The Rancher's Secret Wife

by Brenda Minton

  When he called out, she turned, thinking he must have heard her.

  “I’m in the kitchen.”

  He shouted this time and the sound sent chills up her arms. Cheyenne walked back to the living room. He thrashed on the couch, kicking off the afghan he’d pulled over himself. He opened his eyes and yelled for someone. She couldn’t make out the name.

  Cheyenne sat on the edge of the trunk, her hands shaking as she reached to wake him. He turned, staring as if he saw her. But she knew it wasn’t her face he saw. He was reliving what had happened in Afghanistan.

  “Reese.” She touched his shoulder. “It’s me. It’s Cheyenne. Wake up. It’s a dream.”

  He didn’t hear her. She moved from the trunk to the couch. Sitting next to him she pulled him close, cradling him against her. He wasn’t a child. He was a grown man. She soothed him, brushing her hand through his hair. He wrapped strong arms around her and held tight.

  “Reese, wake up.” She swallowed a tight lump of emotion in her throat.

  “Cheyenne.” He brushed a hand across his face. “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to be sorry.”

  “I should have warned you.” He leaned back, soaked with perspiration, his eyes closed. “I have nightmares.”

  “About Afghanistan?”

  “Yeah. I can’t get past this feeling that I should have known or I could have stopped it from happening. Each time I have the dream I warn them too late.”

  “You couldn’t have...”

  He opened his eyes. “I know. But do the families know? The Bernards lost a nineteen-year-old son. Do they know that I tried to save their son? I would have given my life for his.”

  She started to tell him not to say that because if he’d given his life she wouldn’t have him. But she didn’t

  really have him. She had these moments with him—temporary moments. He wasn’t going to be in the delivery room with her, being her partner, holding her hand. She closed her eyes and pushed aside Jesse’s slipup.

  It wasn’t as if she’d expected Reese to be there. That had never been the plan. It hadn’t been part of their arrangement. If things had gone according to plan, he wouldn’t have been home from Afghanistan when she delivered.

  “Have you talked to them?” She cleared her throat. “The Bernards, I mean.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “Not really. And Mia asked the same thing.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  “They live in Oklahoma City.”

  She reached for his hand. “I’ll drive you down there. Tomorrow.”

  “I have an appointment in Tulsa tomorrow morning.”

  “I know. And after that appointment, we can drive down to Oklahoma City. We’ll call the Bernards. Reese, it might help them to see that you’re moving forward with your life. It might help you to let go.”

  “I don’t see how.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs. And she rested her hand on his back.

  “I don’t know, but I think it might.”

  “You’re an amazing woman. He should have seen that in you.” He sat up and pulled her close. “I see it.”

  “Reese.”

  She whispered his name, and then he silenced her with a kiss. She closed her eyes. A kiss had never made her feel like this—like the most beautiful woman in the world. Reese’s hands were on her face, and he cherished her with every touch.

  “I’m going now.” He stood but leaned for one last kiss. “Because I’m not going to mess this up, Cheyenne. Whatever this is, I don’t want to take it for granted. You’re too amazing to take for granted.”

  She watched him walk to the door, and then she sighed and leaned back on the couch. Amazing... She’d never been called that, not once in her life.

  And he was willing to walk away—for her. He was not going to take advantage of their situation. He was nothing like Mark.

  After a few minutes she opened the door that led to the stable. The lights were still on, but the only one in the stable was Jackson. He saluted by lifting his hat, but then he turned his attention back to the mare.

  “Is she okay?” Cheyenne took a few steps into the stable.

  “Yeah, I think she will be. I’m not sure what happened with her, but she has a pretty serious infection. The foal is good, though.” He stepped back. “Want to see her now that she’s dry?”

  “I’d love to.”

  Jackson motioned her over. “She’s a beauty. We had hoped she’d be dark like this.”

  “She’s definitely beautiful.” The dark-coated foal had sidled up to her mother and pushed at her belly, searching for something to eat.

  A car door slammed. Jackson smiled and looked like a guy in love.

  “That would be my wife, Maddie, and our daughter Jade.”

  “I haven’t met them, have I?”

  “No, they were in Branson for the past week—a

  going-back-to-school trip.” He met his wife at the door. The two hugged and then headed back to the mare, arm in arm. A teenager pushed between them, her smile huge.

  “Oh, hi.” Maddie Cooper smiled and held out a hand to Cheyenne. “You must be Cheyenne.”

  “Cool beans.” Jade laughed a little. “Reese is going to be a dad.”

  “No, Reese isn’t. He...” She didn’t know what to say.

  Jackson slipped a hand over the girl’s mouth. “She knows, but she can’t help but stir things up when she gets the chance.”

  “I’m sorry. Geesh. But it would be a great story to tell when I go back to school next month.” Jade snorted and flipped her blond hair as she moved past the adults to look at the foal.

  Maddie Cooper shook her head. “She’s incorrigible. She gets it from him.”

  “A family trait,” Cheyenne commiserated. “I should go. I just came out to check on the mare one last time.”

