Her Cowboy Reunion

by Ruth Logan Herne

  Two tips: Don’t sweat the small stuff. Life sends plenty of big worries, the small ones don’t merit your time.

  Second tip: Don’t waste time. Seasons come and go, and it’s a rhythm. You mess up the rhythm, you mess up the year.

  I’m leaving the rest for Mack to handle, but I must add this: I don’t know you ladies. Never had a real chance to meet you or know you, and that’s a mistake I can never fix. But I can give you a piece of my dream. If it’s not what you thought, well, give it back, and that’s okay. But a smart woman gives things a chance and there’s something about horses and lambs and shepherds and the Good Book and all that goes with it. All I can ask is that you give it your best shot, and your forgiveness for not being the uncle I should have been all along.

  Sean Michael Fitzgerald

  Heath forced down the lump forming beneath his Adam’s apple, because Sean’s message hit home, even more since Lizzie appeared on the ranch.

  “She is looking much better,” Harve noted as the twin lambs bleated from the adjoining stall. Hearing them, the ewe raised her head in concern. “I’ll keep an eye on her,” Harve continued. “You go back to finish up. Crisis averted.”

  “Because of Liz.” Heath stood and crossed the pen to where Lizzie was standing. “You saved her life, and possibly the lives of those two babies. If we’d waited, we might have lost her.” He looked her in the eye. “Thank you.”

  She didn’t look at him. She trained her attention on the ewe and spoke softly. “A sick mother should never be left alone. A little tender loving care goes a long way when needed.”

  He nodded, but she tossed him a look as she moved away. A look of regret and disappointment. In him? It sure felt like it.

  Then Corrie looped her arm through Liz’s like she’d done for as long as Heath remembered. “Mothers and young ones need tending, surely as the sun rises in the morning. Seeing to them has been one of the great joys of my life. And it’s good to see this extends to all God’s creatures, Lizzie-Beth.”

  Heath watched them go from his spot in the stall.

  “She’s kind of handy to have around, I’d say.”

  He’d forgotten about Mack. He slapped a hand to the nape of his neck and frowned. “She’s got a way with horses and it’s no secret we needed some help with that.”

  “Hmm.” Mack left it at that as he closed up his leather bag. “I’ll go over the details with Lizzie up at the house. Then I’ll come back and meet with the other sisters as they arrive.”

  “Thanks, Mack.”

  “No problem.”

  Harve frowned at him once Mack had left. “You know I’ve got this and Wick’s up front.” He meant the foremost lambing shed.

  Heath moved out of the stall as Harve stepped back in. “I’m going to have a look around. Just to see.”

  Harve pressed his lips tight, gaze down.

  There was nothing to see at the moment, and the reason he was avoiding the house was to avoid that look. The one he’d glimpsed in Lizzie’s gaze. Because maybe if he’d been a better man back then, things would be different now.

  “Dad!” Zeke knew not to be loud around the sheep, but the excitement in his voice resounded through the mock whisper. “Look what happened. Come see!”

  When Heath spotted a tiny white tooth in a sealed plastic bag, he hauled Zeke up into his arms and hugged him tight.

  Second-guessing the past was stupid when his present was so vitally alive—and missing a first tooth. “That’s awesome, dude.”

  “I know! Now I have to put it under my pillow and see what happens. So the Tooth Fairy will come. Right?”

  “Umm. Sure. That’s what we’ll do. Want me to put it in my pocket? Keep it safe for you?”

  “Yes, sir!” Zeke’s grin didn’t just warm his heart. It owned it. “Can we go show everyone? Cookie said they’ll all be so happy for me!”

  For Zeke he’d do anything, even facing down those old regrets, but when they got to the house, Lizzie had gone back to the stables. When Zeke pestered to go see her, Corrie bent low. “I think she’s sleeping, little man. She had a long night and she was pretty tuckered out. How about if Dad takes a picture and you can show her in the morning?”

  His lower lip thrust out. “But I really wanted her to see it tonight. Before the Tooth Fairy takes it away.”

