by Barbara Gee
“You shouldn’t be so calm and blasé about this,” Brit complained. “I mean, it’s a dream come true, right? The best player on your favorite team is volunteering here for the whole summer.” She finally lowered her phone and looked accusingly at her friend. “The best, most gorgeous player, I might add. You need to be excited.”
Callie gave a little shrug. “I am excited. I really do think it’s great he’s spending the off-season here. I just don’t feel the need to stalk him. If I can catch a glimpse of him over on the ice at the rink every so often, that’ll be enough for me.”
“Oh, trust me, I want to see him on the ice, too. Who wouldn’t? But seeing him up close and in person is going to be totally amazing.” Brittany checked her phone for more texts before sticking it back in her pocket. “Our little town has hit the jackpot with NHL players, thanks to this place. First Boone Kendall and now Vince Abbot. Pretty soon the hockey paparazzi are going to set up shop at the ranch gates.”
“That would be completely awful,” Callie declared with a frown, hoping Vince had kept his summer plans on the down-low.
“Please come have lunch with Rose and me,” Brit begged. “Three cute local girls at a table might be just the thing to attract a big-shot like Vince. Plus, you already know Boone a little bit. If he comes over to say hi, Vince might tag along.”
“I’ve only talked to Boone a few times,” Callie said. “I’m sure he has more important things to do on his first day back than making a point to chit-chat with someone he barely knows.”
Callie opened Tazz’s stall and went inside while Brit leaned over the door, not yet ready to give up. “Just remember, tomorrow’s your last day volunteering here for who knows how long. If you don’t get to see Vince Abbot today, it could be ages before you get a chance.”
That was the truth. Callie couldn’t come to the center as frequently as she once had, because it was getting harder and harder to get away from her own ranch. She’d made it a priority to come every morning this week because Molly needed her, but Bob the stable boss would be back day after tomorrow, and that meant she’d be staying at home for the foreseeable future, well away from the allure of Vince Abbot.
That was a good thing, actually, because her grandfather was sick and getting sicker, and Callie’s place was with him. She didn’t need to be hanging around at the Full Heart mooning after a handsome hockey player.
Callie began brushing Tazz, hurrying now because thoughts of her grandfather made her want to get home to him.
Brit gave a frustrated sigh. “Come on, Cal, eat lunch with us. I’d hate for you to miss out on your chance to meet him.”
“Thanks, but I’ll live.”
“It’ll be your loss,” Brit declared.
“Maybe, but what if Vince is a total jerk in real life?” Callie’s voice was a little sharper than she’d intended. “Have you thought about that?”
Brittany leaned farther over the stable door and gave her a dubious look. “Seriously? You don’t want to see him because you’re afraid he’ll turn out to be a jerk?”
Callie raised one shoulder in a shrug. “You have to admit it would be a let down. I love watching him play, and I’d hate for that to be ruined by a disappointing personality.”
Thankfully it wasn’t only Vince she enjoyed watching, but the whole Minnesota Wild team. She and her grandfather, Jeremiah, had started watching hockey when Boone Kendall had first come to town and been revealed as the son Virgil and Kay Desmond thought they’d lost as an infant. It was a fascinating story, and Callie had been so curious about Boone, she’d watched a hockey game so she could learn more about him.
Her grandfather had watched with her, and to their surprise, they’d quickly gotten hooked on the game. An hour in, she’d started Googling the rules, trying to figure out what “icing” and “off-sides” and “face-offs” meant. She’d explained it all to Jeremiah as she read it, and they’d ended up learning the game together.
After the first season, he’d splurged and bought a big-screen, high definition TV so they could see the puck better, and by the second season they were hard core fans….along with a sizeable percentage of the population in their small town. Everyone loved the Desmonds, and so by default they loved Boone Kendall. Cheering him on had become a popular pastime in little Barlow, North Dakota.
When Vince Abbot had been traded to the Wild, the team’s success had hit a whole new level. The past two years with him on the team had been thrilling, and Callie treasured the evenings spent watching the games with her grandpa, both of them cheering madly. It would be a wonderful memory that would stick with her long after he was gone.
“Well, I for one definitely want to see Vince in person,” Brittany declared, unaware of Callie’s deeper thoughts. “If he’s a jerk, he’s a jerk. But I don’t think he’s that bad. I look up stuff online about him and the other players all the time. I think he’s had his moments, but he’s changed a lot since joining the Wild. I think he’s a decent guy.”
Callie thought about that as she ran the brush along Tazz’s flank. “I suppose it’s a good sign he’s spending his off-season volunteering here at the ranch instead of lounging on a beach somewhere,” she finally said.
“He was here last summer, too, remember?” Brittany said. “Too bad that was before we got involved as volunteers.”
“Yeah, but from what I heard, he was here for rehab with Jolene and Izzy. I know he helped out at the ice rink some too, but it’s not like he came for that.”
“Maybe not, but he’s definitely not injured now, and he still came. That tells me he wants to be a part of what we do here.”
Callie hung up the brush and scratched the horse’s neck. “I hope you’re right. Having two big-league hockey players here will obviously be a great thing for the veterans.”
