High Country Homecoming

by Roxanne Rustand

  Or he could tell her the humiliating truth and reveal a weak part of himself that he’d refused to share with anyone else.

  “Well...have a good evening.” Chloe turned toward the trail leading up to the cabins.

  “Wait, Chloe. Please.” He tipped his head toward the house and its covered, wrap-around porch filled with a half dozen rockers, wooden chairs and a wide porch swing, all fitted with colorful cushions. “Can you join me for a minute?”

  She hesitated, then followed him up the steps and settled into a white wooden rocker.

  He took a chair facing hers, and Daisy sat next to him with her head in his lap. “It isn’t that this dog likes me best. I think she assumes I’m her job.”

  Chloe’s eyes flared wider. “What?”

  “Not in the guard dog or herding sense. I’ve been thinking about that old codger who had a service dog, and Daisy just has to be the one. The vet said he was a loner, and given his age, he had probably served in Vietnam. Maybe he dealt with PTSD, and she was trained as a therapy dog. Or maybe she learned by instinct. But she has definitely done it before.”

  “Ahhh. That makes sense. What a great dog! I suppose she was a wonderful...” her voice trailed off and her eyes filled with compassion as his words registered. “Oh.”

  “It’s ironic, really.” He looked beyond Chloe to the rugged, snowcapped mountains to the west. “I was encouraged to accept a service dog, but even the offer seemed humiliating and I refused. I figured it was a sign of weakness and that I should handle everything on my own. Here I was, a grown man. A big, tough Marine and all that. How could a dog possibly help?”

  She watched him, silently waiting for him to continue.

  He set his jaw. “I do fine these days, really. I don’t need anyone or anything to...”

  Apparently sensing his defensiveness and abrupt change of mood, Daisy nudged him.

  He looked down at her and recognized the automatic lie for what it was. Fear.

  Fear of failure, of loss, of measuring up. Everything that had been instilled in him since he was a kid on this ranch, and then exacerbated by the explosion that stole his military career.

  Even beyond that he’d already lost so much. The thought of facing the eventual loss of a beloved service dog was more than he’d dared to contemplate. So he’d refused the offer...and now he knew he’d made a mistake.

  “I am doing better,” he added after a long pause. “I rarely have flashbacks, and the nightmares don’t come as often. Though when they hit, the night is totally lost for any chance of sleep, and the next day I’m in a daze. Useless.”

  “And Daisy?”

  “She proved me wrong,” he said simply, resting a hand on her shoulders, her warmth and soft fur reassuring even now. “I made her a soft dog bed in the corner of the tack room the first night she was with me. When a nightmare hit, she crawled over and rested her head on my chest, as if she knew what to do. Her presence changed everything. I can’t explain it, really. A subconscious awareness of a protector, in case an enemy strikes? It doesn’t make sense, I suppose. There are no enemies here. But she seems to sense my agitation and then she comes over to lay right next to me. She thinks I’m her job. And...well, it helps.”

  “That’s wonderful, Dev.”

  He nodded. “With her in the room, I ended up sleeping better than I have in a long, long time. And last night too, once I got to sleep. I think I’ll move back to my cabin tonight and bring her with me, unless you want her with you now. She’s definitely housebroken, so you shouldn’t have any problems.”

  “I’m so glad to hear it’s working out well, Dev.” Chloe leaned forward and put her hand over his. “This will be just perfect. I think it was meant to be, and really, you are doing me a great favor.”

  “What?”

  “I felt so awful for her when she showed up at my door. There was nothing I wanted more than to help her. But I honestly don’t know where I’ll be living in Kansas City, and finding places that allow big dogs is almost impossible. I’m relieved to know she’ll have a good home with you.”

  He blinked. “Wait—”

  She gave him a cheery smile that seemed to wobble a bit at the edges as she stood. “I’ve got bread rising on the counter, so I’d better get back to my cabin. Have a great night. Both of you.”

  She’d seemed sad and wistful over Daisy, and he’d only wanted to reassure her that the dog was still hers. So where had the conversation gone off the rails? Had she just sacrificed a dog she wanted badly, just to make him happy?

