A Cowboy in Her Arms

by Mary Leo

  “Pretty,” she said to herself in the bathroom mirror.

  The bruise on her chin had finally healed, but now she had the cut on her cheek to contend with.

  Everyone in her family had been out when she arrived home last night, so there was no one to fuss over her injury or ask her questions. She truly hadn’t been in the mood for an inquisition. Not that she could have kept it to herself, but her parents had enough going on with the ranch taking a financial hit last year due to the drought, and her sister Kenzie was working long, hard days to try to make the ranch profitable again. A night on the town probably did them all a world of good. She wished she’d been able to join them.

  Instead, she’d been home, in bed early, licking her wounds, so to speak.

  Now everyone in the house was still sleeping. Dawn hadn’t even made an appearance yet over the Teton mountain range, so Callie decided to take a shower, get dressed and catch some R & R of her own.

  With everything she’d learned and the way she’d felt wrapped up in Joel’s arms, her emotions were a jumbled mess. All she knew was that she needed a morning of fishing to sort out her thoughts.

  She felt differently toward Joel now, as if she was beginning to understand what he’d gone through, what he was still going through. For the first time since she’d met Joel, she felt actual empathy for him.

  Never would she have guessed that word would ever apply to her feelings for Joel Darwood, yet there it was as clear as spring water in a shallow pond.

  The hot shower seemed to strip Callie of all the aches and pains in her shoulders and arms, giving her the boost she needed. After enjoying the soothing shower for at least a full fifteen minutes—any longer and she’d feel guilty for wasting precious water—she toweled off and slipped on her favorite jeans and deep blue long-sleeved T-shirt over black undies. Then she grabbed her fishing gear from the corner of her room where she kept it, gingerly tiptoed down the stairs and through the house, plucking a sweater off a hook next to the front door as she walked out.

  By the time she stepped outside, the sun was starting to rise. She hoped the ride and the beautiful view of the Tetons would help her to understand all that Joel had told her about Sarah’s destructive behavior. The revelations about their life had been shocking. All those years Callie had assumed that Sarah and Joel had lived an idyllic life together. That Sarah had settled down, had found a purpose, and she and Joel were crazy in love with each other.

  Now she knew she couldn’t have been more wrong on every level, and regretted not reaching out to Sarah during that time...forgiving her...forgiving Joel.

  As soon as Callie stepped into the stable, Miss Silver Pistol poked her head out of the stall, seemingly eager to get this day going.

  “There’s my girl,” Callie said to Miss Silver Pistol, a paint she’d loved ever since the first moment her dad brought her home four years ago.

  Within fifteen minutes, Callie was mounted and on her way down the narrow path that took them to the bend in the Snake River that meandered through the very tip of the Grant ranch, where she knew her brother, Carson, and their dad, Henry, were fishing, like they had done every Saturday morning since Carson was a boy.

  She dismounted, tied Miss Sliver Pistol to a tree, shrugged on her fishing vest and pulled up her high rubber boots, seized her rod and reel and walked out to meet the men in the sparkling river. A cool whisper of a breeze danced over her face and played in her hair, reminding her of how much she loved these quiet moments out on the river.

  “Well, I’ll be,” her dad, Henry, said, gazing over at her, his weathered face beaming. “Ain’t seen you out here on a Saturday mornin’ for weeks. Thought you finally gave it up.”

  Her dad, a tall, thin working cowboy with graying hair and a content disposition, wore his usual plaid shirt, string tie over an open collar and jeans. Both the shirt and jeans had pressed seams that her mom would spend hours making sure were exactly centered on each garment. Ironing day came once a week on Wednesdays and was never missed. Ritual was part of her mom’s daily life, and she balked whenever she had to break her rhythm.

  Gazing out at her dad, with his thick gray hair and trim physique, and Carson, the rough-and-tumble cowboy, who both rarely missed a Saturday fishing, except when Carson had been on the road or if the river froze, she suspected some of that habitual rhythm had rubbed off on them, as well.

  “Just took a break is all,” Callie told him. He nodded and went back to fly casting, the sun catching his line as he tossed it back and forth a few times, then released it into the air and gently landed it in the rippling water.

  For a long while, none of them spoke. Instead, they each concentrated on their lines resting on top of the water. Callie could feel the tension of the previous night and day slowly drain from her body. There was nothing like a morning on the river to wash away her fears. It had always worked, even when she was a kid. There was something about being out in the sunshine, under a bright blue sky, watching sunlight dance over the meandering water and listening to the babble of the river as it ambled over rocks that calmed her soul.

  She always felt at peace out on the river, and supposed that was the same reason why her dad and brother tried to get out every Saturday morning.

  “Heard you nearly ran over some ponies yesterday afternoon,” Carson said as he trudged through the water in her direction, breaking her trance. “And I see there’s a nasty scratch on your face. Mom couldn’t have seen that yet or it would be covered in bandages.”

  “She hasn’t. I managed to sneak out before she got up.”

  He looked concerned, those dark eyes of his narrowed, and his forehead furrowed.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, but how’d you hear about what happened?”

