grandpa Ward, they walked to the ranch cookhouse and found what they needed. It was nice being with Nathan. He always seemed so kind, willing to help with anything Carli needed. She felt safe with him, plus he was a good listener. But with Lank she felt exhilarated like her skin tingled and she was fully alive. He was so irritating at times. Why did she keep comparing them?

  She remembered Lola had once told her how God intended humans to feel—living their dreams, enjoying life to the fullest, being everything He designed them to be, all for His glory ultimately. Lola and Buck had taught her so much. She was maturing in her faith, but she still was uncertain about who she was and why she was here in Texas. Why her young life had been such a mess and why her parents had abandoned her. There were so many unanswered questions.

  As they walked back across the compound towards her house, Lank drifted into her mind again. She wondered what he was doing this evening. Secretly, she wished he was the one walking beside her now. There I go again. Always wishing for something I’ll never have. Parents. Grandparents. Her old equine business in Georgia. She really missed the young girls she had been tutoring. She pushed the past from her mind and tried to focus on the here and now.

  Nathan found several cast-iron skillets and set them on the cooktop with a clang. “If you’ll get the coffee going, I can handle the rest.”

  “It’s a deal, since I was the one who invited you over. I didn’t mean for you to have to work for your supper.” They both chuckled.

  “Now tell me. How are the riding lessons coming along? Any clients yet?” asked Nathan as he lay bacon slices into a pan.

  “Have you ever heard the term ‘at-risk kids’?” Carli found the coffee beans and filled the grinder.

  “Fresh ground?” Nathan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

  “Yep. I’m a coffee snob.” She tilted her chin and gave him a wide grin and then opened the package and took in a deep breath. One of the best smells in the world. “Belinda has been coaching me.”

  “Belinda and Russell sure know how to roast some coffee berries for sure.” Waiting until the grinder shut off, Nathan answered. “I’ve never worked with kids like that, but I’ve heard the term. Mainly used in schools, right?”

  Carli returned to her barstool and watched Nathan crack eggs into a bowl. “Peppers and onions?” he asked. “Hopefully, you have some.”

  She paused for a moment to admire the starched Wrangler jeans, green paisley Western shirt, and polished boots that stood in her kitchen. But he didn’t make her heart skip a beat like the grubby, infuriating cowhand who worked for her. She cleared her throat and found what he needed. “These are kids who have all the odds stacked against them. I’ve been thinking about how we can make a difference in their lives. I’m not a professional counselor, but from what I’ve read sometimes these kids need a distraction. They just need a piece of normal.”

  Nathan flipped over the bacon, walked closer, and put his hands on hers. “You were abandoned, weren’t you?”

  Carli felt tears bubble up in her eyes and she swallowed the lump in her throat. The question never bothered her before but being here on this ranch and knowing she had real flesh and blood grandparents who searched for her made her feel even more abandoned. So stupid it brought such emotion still. She was an adult, for gosh sakes.

  “Yes, my mother Michelle had a long, troubled past and, consequently, so do I. Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t abused or anything like that. The people who raised me were loving and kind, but they were older. Closer to the age of grandparents so I was basically on my own from the time I could drive. I never even knew any of their family. They were somewhat reclusive. But they willingly funded whatever I wanted to do, and that happened to be anything relating to horses.”

  “You showed horses?”

  “Yes, hunter-jumper classes. Really, it was All Around. Western Pleasure. Horsemanship. We did everything. Except for driving a cart. I haven’t learned that. Yet.”

  Nathan laughed. “That’s one of the things I admire about you. Always willing to tackle something new. I saw you can ride. You have real skills.” Nathan opened and shut several cabinet doors. “Plates?”

  “I’ll get them. Are we dining formal this evening or kitchen?”

  They looked at each other for a minute, and at the same time said, “Kitchen.” Carli smiled. She set up the bar with plates and silverware. “Cream or sugar?” she asked.

  “Just black.”

  Carli poured their coffees into the largest mugs she could find. Nathan turned from the stove and scraped a heap of scrambled eggs onto her plate.

  “Flapjacks coming up. Find the butter, would ya, please?”

  Carli buttered the hot cakes right as they came off the griddle. She found syrup in the pantry.

  They pulled their stools up to the bar and dug in. Best looking dinner she’d ever seen. Between mouthfuls of pancake, she said, “These kids need help right now. I think I can make a difference.”

  As they ate, Carli talked to Nathan about what she knew about programs using horses to help kids. She had spent the afternoon researching and learning as much as she could. A facility in Oklahoma had a wonderful program. Carli ordered books written by the founder and planned to send a donation and buy their annual calendar.

