Second-Chance Cowboy

by Carolyne Aarsen

  “We can give you any help you might need when you deal with the insurance adjuster,” the fire chief said, turning his helmet around in his hands, his expression so woebegone a bystander might suspect it was his house that had burned to the ground. “Let me know what you need.”

  She nodded again. Insurance. Of course. She would have to deal with them.

  The thought exhausted her.

  Then she eased out a heavy sigh and turned back to Morgan. “I need to go get Nathan.”

  “No. I’ll call my dad. He’ll be okay.”

  “Then I want to go to Leanne’s place.” She fished the keys out of her pocket but Morgan stopped her.

  “I’ll take you,” he said. “You’re not in any shape to drive.”

  “I can go.”

  Then Morgan gently but firmly extricated the keys from her tight grip. “I’ll drive you,” he said.

  Another sob broke free and again she was leaning against Morgan. “I’m sorry. This is so silly. It’s just a house. Just stuff.”

  Morgan smoothed his hand over her hair, rocking her lightly. “Maybe, but it was yours. It represents a lot of hard work.”

  Hard work. Work to make the house sellable. Work that had just gone up in flames.

  A colossal waste of time.

  Morgan talked to Owen about picking him up from the Walsh place and Morgan led Tabitha back to her truck. He helped her into the passenger side and, as he got in, Tabitha saw it through his eyes. Torn seats, knobs missing on the dashboard. Visor tied with hay wire.

  A broken-down truck for a broken-down life.

  Tabitha closed her eyes, trying to shut off the chattering in her brain.

  The drive back to her sister’s place was silent. Tabitha didn’t know what to say and Morgan was quiet too. But he had his hand on hers all the way there. She clung to him, thankful for his presence and for his strength.

  All she wanted to do was crawl into a bed, pull the covers over her head and sink into denial even though she knew the sight of her house burning would be seared into her memory. She knew she would constantly relive it and behind all that would be the growing despair that now she had nothing to use to pay off her father’s debts.

  Finally they were at Leanne’s place.

  Leanne was at the front door and coming toward them as soon as Morgan shut the engine off.

  She pulled open the truck door and grabbed Tabitha’s hand.

  “Oh, hon. I’m so sorry.” The anguish in her sister’s voice was almost her undoing.

  “It’s not like someone died,” she said, trying to put her own wavering emotions in perspective.

  “No. But still, it’s a huge loss.”

  And Leanne would know what was at stake.

  She let her sister help her out of the truck and then Morgan was beside her on the other side. “I’m not an invalid,” she protested.

  Morgan said nothing as he slipped his arm around her shoulders. They walked up the stone sidewalk and then up the wide stone stairs leading to double doors flanked by tall narrow windows, with a large, half-round window arched over the entire entrance.

  For the briefest moment Tabitha felt a flash of envy at the impressive house that her sister called home.

  Leanne led her through the echoing front foyer with its sweeping staircase to a narrow hall leading to a breakfast nook off the kitchen.

  “Sit down, hon. I’ll make you a cup of tea. Morgan, can I get you anything?”

  Morgan hovered and Tabitha could see he wasn’t sure what he should do.

  She looked up at him, giving him a careful smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m with my sister.”

  He laid his hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure? I can stay.”

  “No. I’m sure you have work to do, and the last thing you want is to antagonize Dr. Waters.”

  “Actually, I’m supposed to be right here, so I’ll go find George, get the work done. Then I’ll be back.”

  “There’s no need,” Tabitha said even though the thought that he would be right on the yard gave her some comfort.

  “I’ll be back.” He bent over and gave her a gentle kiss on her forehead, then left.

  Tabitha leaned back in the chair as her sister bustled around the kitchen. “Where’s Austin?”

  “Sleeping. I put him to bed as soon as I came back from your place.” Leanne gave her a look of despair. “I wish I had gone sooner. Maybe—”

  “Stop. Don’t think that. Maybe you’d have been caught in the house.” She had to stop her mind from going there.

