by Jillian Hart
“Oh, no.” Autumn peered out the window. “Martha Wisener is coming. Out of my truck right now or we’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Good idea. I’d better go see if my brother has messed up my radio stations.” He opened the door and hopped to the ground. Snow went up past his ankles.
“Wait. I didn’t get to hear about your long, sad string of rejections.”
“There’s always tomorrow.” He couldn’t wait as he closed the door. A whole new life was opening before him, and he felt Heaven shining as he watched Autumn drive away.
Chapter Twelve
The house was quiet with everyone gone. Autumn plunked the truck keys on the shelf by the back door, hung up her coat and stepped out of her high heels. Boy, she was glad she didn’t have to wear those every day. She grabbed them by the straps and padded through the empty kitchen. A glow from the living room distracted her. She stuck her head around the corner.
Her dad was sitting there all by himself. The TV was off. Only one lamp was on. He stared at the closed window blind as if he didn’t see anything at all. He’d changed out of his tux and looked more like a working rancher in a gray T-shirt and Levis. Something wasn’t right. Frank Granger was not a quiet man or a contemplative one.
“Dad? Are you all right?” She padded across the plush carpet. The long hem of her dress shivered around her ankles. She grew more concerned when he startled just a bit, as if he’d been truly lost in thought. It had been a big day. Things were going to be different with Justin married. He and Rori had built a house on the nearby quarter section of land. Her big brother wouldn’t be pounding through the house on a daily basis, stealing her cookies or taking charge of the remote when she was watching TV. Was Dad feeling the same way?
“Just thinking is all.” He seemed tired, as if watching his son marry and the last string of nights on cattle watch had taken their toll. Keeping a round-the-clock vigil on the livestock wasn’t easy on the hired staff or on him. “Got a moment?”
“Are you going to bring up the new sheriff?” She hadn’t been born yesterday. She knew how her father’s mind worked.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to. Come sit with me.”
As if she could turn down an invitation like that. She charged across the room and plopped onto the sturdy coffee table. The new jigsaw puzzle Cheyenne had picked out for the family to do was still in its box. She nudged it aside. “Are you missing Justin already?”
“Nope. Glad he’s on a flight to Los Angeles. He works hard and he deserves this trip.”
“That’s not what I meant, Dad.”
“My oldest son just married the best gal for him.” He tried again. Maybe he didn’t realize he was dodging the truth. “I couldn’t be happier for him. The first of my kids to get married. It’s a proud day.”
“It’s pretty lonely, though. At least until I came home.” She phrased it more like a question, knowing full well her tough and rugged father would never admit to a simple human weakness.
“I’m just not used to this house being quiet.” He leaned forward, grabbed the puzzle box and wrestled the top off it. “It’s something I’d best adapt to.”
“What do you mean? I’m here.”
“For how much longer?” He flashed his smile at her as he tossed the lid aside and gave the box a shuffle. “With the way the new sheriff’s falling for you, you’ll be engaged by Christmas.”
“Ha! Fat chance.” She slipped to her knees and began stacking up the cattlemen’s and ranching magazines. “I’m not going anywhere. Besides, Cheyenne will be back to stay when she graduates in the spring. You know Nate wants her to join his practice. Addison has one more year and she’ll be home, too.”
“That will all be fine.” That wasn’t what was bothering him, but he could hardly tell her that.
He dropped to his knees on the carpet and plopped the puzzle box between them. A few pieces flew up and tumbled onto the big coffee table. Only then did he notice the scene Cheyenne had picked out: a family on horseback bringing in a fresh-cut Christmas tree on a sled. The snowy hills and forests and the bold blue sky could have been part of their land. It could have been a picture of his family any given year. He could almost hear the children’s chatter and occasional punctuations of laughter in the cold crisp air.
He cleared his throat. “Are you going to help me?”
“Sure.” She punched the remote and the TV came to life. The news station out of Jackson came on, but Autumn was already checking the on-screen guide. A few pixels winked and blinked as she chose one of their family favorites. It’s a Wonderful Life came on in mid-movie. Jimmy Stewart started singing under a moon. Frank picked through the two thousand cardboard tabs looking for border pieces.