  “Wade Porter and I shot some pool last night at Belly Up.”

  Callie realized once again that nothing got past her family. Their connections in the town spread far and wide.

  “He told me about your driving skills. Always knew you were good, but from the way Wade told it, you should be driving for NASCAR.”

  “I did what I had to do.”

  Callie secured a new fly to the end of her line, did a few false casts, then flung her line as far out into the river as she could, a perfect shot.

  “Wade told me about you and Joel, as well. I knew he was living on the Double S Ranch, but I thought you would’ve stayed as far away from him as possible, what with everything that happened between you two.”

  Of all Callie’s siblings, Carson was the one she could go to with problems. It was like that for all her sisters, as well. Always had been. He was the voice of reason. The brother who could be trusted with their deepest secrets, or at least that was how he always came across. More times than not, however, once Carson knew a secret, sooner or later the entire family knew. The good thing in all of it, he was the only one in the family who knew how to guide each of his sisters to make the right decision.

  He’d told Callie years ago that it might be time to reach out to Sarah, but Callie would never listen to him. Her anger and hurt had run too deep.

  Now she wished she’d listened.

  “His daughter, Emma, is in my kindergarten class,” Callie told him.

  “I hear she’s the spittin’ image of her mom.”

  Callie hesitated before answering him, as if admitting Emma’s resemblance to her mom somehow had any bearing on how Callie treated Emma...which it most certainly did not. “There’s some resemblance, yes.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  She turned to him, losing control of the line. “Of course not,” she said a little too forcefully. Emma’s resemblance to Sarah was almost surreal, down to the streak of white-blond hair that blended into her bangs, and slid down the right side of her head exactly as it had on Sarah. Her friend had hated the streak, and
even as a teen she’d dye it to match her blond hair so kids wouldn’t make fun of her.

  “Why should it?” Callie said, suddenly feeling defensive.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Maybe because Sarah was your best friend and she betrayed you. And seeing Emma every day only reminds you that you still haven’t gotten past the hurt.”

  “Yes, I have. That was a long time ago. I’m way past that. Matter of fact, Joel and I are friends now.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “Yes, and who knows, it may progress into more.” She hadn’t meant to say that. It just came out.

  Carson raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you want to go down that road again?”

  Callie’s sudden confidence waned, and she wanted nothing more than to cry on her brother’s shoulder. Her eyes watered, and she felt the hitch in her throat.

  She and Carson took a few steps away from their dad.

  “Oh, Carson. I don’t know anything anymore. Everything I’d assumed about Joel and Sarah seems to be false. If what he told me yesterday is true, all my happily-ever-after scenarios I’d dreamed up for them were completely wrong. They weren’t happy. They were miserable. Sarah had put herself on a self-destructive path almost from day one of their relationship. I’m not saying it was all her fault—Joel takes half the blame—but he told me he never loved her. All this time, I thought he had. It was all lies.”

  Carson put his fishing line down on a rock, pulled his sister in closer and gave her one of his bear hugs while she cried on his shoulder like she had many times before. The comfort of his strong arms and his soothing voice telling her it would be all right, allowed her to finally let go of the emotions she’d been holding inside ever since the near accident the previous day.

  When she stopped crying and pulled away, she said, “I don’t hate him anymore. Matter of fact, I think he’s been through hell these last few years, and now he’s really trying to make up for it. I just don’t know if I can trust that he’ll stay on this path. His past doesn’t support that he will.”

  “As our dad always says, sometimes the past is best left where it is...”

  Their dad, Carson and Callie all chimed in together, “In the past.”

  They all chuckled at once, Callie wiping her tears on her sleeve.

  “Okay, so now what? What’s your next step?” Carson asked.

  Their parents had always taught them to tackle a problem head-on, and although it sometimes took each of them a while to figure out what that meant exactly, Callie now had a pretty good understanding what she should do.

  “I invited Joel, Polly and Emma over for dinner tomorrow night. You’re a good judge of character, when you’re not blinded by emotion, so I was hoping you could sort of, well, maybe check him out. See if you think he’s got some moral character going on, some backbone. That I’m not being sucked into his phony charms again.”

  Callie hoped Carson wouldn’t be upset at her reference to her brother’s being blinded by emotions—which directly related to Carson’s relationship with Marilyn Rose, a woman no one in the family had liked, but he’d gotten engaged to her before he came to his senses and fell for the love of his life, Zoe Smart. As a rule, the Grant siblings were notorious at overlooking red flags in their relationships until it was too late to react properly.

  “I’ll be checking him out, as well, ya know,” their dad said as he cast his line out into the flowing river, and as soon as he did, he snagged something hefty. Both Callie and Carson quickly trudged through the water to help.

  “Reel it in, Dad,” Callie yelled.

  “It’s a big one,” Carson said as he grabbed a net to capture the beast. “I got it.”

  “Caught us Sunday dinner,” their dad shouted, as Carson scooped up what had to be one of the biggest fish their dad had ever hooked. “Whoo-hoo! What a team we are! Ain’t nothing that can get past us.”

  “Nothing,” Callie said, hoping like heck that was true.

