Second-Chance Cowboy

by Carolyne Aarsen

  “You can be proud of what you’ve done.”

  “It’s all about resale value,” Tabitha said as she bent over to pick up a stray plastic bag that had blown into the yard and tuck it in her pocket.

  “And what will you do once you sell?” He wished he could sound more casual about it, and it bothered him that he couldn’t.

  Tabitha paused, her eyes grazing the hills beyond the house, and for the briefest moment Morgan caught a look of yearning on her face. As if she wished things were different. But then her features straightened and she looked directly at him.

  “Then I walk away from Cedar Ridge and never look back.”

  That hit him like a physical blow.

  Did he think Tabitha would change her mind because he shared a few happy experiences?

  Would he never learn?

  * * *

  “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid—you are worth more than many sparrows.”

  Pastor Blakely looked up as he closed the Bible, a gentle smile on his face as he looked out over the congregation. “I always get such comfort from this piece of Scripture,” he said. “Sparrows have never held much value, and yet God is telling us that He watches over them too. And that if He watches over them, how much more does He watch over us? How valuable does that make each of us?”

  Tabitha clung to her open Bible, the pastor’s words resonating with her.

  She looked down at the Bible in her lap, shaking her head at the sight of the scrambled letters in front of her. Most of her life had been spent making connections between the squiggles she saw on the paper and the words they represented. Her memory and recall were amazing but they had all been coping skills she’d perfected in her lifelong struggle with dyslexia. Something that was only diagnosed when she was in junior high, a couple of years before she had come to Cedar Ridge.

  A caring teacher had finally explained to her why reading was so difficult for her compared to her classmates. Tabitha had found out that there were various levels and kinds of dyslexia, and while hers wasn’t as extreme as some, it was still a tremendous amount of work for her to read. Her dyslexia was exacerbated by the constant moving. So when Tabitha, her sister, Leanne, and their father had moved to Cedar Ridge, it was simply one more barrier, one more mountain to climb. She’d struggled along as much as she could, hiding her difficulties from everyone, including Morgan. For the most part she managed, and she and Morgan had never shared any classes.

  Then she got Morgan’s mother as an English teacher in the first term of Grade Twelve and things went downhill from there. Mrs. Walsh never approved of Tabitha as Morgan’s girlfriend, and Tabitha resorted to her usual antics in class to hide her disability and her frustration with Mrs. Walsh’s assessment of her. A month later, in utter frustration, she’d quit school. Six months later Mrs. Walsh had confronted her.

  “We are valuable. Precious. Loved,” the pastor preached, underlining what the passage said.

  Tabitha heard the words and, once again, fought to make them her own. To weave them into her life. Even in church, around people who were followers of God, she battled feelings of inferiority.

  When Morgan came to pick Nathan up at her house yesterday, she had tried, in vain, to keep the mess of the rest of the yard away from him. She could still feel the shame as she saw the mess through Morgan’s eyes.

  Yes, she felt like saying, this is what my life with my father was like. Looks good on the one hand, but there is a darker, messier side.

  And that’s why I need to leave here, she thought. I don’t need to be reminded every time I turn around of who I am and where I come from.

  Despite those thoughts, her eyes sought out Morgan and Nathan sitting with Morgan’s father. They sat one pew ahead and across the aisle, and she could watch them without them knowing. Nathan was looking down, probably staring at his new cowboy boots, rocking slightly. Morgan’s attention seemed to be split between the pastor and his son, and every time he looked at Nathan, Tabitha saw the sorrow on his face.

  Tabitha wanted to assure him that it would take time for Nathan to get to know and trust him.

  The sight of Morgan wanting to connect with his boy also brought back memories of when they were dating. He could be so kind and protective.

  She swallowed down an unexpected and unwelcome ache at what she had lost and forced her attention back to the pastor. Morgan was part of her past and he was settling here in Cedar Ridge.

  Her future meant putting Cedar Ridge and all it represented behind her.

  The rest of the service flowed along, but as the congregation stood for the last song, Tabitha felt her heart drop.

  It was her favorite song. One that Morgan used to hum when he was in a good mood.

  “You are worth, more than all gold, My dearest treasure of wealth untold. I see you child, as I want you to be, Perfect and lovely, whole and free.”

  To her shame Tabitha felt her throat thicken at the familiar words.

  My dearest treasure of wealth untold.

  She held on to the words as the old weariness washed over her. She was so tired of the stress of living with her father’s shadow, and her own lack of abilities. She was tired of always feeling unworthy.

  And now, with Morgan around, she was reminded of a life that had been within her grasp. A good life with a man who had roots and family.

  Perfect and lovely, whole and free.

  She drew in a trembling breath, and as the last notes of the song resonated through the building, she tried to find a quick escape. She didn’t want to run into Morgan while she felt so emotionally shaky.

  Trouble was, she wasn’t sitting in her usual spot because she had waited for Leanne, who had told her at the last minute that she couldn’t come. So she had to sit farther ahead. Now she was caught between two elderly women who weren’t in any rush to finish their conversation with the people in the pew in front of them.

