The Kings Meadow Romance Collection

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  “You’re right. I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe Anna will have some ideas.”

  “I guess we can send her off riding with one of the boys while we give you a lesson.”

  “Mmm.” Kimberly was silent for a short time, then said, “Pete kissed Tara on her birthday.”

  “He did?” Maybe he’d been wrong about those two.

  “I don’t think we have to worry about them. They act more like siblings.”

  Chet hid a smile, but there was no denying he was pleased by her choice of words. Siblings meant family, and family was what he was hoping for.

  IS THIS WISE? KIMBERLY WONDERED WHEN THEY were nearly to their destination. Should I let myself care for him? We want such different things.

  Only, was that true? What did she want? She used to know with certainty. A few short months ago she knew. Even a few weeks ago. Now it all seemed muddled.

  Chet parked his pickup by the renovated line shack, grabbed the basket, blanket, and towels, and then he and Kimberly walked up the mountainside to the hot springs. She felt a shiver of nerves.

  What do I want? What?

  When they arrived at the small pool, Chet spread the large blanket on a level piece of ground and set the picnic basket nearby. Sunset was still an hour away, but the sun had fallen far enough beyond the mountains to lengthen shadows and cool the air on this eastern slope. The sounds of the rushing creek were soothing to the ears.

  Kimberly turned her back to the water and looked through the trees to the valley below. Everything she could see from this spot was part of the Leonard ranch.

  She’d read somewhere that the average American moved eleven times in a lifetime. And job-hopping was the new normal. Few stuck with their first or second or even third careers for the rest of their work lives. And yet, for a hundred and fifty years, the Leonard men had stayed in this valley and managed this ranch. Six generations of them, counting Chet’s sons. What was it like, to have that kind of stability? It sounded wonderful.

  “Want some lemonade?” Chet asked, intruding on her thoughts.

  She faced him. “Not yet.”

  “A little music.” He lifted a small cloth bag from inside the basket. Out of it came an iPod and a pair of small speakers. A few moments more and music mixed with the sounds of nature.

  She didn’t recognize the song, but the tune was catchy.

  “Shall we soak a bit?” Even as he spoke, he removed his shirt and tossed it onto the blanket.

  There were those nerves again. She turned away before he could catch her staring at his bare, muscular chest and toned abs. Oh, mercy! It had been a long, long time since she’d noticed a man’s physique. Any man’s other than her husband’s. Ages. Forever. Chet’s muscles were sculpted by hard work, not hours in the gym, and she liked knowing it.

  She steadied herself with a deep breath. Then stripped to her one-piece swimming suit and joined Chet at the pool. He stood in the middle of the naturally shaped bowl, the water up to his waist, and held out his hand to help her descend. Heart slamming against the wall of her chest, she took hold and stepped where he indicated. Moments later, both of them were seated on a submerged ledge, steam rising around them as they faced one another from opposite sides.

  “The temperature’s perfect.” She was desperate for something to take her mind off of how wonderful he looked, his black hair curling slightly in the moist air.

  “It would be too hot—enough to take your skin off—without the creek water to cool it down.” He raked wet fingers through his hair. “Has kind of a sulfur smell that I’m not crazy about, but it sure feels good to soak in when your muscles are sore and tired.”

  “Do you come up here often?”

  He shook his head. “Not often. Never seems to be time to fit it in.” He shrugged. “Or maybe I don’t ever have a good enough reason to take the time.”

  His eyes told her she was all the reason he’d needed. It pleased and frightened her in equal measure.

  Chet closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the rocks. “So you said the website is up and running. What’s next?”

  Bless him. This was much safer territory. “Advertising. Getting the word out every way we can. Including social media marketing.”

  “And you know how to do all of that?”

  “No.” She shrugged, even though he wasn’t looking at her. “But I can learn.” As she spoke those words, she realized how true they were and how good it felt to be confident about something.

  “Never doubted you for a moment, Kimberly.”

  Strange, it felt even better to know that Chet had confidence in her.