  The stories were so touching, but tragic.

  “Some of the kids are abused or abandoned and come to the ranch in a broken, non-communicative state. One facility I read about also rescues horses so sometimes the animals are in just as bad of shape as the kids. Somehow, miraculously, a child and horse end up helping each other heal. Most are faith-based operations.”

  “That makes sense,” said Nathan. “It’s obvious God would be involved in some of the seemingly impossible stories.”

  “Even some of the founders have their own tragedies to deal with, which led them to open their doors to others.” Carli refilled the coffee mugs. “I read about a lady whose parents had died tragically when she was just a girl. Her faith in God and love for a horse sa
ved her from being destroyed by the loss. When she married, she and her husband were so broke financially but managed to buy a barren piece of land no one else wanted. Their home and program started there. Beaten and broken horses were rescued from the hands of their abusers, and eventually, at-risk children began to interact with the horses. God blessed the founders’ efforts and the land and program flourished. He brought beauty out of ashes.”

  “That's in the Bible, you know. Beauty out of ashes. It's in Isaiah 61."

  "Yes, I learned it from Lola. I'm going to have to study the whole chapter." Carli stared at him and thought he was a good guy.

  Nathan continued. "So, how many kids would you have in the program?”

  “We’d have to start off small. The problem will be finding horses suitable for this kind of outreach.”

  “I can definitely help with that. I’ll get the word out and be on the lookout. I can also help with training. Whatever you need, Carli. Count the Rafter O all in with whatever you want to do.” Nathan pointed to the last piece of bacon and, when Carli shook her head, he polished it off. “Are you wanting to get into the rescue horse business too?”

  “I don’t know about that yet. Seems like a lot to manage. I need to do more research. Of course, if we hear about an abuse or neglect problem in our area, we can certainly help. But I think my main focus right now should be on the kids. I really miss my coaching business.”

  “This all started because of that girl in the coffee shop with the muffin, didn’t it? What was her name? Do you think abuse is a factor in her life?”

  “Lexi? I really don’t know what her story is. Anger for some reason. Or teenage angst. I’m no shrink, but she came out to ride with me. I forgot to tell you. She sure loves horses.”

  “Have I ever mentioned how much I admire you?” Nathan carried their dirty plates to the sink. Carli watched him in surprise, frozen to her seat, and didn’t even stand up to lend a hand.

  He didn’t turn to face her but instead filled the sink with sudsy water. “You gave up everything you had known to move here. That took some guts. I’ve lived here my whole life and I can’t even imagine what that must be like. A stranger in a strange place. You fit in like you’ve been here forever.”

  “It wasn’t that big of a deal. Once I made my mind up, there was no turning back. I tend to be like that. It takes me forever to decide, but once I stop doubting, I just bulldoze ahead. But look at you. Your destiny is decided. What a beautiful life and family. You have no decisions to make.”

  Nathan let out a heavy sigh, his head bent over the sink as he washed their plates. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life running our ranch.” He froze at his task and stood silent for a minute. “I can’t believe I told you that. I’ve never said it out loud to anyone.”

  Carli walked over to the sink and stood behind him. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “What do you want, Nate?”

  “I want to be an artist.”

  “What kind of artist?”

  “Everything. Working with metal, bronze, sculpting. I also like to draw and paint. But mostly I'm obsessed with learning about bronze sculptures. There, I said it. That's what I want to do.”

  “You should follow your dreams, Nate. If that’s your passion, go for it.”

  “I wish someone would tell my dad that.” He turned to look down into her eyes. “Are you following your dreams?”

  Carli’s heart fluttered as he leaned his face closer. She could tell he wanted to kiss her by the fire in his eyes. Yes. But no. How could this be the right thing when her heart said no? But she was drawn to him. At the last minute he pulled away.

  “It’s getting late. I should go.”

  Stunned out of the moment, it took Carli a while to still her heart and then to realize he already had his hat on. She followed him to the front door and clicked on the porch light. “Thanks for cooking dinner. It was fun. And thanks for listening.”

  “Any time, Carli. Are we still on for the art gallery opening? I’ll call you.” He walked halfway down the sidewalk, but suddenly turned. He stopped at the bottom step and, at eye level, looked intensely into her eyes. With no hesitation he kissed her. Soft at first, and then the second time firm and deep.

  “I hope that’s a new memory for you.” He turned and strode to his truck. The only response she could manage was a wave at his taillights as he drove away.

  Glancing up, she looked across the compound and saw the silhouette of a cowboy standing in the light of the saddle house door. Motionless and still, he didn’t move from his spot. Carli stared back, watching Lank watching her.

