Lori Wick Short Stories, Vol. 4: The Rancher's Lady

by Lori Wick

  “I can believe that. She hardly notices them.”

  “Well, that’s too bad. I’d love to have her come back to us, but that’s being selfish. If she found someone there who would cherish her, we’d be delighted.”

  “It’s probably too soon,” Kyle commented, and Morgan couldn’t help but agree. They talked a little longer and then said their goodbyes.

  Kyle sat back in his chair. He didn’t feel like working at his desk any longer. Years ago Kyle had fallen in love with a woman who considered him only a friend. It had not jaded him for life, but the pain had been intense for years after. Right now his heart clenched as he envisioned Shasta’s face in his mind. It was still paining him the next morning when he sought Shasta out in the barn. He stood on the other side of the horse she was saddling, his height making it easy to see her over the top of the horse’s back.

  “Are you free for dinner on Saturday night?”

  Shasta froze in her boots and looked up at him. With a single knuckle she pushed the brim of her hat higher and continued to stare.

  “Dinner?”

  “Yes, in Jenner, just the two of us.”

  Shasta blinked at him and then smiled. “I would like that, especially if I can wear a dress.”

  Kyle’s rugged features broke into a return smile. “In that case I’ll have on a suit and tie.”

  Shasta went back to work then, her heart light. No thoughts of romance entered her sensible head, but an evening out with Kyle Harrington and a chance to dress up a little was something to anticipate. It made the week seem very short indeed.

  Shasta woke up on Saturday morning and stared into space. How had the time moved so swiftly? Today she was supposed to become Mrs. Frank Iverson. Shasta rolled over in bed and buried her face in her pillow. Why in the world had she agreed to go out tonight? Right now all she wanted was to be alone.

  Such thoughts tortured Shasta as she readied for the day’s work and made her too late to even eat breakfast. Kyle was one of the first persons she saw, and he knew instantly that she was upset. Thanking God that he knew the reason, he decided to keep her as busy as possible. Indeed, she didn’t have a moment to herself until after four o’clock, at which time Kyle approached her.

  “I’d like to leave here about 5:30, Shasta, so you can take off any time.”

  “All right. Are you sure you still want to go?”

  Kyle’s brows rose.

  “I mean,” Shasta stumbled, “it’s been a long day, and I thought you might be tired.”

  Again Kyle only stared at her before saying, “Five-thirty, Shasta.”

  The petite blonde went to her cabin then, but her heart was in a quandary. She was well on her way to wholeness after Frank’s rejection, but unlike the first of the week, a date with Kyle now seemed too personal and romantic.

  “Well, there’s no help for it at this point,” she told the cabin at large.“He’s coming, and you still smell like a horse.”

  With that she readied for a shower and shampoo. She didn’t linger for fear of being late and only partially dried her hair. For the first time since arriving, she didn’t put it back in a braid; a braid never worked well when her hair was wet. She drew the sides back with combs and let the back hang free. She looked lovely when Kyle answered the door, but there was pain behind her eyes. Kyle didn’t miss a thing, but he only commented to the positive, telling her she looked very nice.

  Shasta thanked him demurely and was surprised when he led her to a beautiful dark gray sports car. She hadn’t known he owned such a vehicle.

  “You thought we were going in the truck,” Kyle laughed when he was behind the wheel.

  Shasta smiled a little.“I guess I did. I wouldn’t have minded.”

  Kyle started the car then, and they made the drive in silence. The restaurant was set on a clifftop that overlooked the sea, and Kyle had asked for a table by the window. Shasta took note of the fact that he was known by nearly everyone they passed, and his greeting to all of them was friendly.

  “What are you hungry for?”

  “I don’t know. It all looks so good.”

  “It’s not Friday, but the fish is great; so is the beef.”

  “Harrington beef?” Shasta asked.

  “What else?” Kyle said with a grin.

  A few minutes later they ordered, Shasta going with a steak and Kyle opting for chicken. Their waiter had just brought them an appetizer when Kyle asked Shasta how she liked the ranch.

