A Father's Stake

by Mary Anne Wilson

  “Oh, man,” Adam said. “I am really sorry.”

  “Don’t be, it’s not final. She wants to try and see if she can make a go of it on the land. If she can’t, I told her my offer’s waiting, and if she can....” He shrugged. “That won’t happen. She won’t be able to do it.”

  “How so?”

  “You know she’s from L.A., and, as far as I can tell, she’s never even been near a farm or a ranch.”

  “So, you’re okay with just sitting back and waiting?”

  “No,” he said honestly. “I can’t do that. I’m going to keep close enough to make sure she realizes she’s in over her head sooner rather than later.”

  “That’s your plan, to be negative about everything?”

  “No, realistic. There’s a huge difference.”

  “If you say so. If I can do anything to help, let me know, okay?”

  “Sure, but one question?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Why didn’t you tell Gage about you and Faith being married?”

  “Because I figured you’d understand, having been there.” He stopped, heaving a huge sigh. “Boy, I’m sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Hey, no problem.” Jack meant it. People watched what they said around him too much. Life was what it was, and they shouldn’t have to censor themselves for fear of offending him. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and Gage will hurry up and make a big splash of a wedding.”

  “Wishful thinking,” Adam said.

  Jack stared at the closed door long after his brother had gone. He found himself thinking about Grace again. If things had been different, he would have genuinely hoped she’d make a go of it on his grandpa’s ranch. She was excited, her eyes bright whenever she looked out over the land. He slowly straightened and flexed his shoulders. Tomorrow morning, they’d do the perimeter ride, about a third of it. He’d make it last for at least three or four days, giving him plenty of time to be honest with Grace. He’d lay out the way ranches operated and all the work they required, especially one that needed a full overhaul. Day after tomorrow. He again sat down behind his desk.

  He shook his head. When was the last time he’d actually looked forward to something? If he thought about the future, all he’d seen was a void, something he had to fill any way he could. But not now. He looked at the paperwork on the desk and ignored it. Instead, he left as soon as Maureen had closed up the office.

  Standing on the walkway, letting people pass him by, he gazed out at the town. Adam was married, Gage was looking forward to his marriage and an instant family when he and Merry adopted Erin, meanwhile, Jack was going to take a ride with Grace Evans. A small step, he told himself. But an important one. And at the end, he’d have the ranch.

  * * *

  WHEN JACK RODE his horse up the drive toward the old adobe house, leading a gentle Bay behind him, dawn was just spreading in the east. He didn’t see anyone around. Then the front door opened, and Grace slipped out onto the porch. She was dressed in jeans, a pink tank top and what looked like boots, actual boots on her feet. She waved to him, then headed down the steps. He could see her smile even from a distance.

  He stopped by the porch, dismounted, and undid the Bay’s reins from the loop on his saddle. As he turned to Grace, who was right behind him, he thought for a minute that another Grace was coming out of the house. The woman wore jeans, too, with the same slender frame, but her pale hair had as much gray as blonde, and was only long enough to brush her neck. She was about two inches taller than Grace, and he guessed this was most likely her mother.

  The woman smiled at him, and Jack noticed her eyes were a silvery-blue, not violet. “Good morning,” he said to the two of them.

  “Hi,” Grace said, and lifted her foot. “See, boots. Safe from snakes.”

  “Very nice boots.”

  Grace put her foot down. “Lilly’s still asleep on the lovely mattress Oscar sent. She’s worn out from never leaving that horse’s side all day yesterday. She would have slept in the stable last night if I had let her.”

  “So, she likes Mosi?”

  “Absolutely, and thank you so much for getting her over here for me.”

  He waved off her thanks. “Not a problem.” He glanced at the other woman. “I take it you’re Grace’s mother?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Grace said. “Yes, this is my mother, Gabriella Michaels. Mom, Jack Carson.”

  “Very nice to meet you,” she said pleasantly, then she frowned. “I am very sorry for the way this turned out for you, but I can promise you that this property will be in good hands.”

