by Liz Isaacson
He’d felt like this so many times before, and all he had to do was put on that charming smile, hold out a couple of words for an extra beat, and show everyone exactly what he could do.
“Morning, Jenn,” he said.
“Wyatt,” she said as if she was surprised he’d come in that day. “Ethan wanted me to let him know the moment you arrived.”
“I bet he did.” Wyatt grinned. “I’m headed out there now.”
“Okay.” She lifted her phone anyway, but Wyatt didn’t wait around to listen to her call Ethan. The man needed to settle down.
Wyatt found him out in the gates, where he’d worked yesterday. He was setting up folding chairs—a lot of folding chairs. “Morning, Ethan,” he said.
“Hey, Wyatt.” He looked and sounded relieved. “People are already here. Brynn’s taking them on a tour.”
“Sounds good,” Wyatt said. “I’ll go get the animals ready.” He turned but Ethan called him back.
“You look great, Wyatt.”
“I know what I’m doing,” he said, giving Ethan a quick salute before he walked away. He went into the stables where the horses were kept, and he walked down the row, handing out candy to the four horses he’d been working with.
“All right, guys,” he said. “Today’s your big day. There are a lot of people here to watch you, and it’s time to show them how great you are.” He paused in front of Harley, and then Maleficent. He didn’t want any of his horses to be bought that day, because that meant they’d leave the stables. Leave him.
He turned and went across the path to the barn where the calves were kept. Most people probably thought they looked the same, but to Wyatt, he knew each one of them. He only needed four for the roping demo today, but he’d probably go a couple of rounds.
He opened the huge back doors and let the calves out, telling them to get a snack and he’d be back for them. He returned to the stables and started getting the horses ready, leading two at a time out the ring where he’d warm them up.
He got them all hooked up, and he walked with them, muttering to them about Marcy and the situation that had come up last night. “And I think I’m going to ask her to marry me,” Wyatt said. “Then she’ll know she’s not a burden. That I want to do this.”
And boy, did he want to marry her.
Do you love her?
The moment he thought of the question, he knew he didn’t. But even more importantly, he knew he could, if she’d just open her heart and let him in.
His phone rang, and he checked it. His mother. Again. She’d called last night while he’d been on his date with Marcy. He hadn’t answered the phone then, and he hadn’t called her back yet. Glancing around, he decided he had a couple of minutes to talk.
“Hey, Momma,” he said.
“Wyatt, my son,” she said, and though she and Daddy had been living in Grand Cayman for a few years now, she hadn’t lost her Texan accent.
“What’s up? I’m doing a demo for the horses I’ve been training in a couple of minutes.”
“I’m just reaching out to all the boys,” she said. “To see what you think.”
“About what?”
“Daddy and I want to come back to Texas.”
Warmth filled Wyatt from head to toe. “That would be great, Momma. I can’t imagine anyone saying they wouldn’t want you to be closer.” Maybe Skyler, but he was away at college and didn’t have a whole lot to do with the family right now anyway. Micah had retreated for a couple of years too—maybe five or six—but even he’d come to Seven Sons.
“I’m having a hard time convincing Daddy,” Momma said, letting the words hang there.
“Oh, so you’re really calling for a favor,” Wyatt said, connecting all the dots.
“A little,” she said. “Maybe you could text him or something and tell him how much you miss him.”
“Sure,” Wyatt said, though he wasn’t an overly sentimental guy. He had talked to his father a lot while in the rodeo circuit, but he said everything he needed to say with his hat. And somehow, when Wyatt missed his daddy the most, his father knew it. And then Daddy would show up unannounced to watch Wyatt ride. So maybe he could text him and say he missed him. Not only that, but that he wanted his dad there for his wedding….
“I have to go,” he said. “I’ll call him later.” The call ended, and Wyatt started leading his horses over to the gate. Maleficent would’ve gone without a rope or reins, as she loved to train and work. With fifteen minutes to go before the demo was scheduled to begin, Wyatt had everything ready.