  Knowing Chloe, that shouldn’t be a surprise.

  He watched her head up the trail to her cabin, then looked down at Daisy and cradled her broad head between his hands.

  “I’m not sure about what just happened, but we’ll get it figured out. One way or another, you’ve got yourself a forever home.”

  The wonderful aroma rising from the package of bread was so tempting that he rose and took it into the kitchen, with Daisy at his heels. “What do you think—should we give this a try?”

  The twins’ pup romped over to sit next to Daisy as soon as he cut a slice of the moist golden-brown loaf. “Second thoughts. I’m not sure about the nuts and white chocolate for dogs. I think you and your little buddy would be better off having a dog biscuit instead.”

  He tossed a biscuit to each of them, and then sampled a slice of the bread. He closed his eyes and savored another bite...and suddenly it was gone. “Wow. That gets an A+ from me. Easy review.”

  He pulled a folded sheet of paper—make that several sheets—from the plastic bag.

  Apparently he’d failed in his previous reviews of Chloe’s baking experiments, because this time she’d left nothing to chance. She’d typed up a list of twenty questions, complete with a numbered set of directions at the top.

  He scanned the questions and couldn’t help but laugh. He had no idea what even half of the technical baking terms meant.

  Only Chloe—with her endless determination and sweetly earnest enthusiasm—could come up with a veritable term paper for evaluating a loaf of bread.

  Chapter Twelve

  Chloe awoke the next morning to the sound of small fists beating on her cabin door and the sound of excited chatter.

  “We weren’t ’spose to come this early. Grandma Betty said so.”

  “Did not. She said at breakfast, and right now it’s breakfast time.”

  “She’s gonna be mad, and so is Uncle Jess. You wait and see.” A little voice harrumphed in displeasure. “And it will be all your fault!”

  This had to be the twins, Chloe thought as she reached for her robe and slippers and headed for the door.

  Sure enough, there were two kindergarten-size blondes on the step. “Good morning, girls. How are you?”

  Both of their mouths dropped open when they looked up at her, and then they looked at each other. “I told you we’d wake her up, Bella. She still has jammies on.”

  A young woman appeared on the path to the cabin, coming at a dead run, her long blond hair escaping a haphazard bun at her nape. She pulled to a breathless stop next to the girls and rested a firm hand on each of them.

  “I am so, so sorry. We got home late last night, and I told them to wait to come see you until later, but they snuck off. I’m afraid they’ve been very excited about a new person staying here.” She extended a hand. “I’m Abby Halliday, and you must be Chloe.”

  “Correct.” Chloe accepted her brief, warm handshake. “And really, the girls were no bother at all.”

  Abby gave her a wry smile. “Since we’re all here, let me introduce Bella and Sophie. And yes—they are identical, which can be a challenge at first. But now Sophie wants shorter hair, so that helps people who don’t see them often.”

  Chloe grinned down at the girls. “I’m delighted to meet you both.”

  Bella gave her a doubtf
ul look. “Grandma Betty said you have curly red hair.”

  “I did. But it got darker when I grew up,” Chloe said. “Did you know that I lived here when I was your age? My daddy worked on this ranch for five years. Then we moved away.”

  Bella nodded solemnly. “We came two Christmases ago. But we get to stay forever and ever ’cause we got ’dopted.”

  “Momma didn’t want us,” Sophie whispered, her eyes downcast.

  Abby drew in a sharp breath and briefly closed her eyes. “No, sweetheart. It wasn’t like that. She still loves you. But she can’t take care of you, so she wanted you to have a good, permanent home here with us. With ponies and puppies and people who also love you. Remember?”

  “Sounds like you two are very blessed.” Chloe smiled at the girls and then raised her gaze to meet Abby’s. “Can I invite you all in? I can make you breakfast, if you’d like.”

  “Actually, Betty hopes you’ll come down to the big house and join us all. She said she’ll have breakfast ready in an hour.” Abby grinned. “She said to tell you that she’s making your favorites—but she wouldn’t tell me what they are.”

