She was, without a doubt, one of the loveliest women Kristin had ever seen—even in jeans and a plain cotton shirt. Her oval face and dark, expressive eyes probably turned heads wherever she went.
She offered her hand to Kristin. After a round of introductions, Donna smiled at Cody. “I hear you had an adventure.”
He looked at her in awe and held out his hand, palm up.
Donna withdrew a plastic bag from her back pocket and offered it to Kristin. “I’ve got a couple of these tweezers. Maybe we can both work on him…if that’s okay?”
“Thanks.” Kristin took out one of the tweezers. “I really appreciate this.”
Donna directed Cody to the chair behind the desk and switched on a bright halogen desk light, then pulled up chairs for Kristin and herself on either side of him.
He winced as they removed the first few spines, then sat still and quiet. When Kristin heard a rustle of movement at the door and looked over her shoulder, she knew why he was suddenly being so stoic. Two dark-haired children were hovering at the door, whispering to each other.
“Okay, you two,” Donna said without looking up. “Come on in and be polite. Introduce yourselves to our new neighbors, you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The boy sidled farther into the room with his taller sister at his heels and shot a brief, shy glance at Kristin. “I’m Hayden, and this is my sister, Sara.”
“Hayden is in fourth grade with Cody. Sara is a year older,” Donna said as she deftly removed another cactus spine. “You two do your chores yet?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sara said shyly. With her long black hair and dark eyes, she was definitely on her way to being as beautiful as her mother. “The black momma cat had her kittens. We found them up in the hay.”
“Maybe when we’re done here, you could take Cody up to see them.” Donna raised an eyebrow at Cody. “If you’d like to, that is.”
He swallowed hard and nodded.
After another ten minutes, Donna brought the lamp closer and ran a practiced forefinger over Cody’s palm with a feather-light touch. “I think we got it. Kristin, take a good look.” Her mouth tipped into a wry grin. “I guess I plumb took over, but you’re the professional.”
Kristin laughed. “Not with cactus emergencies.”
She’d seen Donna and Trevor exchange quick glances when she’d mentioned her last name, then Trevor had given a subtle shake of his head. From that point Kristin had felt guarded, wondering what that gesture meant, yet hesitating to ask while Cody could overhear.
Donna reached for a bottle of soothing lotion and smoothed it over his hand. “Good job, Cody. I haven’t ever seen anyone sit so still for something like this. You want to go see those cats?”
He looked to Kristin for approval, then slipped out of his chair.
“Not too long, honey. We’ve got quite a ride home, and not much daylight.”
Donna waved away her concern. “Trevor already brought up the horse trailer. He’ll give y’all a ride home.”
The kids raced out of the office, leaving Kristin and Donna to rearrange the chairs and set the desk back in order.
“I can’t thank you enough. You and your husband were both so kind to help us out.”
“It’s nothing, really. I had to bring the kids over to do their chores, anyway, and Trevor doesn’t mind a little trip like that.” Donna walked over to a table in the corner and lifted a glass carafe of coffee. “I don’t know how long this has been here, but I could make us a fresh pot.” When Kristin started to demur, she added, “I don’t imagine they’ll be back directly. Kittens are quite a draw, and I suppose my kids will want to show Cody their horses and 4-H calves.”
Donna busied herself rinsing out the pot and starting a fresh one in the tiny kitchen area of the large office. Searching through the cupboards, she found a new package of Oreo cookies, which she opened and shook out onto a plate. Then she retrieved cups and packets of sweetener and creamer.
“It’s nice to meet our new neighbors,” Donna said as she set a tray of coffee and cookies on a small coffee table. “Have a seat.”
Kristin took one of the high-backed leather chairs facing a dark plate glass window. A blur of motion swept past, and belatedly she realized she was facing an indoor arena. “Someone’s riding out there?”
