The Cowboy’s Return

by Aarsen, Carolyne

  The Cowboy’s Return

  Carolyne Aarsen

  Contents

  Reader Group

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Reader Group

  Other Series

  Reader Group

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  Chapter 1

  He was coming home.

  After three tours, long months of tension, pain and disappointment, healing and hurt, Lucas Groves’ life as a soldier was over.

  Now he had come full circle, back to Rockyview, the place he left as a young recruit full of dreams and plans, returning as a disillusioned ex-soldier.

  He made the last turn off the road onto the driveway lined with poplar and aspen trees, a few yellow, gold and orange leaves still clinging to the now-bare branches. It was the end of November and Rockyview County was still waiting for winter. The snow hadn’t arrived yet, late for a place so close to the mountains. But it would come.

  He sighed as he followed the gentle curve of the road, leftover leaves fluttering down from the trees onto his Jeep like small welcome-home gifts.

  Coming here was a way to give himself some closure. Some space. A time for reflection.

  Time to make a decision about this place he had inherited and the ranch land connected to it.

  He and his parents had only lived on this yard, in this house, for a year before his life was torn apart. The place held few happy memories, but it had been legally his since he turned twenty-five. This was the stipulation his parents had put in their will, never thinking they would leave behind a nine-year-old when the kayak they were in tipped and trapped them, drowning them both. Thinking they would be around for all the events of his life, grade school, high school, graduation.

  Lucas tossed off the old, worn memories. That was many years ago, and since his parents died, his foster father, Zach, rented the land. Lucas had put the house with its granny suite in the hands of a property manager who took care of the renters and managed the finances.

  As a result, Lucas had a healthy nest egg, a valuable ranch he was contemplating selling so he could move on to the next part of his life.

  Which was?

  Again, he pulled himself back to the present. There was no rush to decide right now.

  As he made the final turn, he crested a hill and slowed a moment, allowing himself a smile as he looked at the ranch-style house spread along a copse of trees, a creek flowing beside it. From there his eyes drifted upward to the mountains standing sentinel over the small ranch.

  The Rockies had been there for thousands of years; they would be there long after he died, watching over this country and the changes that tiny humans created.

  He stopped, hands resting on the steering wheel as he let the sight of those rugged peaks fill his soul. The five-day drive here had shown him much of the beauty of this country. He drove through thick forests, lakes, and the rocks of the Canadian Shield. Then the prairies with their vast sweep and a horizon that seemed to fall below the road. But as soon as he saw that faint blue ridge ahead, he couldn’t drive fast enough. Couldn’t get to this valley quick enough.

  All those years sweating it out in full battle rattle as he worked with Iraqi security forces on tactical missions, dodging bullets from the Daesh, dust swirling up from Griffons, memories of the mountains would ground him.

  When things got too hard, his mind sifted back through his memories. Horseback riding with Elliot, Kane, and Tricia up in the cool mountain air. Baling hay, moving cattle.

  He even scavenged through his winter memories when the heat was especially unbearable. Snowboarding with his buddies on the local ski hill, a sport disdained by his uber cowboy brothers. Taking the sleds up into the hills, snow spraying out from the tracks, risking frostbite as they tore through mountain valleys and along frozen creeks.

  Now, through no choice of his, he was back.

  He reached up to his face, letting his fingers play along the scar that ran from the corner of one eye to his ear. The injury that caused his medical discharge. Limited vision in that eye had become his one-way ticket out of the forces and out of the army. He could have fought it. Pushed for a desk job, but he was soldiered out. The dream that had pulled him through basic training, a tour in the Ukraine then two in Iraq, had sucked the life out of him. His counselor told him he’d been lucky to avoid, so far, the extreme end of PTSD. The bad dreams were subsiding, the memories shifting.

  He knew it would be years before he could put his war experiences in their proper place in his life. He’d always been thankful for the faith instilled in him by Grace and Zach Tye. The quiet trust in a God who knew who Lucas was and, in all the mess of the world, knew where he was.

  Curbing the memories that could still hold him hostage, Lucas put the Jeep into gear and cruised down the hill to the house.

  Two cars were parked on the gravel pad by the garage. He assumed one belonged to his grandmother, the other probably to a visiting friend. A year ago the people who had been renting the house moved out and his grandmother had emailed him in Iraq asking if she could move back to Rockyview and back into her old home.

  Despite the lack of a strong connection between them, he felt he couldn't say no to his maternal grandmother, so now Glenda was staying here. And he had found out from conversations with Zach that she’d recently had hip surgery and was recuperating. Glenda had hired a private nurse to care for her, so that responsibility wouldn’t fall on Lucas.

