He turned to her. “Done.” He narrowed his eyes and studied her for a long moment. “How are you feeling today? Sore muscles?”
Was it that obvious? “Okay, and yes, I am sore.” She didn’t mention how much her bottom hurt when she sat down. “Don’t they have softer saddles?”
He chuckled. “That is a soft saddle.”
“Oh,” was all she said before she took Lucy’s reins from him and walked the horse out.
Before she could figure out how to ask Jack to give her a boost up again, he was behind her, his hands on her waist, then she was being lifted. She sank onto the saddle, got her feet positioned, and looked down at Jack. “I promise, I’ll do that myself pretty soon.”
A smile shadowed his lips, just enough to hint at his dimple. “When you grow a foot or so?”
“Low blow,” she countered with her own smile. “And I do mean low.”
He laughed, then after making sure she had her reins in hand, he nudged his horse. “Here we go,” he said, and they set off toward the east.
* * *
A COUPLE OF DAYS HAD PASSED, and Jack and Grace were starting out for their last perimeter ride of the morning. Grace’s horse matched Gizmo’s pace, Jack looked so relaxed in the saddle she smiled to herself. It felt good to be out here with Jack. To have him tell her stories about the land, about the people. They’d gone past the entry to the Rez the day before, but hadn’t crossed into that land. Then they’d headed down and met a rancher whose land was directly across from the old ranch.
They hadn’t talked about Jack wanting to buy the ranch and Grace was grateful for that. She hoped it would be the same today.
* * *
JACK RODE IN SILENCE, fully aware of Grace behind him. He’d been awake a long time the last few nights, and when he finally slept, his rest was fitful and anything but refreshing. He’d finally given up trying to sleep in the loft last night, and had gone down to his office and stretched out on the couch there. But even when he got to sleep, he felt edgy. Images of Grace mingled painfully with fading images of Robyn.
He hated that. He never wanted to forget Robyn. But in the past few weeks, it had been harder and harder to remember things clearly. The impressions were there, but they were blurred, without their usual brilliance. Smiles floated just out of reach. The ache of losing her was less acute. Yet he desperately didn’t want to feel as if she was gone completely from him. Ever.
He’d finally given up sleeping an hour before dawn. On impulse, he’d dressed quickly and driven to the cemetery set back on a hill on the north side of town. He found Robyn’s marker easily. He’d been there so often in the past, but recently his visits had stretched out. The flowers he’d placed there were almost dead. He tossed them to one side, and hated the fact that he hadn’t thought to bring any fresh ones.
He stood looking down at the headstone.
Robyn Mays Carson
always in our hearts
A sculpted image of a single daisy had been fashioned at the bottom of the monument. Her favorite flower. He sat near her grave for a long time, watching the sun spreading its colors on the eastern horizon. So many times he’d gone there to experience the connection they’d always had, but today it was harder to find. He felt a painful tug in his heart. No one had told him about the fading of memories.
“I will always love you,” he’d whispered, then walked away, feeling as if he’d been leaving a part of himself in that silent place.
Now he was looking toward the east again, with Grace so close he could hear the soft release of air when her horse shifted or jerked. “We won’t climb today,” he said over his shoulder.
“Good to know,” she said.
He slowed, waited for her to get beside him. The new hat she’d bought protected her face and part of her shoulders with its broad straw brim. “How’re the sore muscles?” he asked.
She shifted in the saddle a bit awkwardly and he knew she was still having a problem finding her rhythm. “Do you want to walk for a while? You’ve got your boots, and it’s pretty level the way we’re going.”
She got herself down almost before the words were out of his mouth. “Yes, walking would be nice,” she said.
He barely suppressed a smile. “Good. I’d like to walk.” He looked around, spotted one of the windmills on the pasture land and led his horse toward it, Grace and Lucy following. “Let’s tie them here, and we can come back in a while to get them.”
“That sounds fine,” she said.
He came to her, a foot of space separating them. “We’ll take it easy.”
“Thank you for being merciful,” she said with a smile that he found he looked forward to when he was around her.
“You’re doing better riding, you know,” he said as they started off across the dried grasses.
“Thank you. I feel like I’m making progress. It’s just I’m so out of my element around here, sometimes. I don’t think I’ve ever been an animal person, but now I’m riding a horse, and there’s Mosi and the cat in the stables. I’m just glad I haven’t seen any other creatures...like snakes.”
They stopped and he found himself laughing softly at her. “What?” she asked.
He impulsively touched her chin with the tip of his forefinger. “You and snakes. You got the boots and I saw Lilly and your mom both have boots. You’re doing just fine.” He felt a wobble in her chin, and drew back. “That sounded patronizing, didn’t it?”
Her lavender eyes met his. “A bit.”
“Sorry again,” he said, taking off his cap to rake his fingers through his hair. He tugged his hat back on and exhaled. “It’s my family’s fault.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“You know, two brothers, and a ton of cousins all around this area, you get used to teasing and poking fun at each other, because they’ll do it to you at the drop of a hat. And take your hat, too.”
She laughed, thankfully, and so did he. Laughing felt so good for a change. “That’s filed under acquired life knowledge.”