  “It’s beautiful, Kyle. It’s a summer I’ll never forget.”

  “But you look forward to going home?”

  Shasta stared down at the beach as the waves crashed endlessly against the sand.

  “I don’t know,” she finally admitted.“In some ways I wish it was more than just summer work, and in others I miss Burbarra so much that I ache.”

  Kyle didn’t comment. Shasta finally looked at him.

  “It was a hard day today.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Shasta hesitated, and Kyle cut back in.

  “Don’t even answer that, Shasta, if it’s going to ruin your evening.”

  “No, it’s all right, Kyle. I haven’t talked with anyone, and I think it might be nice, but that’s not the way you want to spend your evening.”

  Kyle shook his head slightly. “Why was it a hard day?”

  It was all Shasta needed.

  “I was to be married today. At eleven o’clock this morning I was going to marry Frank Iverson.”

  “What happened?”

  “DeeDee Wharton happened. They had dated years before I met him, and after we’d become engaged, she returned to Brisbane and Frank fell back in love with her. I’m only glad it didn’t happen later, you know, after we’d said our vows.”

  Kyle nodded.

  “And that’s why you left Australia?”

  “Yes. I saw Frank and DeeDee every week, and Morgan told me to go. I didn’t want to at first, but I think it’s been very therapeutic. Like I said, I’m torn about going back.”

  “You might not be in another six weeks. Well, more like eight with roundup.”

  Shasta nodded, and a moment later their salads arrived. The food was marvelous, and the conversation never waned. Shasta learned that Kyle was nearly 45 and the oldest in his family. Shasta elaborated on her parents’ deaths, and they both shared memories of their childhoods and the way they had come to Christ at a young age. Kyle was a wonderful dinner companion, and Shasta was very thankful that she hadn’t talked herself out of going.

  They were still talking when they arrived back at the ranch, and Kyle asked Shasta in for coffee. The ranch house was gorgeous: warm and homey and beautifully decorated. He told Shasta he’d had it all professionally done, but she was both pleased and amazed to find that Kyle himself had made the cake she was eating. He brewed a mean cup of coffee as well, and it was after eleven when she said she had better turn in or she’d never be able to get going for church.

  Kyle walked her back to her cabin, and once at the door asked, “If I asked you out again, Miss McGregor, would you go?”

  “Well now,” Shasta told him. “It depends on the reason. Would you be asking me because you feel sorry about what I’ve told you or because you enjoyed my company?”

  “I am sorry for your hurt, Shasta,” Kyle told her sincerely, “but if I asked you out again, it would be for the sole reason that I find you delightful to talk with.”

  Shasta smiled.“In that case, I hope you ask.”

  Kyle smiled as well and then thanked her.

  “For what?” Shasta had no idea.

  “For wearing your hair in a braid when we work. If you didn’t, we wouldn’t get a thing done.”

  They both said goodnight on Shasta’s light laughter.

  The first date was the start of a pattern. Shasta and Kyle went to dinner every Saturday night. Most nights they dressed more casually, but each evening was long, with good food and hours of talk. An odd thing was happenin
g in Shasta’s heart. Frank Iverson was receding more and more every week into the back of her mind, but her thoughts and feelings for Kyle did not involve romance or marriage. It was just utterly delightful to have a male friend, one who cared for her and with whom it was easy to talk. Thoughts of returning to Australia never entered her head, so she was never forced to ask herself how she would leave him or the ranch.

  Kyle, on the other hand, was in a totally different camp. By roundup he realized that he had fallen very much in love with Shasta McGregor. He didn’t think she was still pining for her Australian, but like the other woman from years ago, it would seem that she saw him as more of a friend than anything else. He didn’t know if God had something more for him, but he prayed that if He did, it would reveal itself sometime during the two-week roundup.

  A stir of excitement ran among the hands after the appointments with the hotel guests ended. Marcy and her husband, Leroy, always went on roundup, but this year Shasta would need the wagon as well, so Leroy would stay home, and Shasta would bunk with Marcy. At times an all-male camp was interesting for Shasta, but since she’d worked with the lot of them for weeks, she blended right in. Marcy was old enough to be a mother and maybe grandmother to all of them, so she thought little of their bare chests and trips into the bushes.

