The Rancher's Return

by Carolyne Aarsen

  “So how long have the woman and her boy lived here?” He avoided his grandmother’s gaze. He doubted she appreciated the sudden topic switch.

  “Emma and Adam have been here about six months,” she said, looking over to where Adam kneeled in the dirt of the garden beside his mother, sorting potatoes. Emma’s hair, now free from her ponytail, slipped over her face as she bent over to drop potatoes in the pail. He had thought her hair was brown, but the sunlight picked out auburn highlights.

  “She’s a wonderful girl,” his grandmother continued. “Hard worker. Very devoted to her son. She loves being here on the ranch. She grew up on one, worked on her father’s ranch before she came here.”

  Carter dragged his attention back to his grandmother. “I’m sure she’s capable, or else Wade wouldn’t have hired her.”

  “She raised her boy without any help,” his grandmother went on, obviously warming to her topic. “I believe she even rode the rodeo for a while. Of course, that was before she had her son. She’s had her moments, but she’s such a strong Christian girl.”

  Carter’s only reply to his grandmother’s soliloquy in praise of Emma was an absent nod.

  “She’s had a difficult life, but you’d never know it. She doesn’t complain.”

  “Life’s hard for many people, Nana.”

  “I know it is. It’s been difficult watching my daughters making their mistakes. Your mom coming back here as a single mother—your aunt Denise returning as a divorced woman. Trouble was, they came here to hide. To lick their wounds. Neither have been the best example to your brother and your cousins of where to go when life is hard, as you said. So to remind you I’ve got something for you.” Nana slowly got to her feet. When Carter got up to help her, she waved him off. She walked into the house, and the door fell closed behind her. In the quiet she left behind, Carter heard Adam say something and caught Emma’s soft laugh in reply.

  He closed his eyes, memories falling over themselves. His son in the yard. Harry’s laugh. The way he loved riding horses—

  The wham of the door pulled him out of those painful memories. Nana sat down again, her hands resting on a paper-wrapped package lying on her lap.

  “Having this heart attack has been like a wake-up call for me in so many ways,” she said, her voice subdued and serious. “I feel like I have been given another chance to have some kind of influence in my grandchildren’s lives. So, on that note, this is for you.” She gave him the package. “I want you to open it up now so I can explain what this is about.”

  Carter frowned but did as his Nana asked. He unwrapped a Bible. He opened the book, leafing through it as if to show Nana that he appreciated the gesture, when all it did was create another wave of anger with the God the Bible talked about.

  He found the inscription page and read it.

  “To Carter, from your Nana. To help you find your way back home.”

  He released a light laugh. Home. Did he even have one anymore? The ranch wasn’t home if his son wasn’t here.

  Losing Sylvia when Harry was born had been hard enough to deal with. He’d been angry with God for taking away his wife so young, so soon. But he’d gotten through that.

  But for God to take Harry? When Carter had been working so hard to provide and take care of him?

  “There’s something else.” Nana gave him another small box. “This isn’t as significant as the Bible, but I wanted to give this to remind you of your roots and how important they are.”

  With a puzzled frown, Carter took the jeweler’s box and lifted the lid. Nestled inside lay a gold chain. He lifted it up, and his puzzlement grew. Hanging from the chain was a coarse gold nugget in a plain setting. It looked familiar.

  Then he glanced at Nana’s wrist. Empty.

  “Is this one of the charms from your bracelet?” he asked quietly, letting the sun play over the gold nugget.

  “Yes. It is.” Nana touched it with a forefinger, making it spin in the light.

  “But this is a necklace.”

  “I took the five charms from my bracelet and had each of them made into a necklace. I am giving one to each of the grandchildren.”

  “But the bracelet came from Grandpa—”

  “And the nuggets on the bracelet came from your great-great-grandmother Kamiskahk.”

  “I brought you potatoes, Nana Beck,” Adam called out, running toward them, holding up a pail.

  There it was again. The name his son used to address his grandmother coming from the lips of this little boy.

  It jarred him in some odd way he couldn’t define.

