The Rancher's Return

by Carolyne Aarsen

  “I can do them.”

  He waved his hand in a “gimme” gesture. “I’m just stiff. The work will do me good.”

  With a light laugh, she relinquished the brushes. “Okay. Adam and I will be in the house. Give me about half an hour.” Then she spun around and strode out of the shed.

  In the quiet she left in her wake, second thoughts followed. Could he really sit down in his old house and have dinner with Emma and Adam? Could he really act as if everything was okay?

  Carter shook his questions aside. It was time, he figured. If he was selling this ranch, it was time to lay some memories to rest, as well. Then he could walk away from this place with no second thoughts. No regrets.

  Emma set the third plate on the table, wondering for the umpteenth time what got into her when she invited Carter for dinner.

  Mistake. Mistake.

  The words had resonated through her head with each tick of the clock on the timer counting down when the casserole would be ready.

  The mushrooms were sautéing in the pan, and Adam lay sprawled on the floor behind the table. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but he was humming to himself, happy.

  “Today was a good day, wasn’t it, buddy?” she asked.

  “Yup.”

  “Did you enjoy the riding?”

  “Yup.”

  “What was the best part of the day?” Open-ended questions, she reminded herself. “The mushrooms.”

  “Why were they the best?”

  “Because.”

  Emma turned off the heat under the pan and walked around the table to where Adam lay putting together a puzzle. She crouched down and grinned at him.

  “Are you playing a game with me?”

  He looked up at her and flashed a grin. “Yup.”

  She rubbed the top of his head. “I wondered what you were up to. For a minute there you sounded like Mr. Carter.”

  “He doesn’t like to talk, does he?” Adam asked, reaching for another piece. Emma thought of the memories Carter had shared with her. He was more reserved around Adam, though.

  “Mr. Carter has a lot on his mind. That’s why he’s so quiet,” she said. “He’s not like your mommy, who likes to fill the empty spaces in conversation with lots and lots of words.” She picked up a puzzle piece and fitted it in an empty space, and then she pushed herself to her feet and turned around.

  Carter Beck stood in the doorway, a light frown creasing his forehead, and she wondered if he had heard what she and Adam were talking about.

  “Supper is ready,” she said, glancing nervously at the timer, deciding to pretend he hadn’t.

  “Smells good in here,” Carter said, taking a step farther into the kitchen. He angled his head, as if looking at Adam on the floor behind the table.

  Adam got up and slipped into the chair he usually sat at. He pointed at the place setting across from him. “That’s where you’re supposed to sit, Mr. Carter.”

  Carter gave him a quick nod but glanced over at Emma. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “I think I’ve got it under control. If you want to contribute, you can put these on the table.” She handed him the bowl holding the sautéed mushrooms, then gave him a careful smile, which he returned.

  She felt her cheeks flush and blamed it on the heat in the kitchen as she pulled open the oven door. The casserole bubbled, and steam slipped out from the lid.

  It went on the table as well, and then there was nothing left to do but sit down.

  Carter waited until she sat down. Just a small gesture, but it touched her. Whenever Karl came over to eat, he would serve himself even before she and her father sat down.

  When they were all seated, there was a moment of quiet. Then, to her surprise, Adam reached across the table, one hand outstretched to Emma, the other to Carter.

  Carter glanced from his hand to Emma, as if asking her what to do.

  “We usually pray before our meals,” she gently suggested, taking Adam’s hand.

  “And we hold hands,” Adam added.

  Carter gave a tight nod, then reached across the table and caught Adam’s hand. But Adam’s little gesture had put her in an uncomfortable position.

  “Mom, you have to hold Mr. Carter’s hand,” Adam said, giving her hand a squeeze. “That’s the way we always did it at Grandpa’s.”

  “Of course,” she said with a light laugh. As she put her hand in Carter’s, she felt ridiculously aware of the size of his hand and the callouses on his palms.

  Then she bowed her head, trying to focus her thoughts on God and not on the rough hand that held her own.