  “I just came there and I saw the flames.” Leanne sat down beside Tabitha and grabbed her sister’s hand. “I didn’t know what to do. I called the fire department, then you. Then raced back here to see if the hired hands could help out.”

  “You did the right thing. You couldn’t have done anything more.” Tabitha rolled her head to ease the crick of tension in her neck. Then she took a long, slow breath. “Well, I guess I’ll have to change my plans now.”

  Leanne squeezed her hand. “No matter what happens, you know you’re not alone. I’m here. I’ll be praying for you. And now it looks to me like you’ve got Morgan beside you.”

  Tabitha eased out a smile. “Yes. I guess I do.”

  But even as she held that thought came a harsher reality.

  Now she had no way of paying back the people her father owed. Especially Morgan’s father.

  * * *

  Morgan finished filing down the horse’s teeth, listening halfheartedly to Uncle George’s chitchat about the upcoming rodeo this summer, the rest of his mind on Tabitha. He wanted to go see her but also realized that being with her sister was probably exactly what she needed.

  “Sad what happened to Tabitha,” George was saying now. “Those Rennie girls haven’t had an easy life. I know Leanne hasn’t.”

  Morgan didn’t know how to respond, so he nodded as he popped off the eye protection he’d been wearing, wrinkling his nose at the smell of filed horse teeth. He’d done this a few times in his previous practice and still wasn’t used to the acrid scent.

  He removed the speculum and put it in a plastic bag to sterilize at the clinic, then stroked the horse’s neck to reassure it. The horse blinked slowly, still under the effects of the mild anesthetic Morgan had given him to keep him calm during the procedure.

  “He should be eating much better now that I’ve gotten rid of those hooks on his teeth,” he said to his uncle, picking up the tools he’d been working with and putting them away in the veterinary kit.

  “That’s good. He’d been spilling his grain and chewing on the fence. Figured something was up.” Uncle George untied the halter and cross tie they’d used to keep the animal still. He gave the horse one final pat, then followed Morgan to his truck. “So, is there anything left of Tabitha’s house?”

  Morgan shook his head. “Just a brick chimney and what looked like a heavy-duty cast-iron woodstove.”

  “Really? Chimney fire from the woodstove, you think?”

  “It’s summertime, so I doubt it. Doesn’t matter anyway. Everything else is gone.” Another wave of sorrow and frustration for Tabitha swept over him. And if he felt like this, he couldn’t imagine what she was dealing with.

  “In a way, I’m not surprised. If a Rennie is involved it can’t be good.”

  “How can you say that? Your own daughter-in-law is a Rennie.”

  “I didn’t have any choice in that. But she gave me a grandson. Someone to carry on the Walsh name. And for that I’m grateful.” George’s expression grew serious and Morgan thought of his cousin Dirk, who had been married to Leanne. Dirk had died in a tragic vehicle accident. He knew it was hard on his uncle. “But she’s a good girl in spite of her father,” George said in a condescending tone.

  “T
abitha is a good girl too,” Morgan said. “She’s a hard worker and she’s determined to do right. To make up for what her dad did.”

  “That won’t happen now,” Uncle George said with a snort, his eyes narrowing and his fists clenching. “Floyd Rennie was a snake who cheated a lot of people.”

  Morgan stopped there, knowing that anything he said would only get his uncle riled up. He wanted to see Tabitha, not listen to yet another one of Uncle George’s rants.

  “So is that everything?” Morgan asked, slamming the tailgate of his truck shut, shifting the conversation.

  “In a week or so I’m going to need you to come and look over a couple of my mares. Can’t seem to get them bred.”

  Morgan pulled out his phone and made a quick note. “Seem to be getting more horse work lately,” he said as he shoved his phone back in his pocket.

  “Yeah. More people getting acreages closer to town too. They all want horses and Dr. Waters can’t keep up.” George shook his head in disgust and Morgan sensed another rant coming.