  Adam stopped when he saw what Carter held. “Wow, that’s so pretty.” He dropped his pail on the veranda with a “thunk” and walked toward Carter, his eyes on the necklace Carter still held up. “It sparkles.”

  In spite of his previous discomfort with the little boy, Carter smiled at the tone of reverence in Adam’s voice.

  “Gold fever is no respecter of class or age,” he said, swinging it back and forth, making it shimmer in the sun.

  “Is that a present for Nana Beck?” Adam asked.

  “No. It’s a present from me to him,” Nana said, glancing from Carter to Adam.

  “That’s silly. Nanas don’t give presents to big people.”

  “You’re not the only one I give presents to,” Nana Beck said with a smile.

  Carter couldn’t stop the flush of pain at the thought that his grandmother, who should be giving gifts to his son, was giving them to this little boy.

  “Adam, don’t bother Nana Beck right now.” Emma hurried up the walk to the veranda and pulled gently back on his shoulder. She glanced from Nana to Carter, an apologetic smile on her face. “Sorry to disturb your visit. Adam was a little eager to make his delivery.”

  “Did you see that pretty necklace that Mr. Carter has?” Adam pointed to the necklace that Carter had laid down on the Bible in his lap. “Is it real gold?”

  “Actually, it is,” Nana Beck said. “I got it made from a bracelet I used to wear. Did you know the story about the bracelet, Adam?”

  “There’s a story?” Adam asked, his voice pipingly eager.

  Carter looked away. Being around this boy grew harder each second in his presence. Harry had never heard the story about his Nana’s bracelet. The story was part of Harry’s legacy and history, and now this little boy, a complete stranger to him, would be hearing it.

  “Adam, honey, we should go,” Emma said quietly, as if she sensed Carter’s pain.

  “I want to hear the story,” Adam said.

  “Stay a moment,” Nana Beck urged. “Have some tea.”

  “No…I don’t think…” Emma protested.

  “That’s silly. Carter, why don’t you get Emma a mug, and please bring back a juice box and a bag of gummy snacks for Adam. They’re in the cupboard beside the mugs.”

  Carter gladly made his escape. Once in the kitchen, he rested his clenched hands on the counter, feeling an ache in the cold place in the center of his chest where his heart lay. He drew in a long, steadying breath. This was too hard. Every time Adam spoke, it was a vivid reminder of his own son.

  Carter closed his eyes and made himself relax. He had seen boys the age of his son’s before.

  Just not on the ranch where…

  Carter slammed his hands on the counter, then pushed himself straight. He had to get past this. He had to move on.

  And how was that supposed to happen as long as he still owned the ranch, a visible reminder of what he had lost?

  Chapter Two

  “…So August Beck looked across the river and into the eyes of a lovely Kootenai native named Kamiskahk,” Nana was saying, telling Emma and Adam the story of the nuggets when Carter returned to the veranda.

  Nana Beck shot Carter a quick glance as he set the mug down, poured Emma a cup of tea and gave Adam the juice box and gummies he’d found in Nana’s “treat cupboard.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Carter,” Adam said, but the little boy’s attention quickl
y shifted back to Nana.

  Emma sat on the floor of the veranda, her back against the pillar, her dark hair pushed away from her face looking at ease.

  “Sit down here,” he said, setting the chair by her.

  She held up her hand, but Carter moved the chair closer and then walked over to the railing beside his grandmother and settled himself on it, listening to the story as familiar to him as his grandmother’s face.

  “As August courted Kamiskahk, he discovered she had a pouch of gold nuggets that she’d gotten from her father,” Nana continued, her eyes bright, warming to the story she loved to tell. “Kamiskahk’s father had sworn her to secrecy, telling her that if others found out there was gold in the valley, they would take it over and things would not be good for their people.”

  “Why not?” Adam carefully opened the pouch of gummies and popped one in his mouth, his eyes wide.