“Mrs. Gunderson left food in the fridge.” Autumn hopped to her feet. “I’ll pop something in the oven. Be right back.”
“Maybe it’s a good time to clean off the satellite.” Several more blips were flashing on the screen. Snow was accumulating on the dish. A quick fix. He wanted to finish watching the movie. It would give him something to do until it was his turn to pull guard duty at the line shack tonight. If those rustlers came back, he would be ready for them. He yanked on his boots, zipped himself into his parka and grabbed the broom from the closet.
Snow peppered him as he circled around the house. The fresh air, crisp evening and wide-open feel of his land were comforts that never failed. It wasn’t often loneliness troubled him. A man had to be comfortable in his skin to live smack dab in the middle of five hundred thousand acres. It wasn’t the fact of his kids growing up and leaving that troubled him.
Cady Winslow was. Sandi and Arlene had both been sending out plenty of signals, but not her. He hiked onto the front porch, put his boot on the top rail and hefted himself up. A few swipes of the broom had snow sliding off the dish. That ought to do it. Now, without interference, he could watch Jimmy Stewart come to appreciate his life.
With the fire crackling in the fireplace and the TV droning in the background, Cady felt cozy and snug as she ladled chicken noodle soup into a bowl. What a pleasant day it had been. She’d stayed as long as she could after the wedding, cleaning up in the kitchen with the Ladies Aid, but she’d come home to emptiness. Maybe she would think about getting a pet. A cat would be nice to purr and curl up beside her on the couch. Or maybe a dog to bark and run at her heels.
For now, she was lonely as she padded in her pink slippers to the living room. The rest of her meal was spread out on the coffee table and she added the soup bowl to it. She sat on the floor and bowed her head. She’d barely finished the blessing when the phone rang.
Great. Someone calling! Her left knee creaked as she got up, circled around the couch and snared the cordless. The familiar number on the screen put a spring in her step. “Adam.”
“Hey. I’m in need of a wise woman’s sage advice, so I thought I would call.”
“I know that tone. What’s going on with the girls?” She folded herself on the floor and grabbed a half of her toasted cheese sandwich.
“I can’t understand, or at least that’s what Jenny tells me.” She could picture him shaking his head, perplexed. “What do you know about little girls’ fashion?”
“Not too much, but I’m sure I can wing it. What’s the big problem?” She took a bite of her sandwich while it was still hot.
“Jenny wants a miniskirt for Christmas, and when I told her she was not putting it on her Christmas list, the end of the world ensued.” Adam chuckled self-deprecatingly. “I was informed I know nothing. I stood my ground, but I’m out of my depth. I need help.”
“Jenny is way too young for a miniskirt. In fact, I think I am, too.”
“It’s good to have confirmation. But now I have an other problem.”
“How did I know?” She put down her sandwich and took a sip of soy milk.
“She wants clothes for Christmas. Fashionable clothes. Things I’m told I don’t understand.” Adam blew out a sigh. “It’s tru
e. My idea of fashion is remembering to put on a tie in the morning. Whether or not it matches my shirt is immaterial.”
“Then it’s a good thing you know me. I’m a fantastic shopper.”
“You’re a lifesaver.”
“I’m a woman who knows how to use a credit card.” She knew that would make him laugh. After finding out beyond all doubt that Frank was never going to look at her differently, she could use one, too. “You could e-mail me her list and I can take a look at it.”
“I have a better idea.” Adam hesitated. “I don’t want to impose, but how would you feel if I invited the three of us over for Christmas? I know you’re out there all alone, and the girls miss you. You could help me with shopping then.”
“I would love it, but what will your parents say?”
“They won’t mind too much. The girls and I can fly down and visit them on the way home. As long as you are good with it?”
“Good? I’m great. You can see the inn and my little cottage. Oh, and my horse. Little Julianna will love that.” This was exciting. She had a fondness for her youngest godchild, who was just ten years old and had a love of creatures great and small.