  Peter was still doing his level best to get a date with her, but Shasta could not be swayed. She merely smiled without answering and ofttimes debated if she should tell the 19-year-old that she was 13 years his senior. On the second night Kyle came to her rescue. It looked as if Peter was going to pursue her the entire drive, but after supper, with all the other hands in attendance, Kyle asked Shasta to join him for a walk. Quite certain they were being watched, he even picked up her hand as they wandered away.

  “Thanks,” Shasta told him when they were out a ways.

  “You’re welcome,” Kyle told her but kept her hand. It felt warm and comforting to Shasta, so she didn’t pull away. They walked along for some time, neither feeling a need to talk, but Shasta was doing plenty of thinking. The time had crept upon her so suddenly. She was scheduled to leave in less than two weeks. What had happened to the summer?

  She suddenly glanced down at the hand holding hers. How would she walk away from this man? While on their second date, weeks ago, Kyle had told Shasta that he felt he waited too long to marry. I’m pretty settled in, he’d said that night. I assume that any woman who would have me would also want children, and I can’t imagine starting a family at my age. I guess I’m thankful that God has made me content to be as I am.

  His words had not been a problem then, but now they chilled Shasta to the bone. As carefully as possible she let her hand slip from Kyle’s. She glanced away from him in an attempt to seem casual, so she missed the longing in Kyle’s eyes. They both began thought patterns that nearly echoed each other’s, but were both all wrong.

  It’s time to build up a wall, Kyle, old boy. She’s going to leave here, and it’s going to kill you if you don’t stop this longing.

  Shasta’s line of reasoning was no different. He’s had all summer to find his heart, but by his own admission, he’s happy alone. Get your mind back in order, Shasta, or getting on the plane is going to tear you apart.

  The sun was dropping fast, bringing with it the cool night temperature. They turned back toward camp, both still silent, alone, and miserable with their thoughts.

  “Okay, Bennett,” Kyle yelled as the cows surged forward. “Let’s head home.”

  The driving force behind the Harrington Cattle Company followed more slowly, glad to be at the rear even though they were so near the ranch. The last two weeks had been some of the hardest of Kyle’s life. Loving Shasta and yet trying to keep his distance had been almost more than he could take. It was late on Sunday, and her flight was scheduled for the next afternoon. In some ways he was relieved, since he would no longer need to pretend, but he knew that it was going to take more than a few days, possibly years, before he would forget.

  His mind conjured up a sudden image of her calling and asking if he needed her the next summer. The thought alone caused his eyes to close in pain. I’m too old to go through this, Lord. I’ve never dated around. I’ve never been the type to fall in and out of love with the changing of the seasons. It hurts too much.

  “Stampede!”

  The shout rang out, and Kyle opened his eyes in a hurry. To the west and a quarter of a mile away, more than a hundred head of cattle were running hard away from the main body of the herd. Shouting to Brian and Shasta to take the rest in, Kyle reined his horse hard and followed Scott, Cal, and Bennett at a breakneck speed. His rifle was already drawn, and he was circling the runaways with experience born of years in the saddle.

  The hands taking the herd in heard the gunshots and shouts as the strays were put in place, but they had ridden so hard and fast that they were nearly out of sight. At one point three shots went up in a row, and both Brian and Shasta stood in their stirrups to see. A second later the shots came again, and Brian, who still hadn’t seen anything, began to shout.

  “Ride for the ranch, Shasta! Call for an ambulance!”

  She wheeled her horse and dug in her heels and a moment later she was flying toward the ranch that could easily be seen in the distance. Her only prayer, selfish as it was, was to beg God not to let it be Kyle.

  “How is he?” Shasta asked Kyle’s surgeon as she and Brian met him in the hallway at the hospital.

  “He’s stable but still out. If it had only been the leg, I wouldn’t have been too concerned, but he took a major blow to the head.”

