The Rancher's City Girl

by Patricia Johns

  “That’s sweet.” She chuckled softly. “I feel a little underfoot.”

  “No... Okay, sometimes, but not after you figured things out a bit.” He grinned. “Why don’t you stay on as our medic?”

  “Because I have to take your father home.” Eloise met his gaze evenly. “You know that. I’m his nurse.”

  “What if I held the space for you for after my dad—” Cory frowned. It felt wrong to be making plans for after his father’s death. “If you like it here, and you feel inspired to paint here, and enjoy the work—I sure could use a competent medic like you.”

  “No.” Tears rose in Eloise’s eyes and she shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?” Cory pressed. “Are you really willing to just drop all of this, forget about it? About me?”

  “So, do you want me to be the medic, or something more?” she asked.

  “Something more,” he admitted. “I’m crazy about you.”

  “If you’d asked me a few days ago, I might have answered differently,” Eloise replied, her voice low. “Yes, I feel it, and I haven’t felt like this for such a long time, but—”

  Those words buoyed him up.

  “That’s got to be worth something,” Cory said.

  “It is!” She dashed a curl away from her forehead. “And getting to know your father, I was starting to believe in love and marriage again. I thought that maybe your father’s marriage was an example of love conquering all.”

  Cory’s stomach sank. His father wasn’t a shining example of husbandly excellence. He was a disappointment in pretty much every relationship in his life, as far as he could see.

  “I’m not Robert Bessler,” he said woodenly.

  “No, but I’ve been married before,” Eloise replied. “And I thought that maybe your father held some kind of marital secret. He went back to his wife, instead of moving on with the other woman. That’s pretty amazing. After Philip dumped me, I really wanted to know how to be that woman.”

  “Philip had the problem, not you,” Cory responded.

  “How do I know?” Something between irritation and passion sparkled in her green eyes. “I have no idea!”

  “If only you could see yourself the way I see you.” He smiled. “You’re gorgeous, intelligent, strangely wise... I don’t know how Philip ever tore his eyes off you.”

  Tears swam in her eyes. “You don’t know me well enough.”

  “I know you better than you think.” Cory closed the gap between them and ran a hand down her silky arm. She shook her head and stepped back, out of his reach.

  “Cory, I can’t live through more heartbreak.”

  “Preaching to the choir,” he retorted. “Eloise, I agree—my father was a horrible husband. But I’m nothing like him, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “I can’t do this,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m not ready—” She didn’t finish her thought.

  “Look, I didn’t expect to fall for you, either. I mean, I’m a rancher to the core, and you’re—not! But you’re amazing, and I’m willing to see where this goes.”

  “See where it goes...” Eloise laughed bitterly. “Why, Cory? Tell me that. Because I’m not what you want. I’m not a ranching woman. I can’t even ride a horse. I kill houseplants! Why on earth would you put aside what you really need?”

  She had a point. So, what was he hoping—that she’d agree to be the medic and morph into a ranching woman before his eyes?

  Eloise asked pointedly, “Are you hoping that I’ll become someone different if I just stay here long enough?”

  An image of Deirdre rose in his mind. She’d known the land, known the machines, known the livestock like no other woman in the county—he’d counted on her. When she left, Cory had resented that she’d given up on the land, but his desire to share these acres with a woman who could love them as deeply as he did hadn’t waned.

  “I know what I need,” he admitted, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I need a ranching woman.”

  “See?” Tears shone in her eyes. “I’m not going to change. I am who I am.”

  “And our feelings?” he pressed. “Don’t they factor in at all?”

  “They aren’t enough,” she replied with a shake of her head. “I’ve lived through that once already.”

  Eloise was right. If he couldn’t accept her for who she was right now, what kind of future did they have together? But the thought of saying goodbye hurt more than he could stand.

  “Would you be willing to work with me?” he asked. “Just be the medic out here. No pressure.”

  “No.” She sucked in a breath. “I’d fall in love with you. I couldn’t handle the heartbreak.”

  Cory nodded, his heart heavy. “Too late for me,” he muttered.

  Eloise brushed a tear off her cheek.

  “I’m going to bed now,” she said. “I just need to get my balance back. This will never work between us, Cory. So let’s just keep it professional, okay?”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “That’s for the best.”

  As Eloise left the room, Cory stood alone with the floral scent of her perfume still hanging in the air.

  Was he crazy to want more with a woman who was so far from what he needed around here? Probably, but his heart felt as heavy as cement inside his chest anyway. They did have their faith in common, and Eloise was a strong, resilient, trustworthy woman—all traits that he was looking for in a wife. She understood him better than anyone in this short time, but it didn’t change who they were. She was city. He was country.

  Eloise wasn’t for him. The timing was all wrong, and at least she had the wisdom to see it.

  Lord, he prayed silently, give me the strength...