“It will be good for my girls, too. I appreciate this, Cady.”
“Then we have plans to make, my friend.”
After making plans to make plans, she hung up, finished her soup and sandwich and got back to work on her jigsaw puzzle. The brief call had been a pleasant interruption, but the house was quiet again. On her TV screen, Jimmy Stewart was saved by an angel. The fire in the hearth crackled and she tried to pretend she wasn’t lonely.
This was her life. It was always going to be this way.
Why couldn’t she forget the wonder of dancing in Ford’s arms even a day later? Autumn tried to focus as she grabbed the pink halter from the hooks in the tackroom. The sensation of security he’d given her had remained at the back of her mind. The smoky timbre of his voice had trailed her through a dreamless night of sleep.
Worse, the peace she’d experienced when she’d laid her cheek on his chest did not fade. Memories distracted her through her midnight watch when the line shack was cold and silent. She’d nearly let the fire go out. If the rustlers had returned with a dozen helicopters she would have been in serious danger, too lost in a daydream to hear them.
No man had ever affected her like this. He’d been the topic of conversation before Sunday school started. Both Merritt and Caroline had called wanting an update on what they saw as a budding romance. A romance? That thought tortured her.
I’m not falling for him, she told herself. She could be stubborn when she wanted to be. She was tough. She could keep tight control of her feelings. End of story. Letting the man any closer was the quickest way to spell doom.
“You’re lost in the clouds today, aren’t ya?” A voice startled her, coming as if out of nowhere.
“Scotty.” She whirled around, realizing she was halfway across the barn without being aware of taking a single step. Her head was in the clouds, and she needed it with her.
“Suppose you’re just tired,” Scotty said kindly. A wool cap hid most of his salt-and-pepper hair, and the parka he wore emphasized his barrel appearance. “I could take your shift tonight. Give you a night off.”
“We’re a hand short with Justin gone.” She didn’t mind the late night or hours spent on the job. What she minded was her lack of discipline. When she put her mind to something, she was used to it staying there. So not a good sign that she was glancing toward the lane. Ford wouldn’t be coming for a while, and yet she was already watching for him.
Sad, pathetic, sappy, she told herself as Scotty went back to saddling horses and she padded down the aisle. The stalls were mostly empty since many of horses were out in their paddocks enjoying the sunshine and snow. A few lingered indoors and nickered as she walked by, hoping for a treat or a pat. Hard not to give in and dole out a sweet.
“Hi, Wildflower.” She greeted Cheyenne’s favorite mare with a nose pat and a molasses treat, which she pulled out of her pocket. “Were you hoping I was coming to exercise you?”
The mare nickered and tossed her head. She was a sweet mare, used to a lot of attention. Her six-month-old baby pranced up to the gate. Snowflake was already a beauty like her mama with her white and gold pinto markings, snowy mane and big melted-chocolate eyes. The filly stuck her little mouth through the bars and sniffed the interesting bright pink thing. Curious, she dug in her teeth and pulled.
“That’s right. It’s a calf halter.” The back of her neck tingled and she turned around. Ford. How had he gotten here? She hadn’t heard him drive in. She forgot to breathe as he strode toward her in silhouette with the sunlight behind him. He could have strolled out of her most secret of dreams.
She could not start hoping he was the one. That any man wouldn’t try to change her, could love who she really was. She had to be sensible, dig in her feet and refuse to let hope take wing.
Fine, she was hoping. Just a tiny bit. With every step he took, hope flourished undeniably.
“We couldn’t help showing up early,” he explained, Stetson shading his face. Could a man be any more masculine without breaking the laws of physics? He knuckled back his brim like a hero of old. “Shay’s helping the guy saddle the horses. He’s more excited than I am. A real cattle drive.”
“It’s only a few miles, and we do it all the time.”
“Sure, moving herds from winter to summer pastures. This is a big ranch. How do you keep track of your animals?” He joined her in front of Wildflower’s stall.