  Without rising from the water, he moved across the pool until his face was mere inches from hers. “Kimberly,” he said, his voice low and husky, “you’ve become important to me. Do you know that?”

  Throat dry, eyes misting, she nodded.

  “All I want is a chance.” He drew closer.

  Her pulse quickened in expectation.

  “And now I think it’s time I kissed you again.”

  Her lungs forgot how to breathe on their own. She had to think about it, force herself to draw air. Then his mouth was on hers. Gentle, yet demanding. Tentative, yet assertive. The kiss—very different from the one on the night of the concert—made her insides twirl and then melt. Beneath the surface of the water, their bodies remained apart. Only their lips touched. Which for some reason made it all the more wonderful and exciting. She wouldn’t have minded if it had gone on for hours.

  But it didn’t.

  Chet drew back, and his eyes met hers once again. “You really know how to steam things up, Mrs. Welch.”

  “We’re in a hot spring, Mr. Leonard,” she whispered back. “It’s always steamy.”

  They smiled in unison, as if knowing they had created a special memory, one that would make them smile when they spoke of it in the future.

  Twenty-nine

  JANET’S LAUGHTER PRECEDED HER INTO THE KITCHEN the next morning. “That must have been some hot tub.”

  Kimberly turned, coffee mug in hand. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because you were humming.”

  “I was not. Was I?”

  Janet laughed again. “Yes, m’dear, you were. And if I’m not mistaken, it was an old George Strait hit. ‘Love Without End, Amen.’ ”

  A slow smile curved Kimberly’s mouth. She remembered the song playing on the iPod last night. “You’re right. I was humming. Guess I remembered the tune but not the words.”

  “So? Spill. How was your date?”

  “Very nice.” She felt her smile broaden.

  “And?” Janet wiggled her fingers, as if trying to pull more words out of Kimberly.

  “And none of your business.” Kimberly tried to look stern but she failed.

  Janet clapped her hands. “I knew it! You two are perfect for each other.”

  “Hardly perfect.”

  “Why?”

  Her smile slipped. “Nobody is perfect.” She moved away from the coffeemaker and stood at the sliding glass door, staring up the sloping ground toward the home of Ned and Susan Lyle.

  “I didn’t say he was perfect. I said the two of you are perfect together.”

  Kimberly released a sigh, her good humor drained away. “I wish you’d attend to your own love life.”

  “I have no love life, Kimmie. That’s why I need to meddle with yours.”

  “Thanks a lot.” She turned around. “Look, I don’t know where this attraction is going. Let’s not make it more than it is. It may go nowhere.”

  “And it may go somewhere,” Janet countered.

  “You don’t give up, do you?”

  “Nope.”

  Kimberly shook her head slowly, her smile returning. “You’re hopeless.”

  “Hopeful, my friend. Not hopeless.”

  THE FOURTH OF JULY FUN BEGAN IN KINGS MEADOW in the afternoon with a parade along the meandering main street of town. Afterward there was a public barbecue in the city
park, followed by games, music, dancing, and fireworks. The celebration of Independence Day had been much the same when Chet was a boy. Then the recession of the eighties had come, and the town had been forced to cut back in countless ways. The Fourth of July had been one of the victims. But when Oliver Abbott was elected mayor, he put the old traditions of parade, food, and fireworks back onto the township’s calendar. It felt good for the community to come together again. Mighty good.

  This year, Chet took a place at one of the many propane grills lined up on the west side of the park, flipping burgers and hot dogs for the people of Kings Meadow. One grill over from him was Tom Butler. The Methodist minister had been one of the first responders when Chet’s barn caught fire, and not long after, he’d bought one of the Leonard horses. A friendship had formed between them over the past weeks, based upon mutual respect and a similar sense of humor.

  Kimberly and Janet were the first customers at Chet’s grill. He felt a quickening in his chest when he saw Kimberly, and he couldn’t help noticing that when he smiled, she blushed.

  Janet held a plate out toward Chet so he could drop a burger onto the bun. “So you’ll know, Anna has your blanket and chairs right next to ours.” She pointed with her free hand.

