“I thought that was dogs,” Mia returned, looking down at Socks, who had lain quietly at her feet ever since Nate had pointed to the ground beside Mia and commanded him to stay.
“A dog won’t take you up into the mountains,” Nate said, still smiling. “Or carry your gear.”
“A dog won’t kick you,” Mia returned.
“True enough.” Nate grinned as he made another circuit of the corral. Then he stopped in front of Mia. “Hey, Dimples,” Nate said. He touched Jennifer’s cheek with one gloved finger. “You want to take a turn next?”
“You’ve called her that before. Why?” Mia asked.
“’Cause of the dimples at the corner of her mouth. And Grace has this cute nose. That’s how I tell them apart.”
Mia shot him a surprised look. “You can tell them apart? Most people can’t.”
“Can we go again?” Josh asked.
“I don’t want you boys to get stiff and sore,” Nate said. “So we’ll make a few more turns around the corral and then you can go play.”
Josh protested again.
“Honey, you have to listen to Nate—”
“We’ll go again tomorrow—”
Nate and Mia spoke at the same time, stopped at the same time and exchanged a wry smile.
“Sorry about that,” Nate said, giving her an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean to cut in on you.”
“That’s okay.” She returned his look with a smile.
And once again a connection rose up between them, as real and tangible as a touch.
Look away. Look away. Nothing to see here.
Other Mother’s annoying voice cut in and the moment was shattered by reality.
She looked away, fussing with Jennifer just as Nate turned and led the boys a few more times around the corral. She set her little girl in the stroller beside her sleeping sister and turned them away from the sun, pushing the stroller back and forth to keep Jennifer quiet.
Jennifer squawked a few more times but then Socks stood up, looking over the edge of the stroller, his tongue out, his soft eyes looking so friendly. Mia had to smile and Jennifer started laughing.
Nate’s animals—keeping my kids happy and entertained, Mia thought, shooting another quick look over her shoulder at Nate. He was tying up the horses, joking with the boys, telling them silly stories.
He puzzled her. The first time she met him he seemed turned off by the fact that she had kids. When Nico had glommed on to him at the hospital, he looked genuinely uncomfortable.
Yet here he was, chatting with Josh and Nico like he had known them forever and was able to tell her girls apart. Something not even Evangeline, one of her best friends, could do.
“Mommy, did you see me? Could you see me? Did you take a picture?” Josh clambered over the fence, his words spilling out in a stream of pure joy.
“No, honey, I didn’t take a picture.” Another loss squeezed her heart. Her camera, and the past year’s moments had been lost in the fire.
“But you always take pictures,” Josh said, puzzlement threading his voice.
“I know, honey, but my camera—” And goodness, if her voice didn’t break just as Nate and Nico climbed over the fence to join them.
She gripped the handles of the stroller, determined not to show her weakness in front of this man, who was slowly taking up space in her mind. And then she felt his hand on her shoulder, as if he understood what she was grieving.
She swallowed, then swallowed again.
“So, boys, we’re done. Why don’t you go and play?” Nate suggested, his deep voice quiet.
To Mia’s surprise they simply nodded and ran off, Josh still talking excitedly about their adventures of the past hour.
“Are you okay?” Nate asked.
Mia waved off his concern, but to her consternation, he kept his hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. “I keep forgetting how much you lost in that fire,” he said.
She released a hard laugh. “Everything but the clothes on our backs, the stuff I had in the girls’ diaper bag and my minivan.” Then she caught herself, and drew in a long, slow breath, centering herself on what was important. “I’m thankful for what I have and I’m thankful for the support I’ve gotten from my friends. God is good.”
Nate’s brows lifted in surprise. “You can say that in spite of everything that’s happened to you?”
His mouth quirked up in an uncertain smile.
“He is,” she returned. “Things haven’t been great and I’ve questioned what has happened to my life, but through it all I’ve felt God near me, supporting and strengthening me.”
Nate’s eyes narrowed. Seemed to sink back and retreat. “That’s a blessing. I wish I could say the same with as much conviction.”
She caught the tail end of an old bitterness in his voice. A resignation toward some past event. “What do you mean?”
Nate seemed to contemplate her gentle probing. Then he shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I better go take care of the horses.”
He vaulted over the fence in one easy motion, striding toward his horses, his gait full of purpose.
But she guessed from his abrupt movements, the faint slouch of resentment in his shoulders, that what was “done” hadn’t been completely eradicated from his life.
She knew he was a foster child. It didn’t take much of a step to presume that the reason he’d been put into Denny’s family haunted him still.
Don’t delve into his life. You’ve got enough going on in yours.
Mia knew that this time Other Mother was right.
As she walked away, pushing the stroller over the rough ground, she couldn’t help a quick glance over her shoulder.
She was dismayed to see Nate, clutching the reins of the horses, watching her, his features shadowed under the brim of his hat.
* * *
“Easy, Sierra.” Nate clucked to Denny’s horse. He nudged him in the side, urging the large chestnut bay through the gate leading from the cattle pasture to the horse pasture. Sierra balked and spun around as if to go back to the cows they had just checked on. As Nate turned him around to face the gate again.