  “That it is,” Parrish said as he came out of the stable. “Very good hands.”

  Jack felt outnumbered and decided to forego a comment. “I brought a horse for you,” he said to Grace. “Gentle, a good ride. My mother rides her occasionally, but she needs exercise.”

  He watched Grace eye her mount. “She looks fine.”

  Parrish spoke to Gabriella. “Can you come and help me gather up the toys the child left down here yesterday? Don’t want that pretty horse to choke on a three-inch toy stallion.”

  Gabriella laughed, and with a wave to Grace and Jack, she took off with Parrish into the stables. Grace went to check on her daughter, then came back out with a small bottle of sun block. Jack watched as she started to rub it into her arms and shoulders. As if she felt him watching her, she held the tube out to him. “Want some?”

  He shook his head. “No, thanks.” He glanced at her bare head. “You’d do well to think about getting a hat, something light, maybe straw.”

  Her hand went to her pale hair, touched by streaks of gold from the rising sun. “Oh, yes, I found one.” She ran back inside, reappearing with a floppy straw hat. She pulled it on, the wide brim all but hiding her face. “This will do.”

  “Let’s get going,” he said and turned to the horses. He watched Grace approach her mount, cautiously reaching out to touch the animal’s muzzle. She jumped back when the horse shook its head and whinnied. “Just take it slow,” he told her.

  She nodded, her eyes never leaving the horse. “What...what’s her name?”

  “Lucy,” he said, but Grace didn’t make a move to get on her back. “Slowly go around to her left side, and get up in the saddle.”

  “Sure,” she agreed, but without much conviction. Slowly, she made her way around the horse, grabbed the saddle horn and the back of the saddle, then tried to hoist herself up. She didn’t go more than a few inches before her boots hit the packed earth again.

  Jack moved behind her. “Let me give you a boost,” he said, spanning her slender waist with both hands. “Now, pull,” he instructed her, at the same time swinging her up. She felt light as air, and he could feel her breathing. Then she was mounted, and the connection was gone.

  “Okay, okay,” she said, a bit breathlessly. “Got it.”

  “Good.” He stroked the horse’s neck. “Now, hold the reins loosely. She’ll follow my horse, just give her her head.”

  “How?” she asked, her hands gripping the saddle horn.

  He almost laughed at her question, but instead, he picked up the loose reins and held them out to her. “Just hold them loosely, and she’ll do what she needs to do.”

  * * *

  GRACE TOOK A deep breath, accepted the reins and tried to relax. Jack went to get his horse, swung up into the saddle in one easy motion, then came up beside her. “Ready?”

  She really wished she’d told him she was allergic to horses or something like that, or maybe that she’d never ridden at all. The truth was, her only rides had been a disaster, but then again, she’d been very young, and scared to death of the horse. Now she just felt awkward and a little afraid. She didn’t know what she’d do if the horse suddenly took off. “Yes, I’m ready,” she lied, staring at her hands holding the reins.

  “Grace,” Jack said.

  She made herself turn and look at him. He was smiling at her, that dimple showing up again. “What’s so funny?
”

  “You. You look like you’re going to your execution. Just relax. Let your hands relax with the reins, and breathe. Just breathe. Your horse will go wherever mine does. I promise.”

  She flushed, knowing her face had to be scarlet. She’d thought she could pull this off, but she’d been wrong. “Easy for you to say,” she muttered.

  Jack clicked his tongue and his horse started off. Without any prompting, her horse followed Jack’s mount, even when Jack headed west. Maybe she would be okay, after all. She’d just act as if she knew what she was doing, but as they skirted the stand of trees and made their way into the open pastures, Grace felt every step the horse took. She tensed each time they came to a rise in the land and she began to wonder how long she could stand the pummeling against the saddle before she begged Jack to stop and let her walk.

  “We’ll head toward the west,” Jack said over his shoulder. “Then north, toward that boundary near the mountains.”