  “Because Kamiskahk’s father knew how people could be seized by gold fever. So Kamiskahk kept her word, and never told anyone about the gold…except for August. And August was soon filled with gold fever. He left Kamiskahk and went looking. For months he searched, dug and panned, never finding even a trace of the gold. Then, one day, exhausted, cold, hungry and lonely, hunched over a gold pan in an icy creek, he thought of Kamiskahk and the love she held for him. He felt ashamed that he had walked away from her. August put away his shovel and his gold pan and returned to Kamiskahk’s village, humbly asking her to take him back. She did, and he never asked about where the nuggets came from again.”

  While Nana spoke, a gentle smile slipped across Emma’s face, and she leaned forward, as if to catch the story better.

  Then her eyes slid from Nana to Carter. For a moment their gazes held. Her smile faded away, and he saw the humor in her brown eyes change to sympathy.

  He didn’t want her to feel sorry for him. He wanted to see her smile again.

  “August Beck never did find out where the gold came from. What had become more important was the love August Beck learned to value over gold. He and Kamiskahk settled in this valley and had a son, Able Beck, who got the ranch and the nuggets. Able had a son named Bill Beck. My husband.” Nana sat back, a satisfied smile wrinkling her lined cheeks. “I loved the story so much that Bill, my late husband, had the nuggets made into a bracelet for me.”

  “That’s a wonderful story.” Emma’s voice was quiet, and her gaze slipped to the necklace lying on the Bible. “Is that made from the bracelet?”

  Nana Beck picked up the necklace, threading the gold chain through her fingers. “Yes. It is.” Her eyes shifted to Carter. “I wanted to give each of my grandchildren a part of that bracelet as a reminder of their heritage.”

  Emma cleared her throat and set her mug on the table between her and Nana Beck. “Thanks for the tea, but we should go. I promised Miranda I would help her with some sewing.”

  “Can I stay here, Mom?” Adam asked. “I don’t want to sew.”

  Emma knelt down and cupped his chin in her hand. “I know you don’t, but Mr. Carter hasn’t seen his nana for a long time, and I’m sure they want to visit alone.”

  Adam heaved a sigh, and then with a toss of his head he got up. “Bye, Nana Beck,” he muttered, picking up his juice box and gummies. He was about to go when Emma nudged him again.

  “Thanks for the treats,” he said.

  “You’re welcome,” Nana said with an indulgent smile.

  As they walked away, Adam gave Carter a wave. Then he followed his mother toward Wade and Miranda’s house. Carter’s old house.

  Carter drew his attention back to his grandmother, who watched him with an indulgent smile. “She’s a nice girl, isn’t she?” Nana said. “And pretty.”

  Carter gave his grandmother a smile. “You’re not very subtle, Nana.”

  She waved off his objections. “I’m too old to be subtle. I just had a heart attack. I’ve got things on my mind. And even though I haven’t seen much of you, I know you’re not happy.”

  Carter said nothing to that.

  Nana Beck sat back in her chair with a sigh. “I’ve had a chance to see things differently. That’s why I wanted to give you these presents now. In the future, if I’m not here, the nuggets will be a reminder of where you’ve come from. And the Bible will be a reminder of where you should be going.”

  Carter got up and set the gold nugget carefully back in the box. “So what am I supposed to do with this?”

  “I want you to give it to someone important in your life,” his nana said. “Someone who you care deeply about. Someone who is more important than the treasure in this world.”

  “Thanks for this, Nana. It’s a precious keepsake.” He snapped the velvet lid shut, then he carefully placed the box on the Bible. “But I don’t think I’ll be giving it to anyone.”

  “You never know what life will bring you, Carter, or where God will lead you in the future,” Nana said, a quiet note of admonition in her voice.

  “Well, I don’t like where God has brought me so far,” Carter said, looking down at the Bible. “I’m not going to trust God for my future. I’ll make my own plans.”

  He gave Nana a level look, wishing he didn’t feel a niggling sense of fear at his outspoken words.

  Nana reached over and gently brushed a lock of hair back from his forehead. “Be careful what you say, Carter. I know God is still holding you in His hands.”

  Carter said nothing to that.