  Chapter Eight

  Joel didn’t know what to expect when he pulled his SUV in front of the Grants’ ranch house early Sunday evening. Dusk threatened to settle in on the valley and the Grant house, with its redwood siding and tin roof that reflected the decreasing sunlight. Several other cars and trucks were already parked in a neat line along the front of the house and along one side. Joel had spotted a few more near what looked like stables only a few yards from the house. He could see people milling just inside the open front door and through the windows. The place looked more like there was a large party going on rather than a sedate Sunday dinner.

  As soon as he turned off the engine, he could hear voices and laughter coming from inside the house. Apprehension raced through him. Joel had always felt awkward in these types of situations. Making small talk with strangers in a set environment had never been his forte, and he was especially apprehensive about meeting the rest of Callie’s family.

  What if they hated him? Then what?

  “We might not be staying very long,” Joel mumbled as he parked and turned off the ignition.

  Polly turned to him, looking radiant. When she worked on the ranch, tending to her horses, cleaning out stalls and running the house, she rarely wore makeup and lived in torn-up jeans, some kind of loose-fitting shirt and a ball cap. Tonight, she wore her blond hair down with a slight curl to the bottom, a tailored dark blue dress and flat dress shoes. Polly was an attractive woman who took pride in not only her ranch, but in her health and appearance, as well.

  “You’re letting your nerves get the best of you.” Polly reached over and touched his arm. “The Grants are a warm and loving family. I’ve known Mildred and Henry for most of my life, and they would never do or say anything to make their guests feel uncomfortable. Callie would never have invited us if we weren’t going to be welcomed with opened arms. Now tuck those nerves away and let’s enjoy the evening.”

  Joel grabbed the round plastic container that held the carrot cake Polly had made, with Emma’s help, and the bottle of red wine from the backseat. He stretched his neck from side to side to work out the tight muscles, then he headed for the house. Polly took the cake and started up the stairs, while Joel followed close behind.

  Emma had already jumped out of the SUV and charged up the steps, excited about seeing Miss Callie. By the time she stepped on the covered wraparound porch, two golden Labs had come charging out the open front door, their bodies swinging with each wag of their tails. Emma stopped for a moment until Callie appeared in the doorway. “They won’t bite, Emma. They only want to say hello.”

  “I don’t like big dogs,” Emma said, cowering away.

  Callie tugged on each of the dog’s collars, restraining them from getting too close to Emma.

  “They live here, sweetheart, and they love children.”

  “I don’t love them. They look mean, like they want to bite me.”

  “They might lick you, but would never bite you.”

  But Emma ran down the stairs to her dad. He scooped her up, and she instantly wrapped her arms around his neck. “I don’t like those dogs, Daddy. They’re too big.”

  “Tell you what, I’ll keep the dogs tied up, Emma,” Callie told her. “Once you go inside you won’t even know they’re here.”

  Then Callie walked the dogs to the far end of the porch and attached a leash to each one and secured them to the porch. The dogs immediately sat on their haunches as Callie fastened their leashes to the railing.

  “What if they get away? What if they come in and bite me? What if they bite my dad or Auntie Polly? They could die. I could die. Everybody could die.” Her little arm went up making a big air circle. “I don’t want to be here. I want to go home. Now, Daddy. Take me home. I don’t like Miss Callie or her mean ole dogs.”

  Callie took a couple steps forward, looking as though she was rea
dy to say something to quell Emma’s apprehensions, but Joel spoke up instead. “Look at me, Emma.”

  In the last few months, he’d had a lot of experience with trying to get his daughter to control her emotions before she worked herself up into a frenzy. He could only imagine that Callie had had to deal with it, as well, and hoped that didn’t impact how she felt about Emma. He knew his daughter could be a handful, but he trusted that Callie had the skills to handle her.

  Emma reluctantly let go of his neck and obeyed her dad, as Callie petted the dogs sitting calmly by the porch railing. “See. Miss Callie tied the dogs up, just like she said. They aren’t going anywhere. I promise. Now, I want you to take a deep breath and calm down. Okay?”

  Emma gazed at the dogs, then back at her dad.

  “Okay,” she said in a soft voice.

  Joel could tell she was calming down, could feel the release in her little body as she leaned against him.

  “Are you better now?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m going to put you down, okay?”

  She nodded again as Joel put her down on the step next to him.

  “You should apologize to Miss Callie for wanting to go home, and for saying you don’t like her when I know that’s not true.”

  Emma rubbed her eyes with her fists, then took her dad’s hand as he led her up the steps.

  When they got onto the porch, Emma slid out of her father’s grasp and stood a few feet away from Callie.

  “I’m sorry,” Emma whispered.

  “I didn’t hear you, Emma. You’ll have to speak up,” Callie said, using her teacher voice. Joel recognized that voice from hearing her use it in her classroom. It always sounded stern, but with a dash of kindness.

  “I’m sorry,” Emma repeated, sounding much more sincere.

  “Thank you, Emma,” Callie told her, bending down to her level, then giving her a hug. “I know that if you’re not used to a big dog, it can be intimidating. I’m sorry if they scared you.”