  She made herself look ahead, instead of at the ground passing beneath her. The mountains were impressive. She thought she caught sight of the Rez, but wasn’t sure. The distant shapes shimmered, almost floating into the turquoise sky. “How far is it to the boundary?” she asked, and could hear the breathlessness in her voice. Thank goodness Jack didn’t seem to notice.

  “Not far. Once we get there, we’ll head along the boundary and see how far we can get before the heat gets too bad.” He turned to meet her gaze. “How are you doing?”

  “Fine, fine,” she said, looking away from the man and his dark eyes before he could read the lies there.

  “I have water if you need it,” he called back.

  “Good to know.”

  They rode in silence, Jack just a bit ahead as they kept to a narrow trail cutting through the weeds and scattered low shrubs. Grace watched Jack, the way his muscles rippled under his thin cotton shirt. He looked as assured and confident on his horse as she was uneasy. But he’d been riding most of his life. Maybe in a few years, Lilly would be a good rider, probably a lot better than Grace would ever be.

  “We’re going to cut northwest,” Jack called back to her. “And there’s a bit of climbing, but the horses know the way.” He pointed into the distance. “That way.”

  Her horse slowed as the ground got rockier, and Jack seemed to be getting farther and farther ahead. “Come on, get going,” she urged the Bay, but it didn’t alter its pace.

  Jack twisted in the saddle to look back at her, obviously sensing the problem. “Just gently nudge her with your knees. Light touch. Hold the reins loosely, resting your hands on your thighs. And find the horse’s rhythm. Every horse has one, just find it and go with it.”

  If her horse had a rhythm, Grace couldn’t find it, but after a bit, she felt herself give in to the jarring and rolling. Her misery was offset by the spectacular scenery, and as they got higher, she realized they were almost above the buttes and mesas, now far off in the distance behind them. “My property runs up this far?” she asked.

  “No,” Jack called over his shoulder and kept going, almost circling the last butte, but the horses took the incline easily. Amazingly, as the sweetness of pine touched the air, she realized that she hadn’t worried about the horse, or staying on for a while. But when Jack slowed again and dismounted, she was more than a bit relieved.

  He dropped his reins on the ground and his horse stayed put as he came back to her. “Let’s get off for a bit so I can show you some things around here. He looked up at her and when she didn’t move, mostly because she realized her legs were almost numb, he put up both hands. “Come on,” he said, spanning her waist and lifting her up and over, then off the horse.

  Her legs were weak enough that if Jack let her go right then, she would probably have fallen on her face. But he didn’t let go, just shifted his hold on her to her shoulders, steadying her.

  “You need your land legs,” he said with a wry smile.

  Boy, did she ever. She tried to take a step, but found herself reaching to grab his forearms. “For Pete’s sake,” she muttered, “This is worse than the one and only time I was on a boat and got off on the dock.” She’d save the explanation that she had fallen to her knees and couldn’t get up.

  “It happens to everyone when they haven’t ridden for a while,” he said. “We went a bit too long without stopping. I’m sorry.”

  She tipped her head to look up into his face. He was sorry. Well, she was embarrassed, especially when she realized that she liked the feel of his hands at her waist, his touch on her shoulders. That was crazy! She shook her head. Even with a hat, maybe she had sunstroke.

  “Let me know when you’re steady,” he said.

  She tested her legs, felt they were more stable. “I think I’m okay. You can let me go.”

  The instant Jack released her she felt an odd sense of loss. Immediately she pushed it aside. Her life was complicated enough right now.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “WHERE TO NOW?” she asked. She’d been so intent on the horse and riding, and Jack, that she had no idea where they were, other than closer to the mountains. They’d climbed quite high to get here, and massive rocks rose up out of the ground.

  Jack secured the horses to a small tree near a boulder as big as a car, then came back over to Grace. “Okay, let’s go,” he said.

  She fell in step with him, her back and calf muscles sore as they climbed a rough trail that looked as if it had been well used over the years. Just when she thought she couldn’t go any further, Jack turned and held out a hand to her, pulling her gently up to a level lookout. When she turned back to see how far they’d come, the view almost overwhelmed her. She inhaled the sweetness of the air and gazed at the land below. The idea of it being hers was getting more and more real and she loved it.