  “But I also have something else to tell you,” she said quietly, looking past him to the yard and the hills beyond. “I’m moving to town. Shannon has been looking for places for me in Hartley Creek.”

  “You want to move off the ranch?” he asked, unsure he’d heard her correctly.

  “Not really. But Shannon thinks I should be closer to the hospital, and unfortunately I agree.”

  Carter sat back, absorbing this information. And as he did it was as if a huge weight had fallen off his shoulders. He’d never sell the ranch as long as it was Nana Beck’s home. But if she was leaving, then maybe he could too. And with the ranch sold, perhaps he could leave all the painful memories of the past behind.

  “So why’re you shoeing horses instead of getting Greg Beattie to do your farrier work?” Carter leaned against the sun-warmed wood of the barn, watching his foreman and old friend trimming hooves. Yesterday he had spent most of his day catching up with his grandmother and visiting with his cousin Shannon. It wasn’t until today that he had an opportunity to connect with Wade.

  Wade pushed his glasses up his nose and then grunted as he grabbed a pair of large clippers. “I like the challenge. And Greg’s been getting busier and harder to book. Lots of new acreages, and all the owners have horses.” Wade made quick work of clipping the horse’s hoof then let the foot down and stretched his back.

  Carter swatted a fly and let his eyes drift over the yard. From here he saw everything.

  Including the corral where Emma worked with a pair of horses; her son perched on the top rail of the corral fence. Part of him wanted to look away. The ranch held too many painful memories, but the corral held the harshest one of all.

  His son, lying lifeless on the ground after Wade had pulled him out of the open stock tank that served as a horse waterer.

  When she was pregnant, Sylvia had urged him to get rid of the large tank, saying it was too dangerous. Carter had dismissed her worries with a kiss. He and his brother and cousins had grown up with that tank. On hot days they had sat in it, cooling off in the waist-high water.

  He should have…

  Carter pushed the memory and guilt away, pain hard on their heels.

  “This Emma girl,” Carter said, “why did you hire her?”

  “I told you I needed to hire another hand to replace that useless character we had before.” Wade picked up the horse’s hoof again and began working at it with a rasp, getting it ready for a shoe.

  “I assumed you were going to hire a guy.”

  “She had the best qualifications
.” Wade shrugged. “I hope that’s not a problem.”

  Carter looked over at the corral again. Adam now sat on top of Banjo, and Emma led him around. He heard her voice, though he couldn’t make out what she said. Adam laughed and she patted his leg, grinning up at him.

  She turned and looked his way, then abruptly turned around.

  “It’s not a problem if she knows what she’s doing,” Carter said, turning his attention back to Wade.

  “She’s good. Really good. Has a great connection with horses, and some unique ideas about pasture management.” Wade tapped the horse’s hoof. He dropped it again and grabbed a horseshoe from the anvil.

  “So what’s her story?” Carter asked while Wade nailed down the shoe. “Why would she want to work here?”

  “She used to work her daddy’s ranch till he gambled it away. Says she loves ranch work, and it shows. She’s been a better hand than the guy I had for two weeks before I hired her.” He tapped in another nail. “She wants to talk to you about subdividing an acreage off the river property. Says she wants to settle down here.”

  “Really?” So that’s what her son was talking about when he said they had to ask him about the acreage.

  “Don’t sound so surprised. Some of us love it here,” Wade grunted as he tapped in another nail. Then he looked up, a horrified expression on his face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I know why you’ve stayed away. Of course being here is hard, and I get that—”

  “Can she afford to buy the acreage?” Carter asked, cutting off his friend’s apology. He felt rude, but he knew where Wade was headed.

  The same place he’d been going for the past year in any of their conversations and communications. The ranch was Carter’s home. It was time to come back. To get over what happened.

  Trouble was it wasn’t so simple. It was difficult enough dealing with the “if onlys” when he was away from the ranch. If only he hadn’t gone out on that gather. If only he’d stayed home instead of hiring that babysitter. If only he’d taken better care of his responsibilities, Harry wouldn’t have wandered out of the house and climbed on that corral fence. Wouldn’t have fallen—