  “Is Reese okay?” Jackson had a syringe and a bottle of medicine. “Sorry, ladies. It’s time to give our new mom a shot. And the baby, too. I hope you don’t have needle phobias.”

  “No phobias.” Cheyenne watched him fill the syringe, and then she remembered he’d asked about Reese. “Does he have nightmares often?”

  Jackson flicked the needle. “Sometimes he does. It’s gotten a lot better. There are flashbacks, too. But he’s learned some techniques for dealing with them. He carries pure peppermint, something about sniffing it, and he has an MP3 player with music.”

  “Peppermint and music?”

  He smiled and went back to work on the mare. “I’ll let him explain.”

  “Of course.” She leaned in and watched as he smoothed a place on the mare’s neck and gave her the injection.

  She walked back to the apartment and sank into the soft leather of the couch. Lamplight cast a soft glow and a candle burned, making the room smell like fresh-baked cinnamon rolls. She thought about needing Reese. And then she let herself believe that maybe they needed each other—at least until they could be strong on their own.

  * * *

  Reese hadn’t believed Cheyenne would hold him to the conversation of the previous evening, but she did. As they were driving to Tulsa the morning after the foal’s birth, the morning after one of his nightmares, she’d picked up his phone and told him to call the Bernards.

  He’d taken the phone and held it for a minute. “I don’t know.”

  “I think you do. This is the right thing to do. If they don’t want to see you, they’ll tell you.”

  So he made the call. The Bernards were more than happy to meet with him. They wanted a chance to talk to him and had hoped he’d call. So after his counseling appointment, they headed south. A short time later the truck slowed to a stop and the GPS announced that they’d reached their destination.

  “Here we are.” Cheyenne turned off the truck. The radio continued to play softly and would until one of them opened a door.

  He whistled and let out a long breath. “I’m not sure if I can do this.”

  “I think you have to.
”

  “Pressure much?”

  “You made me move into the stable apartment. Sometimes we have to push a person to do what’s best for them.”

  “Okay, we can do this.” He reached for the door handle but paused. The song on the radio was about realizing you’re in love and being surprised. He turned to where he knew Cheyenne was still sitting.

  “We should go.” She opened her door and the song cut off.

  He smiled and got out of the truck. “Chicken.”

  “I’m not a chicken.” She took his hand and hissed, “Stop making this about us.”

  “My apologies.”

  They walked up the sidewalk. He heard the screen door open. Cheyenne’s hand on his tensed.

  “Reese Cooper?” a woman asked, choked with tears.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  And then her arms wrapped around him. He heard footsteps behind her and a throat cleared. “Let him go, Wanda.”

  She turned loose. “I’m so sorry, it’s just that you’re the one we have left. I’m so glad to see you doing so well. And is this your wife?”

  He reached back for Cheyenne’s hand. “Yes, this is Cheyenne.”

  She didn’t immediately step forward. He heard her start to say something. Finally she moved to his side. “Cheyenne Cooper.”

  “It is so good to meet you both.” Wanda Bernard hugged him again. “Come in, please.”

  He nodded and reached. Cheyenne placed his hand on hers, and they walked through the front door. His mind kept replaying what Mrs. Bernard had said. He was the one they had left.

  One of seven, he alone had survived. He thought about the six other families and realized what she’d meant by that. In a sense, maybe he’d become the son, father, brother to all six families who had lost soldiers. Up to this point, he’d just considered himself a reminder of what they’d lost.

  As he got stronger, he might try to visit each of the families. It might help them all.

  “Have a seat.” Mr. Bernard’s voice was gruff, but Reese understood the kind of gruffness that helped a guy hold it together.

  Cheyenne whispered, “This way,” and she led him to a sofa. They sat down together, husband and wife—temporarily. He had married her thinking she needed something he could give her: stability. He laced his fingers through hers and said a silent thank-you to the One who had known the future and had known that they would need each other.

  “You have no idea how much this means to us that you’re here.” Mrs. Bernard had returned. He heard the clink of a glass hitting a coaster. “I have tea. Do you need something to eat? I have cookies. Or I could make you a sandwich.”

  “No, you don’t have to do that.” Reese reached, touched the cold glass and lifted it to his lips. The tea was sweet and lemony. He set it back down, feeling with his other hand to make sure he didn’t miss the coaster. “I wanted to come by and check on you. And to tell you how sorry I am.”

  “You don’t need to be sorry, Reese.” Mr. Bernard had leaned close. His voice still had that gruff tone, but it had softened. “We know what happened out there that day. We know how you tried to help our boy. We know it isn’t easy for you.”

  Reese rubbed a hand across his forehead and nodded. “It hasn’t been easy. I keep thinking back, to signs that might have warned me that something was ahead of us.”

  “There’s no cause for you to do that, Reese. You can’t fight an enemy that you can’t see.”

  “No, ma’am, not usually.” He lifted the tea again. “I just wish I could have. I would give anything to give you your son back.”

  A rough hand touched his. “The best thing you can do is keep living your life.”

  “Yes, sir.” Reese reached for the hand of the woman sitting next to him. “We’ve taken enough of your time. I just wanted to stop by and tell you how sorry I am. And I wanted to tell you what a great boy you raised. When the rest of us were down, he kept holding on to faith.”