  “Thanks for the work,” he said to his uncle. “I want to see how Tabitha is doing. Then I should push off.”

  “Sure. And I’ll call Doc Waters. Tell him I want you to come to take care of the horses.”

  Morgan didn’t know how that would go over with his prickly boss, but he let it be. That was to deal with at another time.

  He drove to the house and parked his truck in the driveway.

  He had seen Uncle George’s place many times when he and his brother would come to play with their cousins, Reuben and Dirk, but it always made him shake his head. His dad often teased his uncle about his need to impress, and this house, with its soaring roofs, brickwork and timbered entrance, did all that and more.

  He rang the doorbell and stepped inside. Leanne came to the front entrance, then stopped when she saw him.

  “Is Tabitha okay?” he asked, pulling off his hat and turning it around in his hands.

  “She’s sleeping, believe it or not.” Leanne slowly shook her head as if trying to absorb what had happened. “Poor girl is exhausted.”

  “I believe it.” He gave her a rueful smile. “Tell her I said hi. I’ll stop by tonight, when I’m done with work, if that’s okay.”

  “I’ll ask her when she wakes up.”

  Morgan didn’t miss the switch in her words and wondered what she meant by it.

  “Okay. Can you ask her to call me?”

  “I can do that.” Leanne crossed her arms over her chest in a defensive gesture, which annoyed him. As if she had to defend Tabitha from the big bad Walsh.

  He dropped his hat back on his head and left. Nothing more to do until Tabitha called.

  He just hoped she would.

  * * *

  Morgan’s phone rang and he yanked it out of his pocket, then frowned at the unfamiliar number on the display. Someone calling from Idaho? He was about to ignore it, thinking it was a telemarketer, when the number registered. Nathan’s grandmother.

  “Hey, Donna,” he said as he tucked the phone under his ear. He dumped a handful of pasta into the water he had boiling on the stove, glancing over at Nathan, who was playing some computer game on the television. When he went to his dad’s place, he had offered supper, but Morgan wanted to be available in case Tabitha called.

  But she hadn’t.

  “Is this a bad time?” Donna asked.

  “No. Not at all. How are you?”

  Donna sighed, and he heard loneliness and sorrow. “I’m okay. Surviving.”

  Morgan felt a flush of guilt. He should have called sooner to see how she was doing. She had lost her daughter, after all, and was living hundreds of miles away from her grandson.

  “I’m sure it’s been difficult.”

  “I’m coping. How is Nathan doing?” she asked. “He must be loving it on the ranch.”

  “He’s coping too,” Morgan said. “Did you want to talk to him?”

  “In a minute. I wanted to double-check on the arrangements you had made for my birthday. If you were driving down or flying.”

  Driving? Flying?

  Morgan scrambled through his brain, thinking. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. Of course. He had promised Donna that he would bring Nathan to visit her on her fiftieth birthday. She was throwing a huge party and she wanted Nathan to be there.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten,” she said, a hurt tone entering her voice.

  “I’m sorry,” he admitted. “Things have been haywire since I got here.” Seeing Tabitha and getting involved with her had erased Gillian from his mind. “I don’t have my calendar handy but is it next week?”

  “No. This Friday. I was hoping you could come early. Give me some time to spend with Nathan before things get busy.”

  That meant he would have to drive, which meant they had to leave tomorrow morning. It was at least nine hours from here to Coeur d’Alene, where she lived. How could he have been so dumb to forget this?

  But even worse, it meant leaving Tabitha on her own for a few days right at this horrible time. He stifled a groan at the timing and at his forgetfulness.

  “We’ll be there tomorrow night,” he said with more assurance than he felt. He’d have to ask Dr. Waters for more time off and he was fairly sure how that would go over. Not well.

  Suddenly, however, he didn’t care. There were bigger things going on in his life right now than dealing with a finicky, unpredictable boss.