  “Thank You, Lord, for this food,” she prayed, letting herself be drawn into God’s presence. “Thank You for this day and the wonderful time we had outside in Your creation. Be with Miranda and Wade as they travel, and be with Wade’s parents. Be with Nana Beck as she looks for a place in town. Help her to be better. Bless this food unto our bodies and help us to be thankful for all You give us and help us to love You. Amen.”

  She kept her head bowed for a moment longer, then slipped her hands out of Adam’s and Carter’s.

  “So, I hope you like chicken casserole,” she said with false brightness as she got up to serve the food. “Miranda’s a great cook and does a fantastic job on this casserole. I’ve had it a bunch of times, so I’m sure you’ll like it. I’m pretty sure it’s hot enough. It was bubbling when I took it out of the stove, I mean, oven.”

  “Why are you talking so much, Mom?” Adam asked, handing Emma his plate.

  Because she was nervous. Because when they were outside, there was space and distance between her and Carter and Adam.

  Now they were all together in this small kitchen, and she felt as if there wasn’t enough room or enough air.

  But obviously she kept all this to herself while she shot her son a warning look. He frowned and opened his mouth as if to add more words of wisdom to the conversation.

  “Do you want some salad?” she asked him, cutting him off.

  He wrinkled his nose, thankfully distracted. “I don’t like salad.” He pulled his plate back, just to make sure she didn’t sneak some on while he wasn’t looking.

  Emma held her hand out for Carter’s plate, avoiding his gaze, excessively conscious of his presence and wishing for a moment she hadn’t invited him. But what else could she have done? Let him sit in a cabin all by himself?

  “Sure smells good,” Carter said, taking his plate from Emma.

  He filled the rest of his plate with salad and waited until she’d served herself to start eating. Again, a small courtesy, but it gave her a glimpse of how he treated women. He seemed at ease, which made Emma relax a bit. She was being silly. They had spent most of the day together. Why was she so conscious of him now?

  Because this was such a family moment, she thought, sprinkling salt over her food. A man, a woman and a child sharing a meal together.

  Her heart quavered as she set the salt shaker down. How often had she pictured herself, Karl and Adam sitting around their own kitchen table sharing a meal, just the three of them?

  She stabbed her salad, glancing over at Carter, determined to act naturally. “How are the mushrooms?”

  “Really good,” he said, giving her a cautious smile.

  “I think they taste like elastics,” Adam said.

  Emma laughed, and to her surprise, a smile twitched at the corner of Carter’s mouth.

  “Did you live here when you were little?” Adam asked Carter, stabbing a noodle from the casserole and holding it up for inspection.

  Carter’s only reply was a quick nod.

  “Were you borned here?” Adam continued, undaunted by Carter’s seeming reticence.

  “Yes. I was.”

  “On the ranch? Here?” Adam poked his finger down at the floor. “Actually, yeah.”

  “Was your boy borned here?”

  “Yes.” His reply was quiet, and Emma sensed Adam wasn’t going to get much more out of Carter.

 
“Did your wife choose home birth?” she asked, trying to maintain a semblance of conversation.

  “Not on purpose.” Carter gave her a quick smile but turned his attention back to his food.

  “I was borned in a hospital,” Adam offered. He glanced at Emma. “Why wasn’t I borned in a house?”

  “Because your mother is a scaredy-cat and liked to have doctors and medication handy,” she said, giving her son a wink so he would know she was kidding. A bit.

  “You’re not a scaredy-cat,” Adam said, mumbling around a mouthful of pasta. He turned back to Carter, determined to engage the man one way or the other. “My mommy and I were riding and we met a bear and my mommy didn’t get scared or anything. The horses got scared but my mommy told me to hang on and she made the horses get quiet again. Then the bear was gone. So my mommy is not a scaredy-cat.”

  This caught Carter’s attention. “Really? Where was that?”

  Emma glanced at Adam, half hoping he would handle the question for her, but Carter was looking at her and Adam was frowning at his plate.