Donna leaned close to the glass. “I’m not sure who. Garrett’s back—Trevor’s younger brother—or it could be Ryan. It’s light enough out there during the day, but I think I’d better give him some light.” She moved to an electrical panel on the wall by the door, and instantly the arena was bathed in bright fluorescent light.
At the far side, Ryan loped a gleaming black colt in smaller and smaller circles, then he reined him into an effortless inside rollback to come out loping on the opposite lead.
Donna watched him for a moment before lifting a coffee cup and some cookies from the tray and sinking into the chair next to Kristin’s. “He’s good, isn’t he?”
“More than.”
“I think it helps him a lot, coming outside to work the horses. Therapy, of sorts.” She studied Kristin over the rim of her cup, then lowered it and held it with both hands on her lap. “I understand you two have some history.”
“A little.” Kristin watched the horse and rider, rather than meet the other woman’s eyes. “I moved away when I was a child, but met him in college. We dated, broke up. The usual.” From the corner of her eye, she saw the troubled look on Donna’s face. “I’m sure I was just one of many.”
“I’d probably just started dating Trevor back then.” Donna worried at her lower lip with her perfect, white teeth. “I’m sorry you and I didn’t meet back then.”
“I was only here at the ranch once.” A visit intended to be a joyous meet-my-family celebration…but one that had ended up being the most awful day of her life. Kristin forced a smile. “It’s ironic, being here again after all these years. I had no idea that my land was next to this ranch…at least, not till I started moving in and missed my road a few times. The name of your ranch is listed on the No Trespassing signs all along the highway.”
“Most land around here is leased to hunters, so we try to keep out the poachers.” Donna watched Ryan dismount, toss a stirrup over the saddle and loosen the girth, then lead the horse out of the arena. “It’s a nice coincidence that Ryan happens to be in town, now. I hear you two ran into each other.”
“Briefly.”
Donna’s eyes twinkled. “And?”
“It was on a professional basis. Only.”
“There’s no chance…?”
“None.” Clint had been vicious on that cold, long ago day when he threatened to ruin her family if she didn’t break up with Ryan. She’d had no doubt he would follow through.
He’d also told her he would force Ryan to leave school and go back to the ranch.
Devastated, she’d complied. When Ryan tried to dissuade her, she’d blurted out the first lie she could think of—that she never wanted to be a rancher’s wife. That she wanted country clubs and money, not dust and cattle.
He’d believed her and he’d walked away.
Heartbroken, she pined for months, wishing he’d come after her. But he hadn’t called or written. He hadn’t missed her at all.
The irony was that she’d actually ended up, on the rebound, with a guy who’d had the country club and money. A guy who’d been a terrible mistake.
She glanced at her watch. Time was flying. Through the window facing the drive, she could see dusk had fallen.
“I do have a question.” The sound of children chattering was close, but Kristin plowed ahead. “I understand my father worked here a couple years ago.”
Donna dropped her gaze. “Yes, he did.”
“Did you work with him? Talk to him much?”
“No…not really…and he was here less than a year.” Donna swirled the remaining coffee in her cup. “The kids were seven and eight then. I was either home with them or commuting to my old job, which was two ho
urs travel each day.”
Kristin took a steadying breath. “I heard he was fired.”
Donna didn’t answer for so long that Kristin finally touched her arm. “Please, tell me.”
The younger woman glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “Clint is a hard man, bless his heart. He comes roaring in from Austin unexpectedly, doesn’t like something, and heads roll. He’s fired a lot of people over the years. Good people.”
“My dad…was there a fight? A big argument?”
“I—I wouldn’t know about that. Things are—” She stopped abruptly and seemed to withdraw into herself. “Your father is gone. There’s no use worrying about the past, is there? Just let it be.”
The kids burst into the room. “The truck is running, and Dad has the horses loaded,” Sara exclaimed. “And we told Cody he could have a kitten, but not till they’re older. He wants the one with black spots.”
Standing, Donna tousled her son’s hair, clearly relieved by the distraction. “I think you children should be asking Cody’s mom before you start giving him any cats.”
