Rocky Mountain Cowboy

by Tina Radcliffe

  “You and God. Yes. You’re right. She nodded and walked slowly past the high columns to the generously proportioned front door.

  Virginia answered on the first knock. She was unsmiling, and she seemed even more solemn than usual. There was something weighing heavily on her mind. She glanced from Rebecca to Joe’s truck. “Thank you for coming.”

  Rebecca clutched her purse tightly as Virginia ushered her into the large entrance way. Her heels echoed on the marble floor.

  “Did you fall?” Virginia looked from Rebecca’s forehead to her arm. “Oh, my. Stitches, as well?”

  “I was thrown from a horse.

  “You’re riding again?”

  “I am. Not well, apparently.”

  Virginia frowned. “How unfortunate.”

  “Part and parcel,” Rebecca murmured.

  “Shall we sit in the living room?” Virginia asked.

  “That’s fine.”

  She looked quickly around as they passed from the entrance, through French doors and into the living room. Even after all these years, very little had changed in the room from the days when she and Nick would visit his family. He’d been an up-and-coming legal prodigy, mentored by his grandfather. But the pressure of meeting his grandfather’s expectations seemed to be the catalyst that started spinning Nick’s life out of control. They stopped visiting Four Forks. Nick rarely did anything, but work. He hardly noticed that he had a wife and a child.

  Virginia smoothed her white linen slacks as she perched on the silk brocade couch. With a hand, she beckoned for Rebecca to sit next to her.

  “I thought maybe it was time for us to discuss the future,” Virginia said.

  “The future? Whose future?”

  “Casey’s. Yours. Mine.”

  Rebecca nodded. She folded her hands in her lap and took a deep breath. “I hope you understand that before I can deal with the future, I need to deal with the past.”

  “I meant it when I said I knew you were innocent, Rebecca. I can’t apologize enough for what my father put you through. What I allowed.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” She glanced around, praying she still had the courage to do what must finally be done. “Where did you say Judge Brown is?”

  “He’s in Denver. My father had a stroke yesterday morning. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Oh.” Rebecca froze. “How’s he doing?”

  “Please keep him in your prayers. I know it seems as though he doesn’t deserve them, but he needs them. He’s lost most of the use of his right side. His doctors have told me that full recovery is doubtful. With his other medical issues, we’re hoping to keep him comfortable in a facility in Denver until his condition stabilizes and we can decide what’s next.”

  “I see. What do you want me to tell Casey?”

  “Nothing for now. I was in Denver all day yesterday. Jana is with him now. I’m closing out the house and will leave tonight.”

  “Maybe this isn’t the time for us to talk. I don’t want to add to your stress. You have a lot going on.”

  “I think we’ve put this off for far too long.”

  Rebecca nodded. “You’re right.”

  “I now have power of attorney for my father’s estate. I discovered he’s been harassing you. His lawyer tells me he’s been harassing Joseph Gallagher, as well.” Virginia shook her head. “I wish you would have told me.”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “Trust me, it will stop. Immediately.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Tell me about my son.” Virginia took a deep breath and met Rebecca’s gaze. “I haven’t wanted to know. It’s taken me two years, and I’m finally ready to face the truth. Nick had a drinking problem like his father. That much I am sure of.”

  Rebecca hesitated. Was Virginia really prepared for what she had to say?

  “Nick... Nick was an alcoholic. When he drank, he became physically and verbally abusive. Never in front of his daughter.” Rebecca held her hands tightly in her lap, her nails biting into her skin, as she admitted the truth aloud. A truth she had never revealed to anyone before.

  “Oh, no, no.” Virginia’s words were a soft painful wail. She covered her mouth with her hands and closed her eyes. “You poor child.”

  “Nick often got a little carried away.” She unfolded her hands and moved her fingers over the rough scar.

  Virginia’s gaze moved to Rebecca’s arm and her face paled.