  “I can’t even guess what she means, because everything she’s ever made was wonderful. I’ll be there.”

  “Excellent. Oh—and by the way, Dev told us that you’re busy with some projects. I promise I’ll try hard to make sure the twins won’t be a nuisance in the future.”

  “We just wanted to see if she had cookies.” Sophie’s rosebud mouth formed a pout and her big blue eyes shimmered. “Like Uncle Devlin told us about last night.”

  The girls were so adorable that Chloe wanted to hug them both and promise them the moon, just to see them smile. “No cookies yet this morning, I’m afraid. But when I make them, I promise to bring you some. What kind do you like best?”

  The girls exchanged looks.

  “Nooo raisins.” Bella made a face. “They’re yucky.”

  “And not dark ones.”

  “I believe Sophie means molasses cookies, though I’m sure they’ll be very polite and will appreciate anything you make, and won’t be particular. Right, girls?”

  They nodded, looking so crestfallen as Abby herded them toward the trail that Chloe could barely suppress a chuckle.

  Grandma Lydia had known her stuff when it came to grandkids and cookies, she remembered fondly.

  Wonderful sugar cookies with a heavy dusting of sparkly, colorful sugar on top. Fudgy chocolate crackle cookies. Tender, buttery shortbread wonders that melted in one’s mouth. And of course the cookies Devlin loved—chocolate chip, which could be made with M&M’s instead.

  Abby glanced at the clock as she went back inside. An hour was plenty of time to get at least one batch made. It never hurt to make a good first impression—even with little girls. And maybe with Devlin...

  She firmly dismissed the thought. He clearly wasn’t interested. Maybe he was still grieving the loss of his girlfriend, and maybe he always would. And even if he eventually healed, she definitely wasn’t interested. That last debacle in Minneapolis had cured her of taking foolish chances.

  So why did that sneaky little inner voice in her head keep insisting that she was wrong?

  * * *

  Chloe knocked on the back door of the main house an hour later, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

  She’d spent her life being wary about anyone who seemed to have a proclivity for drinking. But now it struck her that others might look at her and wonder the same thing. Would they think she was like her father?

  It had been eighteen years since she and Dad had packed up and left without so much as a goodbye. She’d never had any doubt as to why they had to leave—the same thing had happened at other ranches before and after their five years with the Langfords.

  But the lure of the bottle had always outweighed any responsibility to his family and job. And though Dad could hold his liquor and hide the truth surprisingly well, every ranch owner found out sooner or later and sent him packing. Just one of things she’d never been able to forgive, despite the words of the Lord’s Prayer she recited every night.

  But she hadn’t come here wanting to deal with her past or to insert herself into the lives of the people here. She’d simply looked forward to seeing Betty and Jess, and wanted a chance to work on her writing in peaceful isolation.

  Now she just had to get through this breakfast and be sociable to everyone who had come home last night. Then she could go back to her cabin, get to work and hope everyone would leave her in peace.

  She heard small footsteps racing across the kitchen to the door.

  “I can do it!”

  “No, me!”

  “Abbeeee!” one of the girls wailed. “Bella hit me.”

  “Manners, girls,” Abby said quietly as she opened the door wide and gave them a stern look. “Go wash up for breakfast. Now. And, Bella, you need to put on a clean shirt.”

  The twins raced out of the kitchen and Abby smiled at Chloe. “Come on in, if you dare. As you’ve already seen, the little hooligans are a little overexcited. They were up way past their bedtime last night and awoke too early.”

  Chloe walked inside and handed her a plastic-bag-covered paper plate filled with a towering dome of M&M’s cookies. “These are for...whenever. The bag isn’t sealed yet because they’re still a bit warm.”

  “Wow. They look and smell amazing.” Abby turned and hid them on top of the fridge. “I’ve already heard a lot about your cooking, and I can see Dev is right.”

  Devlin had already been talking about her? What on earth had he been saying? “Um...thanks. I think.”

  “Oh, it was all good, believe me. He says you’re an excellent cook. Feel free to stop by anytime you feel like sharing what you’ve baked.”