  The strength to let her go? To face reality? Cory wasn’t sure. He just knew that he didn’t have shoulders wide enough to carry this one on his own.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Cory carried the bags to his father’s house on the sleepy Haggerston street. The sun was high, lighting up the day in false cheerfulness. The little bungalow crouched next to a scraggly apple tree, curtains closed and driveway empty.

  The drive had been a quiet one. Cory had had so much to say, and so little at the same time. It had all been said before. Eloise was beautiful, funny, sweet—but she didn’t want the life he did. What was left to discuss?

  This is it. I probably won’t come back here.

  Eloise pushed the old man’s wheelchair into the kitchen, and Cory set down their bags by the door.

  “I’m tired,” his father murmured.

  “I’ll get you settled in bed, Robert,” Eloise assured him. “Let me give you your pills first, okay?”

  Cory watched him as he took his medication with a few sips of water.

  This is my dad. Maybe I’ll look more like him when I get to his age.

  He’d appreciated this opportunity to know Robert, even if the old man hadn’t been what he’d expected. Meeting his dad had cleared up some questions and added a few extra, but Cory felt he understood a little more about the man who had sired him. He might not miss the old man’s snarky comments, or his constant irritability, but he would miss the chance to get to know him better.

  Cory hadn’t known Eloise for long, either, but somehow she’d worked her way into his mind, even into his thoughts while he worked or drove. She would not be easy to forget.

  Would this be his final goodbye to both of them?

  His father’s eyes flickered toward him.

  “So this is it?” his father asked, as if reading his mind.

  Cory nodded. “Looks like.”

  “Well, you’ve seen me in all my glory. What do you think?”

  Cory wasn’t sure what to say, and his father rasped out a laugh.

  “That’s
what I thought,” he said. “No hard feelings, boy. I take a bit to get used to.”

  “Thanks for coming out to the ranch,” Cory said. “I wanted you to see that.”

  “You’ve done okay for yourself, kid.” The old man shrugged. “I don’t like long goodbyes.”

  His father’s praise warmed him, and he nodded, trying to cover the rise of emotion. He’d waited a lifetime to hear his father say that he’d done well.

  “Me, either.” Cory gave the old man a grin. “I guess I get that from you.”

  “So, see you...” He held his son’s gaze for a moment, then looked up at Eloise. “I’ll go to bed now.”

  Eloise nodded and gave Cory a sympathetic look. “Would you wait a few minutes before you go?”

  Cory nodded, and as Eloise rolled his father out of the kitchen and toward his bedroom, he let his gaze move over the room.

  He noticed a tin of tea on the counter, a line of medicine bottles beside the tea. He wondered how much he could learn about his father just by looking around his kitchen.

  Not a lot, he admitted to himself. Not the things I want to know.

  The clock on the wall ticked, and from the kitchen he could hear the murmur of voices. He had no memories of the people who lived in this house, but he knew he was connected to it. His father had lived here with Ruth. He could feel the woman’s touch about the place—the seventies-styled pot holders hanging on the wall, the tins lined up from smallest to largest at the top of the cupboards, fake plants collecting dust along a windowsill. Ruth could still be felt in her kitchen.

  When Eloise returned, she stopped in the doorway, fatigue showing around her eyes. Pulling a hand through her curls, she brushed them away from her face.

  “Thanks for waiting,” she said.

  “Of course.” He smiled, and they sat down at the kitchen table. “I’m sorry about last night.”

  “No, that’s okay. I guess we had to get a few things settled.”

  He nodded. That was true enough. “You’ll tell me when he passes away, right?”

  “Of course. You’ll be my first call.” Compassion entered her gaze and she gave him a sad smile. “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m okay.” He nodded. “I got to meet him, and that’s more than I had before.”

  “So it wasn’t a mistake to find you?”

  “Far from it.” A lump rose in his throat. “But I’m going to miss you.”

  Her chin trembled. “Me, too.”

  Cory fiddled with the rim of his hat, then dropped it onto his knee. “I’d better get going.”

  Eloise nodded. “I suppose.”

  Cory stood and went to the door, his hat in one hand. When he turned back toward her, he found her eyes focused on his, her lips parted. He longed to dip down and catch those lips in his, but he knew better.

  “Come here,” he said softly. When she approached he gathered her against his broad chest. She fit neatly under his arms, and he rested his cheek against her soft curls, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo. He held her close, feeling the patter of her heart against his shirt.

  “Is this a really bad time to tell you that I’m falling in love with you?” Cory murmured.

  Eloise laughed. “Yes!”

  “Just checking.”

  She pulled back, and when she raised her eyes to meet his, he found tears sparkling. She swallowed hard.

  “Take care,” he said softly.

  Opening the door, Cory stepped outside. Never before had walking away taken so much effort.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The herd was safely in the cow barn before Cory headed to the ranch house. His body ached from the work, and his arm throbbed in the damp weather. Rain fell steadily, veiling the ranch in mist, and he was wet through, despite his raincoat. A trickle of water worked its way down his spine, and when another blast of wind hit him, he shivered.