  “I’m so glad. I’m looking forward to seeing Nathan again.”

  They chatted about Nathan and Stormy. Morgan had never got to know Donna, so the conversation didn’t last that long. They said goodbye, and when she ended the call, Morgan dropped his phone and leaned back on the counter.

  What lousy timing.

  Then he felt horrible for the resentment he felt. Donna had every right to see her own grandson on such a milestone birthday.

  But why did it have to happen now?

  Oh, Lord, he prayed. I want to be here for Tabitha. I want to support her. But I want to do right by my son.

  He knew the prayer wouldn’t change anything, but he needed to vent and let go of his frustration.

  He grabbed the phone and for the umpteenth time he dialed Tabitha’s number.

  And for the umpteenth time it went directly to voice mail. She must have shut her phone off. This time, however, he left a message.

  “Hey, Tabitha, I forgot about Nathan’s grandmother’s birthday. We have to leave tomorrow for Idaho. I’ll try to call again when we’re on the road. Please call me back.” He paused, wanting to say so much more, but there was no way he was doing that on a voice mail. “Thinking of you and praying for you,” he said instead.

  Then he ended the call and did exactly that.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “We can’t say much until the insurance adjuster files his final report,” Carl Tkachuk said, his hands folded on the desk, his expression suitably sympathetic. “Lucky for you he’s able to come tomorrow, which is lightning quick. I pushed him to get it done.”

  Tabitha shifted on her seat in the insurance office, struggling to make sense of what Carl was saying. “I appreciate that,” Tabitha said, clutching her backpack, the only thing she had left that belonged to her.

  “For now, all I can give you is out-of-pocket expenses. To cover a hotel and meals for you.”

  “I understand.” Tabitha was still walking around in a haze, trying to process what had happened.

  While Carl talked about the process of filing a claim and what would happen, her mind drifted off.

  She’d lost everything. Clothes. Shoes. Groceries. The tiles she needed to install above the new counter she’d put in. The few pictures she had of her mother. A few school mementos, like the notes she and Morgan
would shove in each other’s lockers in high school. Silly little messages about how much they missed each other.

  The thought of Morgan sent another sob creeping up her throat.

  Deal with what is right in front of you, she told herself. Don’t think too far ahead.

  Behind that came another desperate prayer. One of many she’d been winging heavenward the past twenty-four hours.

  Please, Lord, give me the strength to get through this.

  Yesterday, after she had woken up from an exhausted sleep, she had lain in the bed at Leanne’s house fighting a myriad of emotions. Grief, anger with God that He had let her down, a very unwelcome jealousy of her sister and the beautiful house she lived in.

  But more than that was a deep, unwelcome and all-too-familiar sorrow and shame.

  How could she face Morgan now? As long as she could cling to the hope of paying back his father, she dared dream of a future with him. The dirty slate her father had left could be wiped clean. The books balanced.

  She had dared to make tentative plans to maybe stay in Cedar Ridge. To see if she could, somehow, somewhere, set up a horse training facility. To allow herself the faintest dreams of a life with Morgan. With Nathan.

  But now?

  Now Morgan was gone along with her tentative hopes. He had left a message on her phone but she hadn’t called him back. She couldn’t. Not yet.

  Too many things going on in my head. Deal with them one at a time.

  “I do have one question, though,” Carl was saying.

  Tabitha snapped back to the present and gave him a tentative smile.

  “Sure,” she replied.

  He rolled his pen between his fingers. “I was chatting with the fire chief. He told me that all that was left of the house was a brick chimney and what looked like a woodstove.”

  “Yes. My dad put it in. Said he liked wood heat.”

  “Were you using it?” He made a quick note on his file. His deepening frown created a tiny foreboding of dread.

  “No. It was a hassle. I never used it.”

  “So you didn’t have it going yesterday?” Another note, a pursing of his lips and Tabitha’s apprehension grew.