“Oh, so that’s the title they give it, not...surviving your crazy relatives?”
“It’s probably a tossup,” she said.
He looked ahead of them and changed plan midstream. “Tell you what, instead of going to the lower eastern pastures, would you mind if we headed higher again. I promise it won’t be too far up and we won’t go near any ledges.”
“What for?” she asked, the smile gone.
“Do you want to know where the name Wolf Lake came from?”
She cocked her head, the rising sun shooting her hair with a halo of gold, and he literally felt his breath catch in his chest. “I wondered why it’s called Wolf Lake and not Wolf Desert or Wolf Butte or Wolf whatever.”
“We aren’t exactly surrounded by water, are we?”
“I noticed,” she said with a soft lift of her lips.
He looked away for a moment, then back at her again. “I’d like to take you to the lake, today, since it’s our last ride and all.”
“I’d love to see the lake,” she said eagerly. Then a thought occurred to her. “Is this a joke?”
“No, it’s not. We really do have a Wolf Lake.”
“Okay,” she said.
They turned and retraced their steps back to the horses.
Without thinking about it, he caught Grace around the waist and lifted her into the saddle. “I think I need a stool or something,” she said, settling herself.
“Good idea.” He wasn’t about to mention how the feel of her in his hands was both pleasurable and unsettling for him.
They headed east, then cut sharply north and started to climb, zigzagging back and forth on well worn trails.
“We’re going the back way so we stay away from any drop-offs,” he said over his shoulder. “Just give your horse her head and she’ll be good for you.”
“Thank you.”
They rode until he knew they couldn’t go any farther on the horses. “We’ll leave the horses here,” he said,
getting off and tying the reins to a gnarled tree near the rocks.
“Okay,” Grace said, sliding down by herself, then handing him the reins. “Now, where’s the lake?”
He pointed up. “Just a bit farther, but we need to do it on foot.”
The narrow trail wound back to the west, then finally leveled out into an area about half a mile across and a mile deep, enclosed on three sides by slick stone walls that flowed up and into the mountains. A generous grassy section led to the ledge. He carefully steered Grace away from the direction of the open side, and made sure she was looking at the browned grasses that ran over the floor of the space. He motioned to her, out in front of them. “Wolf Lake,” he announced.
She almost snorted. “Oh, come on, you said it wasn’t a joke.”
“It’s not,” he said, walking farther into an area of long grass that moved slightly in the mild breeze.
“No, no, no, you said there was a lake, period.”
“No, I didn’t. I said it’s not a joke, and this is Wolf Lake.”
She shook her head. “Sure, okay.”
“No, really, when the moon is full, it causes an optical illusion that forms an odd shadow from the peaks above. It spreads across the grass and turns it dark, and when the moon creeps up over the mountains, it shines on the grass. If there’s a wind, the shadow looks like dark, shimmering water. It’s an optical illusion, and it only happens at a full moon. Even then it doesn’t always work. Maybe six times a year it’s perfect.”
She exhaled heavily. “Why didn’t you say it was just a trick of the eye?”
“Would you have come if I’d told you that?”
“Probably not,” she admitted, but didn’t turn to leave. She walked into the clearing, the crunch of dry grass under her booted feet. “I guess it could look like water if you narrowed your eyes and the moon was right, and the sky was dark, and...etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.”
“You’re being sarcastic, but it actually does look like a lake. I was up here a lot as a kid.”
“At night?”
“That’s the only time you can see it, around midnight, when the full moon clears the mountains.”
She turned to him. “Let me guess, you used that line on girls when you were a teenager, didn’t you. ‘Come with me to see the secret lake?’ and they fell for it, didn’t they?”
She had him there. Again, he was glad he didn’t blush. “Okay, I did, a couple of times.” A powerful memory rose up in him. Robyn and him coming up here before he left for college. Sitting side by side, talking about their future, the one they dreamed they’d have. The house, the kids, each other.
He turned quickly, not sure what to do, and headed toward an opening in the west side of the rocky walls. He heard Grace coming after him, but he didn’t look back. He stepped through the low opening onto a secondary ledge that overlooked part of the valley to the west. He crossed to the edge to stare out into the distance, knowing Grace wouldn’t follow.
But she did. He could feel her presence, until, at last, her arm brushed his. “I thought you’d rather jump than be on a cliff like this?” he said without looking at her.
That made her chuckle. “I never said I’d jump.”
“You said that heights bothered you.”
“They do, but I can handle it as long as I look into the distance and not down.”
“My brothers snuck out of the house when they were maybe ten and twelve and came up here after a rain. They ended up hanging from an outcropping about ten feet below here.”
She gasped. “They fell?”
“No, they were climbing the face. It had rained and it was slick and they were idiots.”
“What happened to them?”
“Grandpa had a feeling they were in trouble, not sure if it was something supernatural or if he just knew Adam and Gage and what they could get up to. He led a party of some friends to rescue them. The only problem they had was facing my mother and father afterward.”
“They were lucky,” she breathed.
Jack pointed to the northwest, to a blur of buildings with various shapes and angles. “See over there, about our height, against the low mountains?”