  “We could wait until tomorrow night to put it under your pillow,” suggested Heath. “Then you can show Lizzie in the morning.”

  “The Tooth Fairy won’t mind?” That thought made his eyes go round. “She can come tomorrow night instead?”

  “Absolutely, partner.”

  “Then let’s do that.” Zeke thrust his hand into Heath’s. “I don’t mind waiting, Dad. Because I want Lizzie—”

  Heath arched a brow.

  “Miss Lizzie to be so happy for me, too,” he corrected himself. “Because that makes everything special.”

  Corrie smiled. And Harve’s silence in the barn punctuated the air, making him wonder why they didn’t just come out and say what they were thinking.

  Because you’ll get defensive and overreact.

  He’d been doing both for too long. But with so many plates spinning in the air, he wasn’t sure how to stop. Take a breath. Be a nice guy again.

  But if this many people were tiptoeing around him, he needed to wise up. And as soon as he could take a deep breath, he’d do just that.

  * * *

  “Liz?”

  Lizzie scrunched her pillow into a tighter ball and rolled over, but the annoying voice sounded again.

  “Liz? Are you awake? It’s Heath.”

  Did he think she didn’t recognize his voice? She jammed the pillow over her face for a few seconds before tossing it aside and creeping to the door. “Of course I wasn’t awake,” she whispered when she opened the door. “It’s three thirty in the morning. No one is awake by choice at this hour, Heath. Except you.”

  “Rosie is in labor,” he explained. “Harve wants me to wait with him at the hospital but I need someone to watch Zeke.”

  “Zeke, who is sound asleep right now?” She yawned. “You woke me up to ask me to watch a sleeping child?”

  “He’ll be up in a few hours, and I figured it was smarter to talk to someone rather than leave a note. Listen, never mind...” He began to back away. “I can wake the little guy and take him along.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I’ll watch him. What are you waiting for?” She motioned to the stairs. “Go keep your friends company as they welcome their child into the world.” She didn’t say what she was thinking, that she’d have given anything to have that kind of support from him twelve years ago.

  She’d thought she’d dealt with that time of sadness. Maybe being here, with Heath, stirred a pot that had been simmering all these years.

  “Thanks.” He started away, then turned back. “Rosie’s lost babies in the past so they’re both kind of scared. More than most, I expect.”

  Oh, her heart.

  To hear the emotion in his voice over someone else’s sadness—and nothing for their own. She had to tamp down an emotional surge before she said too much. “Go.”

  He took the stairs quickly but quietly. The soft click of the stable door marked his exit.

  She tiptoed back into the room, grabbed her laptop and slipped downstairs. She peeked into Girlie’s stall.

  All was well.

  She crossed the chilled grass and welcomed the warmth of the big house once she got inside. She made a quick cup of coffee, then curled up in a wide-backed chair, opened her laptop and tried to crunch figures.

  Despite her efforts, all she could see was Heath’s focus and concentration as he labored to save a ewe’s life. One ewe, out of a few thousand.

  Was the ewe that important? Clearly she was.

  She opened a new doc file and began
again, starting with the ewe’s mistaken trail ride, into the hills. And how a dedicated shepherd rode through the night to bring mother and children home. She didn’t make Heath the focus. She used Aldo for that, the small, tan-skinned shepherd, putting the needs of the animals foremost.

  By the time she was done, she had a solid article about a true cowboy, the kind of thing that showed the Western heart, beating true.

  It read differently than her previous stories. More depth. More emotion. Was that because of the circumstance or the cowboys? Both...and maybe her, too.

  The patter of footsteps came her way just before seven o’clock. “Miss Lizzie?” Zeke slid to a stop at the end of the short hall linking the front of the big house to the back wing. “Is my dad out here?”

  “He’s not,” she replied as she set the computer aside. “He’s with Rosie and Harve because they think the baby’s about to be born. So Daddy asked me to keep an eye on you. Okay?”