All eyes swiveled to Kristin.
“Please, Mom. It’s gonna be really cool. It’s got one black ear and one white, and it has a bull’s-eye on one side.”
“Sounds like quite a looker,” she said dryly. “Let’s see how you do with your horse chores during the next six weeks, first.”
Cody’s face fell. “Awww, Mom. They could give it to someone else!”
“I promise we won’t,” Donna assured him. “If you do what your mom says, we’ll talk about it again when the kittens are old enough.”
Trevor walked into the room, took off his hat and smiled apologetically at Kristin. “The truck is ready to roll, but I forgot about my Loveless County Cattleman’s meeting tonight.” He ducked his head in obvious embarrassment. “I’d skip it, but I’m…uh…the president this year.”
“Oh, please…don’t think twice. There’s still enough moonlight so we can ride.” Kristin offered her hand. “I’m just grateful for your help with Cody.”
A taller figure stepped inside the tack room, and though he was behind Trevor and Donna, she didn’t have to see him to know who it was.
“I’ll drive,” he said.
The deep voice resonated right through her, and her mouth went dry. Cody let out a whoop and raced out the door, but she felt no such surge of joy.
Another awkward meeting…a drive of a few miles that would seem like eternity.
This was her lucky day.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE DRIVE HOME in Ryan’s truck was as awkward as she’d expected. She couldn’t think of a blessed thing to say.
Cody couldn’t stop talking.
He peppered the man with questions about horses and armadillos and being a soldier who could shoot people.
She looked across the cab and saw Ryan’s skin blanch, a muscle ticking at the side of his jaw. But to his credit he gave nonchalant, vague answers and then steered the questions back to safer ground.
She could see a big case of hero worship building, from the way Cody hung on his every word.
Bad news, because there was no way Ryan would be a permanent part of Cody’s future, and this would lead to one more disappointment in her son’s young life.
While most of his friends’ grandparents were still in their lives, he’d barely known his Grandpa Nate, and the death of his dear Grammy Cantrell two years ago had broken his heart. The disinterest of his father and grandparents on that side of the family tree had hurt and confused him.
Night had fallen by the time they’d driven down to her barn and unloaded the horses. Crickets chirped and a far-off family of coyotes cried to the moon, the immature voices of the younger ones adding a discordant note to the haunting chorus.
“I think they need singing lessons,” she teased as she unbuckled Rebel’s halter and sent him out into the pasture with Boots.
Even in the moonlight, she could see Cody roll his eyes. “Mo-om.”
“But they’re better than me when I sing in the shower.” She gave him a playful nudge with her elbow. “Go toss the horses some hay, will you? There’s a bale right inside the barn.”
Ryan was watching her, his eyes intent, almost curious, as if he couldn’t quite place who she was anymore. She supposed he couldn’t—she wasn’t that young, impressionable nineteen-year-old now. Life had changed her in so many ways in the intervening years, just as it had changed him into a dark and haunted stranger.
“A penny for your thoughts,” he said, his voice somber.
“This is just so strange,” she said after a moment of thought. “I know you, yet I don’t at all. And I could never even begin to understand what you’ve been through. We were such babies back in college weren’t we? We believed that anything was possible.”
“Innocence can be lost in many ways,” he said cryptically. He closed the tailgate of the horse trailer and started for the truck. “Make sure you get to the football game tomorrow. It will mean a lot to Cody.”
“Of course. I already planned to be there.”
“And you should try to get Cody’s dad here. That kid is hurting.”
His words still stung as she watched him drive away. Even from that first day when he brought Cody home, he’d implied that she wasn’t a careful mom. His opinion of her obviously hadn’t changed, but she had planned to be there for Cody tomorrow. With or without that curt reminder.
And he had no idea just how traumatic it could be if Ted actually did show up.
ON THEIR THIRD MORNING at the Homestead Clinic, Kristin and Max had two well-baby physicals, an old-timer with arthritis and three people who simply wanted to check out the clinic “for future reference.”