  Abby went to the stove to pull out a breakfast casserole and set it on a trivet, then pulled out a second pan of caramel-pecan cinnamon rolls.

  Abby studied the food arranged on the kitchen counter. “We’ve got orange rolls, mixed fresh fruit, a platter of crispy hash brown patties, juice, coffee and...hmm. Oh, yes, maple sausage.”

  “Wow. This is enough for an army.” Chloe looked around the room. “Where’s Betty? Isn’t she here?”

  “She was up early and insisted on making everything. Then she went to lie down for a while because her hip was aching. She’s improved a lot since her hip replacement in November, but the long drive home yesterday didn’t do her much good, I’m afraid.”

  Betty’s hair had been silver years ago, so how old was she now? Chloe felt a little catch in her heart, wishing she’d come for visits through the years. “Is she in good health?”

  “Oh, my.” Abby laughed. “Very much so. She turned seventy-eight last month and don’t even think of referring to her as elderly, or she’ll be highly offended. In fact we had a little incident here with a hired hand, late last fall. She grabbed her rifle and helped me subdue him until Jess and a deputy arrived. It was like seeing a five-foot John Wayne in a pink housecoat.”

  Chloe grinned. “Sounds like she hasn’t changed a bit.”

  “Still tough as shoe leather, and planning to live till I’m 110,” Betty chortled as she limped through the kitchen doorway. She beamed at Chloe as she moved forward to envelop her in a long, grandmotherly hug, then stepped back to look at her, head to toe. “My goodness, you’ve grown into such a beautiful young lady! I can’t believe my eyes. It’s wonderful to see you again.”

  Jess and Devlin came in through the back door with Daisy at their heels, hung their Stetsons on the nearby rack and shucked off their boots.

  Devlin tipped his head in a silent greeting to Chloe, but Jess strode across the kitchen to give her a hug. “Good to see you again, kid. I hope you had a good trip and didn’t have any trouble with my brother while we were gone. He can be mighty surly.”

  Both brothers were tall, wit
h near-black hair and beautiful silver-blue eyes, framed by long, thick lashes any woman would envy. But in Jess, she could see what Devlin might look like without the emotional and physical ravages of war. Her heart wrenched. “He...he was most kind.”

  “Dev? Kind?” Jess shot a look of amazement at his brother and gave him a playful nudge with his elbow. “That’d be a first.”

  “Boys,” Betty said without heat. “Get washed up so we can say grace.”

  The twins quickly vied for the chairs on either side of Devlin and looked up at him with adoring eyes.

  He grinned down at them and whispered something that made them laugh. Then Bella wiggled in her chair and knocked her plastic cup over, sending milk flying all over her pink T-shirt and Devlin’s lap.

  Her eyes instantly filled with tears and her lower lip trembled. “Sorry, Uncle Devlin. I-I didn’t mean to.”

  “It was my fault, sweetie. No big deal.” He curved an arm around her thin shoulders for a quick, reassuring hug. “Only the Wicked Witch has trouble with getting wet. We’ll dry.”

  Chloe stared at him, surprised. He’d been career military until his accident and had no kids as far as she knew. So when had he become so adept at calming a child? Her heart warmed at his gentleness—another surprising layer to the man who had grown and matured into someone she barely knew.

  Once everyone was sitting around the long oak table in the kitchen, Betty swung her stern gaze around the table, landing on Devlin until he joined hands with the rest of them.

  “Dear Lord, we thank you for our many blessings. For bringing Devlin safely home to us from his military service, for bringing Chloe to us once again. Thank you for watching over us throughout our travels and for enriching our lives as we come together as family once more. We ask that you watch over Tate and keep him safe, and bless Jess and Abby as they begin their wedding plans. And, Lord, watch over our girls as they finish their last two months in kindergarten. Finally, thank you for your bounty and this meal before us. Amen.”

  Following a chorus of amens, everyone began passing around the bowls and platters of food, while Abby brought a coffeepot and pitcher of juice to the table and began to pour.