She looked. “What is that?”
“The Rez. It’s the side view, the oldest part. I never could figure out why the People started building there instead of in the valley. But they did, and that’s where Grandpa was raised. His people were pretty dominant among the first comers. Lots of Wolfs and Wolf relations around.”
“When did they settle there?”
“There are two stories, both passed down through the People. One is that they arrived after a massacre by soldiers in the late seventeen hundreds, and chose that location because of its good defensive position. The other story tells of them migrating off government land in Oklahoma by their own choice. I’m not sure which is the truth, but either way, they’ve probably been there a couple of hundred years.”
“Wow,” she breathed. “And you can trace your roots that far back?”
“If I wanted to, I could,” he said. “But that’s up to Mom. She’s got that genealogy thing down pat.”
“What about your father’s people?”
“Irish, English, some German, I’m told. But he’s not into heritage.” He knew the bitterness he felt had edged into his voice. “Never was, never will be—he can’t understand why it’s important.”
“I can’t trace my roots back more than two generations,” she said wistfully. He moved then, to sit on the edge and let his feet hang over the side. Again Grace surprised him. He felt her hand on his shoulder, a bit unsteady, but she slowly sank down beside him, crossing her legs instead of dangling them over the edge.
“You surprise me,” he admitted, still not looking at her.
Her hand moved from his shoulder. “I surprise myself sometimes. I never thought I’d be out here, on a ranch, and actually riding a horse.” She exhaled softly, and the sound ran riot over his nerve endings. “But it’s something you’ve done all your life.”
“All my life,” he echoed. “Ever since I could walk, I’ve ridden, and with my summers split between the Rez and the town and the old ranch with Grandpa, I’ve spent a lot of time riding and hunting and wandering the land.”
“You’re very lucky,” she whispered.
Jack finally glanced at Grace. She was sitting up straight, her hands pressed to her knees, almost yoga style. As his eyes met hers, he thought he saw a trace of that wistfulness he’d caught in her tone earlier. He felt a powerful twinge of guilt for every time he’d led her on the roughest, hardest route or made this land seem unfriendly and harsh. That’s when he realized that despite fully intending to discourage her from getting attached to the place, he hadn’t made any headway in that direction at all.
She wanted a home here for her family. He knew her daughter was the most important person in the world to her, and this is where she wanted to raise her. He was starting to feel like a scrooge for trying to get the land away from her.
He turned from her, pushed himself up, knowing that he had to take a mental step back to get some balance as well as put some physical distance between them.
She got up with him, her arm against his for support, her heat seeping into him. She seemed oblivious to the contact and thankfully just as oblivious to his sense of loss when she moved away, and walked farther along the outcropping.
Jack stayed where he was, waiting, until she turned and headed back to him.
“I’ve never seen anything like this, and I’ve never been anywhere like this.” She motioned around them and her smile came slowly, its impact on him growing stronger with each second that passed. “I can’t imagine that I’m actually living here. It’s like a dream, but a dream where I know I won’t wake up and find it gone.”
He turned away, unable to look her in the eyes. Scrooge was starting to look like a saint compared to how he felt right then.
“Time to go,” he said, and Grace turned for one last glance, then
nodded and they headed back.
Jack did something he hadn’t planned on doing when they got to the horses. Instead of heading straight back to the old ranch, he veered onto a side trail where the riding was easy. The day was starting to warm, the sun climbing in the sky, but he wasn’t very aware of the weather or the scenery. He was aware of the woman behind him.
“Jack?” Grace called to him.
He slowed, letting her approach on his left side. “What?”
“Is this the way to the house? Maybe I’m confused, but it doesn’t feel like the right direction.”
“It isn’t,” he admitted. “I was thinking, since this is our last ride, we can go to my folks’ place, drop Lucy at the stables, then I’ll drive you home.” He was done trying to wear her down. If she couldn’t make it on the ranch, it wouldn’t be because of anything he did. He couldn’t live with himself if he kept being devious with this woman.
She shifted in the saddle. “Okay, that would make things simpler for you, I guess.”
“The Jeep’s air-conditioned,” he said.
That brought a smile. “Now that’s really enticing.”
They were on a trail that was wide enough to ride side by side. “This is the path we used to take from the big ranch to the lake. Well-worn over the years.”
“Jack, just a minute,” she said, and when he turned, she had her cell phone out of her pocket. “I need to call Mom.”
He watched her press the keys, hold the phone to her ear, then smile a bit when it was answered on the other end. “Mom, can you get Lilly at the bus today?” She listened. “Thanks, that’ll work. I’ll be home in a bit, but Jack needs to get his horse back.” She nodded. “Love you, too.” And she hung up.
“How’s the school working out?” Jack asked as she pocketed her phone.
“Just great. Lilly’s already made friends and loves her teacher, although she’s starting to wish she had dark hair, instead of being a blonde.”
“Being blonde is a good thing,” Jack said, not even able to imagine Grace anything but.
“At six years of age, she thinks she wants to be dark-haired and have a name like Rose, or Swallow or Liberty.”
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