  “The baby might be born today?” His eyes went wide when he lifted two dark, little brows. His teeth flashed white in a bright grin, revealing a tiny new gap. “This might be the best day ever! First, there’s this.” He opened his mouth extra wide and grinned, showing off the empty front space. “I wanted to show you last night, but Dad said you needed to get some sleep.”

  She smiled at the boy. “He was right, so thank you both. Did you put it under your pillow?”

  He shook his head, surprising her. “I wanted you to see it, and if the fairy tooked it away, you would never ever get to see it. But you can see it today and then we can put it under my pillow tonight. Okay?”

  “More than okay,” she assured him. “And thank you so much for thinking of me. That was really nice of you to do, Zeke-man.”

  “Well, Daddy and I both kinda did it.”

  His innocent words made her heart leap. She tamped it down quickly. “You hungry?”

  He shook his head.

  “Thirsty?”

  “Can I have chocolate milk?”

  She had no idea if Cookie kept chocolate milk on hand, but she’d seen chocolate syrup in the fridge. “Sure can.”

  “And maybe toast,” he added. He followed her into the kitchen and pulled himself up onto one of the tall stools. She had to stop herself from cautioning him to not to fall. He handled the climb and the balance with the ease of an expert.

  “Cinnamon sugar toast?”

  “Yes!” He giggled. “My favorites!”

  “Glad to oblige, my friend.” She made the toast and used the handheld frother to mix his chocolate milk, filling the glass with creamy bubbles. When she handed it to him, his eyes went round.

  “It’s like a milk shake.” He whispered the words as he sipped the milk. “You should tell my dad how to make it this good, I bet he doesn’t even know! You can help him!”

  She wasn’t sure his dad would welcome her advice, but she agreed. “I’ll tell him. So what are you and I going to do today? After we check the new mama sheep, of course.”

  “I think we’re supposed to go on a horseback ride.” He peered up at the calendar with a scrunched brow. “Do I get to stay here all day?”

  “You do. Rosie won’t be watching you for a while because she’ll be busy with the baby.”

  “You can’t leave babies alone,” he assured her. “When I’m with Rosie-Posie, I can’t do too much because she has to watch ’Lencia’s babies now. They’re so little and they just crawl around and mess up my toys. Even if I put the toys on the couch, they can reach them now.”

  “Two babies?”

  He made a grumpy face and nodded.

  “I bet they’re cute,” she went on as she brewed fresh coffee.

  “They kinda smell bad sometimes, but they smile at me when I make stuff for them. Then they wreck it,” he added. “But on this day it’s just you and me doin’ stuff.” He looked up, expectant. “Like riding a horse together. That’s something we could do!” Anticipation brightened his eyes.

  “Do you have a helmet?”

  He nodded.

  “Then we’re on, my friend. After breakfast. And after we check the mama sheep. Honey’s Money is a good mount and they didn’t take her into the hills.” Honey was a placid but bright-moving ranch horse. Old enough to be trustworthy and young enough to work the milling sheep as needed.

  He drew those little brows tight, as if concerned. “It’s a ewe, Miss Lizzie. A mama sheep is always a ewe.” His tone wasn’t impertinent, but he sure sounded like he might be doubting her intelligence, so she leaned in and met him eye-to-eye.

  “A ewe can still be a mama sheep. The terms can be synonymous if the sheep has had a baby. So she’s a ewe...” She lifted a brow and held his gaze to make her point. “But she’s also a mother or mama sheep. And where I come from, little boys don’t correct their elders.”

  “Their what?” He frowned, surprised.

  “Grown-ups. Little boys listen and learn, and they don’t boss grown-ups around.”

  “Oh.” Guilt made him cringe. “My dad says that, too.”

  “Your dad and I are in complete agreement. Once you’re done, let’s head to the barn.”

  He chugged his chocolate milk in seconds and grabbed the rest of his toast. “I can eat this on the way. Come on!” He grabbed her hand in his.

  And held an instant part of her heart, as well.