  The house glowed comfortably in the distance, and he picked up his pace as wind drove into his face.

  She’s not there.

  The realization knocked the energy out of his stride. Eloise hadn’t been on his land long, but the time she was there had made an impact. He couldn’t just fall back into his regular routines.

  I got used to her.

  It was more than that. It was deeper. He’d fallen in love with her against his better judgment.

  Cory remembered the way the house used to glow when his grandparents were still alive, and he and his grandfather would trudge back home after a long day of work together.

  “You know my favorite thing in the world?” his grandfather would ask.

  “What?”

  “The light in that window.”

  Cory had never fully understood his grandfather’s sentiment. He’d associated it with his grandmother’s delicious cooking that would be waiting for them, but now he knew different.

  A light in the window meant more than a meal. It meant a person—a woman.

  The wet ground squished beneath his boots, and he hunched his shoulders against the prying rain. He stomped his boots on the steps, and as he stepped inside, he shook off his raincoat and dropped his sodden hat onto a peg.

  Some leftover stew remained in the fridge, and after a quick supper eaten over the kitchen sink, Cory washed the bowl, then headed to his bedroom.

  Lord, I just need this day to end.

  As he peeled off his work shirt, his eyes fell once more on the little metal box on his dresser. He’d taken it from the library, meaning to go through all of the letters, but had lost heart after he’d read just a few.

  He stared at that box for a long moment, then picked it up and opened it. He flipped through the envelopes with the now-familiar handwriting until he came to a different envelope—the handwriting that of his mother’s, not Robert’s. Written across the top were the words From Ruth Bessler.

  Cory frowned and peeled it open. Inside was a collection of bank receipts—each one for one hundred dollars. On the first of every month, a check for one hundred dollars had been cashed. He looked at the date.

  “I was ten...” he murmured.

  Ruth Bessler, his father’s wife, had been sending money to his mother?

  Suddenly the pieces clicked into place in his mind and he stood in stunned silence.

  I got new clothes, new shoes, went on class trips. My mom couldn’t afford any of that. She wore the same old clothes from ten years before.

  He knew exactly where those luxuries came from now. Ruth had been supporting her husband’s illegitimate child all those years.

  Ruth knew.

  * * *

  Several days passed and Eloise documented her patient’s decline. He spent more time sleeping, and he grew more lethargic, less aware of things going on around him. Normally at a time like this, family members pulled close, supporting each other as they awaited the final goodbye, but Mr. Bessler faced this alone—except for his loyal nurse.

  One evening, Eloise sat next to Mr. Bessler’s bed, her Bible in her lap. She’d begun to spend more time sitting next to him while he slept. She wasn’t sure if her presence comforted him or not. She sat next to a reading light, her Bible open to a passage in Psalms:

  Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows.

  Tonight this passage comforted her. Her mind went back to the vast swarms of sparrows she’d seen swooping and diving in unison at the ranch. It was miraculous that they knew how to stay together, but more amazing still that God kept track of every tiny bird in every massive swarm, and was with each one that fell.

  Eloise knew she wasn’t alone, but she also knew that she’d soon go back to he
r own “swarm” in Billings and disappear into the hubbub of the city. She would never be alone when she had God with her, but the thought still saddened her.

  She missed Cory.

  Her patient stirred, and she looked up from her Bible. She glanced at his medication chart to see when his next dose was due, and it was soon.

  He moaned softly, his eyelids fluttering open, then shut again.

  “Red?” he murmured.

  “I’m here, Robert.”

  “I’m cold.”

  Eloise grabbed another blanket and settled it over him, but he didn’t seem satisfied. He licked his lips and his eyes fluttered open again.

  “Are you in pain?” she asked softly. “I could give you your next dose now, if you need it.”

  “It hurts,” he whispered. “But no.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I don’t want to sleep...” His voice trailed away.

  “What do you need?”

  “Where’s Cory?”

  Eloise wondered if he’d lost track of time. “You’re at home, Robert. Cory went back to his ranch.”

  The old man nodded slowly. “I forgot.”

  “It’s okay,” she reassured him. “Everything is fine.”

  “I’m not ready to die,” he said, and Eloise felt tears rise in her eyes.

  “I’m not a bad man, Red.”

  “I know that.”

  “I only found God a few years ago. My wife—” He swallowed and licked at his dry lips. “My wife prayed for years that I’d find Jesus.”

  “And you did,” she whispered, bringing a cup of water to his lips. He took a sip.

  “Not soon enough.” He shook his head, a tear trickling down his lined cheek. “I ruined too many lives before I changed.”

  “Did Ruth know that you found God?” she asked softly.

  “We had ten good years together, but I don’t think they were enough to make up for the other forty.”

  “Robert,” she said firmly, “that isn’t for you to judge. Leave that to God, okay?”