Sierra turned, as if to head back to the horse pasture to join the other horses. “You need to learn some manners,” Nate said, making the horse stay. Sierra tossed his head and jumped, but Nate kept firm control of the reins. “I’ll need to work with you later,” Nate warned as he finally let him go back to join his and Denny’s two other horses.
This morning Mia hadn’t come to help him with the boys, which suited him just fine. He needed space from her. Space to center himself.
He knew helping Nico would be a complication for him, but how could he say no when the kid needed so much? When the boy’s mother could use every bit of help sent her way? But he hadn’t counted on the attraction that sparked between him and Mia when they were together. It was as if she filled a place in his heart he hadn’t known was empty until he met her.
And that scared him.
He dismounted, quickly unsaddled Sierra, brushed him down and then led him back to the pasture where the other horses whinnied in greeting.
He tugged his truck keys out of his blue-jeans pocket and checked his shirt pocket for his cell phone. A quick brush of his hands over his pants and he was ready to go. He didn’t figure on being back at the ranch until after supper again.
He climbed over the fence separating the horse pasture from the ranch yard and strode across the packed dirt, swinging his keys on his index finger.
And then he came to a stop.
Mia’s van was still parked on the yard. She was supposed to have been gone by now.
But the hood was up, the sliding door open. And he could hear one of the girls crying. Obviously, something was wrong.
Denny
was still working and Evangeline’s car was gone, as well, so it was up to him to find out what.
Tamping down his own misgivings, Nate hurried over. From this point all he could see were Mia’s legs in the front of the van, the rest of her bent over the engine.
“Nate. You are here,” he heard Josh call out from the inside of the van.
Mia pulled back so abruptly she banged her head on the hood. She cried out and grabbed her head, then grimaced as she looked at Nate.
“You okay?”
Mia winced, then rubbed her head. “Yeah. I’m fine. But something’s wrong with the van. When I started it the oil light came on. Which doesn’t make sense because I just got an oil change on it before...before the fire.”
“Did you turn it off right away?” Nate asked, pulling the dipstick out.
“Yeah. I didn’t dare let it run.”
“Smart girl,” he said, wiping the dipstick off on the lower edge of his pant leg. He slipped the dipstick back in, pulled it out again, but nothing registered. Strange.
He bent down to look under the van and then he saw a greasy spot of oil on the dirt. He crouched down and looked up into the engine. “I see the problem. There’s no oil plug in the line. All the oil has drained out.”
“But I drove it to the therapist the other day.”
“The plug was probably not put in properly and jiggled loose on the road back into the ranch,” Nate guessed. “Good thing it didn’t happen sooner or you would have seized up the engine and been stranded halfway between here and Cranbrook.”
Mia pulled her hand over her face, releasing another sigh. “This is not good.”
“You needed to see the insurance guy today, didn’t you?”
“He’s leaving tomorrow and won’t be back in the office until next week Wednesday. I need to get my claim started as soon as possible. I can’t keep staying here at the ranch.”
“I’m sure Denny and Evangeline don’t mind having you here,” Nate said, tightening the dipstick and closing the hood of the van, the clang of it reverberating over the yard with a sense of finality.
“I know they don’t,” she said, releasing a sigh. “But they have Ella, and Evangeline does enough running around back and forth to town every night. As well as having her own stuff to deal with from the fire and they’re planning a wedding. Me and my four extra blessings definitely complicate things for them.”
“But your kids are such cute blessings.” As soon as the words left his mouth he felt like doing a face palm. Not the way to keep your distance, Lyster.
But it earned him a smile from Mia. “I think so but I’m prejudiced.” And then she looked at her kids and in spite of all the stuff that life had thrown at her, Nate saw a gentle smile curve her lips.
She didn’t resent the presence of these kids in her life one iota. Not a jot.
He wiped his hands again and looked at the kids, then at his truck parked by his stock trailer across the yard. It was a double cab and if they squeezed, they could put the car seats and one of the kids in the back. The console in the front flipped up, which meant Josh could sit there.
“I have to go into town,” Nate said. “I could take you.”
Mia’s shake of her head was automatic. Nate knew that by now. “No. It’s okay. I’ll just go next week.”
“You need to get things started as soon as possible,” Nate said. “I’m going, anyway. Give me a few more minutes and we can get the kids moved around.”
Mia was about to shake her head again and then he saw her pull in a deep breath of resignation. She shot him a look of sheer gratitude, but still seemed to feel the need to add one more token protest. “Are you sure?”
Nate didn’t even bother replying. He pulled the van door open and asked Nico and Josh to come out. “You take out Grace’s car seat, I’ll catch Jennifer’s,” he said to Mia, looking down at Jennifer, who was grinning a drooly smile. He grinned back at her. She waved her hands and giggled and he felt a curious hitch in his heart.
Again, enough. He unbuckled her car seat and carried her, seat and all, back to his truck.
Fifteen minutes later the kids were all buckled in and they were on their way. Five minutes into the trip the twins fell asleep and Nico sat quietly, playing with the old Nintendo.