  Stupid men. Always making things so darn complicated. She spun on a heel and slammed the front door behind her.

  Chapter Nine

  At her desk in the back den of her grandparents’ house Carli wrestled with names for her riding school. The business she had in Georgia, with her partner Mark, had been named for the road where it was located. Seemed like a lifetime ago, but in reality, just less than a year. Her life was so different now. In Georgia she had to work part-time for a realtor in order to pay her bills and spent every spare minute on the horse show circuit and training a few clients—high school girls. It was a daily struggle, a delicate balance, like juggling the puzzle pieces of her life, working so hard to stay afloat financially while chasing her passion for horses, but always feeling like something was missing.

  Back in Georgia, she didn’t have much of a social life or any close friends to speak of. And her cell phone now in Texas certainly wasn’t blowing up from the acquaintances she had left behind. She always heard, “out of sight, out of mind” and now understood how people moved on with their own lives. The show competition had been rigid, and meaningful relationships on the circuit were hard to develop. Any kind of travel was always horse show related.

  Carli often thought of her old life though. Georgia was green and beautiful, mountainous in some areas. Texas was dry and flat, yet a different kind of breathtaking emptiness with an endless sky that reminded her of an awesome Creator. Interesting that every day she was feeling more and more like this place was her true home.

  She had found her family, where she belonged, but was still unsure about her purpose. Buck told her that God has a plan for everyone, but we need patience because He works by His timing, not ours. She had stopped questioning if she had made the right decision to move to Texas and live on the Wild Cow. There was no going back now. She left her life in Georgia behind. As Carli remembered, she wondered if maybe the struggles she had faced were hints from above of what was waiting for her, like a nudging whisper telling her she should move on.

  In just a few short months she learned to love this place, the ranch of her ancestors, but she still felt there was something else she should be doing. Working with young riders again might fill the void, and she needed an eye-catching name that would attract students but also have special meaning. She didn’t want to use the Wild Cow Ranch, although that name was well known around the area. The riding program would be separate from the cattle operation.

  She dug around in a cabinet, looking for her yellow notepad. Nothing in the old file cabinet but old utility bills. Where had she put that pad? The ideas were coming fast into her brain, so she scribbled riding school names on the backs of invoices dated from ten years ago: Safe Haven, Horse Haven, Hope Horses, Dream Catchers. Should she use the word “horse” in the name and logo?

  What did she like about riding horses? So many things—the freedom, solitude, it was almost like flying. The responsibility of taking care of another living creature, and the sense of accomplishment at mastering the partnership with a thousand-pound animal. Trust. And just the sheer love and bond between rider and horse. That’s what she wanted the kids to experience. In addition to feeling safe as if in their own clubhouse, even if only temporarily for an hour or two, she wanted them to feel love and joy and to learn about horses and riding. That was it! LoveJoy Horseback Riding School.

  After researching
other riding programs in the state, she was glad to notice there were none in her immediate area. Next, she set up a Facebook public page with details about prices and times. She spent way too long fiddling with a logo, but it was fun work. Next, she designed a simple flyer to leave with Belinda at the coffee shop and ordered a box of business cards. Also set a regular day and time so that everyone, from volunteers to parents, could mark their calendars. The first Saturday of April seemed like a good date to start. In Georgia this time of year, there could be sporadic showers. She thought of the expression, “April showers bring May flowers.” She wasn’t sure about Texas spring rains, but if the weather was bad, the kids could brush horses and learn how to put halters on inside the barn. Excitement urged her onward. She couldn’t wait for the program to start. She had a few short weeks to get ready.

  Carli thought long and hard about ages. Should she offer it to smaller kids as well? Teens and tweens were the group that most sparked her interest, probably because that had been such a tumultuous time for her. She decided on ages between twelve and sixteen, and really didn’t want to deal with older kids. With the riding school naming and other details off her list, she turned to the genealogy website.

  Thousands of Taylor Millers in the state of Texas. It sounded kind of crazy to Carli. But she had to start somewhere.

  Carli saw that some searches even produced photos. What would it feel like if she recognized facial features similar to her own? Everyone kept telling her how much she looked like her mother, Michelle, but surely, she had some things from her dad too? It was rather strange to imagine coming face to face with the man who gave her life. For some reason, she just knew he was alive. But where? Did he still live in Texas? Or did he leave a long time ago? He could be anywhere.

  She’d been at it all morning, as was her habit lately, before the day got away from her. Late at night her brain was too tired for research, but his name never left her head. Right now, she needed a fresh pot of coffee. Just as she finished setting it up, a knock at the door resulted in Lola’s familiar voice.