  Which put her in the awkward position of ending up right beside Morgan and Nathan when she finally managed to step into the aisle.

  “Miss Tabitha,” Nathan cried out, grabbing her hand. “I’m wearing my new boots. See?” He held out his foot for her inspection. “And my new pants and shirt.”

  “You look very spiffy,” she said, still gathering her composure.

  “We’re going to my uncle Cord’s house for lunch. Grandpa is coming. You should come too.”

  Tabitha was at a momentary loss for words. There was no way she could face Boyce Walsh across a dinner table when she had spent so much time trying to stay off his radar.

  “Maybe Miss Tabitha has other plans, Nathan,” Morgan jumped in, giving Tabitha an out.

  She didn’t know whether to feel hurt or relieved, which in turn exasperated her. She didn’t like how being around Morgan confused her so much.

  “I want you to come,” Nathan said, his voice rising and falling in a classic put-out child’s whine as he grabbed Tabitha’s hand. “Please. You can tell Grandpa Boyce about my horse.”

  “Yes, I’d love to hear about this horse.”

  And there was Boyce Walsh. His eyes holding nothing but a sparkle, a grin lighting up his face.

  “I think you should join us, Tabitha,” Boyce continued. “You can tell us how the training is going with Stormy. I know Cord and Ella won’t mind.”

  “What won’t we mind?” Ella joined them, her soft brown eyes flicking from Nathan, still holding Tabitha’s hand, to Boyce.

  “We just invited Tabitha for lunch.”

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Ella said, smiling at Tabitha, her expression welcoming. “We can serve you for a change instead of you waiting on us.”

  Tabitha knew Ella me
ant it as a gentle joke but somehow it underlined the differences between them. Ella, a renowned artist who had reinvented herself and was gaining praise for her new work. And Tabitha. Ex-waitress and daughter of the local loser.

  “Please come,” Nathan said, still holding her hand. “You can meet my new cousins. Paul, Suzy and Oliver. Suzy teases me but Paul says she teases everyone.”

  Tabitha was even more torn. She knew Nathan was growing attached to her, but to refuse his, Boyce’s and Ella’s invitations seemed rude.

  “You know how to get to the ranch,” Morgan said, taking the decision out of her hands. “We’ll see you there.” He held his hand out to Nathan. “Why don’t we go ahead and get lunch ready for Miss Tabitha?”

  But Nathan simply walked away, spurning Morgan’s gesture.

  Tabitha saw the hurt on Morgan’s face and she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. It was only supposed to be a show of comfort. But when he looked at her and their eyes met, a quiver of attraction grew deep in her soul.

  She didn’t want to break the connection. In fact, she wanted to put her other hand on his other shoulder, like she used to. Tease him. Like she used to.

  Her breath caught and it wasn’t until they were jostled by someone wanting to get past them that the moment was broken.

  He looked momentarily taken aback and then, to her dismay, he stepped back, his expression hardening. Then he strode away.

  Tabitha struggled with her roiling emotions. What was she doing? Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t fair to Morgan.

  She’d had her chance with him and she’d made her choice.

  What if I told him what actually happened and why?

  She held that thought as she made her way through the crowd of people on the way to the door, taking her time.

  Then she stepped outside, heading toward her truck, which was parked right beside the church. That was when she saw him.

  Morgan stood by his mother’s grave. His hand rested on the stone, his head down. He swiped at his cheeks, as if he was crying, and the sight cut into her soul. He missed his mother.

  Then someone stopped her to ask a question about her cat. Tabitha obliged, thankful for the chance to pull herself back to ordinary.

  By the time she was done, Morgan and Nathan were gone.

  And Tabitha knew there was no way she would be able to tell him what had really happened.

  Not ever.

  Chapter Eight

  Tabitha slowed her truck down as she approached the driveway leading to the Walsh ranch house. She still had a chance to change her mind and go back home.

  But the thought of letting Nathan down kept her going. He had asked her to come. She knew better than to disappoint a young child.

  She turned into the driveway. She had been to the Walsh house a couple of times before, so she knew what to expect. The driveway split after passing the small house to her right that she guessed Ella lived in until she and Cord were married.

  Tabitha drove on past a copse of trees, turned a corner and there it was. The Walsh home.

  Except it looked different. The lower half of the house was now covered in rough stone, which also framed the doorway. The house had wooden siding instead of dusky blue vinyl siding and it looked like the windows had changed.

  The wraparound veranda was also different. Tabitha suspected Cord’s now-deceased wife, Lisa, had been responsible for the updates.

  But while the house had been redone, the amazing view was as timeless as she remembered.

  The ranch house sat on a rise that overlooked a valley. Beyond the valley rose the Rocky Mountains, majestic and imposing. Tabitha knew the house overlooked only a portion of the Walsh ranch. But it was an impressive portion.

  She parked her truck beside Morgan’s and the other two vehicles. She suspected one belonged to Boyce, the other to Cord.