“This is a great day,” Josh said, sitting up straight, his eyes glued to the road as if he had never seen it before. “I got to ride a horse and I get to sit in the front of Nate’s truck.”
“Mr. Lyster,” Mia gently corrected.
“I don’t care if he calls me by my first name,” Nate said, waving off her protest. “Mr. Lyster sounds like a character from a kid’s book.”
“Why do I have to call him Mr. Lyster when you call him Nate?” Josh pressed.
“Because it’s polite, that’s why,” she explained in a patient voice.
“Now I feel old,” Nate joked.
“You’re hardly old,” Mia returned. “I’m sure you still buy green bananas.”
Nate chuckled at that. “The few times I go grocery shopping.”
“I understand you don’t have your own place?”
“I mostly rent when I need to stay in one place for a while to work with the horses. I think the last place I called home was the Norquest ranch.”
“How long were you there?”
“I moved onto the ranch when I was twelve. Stayed there until Denny and Lila got divorced and Denny had to sell the ranch.”
“Is that when you started working with cutting horses?”
“I started before that. Before I got to the ranch.”
“Did the Norquests raise cutting horses?”
Nate leaned back, his wrist resting on the top of the steering wheel as he slipped back to the past again. “Nope. Karl did. My stepfather.”
Mia was quiet a moment as if digesting this information. As if trying to figure out the convoluted path Nate’s life had taken to end up at the Norquests’. He wasn’t about to tell her.
“So what does a cutting horse do?” she asked, thankfully veering away from that topic.
“You got ten hours?” he asked, slanting her a grin.
“Twenty-four minutes,” she returned.
He just laughed, surprised how easy she was to be around. “It’s not that interesting.”
“I’m interested,” Mia put in. “Tell me.”
“Basically, a cutting horse is used to cut animals out of the herd when they’re out on pasture. If you have a calf you want to vaccinate, or a cow you want to check, a cutting horse can separate them and get them where you want them. It’s how animals were handled out on the open range and still are on the larger spreads. Over the years it turned into a competition. That’s what I do.”
“And how do you do that?”
“Well, that’s where the ten hours of explanation comes in.”
“Mommy, I’m tired,” Josh said with a yawn.
“Just lay your head on my lap, honey.”
“Told you it wasn’t interesting,” Nate said.
“Busy morning for him.” Mia stroked his hair out of his eyes. “By the way, thanks again for working with the boys. That’s all Josh could talk about afterwards.”
And all Nate could think about.
“No problem,” he said. “They’re good boys. You’ve done well with them.” He shot a quick glance back at Nico, who looked intent on the Nintendo, but Nate sensed he was listening to every word.
“It’s never enough. I love my kids and I’d like to be the ideal mother, but I’m too busy raising them.”
“That covers a lot, in my books,” Nate said with a wry note in his voice. “And I think you’re doing okay. No. That’s wrong. Considering your circumstances, you’re doing amazing.”
Mia gave him a quick smile, t
hen looked ahead, but Nate saw a faint flush reddening her cheeks as she fingered Josh’s hair away from his face. Was she embarrassed?
“That’s sweet of you to say so.”
That was him. Sweet as candy floss. And as long lasting.
Nate forced his attention back to his driving. Being around Mia seemed so easy in one way and yet complicated in another. He shot a quick look at Josh, then his eyes flicked up to Mia.
Only to find her looking at him.
He quickly tore his gaze away the same time she averted her eyes, as well.
Silence sprawled between them, filling the space in the cab. And the rest of the way to town, though Nate kept his eyes on the road, his attention was split between his driving and Mia’s gentle movements of her hand on Josh’s head.
“Where do I need to drop you off?” Nate asked finally as he turned off the highway and into the town.
“On Fernie Avenue, just off Main,” Mia said, gently shaking Josh to wake him.
He nodded but then, as he turned onto Main Street, he felt a clench of dismay as he saw the blackened hulk of what was once Mia’s flower shop and home. Menacing sheets of dark soot stained the brick front and the windows stared like vacant eyes, their glass broken and shattered. The front door was boarded up, creating a sense of finality. This business was over. Done.
“Oh, dear,” Mia whispered beside him as they drove past. “What a mess.”
“Are you allowed to go in?”
“Jeff Deptuck called me yesterday. Said it was safe to look through the main floor but that the upstairs was off-limits. I was hoping to see if anything was left...” Her voice faltered and she drew in a shaky breath.
“Are you sure you want to?”
“No, but I feel I should.”
“We can go after you see the insurance guy. I’ll come with you.”
Mia gave him a grateful look. “That would be nice. I’ll see if Evangeline can watch the kids. I don’t want them to see their old home.”
Nate acknowledged that with a quick nod as he turned onto Fernie Avenue and parked the truck.
“I’ll get the stroller,” he said. “You take care of the kids.”
And before Mia could protest he was out of the truck and pulling the collapsed stroller out of the box. He tried to unfold it but the various latches and hooks confounded him.
A Father In The Making Page 7