  “Adam and I went on a short trip to the Ya Ha Tinda, past Sundre,” she said, glad to have fixed on a neutral topic. “We were up in the alpine, and a grizzly bear happened to wander across the trail.”

  “Really? Been a while since I’ve seen a grizzly. You must have been pretty tense.”

  “I was, but I had Adam to think about, and I couldn’t afford to get too scared.”

  “I imagine the horses freaked.”

  “They spun around and were heading back down the trail, but I had to get them turned around so I could see what was happening. Thankfully, Adam hung on, and I got things sorted out. By the time I did, the bear was gone.”

  “Wow. That’s some horsemanship.” Carter sounded impressed and Emma couldn’t help a flicker of pride.

  She shot him a quick glance, surprised to see him looking at her. Their eyes met, held, and a tiny spark of awareness flashed between them.

  Don’t go there, Emma thought. This is temporary.

  “My mommy is really brave,” Adam put in, breaking the moment. “Was Harry’s mommy brave?”

  Carter stiffened as Adam spoke. He blinked and then looked down at his half-finished casserole. He poked some of the noodles around then dropped his knife and fork on the plate with a clatter. “You know, this was great. But I think I’m full.” He shoved his chair back, the legs screeching on the worn linoleum, and strode to the counter, depositing his plate on it. “Thanks for dinner,” he said absently, and then he grabbed his hat off the end of the counter and left.

  “Is Mr. Carter mad?” Adam asked, lowering his hands to his lap, his lip quivering. “Did I make him mad?”

  Emma suspected that he had. And she also suspected that Carter’s anger was born out of loss. But the sorrow lacing her son’s voice cut her to the core.

  She reached over and stroked her son’s hand then took it in hers. “Mr. Carter is a very sad man. And I think that you remind him of his little boy, Harry.”

  This made Adam smile. “I do?” He swiped the back of his hand across his nose.

  “Yes, you do. Maybe you shouldn’t talk about Harry so much. Because we don’t want to make Mr. Carter sad again, okay?”

  Adam seemed to consider this, then nodded. “Okay.”

  “Now finish up your casserole and I’ll let you watch The Wind in the Willows while I’m cleaning up.”

  This was all the incentive he needed. Five minutes later, his plate was licked clean, his hands washed and he lay curled up in a chair in front of Wade and Miranda’s television, entertained by the adventures of Mole, Ratty and Toad.

  Emma made quick work of the dishes. There was half of the casserole left, which they could have for dinner tomorrow. As she covered it up and put it in the refrigerator, she wondered whether she would repeat dinner with Carter.

  Obviously Carter felt uncomfortable around Adam, and while she understood why, she didn’t know how to deal with this every day. It wasn’t fair to Adam, and it was too hard on her.

  She lowered the dishes into the soapy water, her mind and heart at war. She needed this job, but was it worth putting Adam through all this tension? She could try to keep Adam away from Carter but how to do that and help on the ranch at the same time? Besides, once the ranch was sold, she was on her way anyhow. Why postpone the decision?

  But then Carter would be left here alone. And that thought disturbed her on another level.

  Dear Lord, she prayed as she scrubbed the dishes, help me around this little mess.

  Twenty minutes later she cleaned up the last dish. She was about to leave for the living room when the phone rang.

  “Is this Miranda?” a woman’s voice asked when she picked up.

  “No. I’m sorry, Miranda and Wade will be gone for a while. This is Emma Minton.”

  “The girl who works on the ranch?”

  “That’s right.” Emma frowned. “Can I ask who is calling?”

  “I’m sorry. It’s Kim Groot. Miranda was telling me about you the last time I called. I’m…I’m Harry’s grandmother.”

  Chapter Six

  “You are Carter’s mother-in-law?” Emma clutched the handset, wishing Carter could have taken this call. This wasn’t her place. She shouldn’t be the one talking to this woman.

  “I’ve been staying in touch with Miranda, hoping to connect with Carter. She, uh, well, she called me to tell me…that Carter was back.” In the pause following this, Emma heard a light sniff, followed by a wavering intake of breath. “I’m so sorry. It’s just…I haven’t talked to Carter since Harry’s funeral. Is he…is he there?”