He went out into the crowd and started talking to people, taking pictures, and giving details about the horses. He didn’t make direct eye contact with Ethan or Brynn, but he could tell they were pleased with a quick scan.
They’d severely underestimated him. Wyatt had been working reporters and crowds for almost two decades, and this demo was one of the least high-profile things he’d done.
“Are we ready?” Ethan asked right at ten o’clock, and Wyatt nodded. He took the length of rope from his boss and headed toward the gates while Ethan welcomed everyone and got them settled down.
“Wyatt’s going to be riding Maleficent first,” Ethan called. “She’s a two-year-old mare that’s been here for six months, training under Wyatt’s care.” He nodded toward Wyatt, who mounted Maleficent and bent down to pat the horse’s neck.
“All right, girl,” he said. “Let’s show them how it’s done.” His heart beat rapidly in his chest, as he absolutely loved being in the saddle. There was nothing better than the rush of running out of the gate, of throwing that rope, leaping from the horse, and tying the calf.
He looked over, and Stuart had the calf in the gate. “Ready?” he said to him.
“Yep.”
“Hit the bell,” Wyatt said, his heart practically in his throat. Every eye was trained on him, and he could see and feel them all.
Then the bell rang, and the world narrowed. Time slowed.
The calf shot out of the gate. Wyatt held Maleficent back, because the horse couldn’t bolt at the same time as the calf. He knew exactly when Maleficent could go, and the horse did too.
They moved together, man and horse, and Wyatt threw the rope a moment later. The calf went down; Wyatt slid from the saddle; Maleficent balked and pulled back like a pro. A moment later, the calf’s legs were tied, and Wyatt threw his hands into the air.
He sucked in a breath as the applause filled the training arena. He grinned like he’d just done a championship run, and he swiped his cowboy hat from his head and lifted it into the air, wondering if this crowd would know how to cheer with him.
He bobbed the hat up and down, using only his wrist, like he was waving his cowboy hat to the crowd, thanking them for the energy they brought.
At least that was what the reporters had assigned to his actions. Wyatt had started the wrist movement that waved his hat to the cameras as a tribute to his father. His father, who’d taught him everything about riding, about horses, about the rodeo, about living a good, righteous life.
The crowd exploded, whooping as they lifted their right arms into the air and did the wrist-wave back to him.
Pure joy streamed through Wyatt as he laughed, replaced his hat on his head, and looked to the large digital clock on the fence post. Not bad. Not quite championship time, but respectable.
He turned back to Maleficent, who’d done an amazing job. Wyatt reminded himself that the spectators weren’t there to watch him. They were there to see how well he trained livestock.
And he’d done a great job with Maleficent, but really, the horse was simply an amazing creature.
He stroked her nose and pressed his face to hers before releasing the rope and saying, “That was awesome, Maleficent. Good job.”
He rode the high of the demo, leaving the ranch as soon as he could after charming everyone, staying for lunch, and signing autographs.
By the time he pulled up to the jeweler in downtown Three Rivers, he was exhausted
and ready for a nap. But first, he had a diamond to buy.
Chapter Six
Marcy soared over the fields on the southwest side of Three Rivers. Shiloh Ridge Ranch was some of the most beautiful land in Texas, in Marcy’s opinion. She got a view very few people did, and she loved seeing the fields in all of their stages.
Bear Glover had a lot of trees to deal with in the hillier part of the Three Rivers area, and he cut down as few as possible. She liked seeing the fields as bare dirt, when she sprayed them with fertilizer and a pre-spring pesticide that would make sure their fields were ready for planting.
She got the job done and headed back to the hangar to get the next batch of fertilizer she needed. She’d actually be flying over Seven Sons today, and she couldn’t help the way her heart beat out a few extra thumps.
But she’d enjoyed eating dinner with Wyatt last night. Too much, probably. He was so cool, and so casual, and Marcy wondered what it would take to rile him up. Surely he was passionate about something. The man had won multiple rodeo championships, but he wasn’t anything like the cowboys Marcy had dated before.
