The Cowboy's Belated Discovery

by Valerie Comer

He opened the door, but not far enough to be hospitable. “Hey.”

  She’d been looking out across the pasture. Now she turned to him with those beautiful eyes.

  Hazel eyes with glints of green and brown and gold.

  Gazing into the windows of your soul...

  No. He wasn’t going there.

  Tori offered a tentative smile. “Hey, Garret. We heard about your mom. I’m so sorry.”

  He nodded. Everyone was sorry, but no one had more regrets than him and his parents.

  “I brought dinner.” She pointed at a slow cooker at her feet. “I know it’s not much, but I hope it will help ease the day.”

  “Thanks.” No doubt whatever was in there would be an improvement to pizza. Not that there was anything wrong with that. He’d just had a lot of it lately.

  “Do you or your parents have any food allergies or preferences?” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and opened an app. “I’m organizing a meal train for you guys, and—”

  “A what?”

  Tori looked up at him.

  Man, he could drown in those eyes. Garret gave his head a quick shake to dislodge the lyrics.

  “A meal train? It’s a website created for situations like this. Someone sets it up on your behalf and lets the community know the link, and people can sign up for a day that suits them. They pledge to make a meal and bring it over. I set it up last night, called some folks from church, and we already have the next two weeks covered.”

  His mouth was gaping. He snapped it shut. “You don’t have to—”

  “Garret.”

  “It’s too much. We don’t need...” The thing was, they did need. That didn’t mean he was ready to accept it.

  “I’m not actually asking. Springs of Living Water Church loves you and your parents. You lead worship every week. Your parents have been active in so many things since you moved here. Your mom has helped out people in need. Your dad pitched in on the new roof. Don’t you get it? You’re part of the church community, and that goes both ways. You’ve given. Now it’s your turn to receive.”

  He wanted to protest some more, but he nodded numbly.

  Tori quirked a grin.

  How had he not noticed she had a dimple before? Right there on her right cheek. His fingers itched to touch the indentation, but he fought the impulse. That was just too weird.

  “Besides, I know you can’t boil water without practically burning the house down. You may not think you need help, but Saddle Springs only has so many restaurants, and I’ll hazard a guess you’ve already made good use of those. Was tonight going to be takeout from The Branding Iron or Izzie’s Pizza?”

  Garret sighed. “Pizza.”

  “I thought so. Garret? Be gracious, okay? Accept help. It’s okay. Everyone wants to be the giver. It makes us feel like we’re helping people we... care about. But for someone to give, there has to be a recipient, too. This time, it’s you.”

  He didn’t miss the hesitation in her words. What had she been about to say? Never mind. He didn’t want to know. “Thank you.” Wow, those had been difficult words. Words that made him feel completely powerless... which didn’t change anything. He hadn’t felt an iota of control since his mom’s diagnosis.

  “I’ve got a container of cookies in the car. They’re oatmeal raisin.” She looked down. “Your favorite. I’ll grab them.”

  “Tori.” Her name escaped his lips without permission.

  She peeked up, uncharacteristically shy.

  “I’m sorry.” He gestured between the two of them. “I wish I had something to give you in return.” Hopefully she would know he wasn’t talking about cookies. “There’s just nothing in me that can... fall in love.”

  The hazel eyes that haunted his dreams studied him. “I think you underestimate yourself.”

  “No.” He shook his head and backed up a step, bumping into the doorjamb. “You don’t really know me, Tori.” This was so, so awkward. “I’ve got a... a background. There’s just too much baggage there.”

  “A background? Everyone has one of those, Garret. If you’re talking about sin in your past, isn’t that why Jesus came? Why He died? So His blood cleanses us and gives us new life in Him.”

  Tori probably envisioned a life of drugs or wanton sex. “Consequences remain.” He scrubbed his hand through his hair. “You don’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  Could he just dump his sordid past on her like that? Not a chance. Then those shining eyes would cloud over. She’d back away and reject him to protect herself. The result would be the same, but if he did the rejecting, he could protect her. At least a little.

  Garret shook his head. “Tori, find some great guy to fall in love with.” Hearing those words in his own voice ripped a hole in his heart. Was it really better this way? Yes. Yes, it was. “Forget about me. I’m not worth your time. Honestly.”

  “Do not call anything impure that God has made clean.”

  Acts 10:15. He recognized the words, but it was different.