  “I’m sorry, no.” Emma leaned against the wall, clutching the handset. She felt a surge of pity for this woman who had lost so much. A daughter, a grandson and, it seemed, Carter, as well. “He’s staying in one of the cabins. I can take your number and get him to call you.”

  A sigh followed this. “You can try. My husband and I have been trying to call him on his cell phone, but he doesn’t answer.”

  Emma frowned, puzzled as to why Carter was avoiding Harry’s grandparents. Surely he would want to talk to them?

  She walked to the counter and pulled a pen and paper out of a drawer. “Give me your number and I’ll mention it to him.”

  “I think he knows it, but I’ll give you the information anyway.”

  Emma tucked the handset between her shoulder and ear while she scribbled down the number. “Okay. I think I’ve got it.”

  “Thanks so much,” Kim said. “When you see Carter, could you please tell him that we miss him? And that we love him.”

  “I’ll do that,” she said.

  She said goodbye, then wrote a note to Carter asking him to please call Kim Groot. She put Kim’s number under that and tacked it to the bulletin board under the piece of paper with the number of Wade’s parents’ home.

  She hesitated, wondering if she should call Wade and find out what was happening.

  Later, she told herself. First she had other things to deal with. She went to the living room. The television was still on, but Adam lay curled up on the couch, fast asleep.

  She knelt down beside him and stroked his hair away from his face, her heart growing soft at the sight of his relaxed features, his rosy cheeks. The utter innocence of her son asleep.

  And his utter vulnerability.

  As she fingered some hair away from his face, she thought again of the various hurts and disappointments he’d already had to deal with in his life. Karl. Her father’s death. Having to leave the ranch.

  And now the stress of Carter’s reaction to him.

  Again she reminded herself of the vow she made after Karl had left her and Adam. How she would always put Adam’s needs and care first. How his well-being was her first priority.

  And if being on the ranch was causing him problems, she had to make a decision.

  She wrapped an afghan around him, then bent over and fitted her arms under his knees and around his
shoulders. As she went to lift him, she stumbled.

  When did he get so heavy? She still thought of him as her little boy, but he wasn’t so little anymore. As she shifted him in her arms, she felt a stirring of nostalgia. She felt as if only a year had passed since she could cradle him close to her chest. Now his legs and head dangled over her arms. One day he would be taller than she.

  Shouldering the door open, she quashed that thought, far too aware of the responsibilities he created now. Bad enough that he would be starting school soon. She didn’t need to project her worries too far in the future.

  She stepped outside into the cool of the evening, his weight slowing her steps. His head lolled against her chest, and she looked down at him. He was so precious to her. He was all she had.

  And it was that realization that steeled her for what she had to do next.

  Once in the cabin, she managed to get his pajamas on without waking him too much. Then, when he was tucked in his bed, the blanket pulled up around his rosy cheeks, she sat a moment, watching him. He was her responsibility, and she was the only one who could protect him.

  When his breathing was deep and heavy, she pushed herself to her feet, fear thrumming through her.

  Please, Lord, she prayed as she stepped out of the cabin. Please let me make the right decision. Help me to trust You and to trust that You will help me take care of my boy.

  Dusk was gathering as she walked across the yard. Golden light glowed from the windows of Carter’s cabin.

  She sent up another quick prayer as she walked up the steps and knocked on the door.

  Carter opened the door, frowning at her. “Is everything okay?” The light of the cabin backlit him, throwing his features in shadow. He cut an imposing figure, and for a split second she wanted to change her mind. “Is Adam—”

  “Adam is sleeping,” she said, her hands clasped in front of her, determined to follow through on this. “Can I…can I talk to you?”

  Carter stepped aside, opening the door farther. “Sure. Of course. Come in.”

  Emma would have preferred to talk to him outside. He still made her uncomfortable, but saying no looked rude. So she nodded and stepped inside.