  He didn’t bother to look to see what she meant. His eyes remained on Kimberly. Her blush deepened.

  Man, she’s pretty. What he wouldn’t give to kiss her again, right here, right now.

  After Kimberly got her hamburger and the two women walked away, Tom said, “How are things going with you and the lovely widow?”

  Chet figured by now there wasn’t anybody in Kings Meadow who didn’t know he’d taken Kimberly to a concert in Boise. More than a few might know about their visit to the hot springs last night too. Gossip rode a fast horse.

  “Don’t care to tell me?” Tom prodded.

  “Sorry.” He looked at his friend. “What did you say?”

  Tom chuckled in reply.

  Chet turned his attention to the grill, flipping hamburgers and hot dogs before they burned. A good thing too. A rush of hungry citizens, fresh from three-legged races and other games, ended their conversation. It seemed the men at the grills barely had time to breathe for the next forty-five minutes.

  The afternoon was a hot one. The first thing Chet wanted when he turned off the propane and closed the cover on the grill was something cold to drink. Tom wanted the same thing, so they headed for a booth where high school kids were selling lemonade, bottled water, and Diet Cokes. Both of them ordered the latter with lots of ice. When they got their beverages, they wandered toward the creek and some available shade. A fallen tree provided a bench.

  “So,” Tom said after he’d downed about half of his Diet Coke. “You were going to tell me how things are going with you and Kimberly Welch.”

  “Was I?”

  “Yes, you were.”

  Maybe it would be good to talk to a third party about his feelings, Chet realized. Anna and his boys weren’t exactly impartial. And he needed an outsider’s view to know if he was being a romantic fool or if this was something God could be behind.

  “I am a good listener,” Tom added.

  “For a Methodist.” Chet grinned. His comment was already a well-used joke between them. No matter what they were talking about, if it had to do with Tom, one of them added, “For a Methodist.”

  Tom shook his head, as if exasperated.

  Chet took a few more swallows of his drink. Then he looked toward the park. He couldn’t see Kimberly or the rest of the family in the crowd. “I think I might be falling in love with her,” he said at last. With a shrug, he added, “Maybe I already am in love with her.”

  “Then I suppose that means things are going well.”

  Again, he shrugged. “I’m not sure she plans to stay in Idaho. When I first met her, she seemed eager to get away from Kings Meadow as soon as possible. Last I knew, she was still hoping to find employment elsewhere.”

  “And she hasn’t changed her mind?”

  “Maybe.” He thought of the two of them at the hot springs. “I can’t say for certain.”

  “Perhaps you should ask her outright.”

  Chet turned toward Tom. “I’m afraid to ask. What if she’s unsure right now, but by asking, I force her to make a choice?”

  “And she makes the wrong one. Is that what you mean?”

  “Exactly.” Again Chet looked toward the park, searching the crowd for a dark ponytail poking through the back of a pink baseball cap. He didn’t see her. Nor did he see Janet, Tara, either of his sons, or Nana Anna.

  “Chet, is something else troubling you?”

  He turned toward Tom once again. “I guess there is.” He drew a deep breath. “I don’t want to date Kimberly just to have a female friend. I want it to go somewhere.”

  “Of course.”

  “But that’s when I get nervous. My wife walked out, Tom. One day she packed up and disappeared. Sure, some of it had to do with Rick’s death, but there’s got to be other reasons she threw away marriage and sons and even denied her faith the way she did. She said she no longer believed in God. She divorced me so fast I hardly knew what hit me. Maybe I’m not meant to be a husband. Maybe I’m no good at it.” He finished the last of the beverage in the plastic cup. “Is it even right, in God’s eyes, for me to want to marry again?”

  “Whoa. You had a lot more on your heart than I guessed.”

  To be honest, Chet hadn’t known all of that had been worrying him until he said it. “Sorry. I shouldn’t’ve—”

  “No, don’t be sorry. You need to work this through. But I doubt we’ve got enough time now to give it the study it deserves. Could we get together in the next couple of days? Somewhere quiet, just the two of us.”