  Not that he would have taken it on. He and Glenda had a complex and distrustful relationship. He had limited expectations from the woman who hadn’t wanted to take care of her orphaned grandson. A birthday card and a cheque every year, a text message even less often and, when he was in the hospital, a phone call.

  Thankfully, Glenda had her own separate apartment—the granny suite—containing a small kitchen, dining area, living room, and bedroom and her own entrance.

  Lucas assumed that was where she was staying, which left the larger part of the house for him.

  He parked his truck beside the cars and, as he got out, he paused, listening to the utter quiet that pressed in on him, almost creating a pressure on ears assaulted by the steady noise of his vehicle and, before that, every city he’d visited.

  He’d forgotten the complete stillness of this place. Though it was merely a stopover, he knew being here would help him on the final stages of healing, of moving into a new part of his life.

  A faint breeze sifted through the trees, sending another shower of colored leaves, carrying with it the earthy smell of fall. He breathed it in, letting the familiar damp-earth scent blended with dying apples from the trees behind the house settle into his soul, creating the usual feeling of melancholy that this season brought out.

  Though it was the end of November, there was still no snow on the ground. Unusual for this place nestled so close to the mountains. Which probably gave Kane, Zach, and Elliot lots of time to get the hay hauled home and bring the cows down from the upper pastures, safely corralling them in the huge yards on Tall Timber Ranch.

  Tomorrow, he promised himself. Tomorrow he would head
over to the ranch and share a meal. Catch up. Spend some time in his other home.

  But for now, despite his scattered relationship with his grandmother, he figured he better say hello and at least get settled in.

  He grabbed the duffel bag he’d been using the past few months from the back of the Jeep.

  Slinging it over his shoulder, he strode toward the private entrance of the suite and rapped on the door before realizing his mistake.

  Of course Glenda wouldn’t come to the door; she was recuperating from hip surgery. But when he tried the handle, it was locked.

  His grandmother was probably staying in the main house.

  He strode to the other entrance, rustling up a few dead leaves that had fluttered from the whispering trees above. The flower beds flanking the sidewalk had been raked and the shrubs crowding the bay window of the living room had been trimmed in preparation for the snow.

  Glenda had clearly been taking care of the place before her surgery. She had been staying here the past year, longing, she had told the property manager who took care of the arrangements, that she wanted to return to Rockyview.

  Lucas pushed open the large front door—no need to knock here—tossing his bag on the floor of the tiled entrance. As he did, a memory slithered into his mind. His mother’s voice calling out to him to slow down, his father’s laughter.

  And right behind it a flash of light, the sound of gunfire.

  The disconnect was disorienting, and he stopped himself, releasing the memories of the past few years. Then he slowly breathed in and out, centering himself.

  Praying.

  His counselor told him the aftereffects would ease with time and deliberation and to remind himself he was safe now. Another breath and a reminder that he was home.

  “Glenda, are you here?” He glanced into the living room to the left, but that space only held the furniture leftover from his parents. The sight was like a gentle touch to an old bruise. A melancholy pain that didn’t hurt as much as it had the first time he’d seen it after his parents’ death. His grandmother, who had been living next door, hadn’t bothered to get it cleared out, and the people renting the house were happy enough to have furniture supplied.

  The beat of footsteps on the hardwood floor caught his attention as he entered the family room to the right of the main entrance. He doubted the quick, light steps belonged to his grandmother. Probably the nurse she said she had hired.

  And as he came face to face with a petite woman, her light brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and her large gray eyes staring at him with confusion, icy fingers clenched his heart.

  “What are you… How…” he couldn’t get the words out as he stared at Summer Auger, the one woman who could still make his heart beat faster. The one woman who had held his heart then tossed it aside.

  At one time they were supposed to be married and living in this house.

  And now she was staying here.

  And she was pregnant.

  * * *

  Summer knew he was coming. Glenda had warned her that Lucas had cut short his travels and was on his way here. She thought she had mentally prepared herself for his arrival.

  However, seeing him real and solid, filling the room with his presence and vitality, resurrected a dormant anxiety that now gripped her stomach with sharp claws, giving a brutal twist.

  “Hi,” was all she managed as she took in the changes the years had wrought.

  Lucas was as tall as before but now he was filled out, looking like he had conquered life. His skin, tanned from the desert sun, highlighted his aqua eyes fanned by pale wrinkles. Whiskers stubbled his strong, defined chin. His hair was shorter than before but still brushed the collar of his worn denim jacket.

  He looked in control, in charge, and even more handsome than before.

  But it was the scar that slashed one side of his face from the corner of his eye to below his ear that showed her more than anything else what sacrifices Lucas had made when he left the safety of country life for the tangled torment of war.