  Then she realized Jack had said they weren’t on her property now. Turning to him, she found him studying her. “Spectacular, isn’t it?” he said, his eyes narrowed to the glare of the sun.

  “Yes, but you said we aren’t on my land anymore.”

  “We cut off back a ways. I’ll show you the surveying stake when we go back down.”

  “Then why are we up here?”

  “Because we can see all of the ranch land from here.”

  Jack pointed to the west and a huge pine, knotted and distorted by wind, heat and storms. “That’s the top northern edge of the ranch.” He walked in the opposite direction and stopped almost at the end of the level lookout, waiting for her to catch up. No trees or rock formations blocked the view from here. “Now you can see where you are.”

  She looked down and she actually thought she could make out the old adobe far off in the distance. The tree stands, the dry pastures. “Is that the house?”

  “Yes, it is.” He turned and pointed up toward the mountain behind them. “The Rez is up there, and the Rez land goes down the mountain and ends at my parents’ property line.”

  She was staggered by the amount of land she now owned. More than she’d ever dreamed of. Then again, she’d hardly even imagined having a house of her own. Jack motioned her to the edge of the lookout and dropped to the ground, letting his feet dangle over the side. He indicated the spot beside him on the rock. “Sit,” he said.

  Carefully, she inched forward, then slowly sat down. Lowering her legs to dangle over the side made her stomach lurch. She had no idea she was afraid of heights until she saw the sheer drop-off. Bracing herself, she sat very still, focusing her gaze up and away. No way could she look straight down.

  “Over there,” Jack was saying, pointing to a huge spread with sprawling green pastures that flowed from a central grouping of buildings. She didn’t have to ask. It was his father’s ranch. She’d only gotten a quick glimpse on their earlier walk. Now she was stunned at the size of the operation.

  “That’s incredible,” she said and meant it. “It’s like a piece of art, like American Gothic or something.”

  He chuckled softly. “I think you’re right. It’s been to
tally transformed from the land Grandpa came down to claim. It was raw territory back then. It took three years before he could bring his kids and my grandmother down to live there. All the irrigation, the plowing, everything was done from that point on. He dug the wells, fenced everything, raised stock and seven kids. All on his own.”

  * * *

  JACK COULD FEEL Grace watching him and listening closely. But he didn’t take his eyes off the ranch spread out below. “It was nothing but work for everyone. My mother used to follow the tractor and break up dirt clods along with my two uncles when she was about five years old. MawMaw, my grandmother, cleaned houses in the town before it was a town.” He felt himself drifting back, the stories of his grandfather flitting through his mind.

  “You must have been really proud of your grandparents.”

  That didn’t begin to explain how he’d felt. And still did. Or how devastating it had been when his father’s stupid actions had lost a huge chunk of that heritage. He pushed back and stood. “Are you up for a bit more climbing?” he asked.

  Carefully she scuttled backward, away from the drop-off, then scrambled to her feet. “I guess.”

  He moved off, and Grace followed him up the rough steps cut into the granite bluff. It was just a short climb to an area rimmed on three sides with huge boulders and sheer rock facings. Two or three charred areas held the remnants of recent campfires, and a torn piece of red fabric had been mounted like a flag on a long stick and shoved in a cleft in one of the boulders.

  “Kids still come here,” Jack said as he kicked at some of the ashes.

  He pointed to the far northwest, then moved his hand in a half circle in front of them. “If you stand right here, every acre of land you can see was once, or still is, Wolf land. Some of it went for the town, the rest was broken up into parcels for each of the seven Wolf kids. Three of them built on their land, my mother, and her two brothers, Aaron and Daniel. The other kids branched out, but kept the land. An uncle in Minnesota still has his and leases it out for grazing.” He didn’t add that the only piece that had been lost from the Wolf Grant was hers. Three hundred acres, the smallest spread, yet the most important to him.