  “That’s what he would say. ‘I got a little carried away. I didn’t mean it.’” Rebecca swallowed. “This scar...it’s from one of the times when he got a little carried away.”

  Silent tears ran down Virginia’s cheeks. “I think I’ve suspected as much all along, which makes me as guilty as my son.” She raised her face. “Nick made you lose control of the car, didn’t he?”

  Rebecca nodded. “Nick was furious because I took the car keys after he’d obviously had too much to drink. He took off his seat belt and grabbed the wheel.” This time she closed her eyes, remembering that horrible night. It happened in an instant. The car had veered off the road, skidded as she fought for control of the wheel, and finally crashed. Then everything had been very silent, the only sound was the rain tapping on the windshield.

  “I’m sorry,” Rebecca whispered. The apology was for Virginia and maybe for Nick, as well.

  She raised her head and met Virginia’s gaze. “More sorry than you know. I should have demanded that he get help long ago.”

  “We can’t fix people. You couldn’t fix Nick. I couldn’t fix his father.” She wiped her tears and sniffed. “Yet you never told anyone.”

  “No. For years I believed it was my fault. My secret. My shame. It’s taken a long time for me to understand that was wrong thinking.”

  “Why didn’t your lawyer use this information in court?”

  “I wouldn’t let him. This was my daughter’s father, and I honestly believed, deep down inside, that the guilt was mine. Those were the darkest days of my life, until I finally turned everything over to God.”

  “My father needs to know.”

  “You’re the only one who can talk to your father. I can’t do that to him. I doubt if he’d believe me anyhow.”

  “This just might destroy him. Nick was everything to the judge.”

  “There was a time when he was everything to me, too.”

  “Who’s that man who drove you here?”

  “That’s Joe Gallagher.”

  “May I ask how he fits into your life? Into Casey’s?”

  “I don’t know. I’m rebuilding my life one day at a time. Joe’s a good man, a good friend, but I don’t know what the future holds.”

  “The Lord brought you back here for a reason, Rebecca. Stay close to Him. Don’t throw away your second chance.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Thank you for shielding Casey.” She took Rebecca’s hand in hers. “You sacrificed yourself for your daughter.”

  “I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Casey is the best of Nick and me. I see him in her all the time. She has his sense of humor, and she’s smart. Smarter than both Nick and I. Maybe she’ll grow up to be a lawyer.”

  “Or maybe she’ll be a rancher. A horsewoman, like her mother,” Virginia said.

  “Whatever she wants to be. Casey has a full life ahead of her.”

  “Thank you. Thank you for telling me the truth. Despite everything, you’ve given us another chance. I’m grateful.”

  “I want to live in Paradise. I want Casey to grow up with a close relationship with her father’s family. Do you think we can do that?”

  “Yes. I want the same things.”

  Rebecca stood alone on the steps of the Simpson home and took a deep, cleansing breath as s
he looked around, almost expecting the world to have changed.

  It had. Things were different, she realized. For the first time in a very long time she was free from the secrets of her past. The accident could no longer hold her hostage, nor could the awful memories.

  Up ahead, Joe stood next to the truck, waiting for her. He was a good man and what Virginia said echoed in her head. The Lord had given her a second chance and she was going to do everything she could to hold onto it.

  “How’d it go?” He moved to open her door. Taking her arm, he helped her step up into the cab of the truck and waited for her answer, concern on his face.

  “That was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. It was like burying Nick all over again. Yet it was also about forgiving him and saying goodbye to the past. I can finally close the door.” She released a breath and leaned back against the seat. “I’m exhausted.”

  “What about the judge?”

  “He won’t bother either of us again.”

  “Becca, I’m so proud of you.”

  “You know what? I’m proud of me, too.”

  * * *

  Rebecca nodded toward the packet on Joe’s desk.

  “This is it. We’re finished, right?” Joe asked with a smile.

  “We’re finished as soon as you sign off on the photos and the video clips.”

  “I did.”

  “The write-up Abi did, too?”