  “I love helping with the farm,” he told her, skipping alongside once they cleared the steps. “I love big, huge barns and horsies and all of it. But mostly I love the sheep and the little lambs. They make me smile.”

  “Me, too.”

  He peered up, interested. “Did you have a horse when you were little, Miss Lizzie?”

  She had. A big, beautiful bay mare that sensed her every move. A marvelous jumper, a sterling competitor. Gone now, like all the rest. She swallowed around a lump in her throat and nodded. “I did. Her name was Maeve and she was my special friend.”

  “That’s a funny name for a horse.”

  “I suppose you think Honey’s Money is normal?”

  His expression said it was.

  “I lived on an Irish farm and a lot of the horses had Irish names.” She didn’t call Claremorris home. The expansive holding hadn’t been home to her in decades, but she’d missed working the horse barn. Feeding, tending, grooming, riding. She hadn’t realized how much until she’d stepped into her current position, a chance that felt like home. A real home with a real job.

  Zeke released her hand and raced into the barn. She started to chase after him, then realized the boy knew his way around better than she did. He paused at the right stall, stepped up on a rail, and peered in. “One happy sheep!” he announced in an excited but soft voice. “And two little lambs!”

  The discontented cries of the lambs had changed to quiet bleats of satisfaction overnight. The ewe appeared better. One hundred percent improved. She watched the babies snuggle in against their mother’s abundant udder as they dozed off.

  Sweet contentment had replaced angst and worry.

  Successful mother. Satisfied babies. The dream come true that didn’t always come out that way.

  “I think that baby is so happy.”

  Zeke’s little voice broke her mental musings. “Why’s that, my friend?”

  “Well, she’s got a mama to snuggle her.” His matter-of-fact tone was belied by the longing marking his face and his gray-blue eyes. “I think my mama used to snuggle me just like that. When I was little,” he added.

  The hunger in his gaze softened the part of her heart she’d put on hold long ago. “I’m sure she did.”

  “My dad misses her sometimes.” His voice turned more pragmatic again. “He gets that funny look when I talk about her, so then I don’t talk about her so much. Can we ride now?”

  They sure could. Anything to get out of talking about lost mo
thers and sad children. She’d lived the scenario, losing her mother when she was just shy of six years old, but Zeke had one big difference. His father loved him. Doted on him.

  Tim Fitzgerald loved Tim Fitzgerald. He’d never pretended his girls meant much. In return, the three sisters had grown up between Corrie’s loving kindness and their grandparents’ somewhat aristocratic affection. It could have been so much worse, she knew, but she’d learned that wealth and status didn’t replace love and that was a valuable lesson.

  She helped Zeke down from the rail. “Let’s get Honey ready, shall we?”

  “Sure!”

  She snugged the boy in front of her once the horse was saddled and headed across the adjacent field.

  Rugged hills became mountains to the north and northwest. The wide valley continued beyond the ranch, in the direction of Shepherd’s Crossing. As they moved uphill, she spotted other homes, other farms, sporadically spaced, and when they got to an intermediate ledge, the distant image of a town came into view. From here, she couldn’t see the decay, the flaking paint, the listing shutters. From here the town offered an image of what it had been before times got hard. Small. Compact. Cozy.

  The valley splayed green and lush as the spring greening moved up the hills. Flat land spread from side to side, and the curve of a creek or small river marked an almost central path with mountains to their back. The beauty of the land lay different than Kentucky and light years from Louisville.

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She withdrew it carefully, keeping a snug hold on Zeke. No baby yet, maybe C-section. I know I shouldn’t worry, but I am. Thanks for watching little man.

  “Is that from my dad? Did Rosie-Posie have the baby?”

  She kept the details to herself and tried to sound relaxed. “Not yet, but they think it will be soon.”

  Zeke turned his head. “Rosie-Posie says we can pray anywhere.” His voice and expression turned serious. “It’s not just for goin’ to church and stuff, so maybe you and me can pray for her and for the baby and for my frog that got stepped on last week. Because I miss my froggie a lot. Okay?”