  “Hey, yourself,” Lucas returned, his deep voice holding a bite of anger. “I wasn’t… I didn’t know…”

  His eyes flicked downward to her stomach and the baby nestled inside, then over to her ringless hand, those same eyes narrowing.

  Yes, I’m a single mother, she wanted to say but knew that sounded defensive. And she didn’t want to venture toward that topic with him.

  “I’m taking care of your grandmother,” she put in before he could wonder what she was doing here. “I’m her private nurse.”

  “You are?”

  His heavy emphasis on the first word and the incredulous tone in his voice made her heart sink. This would not be an easy gig.

  He wasn’t expected to be here until it was over.

  Summer reminded herself of how hard it had been to find any kind of temp nursing job in Rockyview in her situation. It was only thanks to a few older connections she’d maintained that she got this one. And she needed to work. To keep busy. To keep her mind off of—

  “So where is Glenda? How is she doing?” Lucas asked.

  Summer clasped her hands behind her back then brought them forward again, realizing her stance emphasized her pregnancy.

  Don’t blush. Don’t show shame. This is not your fault.

  But it was hard not to feel self-conscious about her situation in front of the man she once said she would marry. The man she walked away from, breaking her own heart and, she was sure, his.

  You had your reasons.

  Did you?

  The old haunting questions swirled through her mind, and she forced them back into the deep past.

  “She’s sleeping.” Her voice cracked with anxiety. She cleared her throat and lifted her chin, forcing herself to hold Lucas’s piercing gaze. “She had a busy morning, so she’s tired. But overall she’s recuperating well.”

  Lucas’s eyes flicked past her to the dining room and the kitchen beyond that.

  “I take it she’s staying here, in the main house?”

  “It was easier for her. More space. Of course, we didn’t expect you to come…” Her voice trailed off as she struggled with her veering emotions. Seeing Lucas again had activated an old fault line in her self-control; one that was growing with each moment he stood in front of her.

  She had thought she was over him and had dealt with the old emotions. Clearly she was fooling herself.

  “…until January,” he finished for her. “But my buddy bailed on our trip, which was just as well. I got tired of traveling after they discharged me from the hospital and the armed forces.”

  “I’m sorry about both,” she said, her voice quiet, realizing how inadequate the words sounded.

  “Thanks. It’s been…an adjustment.”

  She imagined it was a lot more than that. All Lucas had ever wanted was to follow in his deceased father’s footsteps. Be a soldier. Now that he was medically discharged she wondered what he would do with his life.

  Suddenly she realized she’d left him standing in the entrance after who knows how long a journey for him.

  “I’m so sorry, do you want some coffee? Something to eat?”

  He shook his head, and to her shame she felt a rush of relief. How was she supposed to make small talk with this man over coffee and cookies? A man who had once held her heart in those large, capable hands? A man she still dreamed of far too often.

  But then Glenda called from the bedroom just down the hall from the kitchen.

  “I better go see what she wants,” Summer said, taking a hesitant step away from Lucas, wishing she could run out the back door, down the path to the creek and keep running, putting as much distance between them as possible.

  He wasn’t supposed to be here, she repeated to herself.

  Instead, she gave him a careful smile, turned, and forced herself to walk slowly toward the bedroom. Before she ducked into the hallway she glanced back, only to see him still watching her, his eyes wary, hooded.
r />   Dangerous.

  Chapter 2

  Why hadn’t anyone warned him?

  Lucas fisted his hands, his nails digging into his palms as he sucked in a breath, then another, struggling to regain control of his runaway thoughts.

  He thought he was over Summer. Thought not seeing her would erase the pain of any memory of her.

  Seeing her pregnant was like having the wind knocked out of him. Snuffed out even the tiniest ember of hope he might have nurtured in even the smallest corner of his mind. She now belonged to someone else, though her ringless hand had given him pause.

  Of course, he could blame his disorientation on the re-entry his counselor had warned him would be difficult.

  “You’ve changed because of what you’ve seen, but the people at home haven’t.”

  And this was the main reason he had driven directly past Tall Timber Ranch. He wanted to save that visit for after he got his most difficult visit out of the way.

  That difficult visit was supposed to be with his estranged grandmother. Not the woman who had broken his heart.

  While he was still orienting himself, Summer was back, hovering just past the hallway, backlit by the light coming from the bay window of the dining room.

  “Your grandmother is awake and would like to see you,” she said, her hands folded over the bump of her stomach.

  Her voice was as quiet, throaty as ever. Sultry, Elliot had always remarked whenever he was in a teasing mood.

  But no matter how Summer worded it or how she lowered the pitch of her voice, her comment still felt like a summons.

  “Okay,” was all he could manage past all the questions spinning through his head.