Brittany’s phone chimed again and she checked it, looking at Callie with pleading eyes. “Rose is heading over to the cafeteria. This is your last chance. If you don’t come along, you’re going to have to get everything second-hand from Rose and me. When we tell you how drop-dead gorgeous Vince is in real life, you’re going to regret not seeing him with your own eyes.”
Callie chuckled. “I’m sure I’ll eventually get the chance. Right now I just want to get the horses settled and go home. Grandpa had a bad night, and I want to make sure he took all his meds. When he doesn’t sleep at night, he sleeps all morning, and usually forgets about his pills.”
Brittany’s expression immediately softened. “Oh man, if he had a bad night, that means you did too. Did you get any sleep at all?”
Callie shrugged. “I dozed off a few times.”
“I’m so sorry, Callie,” Brittany said sincerely. “You don’t have to take care of all his horses after you get home, do you?”
“No, Quinn is working full-time for the summer, thank goodness. Hopefully I’ll be able to get some of my own work done. I have big feed and veterinary orders I need to get done this afternoon.”
“Okay, well, I’ll text you and let you know if we catch sight of Vince. Otherwise, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. You working the morning shift again?”
“Sure am. I’m going to get here early so I have time to take Comet and Phoenix for long runs. It’s been a couple days since they’ve gotten good outside workouts.”
Brit raised her brows. “Oh yeah? Well then I’ll come early too, and take one of them. We can ride together—that’ll save you a lot of time.”
Callie smiled, not about to turn down her friend’s very kind offer. “That would be great. I’ll owe you one. Come at seven if you can.”
“I’ll be here.” Brittany grinned and waggled her brows. “Unless Vince and I hit it off and we go on a date and stay up talking until the wee hours of the night.”
“In that case, I’ll gladly give you a pass,” Callie assured her.
But the idea made her feel a twinge of jealousy. It was totally ridiculous, but it was there. So much for being all mature.
CHAPTER 2
Callie gave Tazz, Evie, and a few other horses their lunch-time snack of oats and hay, made sure their waterers were all working, then tracked down Molly in the staff lounge to let her know she was leaving for the day.
The other woman gave her a grateful hug. “Thanks for your hard work, as always. I don’t know what we’d do without you. You’re always willing to fill in when we need you, even though you’ve got so much of your own stuff to worry about. Is your grandpa doing any better?”
Callie shook her head. “No. His doctor—” she broke off and took a shaky breath. She was normally good at hiding her emotions, but sometimes they pushed through the wall she tried to keep them behind. She fought the thickness in her throat and answered the question honestly. “The doctor said we’re going to see a slow but steady decline, and that’s definitely happening. The good days are getting fewer and fewer.”
Molly’s face fell. “Ah, honey, I’m sorry to hear that. Nothing more they can do?”
“No. It’s just controlling the pain at this point, and trying to get him to eat and drink enough. He’s determined not to go back to the hospital. Thankfully, he’s still able to move around the house by himself, so I haven’t had to hire a nurse yet. We’ll see how much longer that lasts.”
“If there’s anything I can do, you just let me know. You’ve helped us out so much here, it would be my pleasure to return the kindness.”
“Thanks, but it’s not like coming here is a chore for me,” Callie assured her. “This place is so inspiring. I appreciate the chance to be a part of it.”
“Just so you don’t take on more than you can handle,” Molly said. “If you ever need to cancel a shift, you let me know. Even if it’s short notice.”
“I will.” Callie walked to the lockers in the corner and grabbed her stuff. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Bye, sweetie. You take care of yourself.”
Callie headed down the hall toward the exit, turning her head to bury a huge yawn in her upper arm. She felt dead on her feet, but that was nothing new. When her grandpa was too worked up to sleep, like he’d been last night, she usually sat up with him, sometimes reading to him, sometimes just holding his hand and talking about anything that came into her head. Anything to help pass the time and take his mind off the kinds of things that were all too easy to worry about in the dead of night.
Stomach cancer was slowly killing Jeremiah Green. The man who had raised Callie since the age of five—after her mother had died in a riding accident—was dying. And there wasn’t a darn thing Callie could do about it.
She’d tried. Of course she’d tried. Three years ago, when the cancer was first discovered, she’d spent the summer faithfully driving him to every doctor appointment and chemo treatment. She’d stayed upbeat, never giving up hope, and she’d refused to let Jeremiah give up, either. Even at seventy-two years old, her grandpa was the strongest man she knew—surely he could fight through this disease.
Thank the good Lord above, he had done just that. His body had responded quickly to the treatments, and his cancer had gone into remission. Callie had taken the fall semester off from college, giving him time to build his strength back up, but come January, he insisted she go back to school and finish what she’d started. He assured her he’d be fine on his own, and he was.
Even though he’d bounced back more quickly than expected, Callie had felt like she was holding her breath the whole first year of his remission. She’d had great faith and strength during his treatment, when he’d shown such steady improvement, but now she worried that every little ache, every cold, every upset stomach, meant the dreaded cancer had returned.
The second year was better, she didn’t fret nearly as much, and by the time the third anniversary of his diagnosis had passed, she’d truly believed Jeremiah had beaten the cancer and would make it to the magical five-year mark when he could be declared cancer-free.