Max drummed his fingers on the counter in the lab, where he had reorganized the supplies four times since Tuesday morning. “I know I’ll look back someday and regret saying this, but I really want this place to be busy.”
“It will be. Just give it time. We have two patients this afternoon, and the Homestead Herald always comes out on Friday. Our notice will be good news to the people who haven’t seen our sign because they don’t get into town much. People are going to love having a local clinic again.”
Max’s eyebrows lifted. “Love is a tad strong, don’t you think? Our first patient certainly hasn’t been back.”
“And he hasn’t answered my phone messages, either. Before the HIPAA privacy laws took effect we could’ve called Clint’s family, laid out the bad news, and his son would have him back in a hurry. Now, unless he signs a release, we can’t say a word to anyone but him.”
“So…what can we do now? Checkers? Scrabble? I think we’ve cleaned and polished and organized this place to the nth degree.”
He was just in his early forties, but Max seemed more like the kind of grandfather she’d longed for as a child, rather than someone just ten years older. She grinned back at him. “Actually, I have an appointment with the sheriff over our lunch hour.”
“You do have a dark and dangerous past.” He feigned horror. “I knew it.”
Laughing, she dropped her cell into her bag. “I think you’re safe here. In fact, knowing that I work with a nurse who bench-presses three hundred pounds makes me feel safe, too.”
She strolled across Main Street and cut across the lush green lawn of the courthouse. Following the signs, she skirted the massive stone building and went around to a back entry. The receptionist smiled and waved her toward a chair in the small waiting room outside several closed office doors.
A few moments later, a tall, well-built man in his mid-thirties came out. His khaki Dockers, white shirt and tooled leather belt were hardly like the uniforms of the police back in Dallas, but he emanated an air of quiet authority that no one could miss. “Miss Cantrell? I’m Wade Montgomery.”
She rose and shook his hand. “Thanks for seeing me today. I was afraid you might be off on some emergency, or something.”
He grinned. “Nothing earth
shaking so far today, but that changes by the minute. Come on back.”
She liked him at once. His manner was easygoing right down to the Stetson hanging on the rack by the door. He waited until she sat, then dropped into the swivel chair behind his desk.
“How long have you been here in town?” she asked.
“I grew up here, but moved away for college and didn’t come back until I became sheriff four years ago.” He studied her over steepled fingers. “I have the advantage, I guess, since I’m on the Home Free committee. I know you’re new in town, and have the place Jim Baxter used to lease—western edge of the K-Bar-C property, a half mile off the highway. And, I believe, you still have family here.”
“You have a good memory.”
He lifted a notebook at the side of his desk. “I cheated and looked you up.”
“I think I need a notebook like that. I lived here until I was ten, and there are so many people here that I don’t remember, or who seem vaguely familiar.” It left her with a strange sense of disconnectedness.
“Don’t let it bother you. I was away for a long time, too, and this town has changed a great deal.”
He was one of the few people who’d been open and friendly to her since she’d come to town. She wished she didn’t need to bring up her family’s troubled past. “I…guess you were in town eighteen months ago, then. My father…”
His affable expression faded to one of regret. “My deputies and I were clear across the county at a six-vehicle pile up on the interstate. By the time I arrived at the scene of your father’s accident, the ambulance had taken him to the hospital.”
“My father drove that road all his life. The weather was good, and that particular curve isn’t even sharp.” She felt her lower lip start to tremble and swallowed hard. “I just can’t understand how he could have veered off right there, in broad daylight.”
“Unfortunately, we see single-car accidents all the time. Someone is distracted, or dozes off for an instant. Maybe a deer bounds across the road and they swerve. Sometimes it’s alcohol, though your dad was fine. One guy I know was startled by a low-flying wild turkey that cracked his windshield. He ended up in the river.”
A Home in Hill Country (Harlequin Heartwarming) Page 7