  He heard a sob and he hoped he hadn’t said the wrong thing. Cheyenne gave his hand a light squeeze.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to hurt you. I only wanted to tell you what you already know. Your son had more faith than most of us will ever have. And I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “We know, son. So are we.” Mr. Bernard cleared his throat. “But we know our boy wouldn’t have wanted you to feel this way. He was a little guy when the Trade Centers got hit. From that moment on, he said that someday he’d serve his country and help to keep it safe. He did what he wanted to do. And he knew Who he trusted in. He’s with his God now.”

  Reese stood and he did what felt right. He saluted. And after a tight hug from the Bernards, he left their home feeling a little stronger, a little lighter. Once they were on the road, he realized that Cheyenne had been very quiet.

  “Chey?” He smiled at the nickname. Shy she wasn’t, but he liked the shortened version of her name.

  “I’m here.” She sobbed a little. “I told you that would be good for you.”

  “Yeah, it was. But what about you? Are you okay?”

  “I’m good.” She sniffled. “I loved those people.”

  He smiled and then laughed a little. “There are tissues in the console between the seats.”

  “Thanks.” She fiddled and he heard the console flip up.

  “Find them?”

  “Yeah.” She blew her nose and he cringed.

  “Feel better?”

  “Oh, be quiet. You can’t do something like that and expect me, a super emotional pregnant woman, not to cry.”

  “No, I guess not.” He reached to turn down the radio. “Thank you for going with me to do that. I

  really couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “Because you needed me to drive.” She gave a watery laugh. “Sorry, bad joke.”

  “Very bad. And other than the driving, I’m glad you were with me.”

  “You’re welcome.” She sniffed again. “I’m sorry for teasing you.”

  “I really don’t mind. Laughing is better than the alternative.”

  She sobbed a little. “Stop. Here I am crying and you’re making comments like that.”

  “I’ll stop.” He smiled, though. He couldn’t help but think about kissing her. Teary cheeks and all, he wanted to pull her close and kiss her senseless. Yeah, he’d come a long way in two months.

  “I guess we go home now?”

  “I think so.”

  Home. He liked it when she said it that way.

  It wasn’t home for good, though. She’d stay in Dawson to raise her son. She’d run the old barbershop and she’d go to church at Dawson Community Church. She’d be around. After the birth of her son, she would no longer be in his life.

  Chapter Ten

  Cheyenne found Reese in the arena. He’d been doing more around the ranch for the past week since their trip to Oklahoma City. She smiled, watching him on the back of a green broke gelding. She now understood that green broke meant not really broke. She cringed thinking about the fact that he had saddled a horse that really hadn’t been ridden much.

  But he looked good on that horse. She leaned against the wall and watched him on the big gray. He had his hat low. His jeans were ragged at the hems, and his boots were old and scuffed. He turned the horse in a tight circle, used his heels and sent the animal forward. She held her breath when the horse bucked a little.

  “Reese.” She meant to call out, but his name came out in a whisper. But he heard her and turned in her direction.

  “Chey?” He rode the horse a few steps, stopped and dismounted, landing easily on the ground. “You okay?”

  “I’m good. I’m just worrying about you.”

  He led the horse forward and stopped in front of her. “I can’t see, honey, but I can feel. When he starts that nonsense I can feel it through the saddle. He hunches a little and hops. It’s about balance.”

  “I suppose a man who used to ride bulls knows a little bit about how to ride an animal that bucks.”
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br />   “A little.” He grinned, and then he leaned through the bars of the gate and motioned her forward. She leaned and he dropped a sweet kiss on her mouth. “Stop worrying.”

  “I have to worry. I’m a woman and it’s what we do.”

  “Worry less. Trust more.”

  “I just wanted to let you know that I’m leaving. I have a doctor’s appointment.” She bit down on her bottom lip because she knew that her worry was evident in her tone. “It’s good, though.”

  “Let me go with you.” He reached, found the latch on the gate and opened it.

  “I can do this on my own. I should do this on my own.” As much as she wanted to stand firm and resist his attempt to be involved, she couldn’t.

  “Of course you can. But it’s more fun when you have someone with you. You were with me when we went to the Bernards last week. You drove me to my counseling appointment.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “And I want to go with you.” He led the horse through the gate. “Let me put this bad boy back in the field and we’ll take off.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She stopped in her apartment to grab her purse and met him at the truck. She’d gotten used to driving his big Ford F-250. It pulled out smoothly and headed down the road, the radio playing country music. Reese pulled off his hat and tossed it in the backseat, and then he brushed his fingers through his hair.

  Cheyenne glanced in his direction and then refocused on the road.

  “I didn’t know you had an appointment today,” Reese said as they drove through Grove.

  She cleared her throat and shifted as the truck slowed. “I didn’t.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I haven’t felt well all day. And earlier my head started to ache. I called Dr. Richards.”

  “Cheyenne, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I did tell you. You’re here, aren’t you?”

  He shook his head. “That isn’t what I meant. You should have told someone, told me.”

  “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, Reese.”

  “I know, but you don’t have to. You have a family.”