Her confidence had been misplaced. A week after this past Christmas, he’d stopped eating more than a few bites at meals. His appetite was nonexistent, and he’d finally admitted his stomach felt upset all the time. Callie had made an appointment with his doctor immediately, and the blood-work had confirmed their worst fears. The cancer was back, and more aggressive than before. Further tests revealed it had already spread to his liver.
Callie tried to reclaim the confidence she’d felt the first time around, but it was different this time. Jeremiah seemed to know right from the start that the outcome wouldn’t be the same. He’d gamely started treatments again, but his body didn’t handle it as well as before. He became sick and weak, seeming to wither away right before her eyes.
After eight weeks, his doctor had reluctantly admitted their options were limited. Jeremiah wasn’t responding to the chemo, and it was making him so sick and miserable, he could barely get out of bed. Jeremiah wanted to stop the treatments and spend whatever time he had left outside on the ranch, doing as much as he could, for as long as he could.
It was his decision to make, and Callie didn’t fight his choice. As it turned out, he’d felt so much better after giving up the harsh treatments they’d both started to hope again. It was short-lived, though. After three fairly good months, this last month had been one of decline. He spent most of his days sitting in his recliner in the living room, watching the news and horse show reruns, and longing for better days.
Callie knew it was only a matter of time before Jeremiah wouldn’t be able to leave his bed, and she’d already lined up a home-healthcare agency for when that dreaded reality arrived. She hadn’t told him about that, though. The man might be getting steadily weaker, but he was still as stubborn and independent as they came. He couldn’t bear to even think about being bedridden, much less discuss it with her.
Things were getting tougher for them both, however, whether they admitted it or not. The nights spent keeping Jeremiah company made it hard for Callie to find the energy to get things done during the day, but she hid her yawns and refused to complain. After all, this was the man who had raised her almost single-handedly. A few sleepless nights were nothing compared to his own sacrifice.
There was nothing Callie wouldn’t do for him, and that included giving up the chance to join her friends in their efforts to catch a glimpse of Vince Abbot. Instead of hanging out with them in the cafeteria, she drove straight to the Double Nickel ranch, her favorite place in the world and the only home she remembered.
She parked outside the kitchen door, then dropped her forehead to the steering wheel, reluctant to go inside because she was afraid Jeremiah would be having a bad morning. It never got easier to see that.
As she always did when the dread and grief seemed overwhelming, Callie closed her eyes and began to pray. Her faith was the one constant in her life right now. How did people get through the tough times without the assurance of a Heavenly Father who cared, who was always there, always listening and loving and never forsaking?
Callie had begged for healing for her grandpa, and she knew God heard her pleas. She also knew He had a plan far greater than her own, and so she prayed for the strength and courage to get through whatever they had in store—whether that be a miraculous healing, or accepting that Jeremiah’s time on earth was coming to an end. Her desire was to feel God’s peace regardless.
As so often happened when she prayed, her mind went back to happier times. To the years on this ranch with the grandfather who’d brought her up to know unconditional love, and so much joy. It was his gift to her, a great and ongoing gift she one day hoped to pass on to her own children. Those memories would never die, even though Jeremiah would.
Feeling a little better, Callie ended her prayer and went inside to find that Jeremiah had made it out of bed and gotten dressed, and was currently fast asleep in his beloved recliner. Callie wished she knew why he could sleep so peacefully during the day, only to toss and turn all night.
When she gently woke him up, Jeremiah admitted he hadn’t eaten anything, or taken
his pills. Callie made him take the meds right away, then she scrambled some eggs for his lunch. He did his best to eat, managing half the eggs and most of a piece of toast.
“Sorry to be a burden to you, my girl,” he said when Callie took his plate and began cleaning up the dishes.
“Oh please, Grandpa,” she chided gently, “you know you aren’t half the burden I was to you, back when you became the sole parent to my five-year-old self.”
“Raising you was my pleasure, you know that.” He smiled fondly. “When your mother showed up here with you in tow, I regained my purpose in life. Before that it was just me and the ranch hands, and let me tell you, that was bad news. They were as happy as I was when you showed up. Got me off their backs some.”
Callie had heard this many times over the years—how she’d given meaning to his life—and she never tired of it. Prior to her mother showing up with a toddler, Jeremiah had been alone and miserable. Tabitha, Callie’s mother and Jeremiah’s only child, had left home the day after graduating from high school, answering the siren call of the big city as soon as her diploma was in hand. Two years later, Jeremiah’s wife, Margaret, had also left him, moving to the east coast with her best friend’s handsome cousin.
She’d never looked back and never once made contact, not with Jeremiah or their daughter—not even when Tabitha had returned to the ranch with a child.
So, for more than a year, Jeremiah had lived in the big old farmhouse completely alone, and that image still broke Callie’s heart. When Tabitha showed up after her five year absence and begged him for another chance and a place to stay, he’d taken one look at little Callie and welcomed them with open arms. He might tend to be crusty and impatient with the rest of the world, but when it came to his granddaughter, he had never hesitated to show love, patience, and total acceptance.