  “Sure. That’d be good.” Chet stood, suddenly eager to get back to the hubbub of the Independence Day crowd.

  Tom got up from the log. “Before you go, let me say this. There are biblical reasons for divorce, and there are allowances for new marriages. First Corinthians 7 says, ‘Yet if the unbelieving one leaves, let him leave; the brother or the sister is not under bondage in such cases, but God has called us to peace.’ It would be good for you to remember that. You are not under bondage, and God wants you to have peace. Perhaps knowing that will calm your troubled thoughts.”

  Tom’s words were a balm to Chet. Not that he had everything worked out yet, in his head or his heart, but it was a beginning.

  Anna

  1960

  ANNA SAT IN THE STANDS OF THE SMALL RODEO grounds with Abe and Violet, waiting for Richie’s turn at calf roping. Correction, Richard’s turn. At fifteen, he’d made it clear he detested his old nickname. Anna tried to comply, but it wasn’t easy. He’d always been Richie to her. Almost from the first moment he drew breath.

  “Look, Abe.” Violet pointed at the program in her hand. “Emma Carter’s taking photographs of all of the events. We’ll have to buy some of the ones she takes of Richard.”

  Abe nodded but said, “We’ll see. Might not be able to afford them. You forget how famous Miss Carter is these days.”

  “No, look. She’s giving a special rate for photographs from the rodeo. We can actually have some framed Emma Carter’s on our walls of our son and his horse.”

  Anna touched Violet’s wrist. “Richard’s up next.”

  The boy sat astride a tall bay gelding named Rocket. Richard had started training the horse—the last foal out of Goldie before the brood mare had passed away—for roping events a couple of years ago, and both horse and rider were shaping up to be winners. Championships would bring more notice to the Quarter Horses of the Leonard ranch. That would be a good thing. Despite all of the mares he’d added over the years and all of the yearlings and two-year-olds they’d sold in the past decade, Abe still considered the horses a side business. Anna dreamed they would become much more to him. The way they were to his son.

  A calf bolted from the chute, bringing Anna’s attention back to the rod
eo. Rocket—as good as his name—shot out of the box at a gallop. The lariat sailed through the air, the loop falling over the calf’s head. Before the horse could slide to a full stop, Richard vaulted from the saddle. He hit the ground running, one gloved hand sliding along the rope. In what seemed a heartbeat, Richard grabbed the calf, flipped it onto its side. With Rocket keeping a steady tension on the rope, Richard used the piggin’ string he’d carried in his mouth to tie three of the calf’s legs together. Tie complete, he put his arms into the air to stop the clock. Then he returned to Rocket, stepped into the saddle, and urged the gelding a few steps forward to relax the tension.

  Anna held her breath as they waited the six seconds required. The calf struggled but didn’t get loose.

  Applause went up from the spectators, and it grew louder when the announcer called out his time. Nine point eight seconds. It was the best time so far. Professional calf ropers could get the job done in seven seconds, so this was an amazing time for an amateur, especially one as young as Richard. It showed the boy’s dedication. All those hours of practice were paying off.

  Before Richard left the arena, he looked into the stands and waved at Anna and his parents, grinning from ear to ear.

  “I think I’ll go down and see him,” Anna said as she stood. “Waiting until the event is over to see if his time will hold up is going to drive me crazy.”

  She hurried down the steps and walked around the corrals and pens at the far end of the arena. Trucks and trailers were parked all over a field on the north side of the rodeo grounds. Horses were tied to quite a few of the trailers. Some were munching on hay. Others were being groomed by their owners. Others stood snoozing, eyes closed, tails swishing.

  The Leonard truck and trailer came into view. Anna saw Rocket tied near the back of the trailer, the left stirrup tossed over the seat of the saddle. A few steps more and she saw Richard. Only he wasn’t alone—and he was too busy kissing a girl to see Anna’s approach.

  When she was only a few steps away from them, she cleared her throat. “Excuse me.”

  Richard hopped back from the girl, flushing crimson as he spun toward Anna.