“We spend a lot of time in the saddle. We keep our fences good and except for the occasional mountain lion, we don’t have much trouble.” Except for the attempted rustling. To her surprise, Wildflower laid her chin in Ford’s hands.
“How are you doing, girl?” Gentle, he moved in. The mare closed her eyes as he caressed the lean lines of her cheek and jaw. Total trust. The man had a way with animals. She could admit it. The hard part was that she admired it, admired him.
“What a pretty girl you are,” he mumbled before picking up their conversation. The warmth remained in his words. “I came early because I wanted to see you.”
Why did that make the hopes within her take root? Don’t start wishing. Wishing led to all kinds of disappointments. She fisted her hands, firmed her spine and forced one foot off the ground in an attempt to step away from him. “Why?”
“It doesn’t make sense to me, but I missed you.” He gave the horse a final pat of attention.
“You saw me yesterday.”
“I have a theory if you’re interested.” Solemn and steadfast, he towered over her.
“I’m not interested in any of your theories, Sherman. You’re in my barn, so I’m putting you to work.”
“I’m good with that.” He didn’t seem troubled by the prospect and trailed her down the way.
“We’ll see how you do. This is a test. I’m taking Arlene Miller up on her suggestion.” She stopped to unlatch a gate to a center pen. The Kents’ sick yearlings were looking better. “Hey, there. It’s time to go home.”
The heifer unfolded her legs, splayed them on the clean straw and struggled to her feet.
“Good job. I brought you a treat.” She dug a molasses chunk out of her pocket. It disappeared in an instant. While the animal chewed happily, she slid the soft nylon collar over the heifer’s nose and behind her ears. The cow shook her head, ready to bolt, but Autumn spoke in a low and comforting voice. “Hear that? Your ride is here. You get to go home in a truck. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
The calf shook her head, not at all sure about the halter or riding in a truck.
“She doesn’t look impressed.” He hiked into the pen. Straw crunched beneath his hiking boots. The scent of warm cow and sweet alfalfa was a pleasant combination. Autumn clipped in the lead and handed it to him. He took the nylon rope in surprise. “You don’t want me to take her.”
“She’s only a few hundred
pounds. Or can’t you handle her?”
“Sure I can.” Testing him, was she? Well, he was up to it. He didn’t balk at a challenge. As he heard men’s voices and the rumble of a two-ton engine echoing through the barn, he didn’t need to ask where to take the calf. The animal latched on to the hem of his coat and dug in firm teeth. He had flashbacks to his first day in town and the cattle attacking his Jeep and waving his clothes in the breeze. “Is this a pet or a range animal?”
“You’ll have to live dangerously and find out.” She walked away, shaking her head at him.
The rustle of her jeans, the clip of her boots and the way her ponytail bounced with her gait filled his senses until he could drown. She had captured him utterly, a storybook beauty in a brown coat and worn jeans who had walked right off the pages and into his life.
Here it goes, Lord. He put it in prayer. Help me to walk this path You’ve presented to me as if I’d never been hurt. I have to do this with my whole heart. I don’t want to mess up my one chance with her.
He gave the lead a tug. “Come on, little one. Your ride is waiting for you.”
The animal took one look at him, saw that Autumn was gone and dug her hooves into the straw and refused to move. The heifer wasn’t so little now. Impossible to strong-arm her down the aisle. Good thing he’d followed Autumn’s advice and found time to make a stop at the feed store.
“How about one of these?” He unzipped his pocket, pulled out a treat and held it in front of the calf’s nose. When the animal launched forward to snare it, he lured the creature straight down the aisle.
“Ford!” Frank called out. “Glad to see you’re getting the hang of things. We’ll turn you into a cowboy yet. Lead her right up the ramp.”
“So you’re the new sheriff.” A gray-haired, lean man tipped his Stetson. “Good to meet you, son.”
“You must be Mr. Kent.” He landed in the bed of the truck and let the heifer have the treat. He knelt to unbuckle the harness and through the truck’s rail slats, he caught sight of Autumn trotting alongside a second yearling.