He wasn’t loud. He wasn’t constantly bragging. He was down-to-Earth and—“Normal,” Marcy whispered to the clouds in the sky.
She touched down, landing a plane one of the things that brought her the most joy. She taxied to the end of the dirt road, wondering what in the world her father had been thinking when he’d put conditions on her ability to inherit this business.
And he’d never once mentioned it to her. He’d never badgered her about finding a man and getting married. He’d never asked when she could produce some grandbabies. Nothing.
She checked her email as she sat in the cockpit of the plane as the propellers powered down. Bryan had sent back the signed consent papers, and Marcy forwarded them to Mr. Marlow at the law firm.
Wyatt had agreed to meet her at her father’s house that night to help her begin the process of going through everything, and Marcy was tired just thinking about it. She knew how much stuff her father had accumulated in the seventy-two years of his life. And after Mama had died, her father hadn’t thrown away anything.
So many memories to go through. So many decisions to make.
I’d come help if I could, Bryan had said in his email. If you want to hire someone, let me know, and I’ll help pay for it.
Part of Marcy did want to hire someone to come go through everything, while at the same time, she didn’t want anyone touching her father’s things without her there to make sure nothing important got thrown away.
She refueled the plane and filled the tanks of fertilizer. She thought about Wyatt as she took off. Pictured what his demo would look like as she made a wide turn and headed south. Fantasized about holding his hand and kissing him as she picked out familiar landmarks and set her sights on his ranch.
Dinner hadn’t lasted long last night, and even with Marcy’s exhaustion, she’d laid awake for at least an hour. Wyatt hadn’t run from the pizza parlor when she’d mentioned the condition that prevented her from doing what she’d already been doing for a year now. He hadn’t laughed at her.
In fact, he’d offered to marry her.
He’d also asked her why she’d called him, and Marcy hadn’t been able to tell him the whole truth.
She’d called him, because he was the only man in her life, and she’d been hoping he’d offer to marry her. A hitch in her lungs made breathing difficult. How could she go through with this?
She liked Wyatt, sure. But she didn’t love him, and she was pretty sure he wasn’t in love with her. How people got married when they were in love existed outside Marcy’s understanding. She’d never had grandiose plans for her life that included a husband, and a thread of guilt for tying down Wyatt for a year turned into a rope and then a set of heavy chains.
She finished dusting their ranch and flew back to the hangar, a constant stream of you can’t do this, you can’t do this, looping through her mind.
But if she didn’t….
She looked at the dark green hangar, remembering the day she’d painted it with her mother and father. It had taken way longer than a day, and her father had had the bright idea to do the job in June, the sun beating down on Marcy’s shoulders and back.
She’d gotten sunburned that week, and it had been so bad, she’d blistered and had to stay home for a few days.
And they were terrible days, with nothing to do and no one to occupy her time. If there was one thing Marcy liked, it was being busy. Too much down time made her nervous, and she hated feeling one breath away from a panic attack.
She pulled into the hangar and climbed down from the plane to close the door behind her. She had more work to do, but not in the air. She didn’t like the office work nearly as much as lifting into the sky and viewing the picturesque town of Three Rivers from above. She often wondered if God was looking down on her the way she could peer down on the town from an airplane.
And if He was, what was He thinking? Marcy hadn’t involved the Lord too much in her life until this past year, and even then, she felt like she’d only done it because she was going through something hard. When things got easy again, she’d stop talking to Him, stop asking Him for help, stop wondering where her parents were and if she’d ever see them again.
A sigh moved through her body and out of her mouth as she walked into the office. Her stomach growled at the scent of food, but her feet froze to the grease-stained cement.
“Hello?” she asked, peering around the doorframe and into the office. No one was there, but Wyatt had been while she’d been up in the air. She knew, because a white bag sat on her desk that she had not put there. And the delicious scent of teriyaki sauce and sweet potatoes filled the air, and Wyatt knew exactly how to get in her good graces. Vegetable tempura and egg rolls.