  She wondered what Cord thought of her coming for dinner. While she and Morgan were dating, his brother had kept his distance. Tabitha knew Cord wasn’t crazy about her. In fact, shortly after she broke up with Morgan, she had seen Cord in town. He hadn’t said anything, but the look of fury on his face toward her was enough. Tabitha left town shortly after that so she didn’t have to face him again.

  Since she came back, she’d seen Cord in town now and again, and he was always unfailingly polite, but she’d never been able to erase that look from her memory.

  Maybe she should go.

  She reached for her keys still dangling in the ignition when the door burst open and three children came running out. A large dog she hadn’t seen before came bounding down from the veranda to join them.

  She saw Nathan waving at her, his face full of joy as he ran to her truck.

  Paul and Suzy came down the stairs too, but they held back, as if unsure what to do with the woman who usually served them French fries and ice cream and now stood in their yard.

  “You came,” Nathan said as she closed the door of her truck and slipped her bag over her shoulder. “My...my... Morgan said you might not and not to be disappointed.”

  That was the second time she’d heard him make that slip. Saying “my” and then switching to “Morgan,” as if he was about to say “my dad” but didn’t dare.

  Tabitha looked at Paul and Suzy and waved at them. “Hey, you two.”

  “I wish you could paint my face like a cat again,” Suzy said, bouncing up to her, her pigtails bouncing. “Like you did at the fair.”

  “I don’t have the paints with me, otherwise I could.” Tabitha had manned the booth for the Brand and Grill at the spring fair in the park.

  Then Suzy grabbed her hand and pulled. “We were waiting for you and I’m hungry.”

  “I see that,” Tabitha said, allowing the girl to drag her onto the veranda.

  “What took you so long?” Suzy demanded as Paul opened the door for both of them.

  “Temperamental truck” was all she said. She hadn’t been able to start her truck after church and had needed a boost. Tony Schlegal had been more helpful boosting her car than he’d been at the hardware store. Hopefully it would start again when it was time to leave.

  She heard voices and laughter when she came into the house. As she tugged her sandals off, she glanced around the hallway. It too had been renovated. The floor was done in tile with an inlaid compass. The colors were now fresh aqua and white.

  “Miss Tabitha is finally here,” Suzy called out as she flounced into the kitchen, Paul and Nathan trailing behind her.

  Ella stood at the quartz kitchen counter mixing something up in a bowl. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail and she wore a gauzy white blouse with intricate pleats at the yoke and top of the sleeves. Very artsy, Tabitha thought.

  She looked up when Tabitha arrived. “Hey. Glad you came,” she said, her voice friendly and welcoming.

  “Thanks for the invite. Can I help you with anything?”

  “I’m just putting the finishing touches on this potato salad and then we can eat.” She nodded toward the large table beside the kitchen where Morgan, Cord and Boyce sat. “Why don’t you join the men?”

  “And talk about cows and tractors and rodeo?”

  Ella chuckled at that. “I think it’s mostly rodeo talk these days. Something about getting the arena looked at by their cousin Reuben. They want to see if it’s worth finishing.”

  Ah, the unfinished arena. The dark cloud over Tabitha’s life.

  “I’ll stay here until you’re done,” Tabitha said, leaning her elbows on the kitchen island.

  The kids were playing a game in the family room located just off the dining area. Toys were scattered over the floor and music played softly in the background. Quite a change from when Mrs. Walsh lived here, Tabitha thought.

  Pictures and wooden plaques with inspiration
al sayings hung on previously stark and bare walls. A rough bouquet of wildflowers, shoved in an antique watering can on the counter, was parked beside a bright striped bowl of fruit and a matching tray that held odds and ends.

  Mrs. Walsh kept everything achingly neat and tidy. The house was always immaculate and beautifully decorated.

  But this house looked like a home.

  “The kids were excited to see you again,” Ella said, setting the bowl aside and washing her hands. “Suzy was hoping you would bring the face paints along.”

  “As if I could compete with you,” Tabitha returned. “How is the art coming? I heard you were getting ready for a new show.”

  “You heard correctly.”

  Tabitha could hear the question in Ella’s voice and smiled. “I used to work at the Brand and Grill. Where there are no secrets.”

  Ella chuckled. “And I imagine you heard most of them.”

  “I try to be discreet. Though I have thought of starting a gossip column for the local paper.”

  “I’d read it,” Ella said, drying her hands on a towel. “Be a great way to find out more about my new home and community.”

  “You like it here?” she asked, curious as to Ella’s reaction.

  “I do. The people are welcoming, the town is just the right size and it’s a great place to raise kids.” Ella grinned. “You know, the usual sales pitches real-estate agents use to sell homes in places people are reluctant to move to. Make it about the kids.” Then Ella shot her a curious glance. “I understand you’re not originally from around here either?”

  “Nope. No grandparents buried in the cemetery.”

  Ella looked puzzled as she picked up the bowl of potato salad.

  “That’s the usual cliché when talking about whether you were born and raised here or are from somewhere else,” Tabitha explained.

  “So when did you move here?” Ella walked over to the table where the men were sitting and set the bowl beside plates that held buns, cold cuts and another that held cookies and bars.

  “I was in junior high when we came to town.”

  “Whoa, that must have been rough.”