  Shasta began to tremble. She didn’t even feel Brian’s arm come around her.

  “I need to see him,” she said, tears filling her eyes.

  “He’s still in recovery, but someone will come for you as soon as he’s moved.” The doctor touched her shoulder and moved away, and Shasta turned helplessly to the foreman.

  “I never told him, Brian. I never told him how I felt.”

  “You’ll get your chance, Shasta; it’s all right. Kyle’s as tough as they come. You just wait and see.”

  Brian looked up to see the others arriving: Leroy and Marcy, Jean and her husband, as well as most of the hands. They began a night-long vigil in the waiting room, and some of them were finally allowed to see a still-sleeping Kyle. Shasta felt better just standing next to him, but her need to talk with him was so great that all she could do was cry. Jean finally led her to her car and took her back to the ranch. She spoke words of comfort, but Shasta knew that what she needed most was to be alone and pray. Even after Jean walked her to her cabin, Shasta did not sleep but fell to her knees and asked God for comfort, mercy, and grace. She prayed the night away and then fell into an exhausted sleep that lasted until late in the day on Monday. She finally made it to the hospital on Monday evening, her heart calm. Not until she was alone with Kyle on Tuesday morning did he wake up and speak with her. Shasta had been sitting by his bed for the best part of 30 minutes when she saw that his eyes were open.

  “What day is it?” he croaked.

  “Tuesday.”

  He stared at her a long minute. Finally, “Your flight left yesterday. Why are you still here?”

  Shasta shrugged helplessly, thinking he would know.“I’m not exactly sure myself,” she finally managed.

  Kyle’s hand moved on the sheet, turning palm up, his fingers reaching. Shasta gently placed her hand within his grasp.

  “If you can wait until I get out of this bed, I’ll give you a reason.”

  Tears flooded Shasta’s eyes and streamed down her face. Kyle reached and gently caught a drop on his finger. He then took her hand again and fell asleep as he held it. Shasta lay her forehead on the edge of the mattress and sobbed with relief and the love she’d held inside. She’d been so afraid of his rejection, and now she felt tired all over. When the nurse came to check on Kyle just five minutes later, they were both sound asleep.

  Shasta passed Marcy on the way into the ra
nch house a week and a half later. She hadn’t seen much of Kyle in that time because she’d spent so much time working with Brian and Scott at the ranch. The summer help had gone home, and she felt the best place she could be was working and lightening any anxiety Kyle might have over the herd. He’d been home a few days, but with his leg in a cast up to his thigh, he was pretty immobile. He’d also been sleeping much of the time, but he’d sent someone to find her that afternoon.

  “He’s in the living room,” Marcy told her, “and I can see by his face that he means business.”

  Shasta nodded, thanked her, and moved inside. She left her hat in the front hall and moved soft-footedly to the edge of the living room.

  Kyle was sitting on one end of the sofa, his leg stretched out over the cushions. He had a perfect view of the door, and for a moment they just stared at each other.

  “Come here, Shasta,” he called in a soft, low voice.

  Shasta came halfway across the room and stopped by a chair. Kyle’s hand came up, and he motioned to her with one finger, but Shasta shook her head.

  “I think I’d better stay here.” She felt and sounded oddly nervous.

  It was Kyle’s turn to shake his head. “Come here, Shasta.”

  Shasta came a bit closer but eyed him warily. His look was intense as he held her eyes with his own. Again he motioned to her, and Shasta came to what she thought was a safe distance. She was wrong. Kyle’s hand shot out and captured her wrist. A moment later she was sitting on the edge of the sofa, held close in Kyle’s arms while he kissed her.

  “What was that?” she gasped when he finally raised his head.

  “A reason to stay. And if it isn’t enough, maybe this will be.” His face was still close, his voice hushed.“I love you, Shasta McGregor.”

  “Oh, Kyle,” she breathed, and he kissed her again.

  Kyle suddenly broke the kiss. “Do you want to be married here or in Australia?”

  Shasta laughed.“I take it you’re asking me to marry you?”