Sure enough, when she opened the bag, she found what she always ordered from China Isle. She smiled and sat, pulling her phone from the breast pocket of her coveralls. Thank you for lunch, she tapped out, though it was almost three o’clock.
No problem, sugar. Are we still meeting at your dad’s tonight?
Yes. 6?
I’ll be there.
Marcy tipped her head back and closed her eyes. “I know I’ve been asking a lot lately, but could You maybe help me know what to do with Wyatt Walker?”
The heavens didn’t open and light didn’t stream down. Marcy didn’t need a loud answer. Just a push in the right direction would be enough.
Marcy had been at her father’s for an hour by the time six o’clock rolled around. She’d brought home two big boxes from the shop, and she’d labeled one with Keep and one with Give Away or Sell.
Then she’d sat down on the couch and stared at the built-in bookshelves surrounding the TV. Just going through her father’s library would take hours, and Marcy didn’t have the heart to throw away a single volume.
The doorbell rang, and she leapt to her feet. She couldn’t tell Wyatt she’d been staring for almost an hour, with nothing to show for it. No decisions made. Nothing.
“Hey,” she said when she opened the door. But it wasn’t Wyatt standing on the front porch. “Alyssa. Savannah. What are you guys doing here?”
Her cousins stepped into the house and hugged her, a three-way union that brought joy to Marcy’s heart. “We knew you’d be here tonight,” Alyssa said. “And we thought we’d stop by.”
“We didn’t want you to be alone,” Savannah added, pulling her dark ponytail out and resetting it. “Oh, you brought boxes.”
“Yeah.” Marcy glanced at them and closed the door, wondering what would happen when Wyatt showed up. She couldn’t just kick her cousins out, and she didn’t even want to. They’d been a big help over the past year, and she loved them like sisters. “I haven’t been able to get started, though.”
She could admit it to them, because they already knew her faults. She was still trying to hide as many from Wyatt as possible.
“Oh, honey.” Alyssa put her arm
around Marcy’s waist and drew her to her side. “What are you going to do with the house and everything?”
“Bryan and I decided it would be best to sell it,” Marcy said. “I have a house, and it’s bigger and newer and nicer than this. I don’t need it. Bryan’s not coming back.” Her throat closed for a moment, but she breathed and steadied her emotions. “So we just need to go through it all and get the house ready to sell.”
“So an estate sale.” Savannah picked up one of the pillows from the couch.
Marcy blinked, and she could see her father lying there, his head on that pillow as he took his last breath.
She couldn’t get enough air, and she hurried into the kitchen and opened the fridge, though she had no idea what she was looking for. “How’s Aunt Opal?” she asked, glad her voice sounded somewhat normal.
Aunt Opal was her mother’s sister, and Alyssa and Savannah were her daughters. After Mama’s death, the cousins had stayed close, but Aunt Opal had drifted away from her sister’s husband and kids.
“She’s doing okay,” Alyssa said.
“She is not,” Savannah said, always the more blunt of the two sisters. “She’s terribly sad, and she doesn’t know how to come over here and offer to help.”
“She’s welcome anytime,” Marcy said, straightening from the fridge with a bottle of water clutched in her hand. The fridge hadn’t been cleaned out since Daddy had died, and there was plenty to throw away there. Perhaps that was where she could start. Old, rotting food. She wouldn’t have an emotional connection to that.
“I told her that,” Savannah said. “She doesn’t want to impose.”
“My father was a closet hoarder,” Marcy said. “She’s welcome to come do whatever she wants.” The enormity of the job before her threatened to drag her underwater and hold her down until she stopped struggling.
“I’ll tell her,” Alyssa said. She drew in a deep breath and looked around the house. “Where should we start?”
“I’m going to clean out the fridge,” Marcy said. She uncapped her water and took a drink.