  “All signed and dated.” He grinned and handed the stack to her.

  “I’ll take it back to Rod and Abi.”

  “No more ‘turn slightly to the left, Mr. Gallagher.’ ‘Hold those reins with your right hand, Mr. Gallagher.’ ‘Give us a smile for the camera. Chin up. Hold that pose.’”

  She raised a brow. “Now you’re plain exaggerating. It wasn’t that bad.”

  “Yeah, it was.”

  Rebecca cleared her throat. She frowned, trying to figure out the best way to broach the next subject.

  “Okay, now what’s wrong?” he asked.

  “The team wants to talk to you.”

  “Say goodbye and all?”

  “Um, not exactly.”

  “What exactly does ‘not exactly’ mean?”

  “They’re outside. Maybe I should let them explain.”

  “Oh, no.” Joe shook his head and groaned. “I’ve got a real bad feeling about this, Becca. Can’t you give me a heads-up?”

  “It’s not my place.”

  His shoulders sank. “Okay, Fine. Bring them in.”

  Joe offered a weak smile as the rest of the OrthoBorne team filed into his office.

  Rod stepped forward. “Mr. Gallagher, we’ve been talking.”

  Joe’s eyes rounded. He swallowed.

  “We’ve decided to stay.”

  “Come again?” He blinked and shot a “help me” look at Rebecca.

  “We’re going to harvest the hay with you. It’s the least we can do for all you’ve put up with.”

  Joe raised both hands. “That’s not necessary.”

  “It is,” Rod said. “Rebecca told us you’re having a hard time getting help.” He looked at Abi and Julian and smiled. “We’re here and we’re free. You can’t hardly beat a deal like that, even in Paradise.”

  He turned to her again. “You told them?”

  “It sort of came up in conversation,” Rebecca said.

  Joe opened his mouth and closed it. He scratched his head. Finally he looked up at Rod. “What do you know about cutting and baling hay?”

  “I watched about a dozen videos on YouTube this morning. Today, I went out to the barn to inspect your equipment. I don’t see any reason why I couldn’t relieve you on the windrower. I used to work in the garden department of my local greenhouse. I’ve worked a forklift many times. Not much difference between that and your skid loader.”

  “Gotta love the internet.” Joe chuckled.

  “Especially WebMD,” Rebecca muttered.

  When Joe jerked his head around to look at her, she realized there was a good chance that pushing his buttons might not be the best approach.

  “So how long after you cut are you going to bale?” Rod asked.

  “We’ve had a run of good weather. Counting today, we’ve had four days of sunshine. The hay is prime for cutting. The forecast is in our favor. Humidity is back to normal, which is next to nothing in Colorado. You can’t do better than cut one day, rake and bale the next. We’re just going to give it our best shot.”

  “We?” Rod asked.

  “I’m probably out of my mind.” Joe scratched his head. “But I’m considering taking you up on your offer.”

  “That’s great,” Rod said. He offered a grin filled with enthusiasm.

  “I’d like to help, as well. What can I do?” Abi asked with a smile.

  “Well, um...” Joe swallowed.

  “Never mind. I’ll stand around and look good. That should be plenty.”

  Rebecca laughed. “Oh, I can think of a dozen chores you and I can do while Joe is cutting hay. No worries. I’ll make you a list, and then get you the keys to the truck.”

  “I can cook,” Julian said quietly.

  “What did you say?” Rebecca asked.

  “I said, I can cook.”

  “Since when?” Abi asked, surprise lacing her voice.

  “I attended Le Cordon Bleu College of Culinary Arts in Scottsdale on full scholarship.”

  “Wh-what?” Abi sputtered.

  “Why are you working at OrthoBorne?” Rod asked.

  “It pays better.”

  Joe’s cell phone rang and he raised a palm to silence the room. “Yes, sir... Yes, sir... Looks like Wednesday, possibly Thursday, as well.” He paused, blinked and then raised his brows in stunned surprise. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

  He turned slowly to stare at Rebecca. “That was Hollis Elliott. When we’re ready, he’ll send over a team with equipment to rake and bale.”