  Before he could react, she stepped closer. “You’re worth it, Garret.” And she reached up, cradled his face between her palms, and kissed him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It took Tori fifteen minutes to get home. Every second of that time, she relived the feel of Garret’s lips against hers. For a brief instant, he’d melded against her but then he’d stiffened and pulled back. He’d searched her face before pivoting back into the house leaving her standing there sagging off her tiptoes.

  She’d left the package of cookies beside the slow cooker outside the door when she’d driven away. He’d likely come out and picked them up when she’d turned the corner out of view.

  Tears still burned her eyelids as she turned into the Flying Horseshoe. How could she have been so stupid as to kiss Garret? She’d thought of little else for weeks. Months. But it hadn’t lived up to her expectations at all. In her dreams, his eyes would fill with tenderness and wonder, he’d gather her close, and he’d whisper passionate words against her lips between kisses.

  As if.

  But at least she’d left him with no doubt where she stood, even though her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She’d given him one last chance to return her love. Instead, he’d pulled back with shock and hurt and left her standing there like a fool. Just like at the wedding dance.

  She exited the RAV4 to the sound of chattering girls, and gathered her dignity like a cloak around her before turning to face them.

  “Did you see that cowboy’s muscles?” gushed twelve-year-old Olivia. “Oh. My. Goodness.”

  What cowboy? They’d seen James and Matt and Lionel plenty of times and hadn’t reacted quite like this. Sure, the two teen employees each had an adoring fan club tagging along behind them when activities allowed, but neither could be described as more than wiry. And the girls had mostly left James alone once they’d realized he was married. And old.

  Tori scanned the ranch, her gaze landing on Noah Cavanagh’s farrier truck. She couldn’t help chuckling. If anyone’s muscles deserved admiration, it would be the blacksmith’s. It didn’t hurt that he was older than Lionel and Matt but younger than James. To say nothing of cute.

  Back to work then. She crossed the gravel to where Noah had parked his rig. He must have just arrived, because he was in the process of raising the sides of the truck to reveal his portable shop.

  “Hey, Noah.”

  He glanced over, a wide grin crossing his face. “Hi, Tori.” He gestured to the girls gathering around her. “What’s going on this week?”

  “We’ve got a girls school from Boston here, and I’m pretty sure they’ve never seen muscles like yours close up before.”

  “Have, too,” came Peyton’s bored voice from beside Tori’s elbow. “My brother’s a bodybuilder. He’s more built than you.”

  Noah’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Good for him.” He turned back to Tori. “Hope you don’t mind I came this evening instead of waiting until morning. I called your offi
ce in advance and talked to Meg. She said it was better this way, anyway, since the horses are in full use much of the day. With the long daylight hours in summer, I’m trying to get this trip to Saddle Springs wrapped up a day early.”

  “Sure, no worries. Did Meg talk to one of the boys about putting in some overtime?”

  “Oh, man.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “We didn’t talk about that.”

  “It’s okay. Can’t blame a guy for wanting to take a long weekend this time of year.” She sure wasn’t getting any time off. Nice someone could.

  “It’s not that.” He glanced over at the girls. “I promised my dad I’d take my sisters camping. They’re about this age, and, well, kind of a handful right now.”

  Seeing the broad spectrum of personalities and levels of maturity in the contingent from Boston, Tori could imagine what he meant. “It’s all good. Really.”

  The gong went for supper in the resort dining hall, and the girls surged in that direction as one unit. Lillian cast a bashful smile over her shoulder.

  Noah watched them go before turning back to Tori. “And I thought we had it bad with two. How many girls do you have here anyway?”

  “Thirty. But they came with six chaperones, so the Flying Horseshoe’s job is only to offer activities and food.”

  “Chaperones. That’s what Emma and Alexia need. They’re thirteen.”

  “Twins?”

  “Yeah. I’m a twin, too. Not sure how it works, but my mom seems to throw mostly pairs.”

  Tori couldn’t help the chuckle. “Must be fraternal twins, then?” Should she explain genetics or tease Noah about the birds and bees? Nah, she’d skip.

  “Yeah. How’d you know?”

  Well, he’d asked. “Because to have fraternal twins requires the woman to ovulate two eggs at a time. That predisposition runs in families. Identicals come from one egg split in two shortly after fertilization. That’s not a genetic thing, just a random occurrence.”

  “I didn’t know that. Never really thought about it, I guess. But I’d take exception to the word random. I prefer to believe God’s in control of stuff like that.”

  Tori angled her head at him. “You’re a Christian then?”

  “Sure. You?”

  “Absolutely.” She studied him a moment longer. They’d never really talked before, anything beyond, I’m done shoeing this horse; bring me another.