  “A team?” she asked slowly.

  “That’s what the man said. Do you know anything about this?” he asked.

  Rebecca shrugged and glanced away. “I might have mentioned that you were baling.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Hollis is a generous man.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Well, Joe,” Rebecca said with a wink, “speaking as one stubborn cowboy to another, you have to recognize when you need backup. You can’t be afraid to ask for help and you can’t be afraid to accept it.”

  Joe gave a nod of approval, a slow smile appearing on his lips as if he recalled saying those same words to her, not so long ago. “Well done, Becca. Well, done.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Rebecca? Is that you?”

  Rebecca whirled on the heel of her boot, sending dirt and gravel flying. “Where are you, Abi?”

  “In the horse barn.”

  She strode across the yard and stepped into the darkened building. A shaft of light from the window streamed inside, illuminating dust motes dancing wildly in the air along with tiny bits of straw. Evidence that someone had been cleaning stalls.

  “Where?”

  “Here.” Abi popped her head up from a stall and leaned on the rail, pitchfork in hand.

  “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “Sorry, I was bonding with Princess.” Her eyes widened as she looked Rebecca up and down. “Aren’t you a mess?”

  “Me?” Rebecca glanced down at her clothing. “What about you? You’ve got more straw in your hair than on the ground. And you’re covered with dirt.”

  “Apparently you haven’t looked in a mirror lately. There’s grease all over your face.”

  “Of course there is.
The lawn mower broke down, and I’ve spent the last hour fixing it. I’m now convinced Joe keeps half the equipment around this place running with rubber bands and bubble gum.” She looked at Abi. “What’s your excuse?”

  “Nothing so glamorous here,” Abi said as she stepped out of the empty stall and carefully hung the pitchfork on the wall. “Although I can tell you that I’ve never had so much fun getting dirty.”

  Rebecca laughed.

  “How’s the barn look?” Abi waved a hand around her kingdom. “The horses and I are now on a first-name basis.”

  “You are now a professional mucker. The stalls are beautiful. Even Princess is impressed.”

  “What’s next? Let’s not waste time here chatting.” Abi snapped her fingers. “There’s work to be done.”

  “Julian says dinner is ready.”

  Abi pulled her phone out of her pocket and rubbed the screen on her sleeve. “Oh, my, it really is dinnertime. Why, it’s been hours since lunch.”

  “Quite a lunch it was, too.”

  “Yes. You’re right.” Abi frowned. “Except that with all those extra hands from Elliott Ranch, you know there weren’t any leftovers.”

  “Did you see their faces?” Rebecca asked. “I think they were stunned. Only Gallagher Ranch brings hot gourmet meals out to the ranch hands in the field.”

  “They’ll be standing in line to work with Joe once the word gets out.” Abi yanked off her gloves and tossed them on a stool.

  Rebecca nodded. “Julian has totally redeemed himself, don’t you think?”

  “You’ve obviously forgotten about your stitches.”

  “I haven’t. Then again, I know what it’s like to be crucified for an accident.”

  “True,” Abi said. “You know, I have to admit, this has been a very good couple of days. I am beginning to understand why you like ranch work so much.”

  “It is satisfying, isn’t it? Sunrise to sunset. Nature all around. Man in his element.”

  “Yes, satisfying until I remember three a.m.”

  “What do you mean?” Rebecca grabbed two rags from Joe’s stack of clean work rags and tossed one to Abi, who began to wipe her face.

  “It’s sort of like cowgirl Cinderella. Exactly as you said, toiling away, sunrise to sunset. Only she never gets to actually go to the ball. I mean, it really never stops here, does it? Three a.m. always arrives. You keep going and going and going, in perpetuity. At least with my job, I eventually get to type ‘The End.’” She turned to Rebecca. “Am I right?”