  “So give me some tips on how a preteen girl thinks? They’re good kids, but wild as mountain lions and moody as housecats. I’m already regretting taking them camping, and we haven’t even left yet. But Dad’s got his hands full.”

  “Is your mom... gone?” Tori tried to think what she’d be like if her mom had passed away when she was that age. Man, a girl needed her mother.

  Noah studied his boot scuffing in the dirt. “Not the way you think. Not dead. Not disappeared. Just depressed. Checked out.”

  She touched his arm. Whoa. The girls were right about his muscles. “There’s nothing just about depression. Must be hard for everyone.” She knew so little about Noah. He was a guy who came by every few weeks and looked after the horses’ feet. Now, suddenly, he was becoming a three-dimensional person before her very eyes. Someone with a life outside of his visits to the Flying Horseshoe.

  “Yeah. I don’t get it. We’re too busy for anyone to sit around and mope, you know? There’s six of us guys and our two little sisters. A big spread. Not with guests, like yours.” His wave encompassed the resort. “Just a busy cattle ranch. Takes our whole family to run it, even though some of us have outside work, too.” His hand came to rest on the lifted wing of his truck.

  “I doubt your mom thinks of it as sitting around and moping for the fun of it.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” Noah shook his head in obvious frustration. He took a long breath. “Anyway, sorry for dumping on you. If you’d be so kind as to check whom your sister lined up to keep the horses coming, I’ll get started.”

  “Have you had supper? Everyone’s in the dining hall. No problem to set an extra plate.”

  He blinked. “Uh, sure. Sorry to be a bother. I don’t want to take anyone away from their grub.”

  “Well, come on then.”

  Maybe she could stay busy enough to erase Garret’s tormented gaze. Maybe she’d be the one to offer assistance to Noah tonight.

  “That smells good.” Dad shuffled into the kitchen, looking nearly as gaunt as Mom.

  Should Garret be worried about both of them? He couldn’t handle more than one at a time. Even one was too hard. God, please heal her.

  “Tori Carmichael brought it by.” Garret opened the slow cooker lid, allowing the beef stew aroma free access to the air. It did smell good. “I guess they started a meal train. Someone from the church will be bringing supper every day.”

  Dad’s jaw worked. “Your mother always loved participating in ministries like that.”

  “Is she awake? Up to a bite of supper?”

  “A bite about covers it.” Dad sighed. “I’ll take her a small bowl and see if she’s able.”

  When his dad puttered out of the room with two bowls, Garret scooped up one more and sat at the table by himself. This was his future, except with takeout rather than meals from friends.

  Friends?

  Tori had kissed him. A sweet, innocent kiss. There’d been nothing demanding about it, not like Chantelle’s. Nothing passionate, like he’d shared with Jenna.

  And yet there’d been a warning in Tori’s lips pressed against his. She’d waited for him long enough. She wouldn’t hang around forever, letting him reject her again and again.

  The first two bites had been tasty, but now the stew turned into so much compost. He pushed off from the table and stared at the container of cookies. She’d brought his favorite. She knew what he liked and cared enough to bring it.

  He was crazy. What if...?

  A bowl clunked on the table, and Garret turned to see Dad sinking into a seat. “You okay?”

  “She’s asleep.” Tuck Morrison rubbed a hand across his eyes before looking up at Garret. “I’ll heat some for her later if she’s hungry.” He pushed his own spoon through the tender meat, carrots, and potatoes in front of him. “I’m sure this is really good.”

  “I’m sure it is, too.” Garret popped open the cookie container and carried it to the table. “Or we could go straight to dessert.”

  “Oatmeal raisin?” Dad’s eyebrows rose as he looked between the container and Garret. “Somebody’s got your number.”

  In more ways than one. Garret shrugged. “Tori pays attention.” He snagged one and had a bite, his taste buds surging alive.

  “Are you?”

  “Am I what?” Garret eyed his dad.

  “Paying attention. Because I think she’d like to do more than bake you an occasional batch of your favorite cookies.”

  Suddenly the bite he’d just swallowed became a lump of lead in his stomach. “You know I’m done with love.”

  “It’s a good thing our heavenly Father doesn’t give up so easily.”

  “Easily? Do I need to remind you of my track record?”

  “No more than God reminds you of yours. My son, he casts your sin into the depths of the sea—”

  “And puts up a no fishing sign. I know.”

  “Then why do you persist in circling your boat over that hole in the ocean?”

  Garret surged to his feet. “You know why. It’s not for my sake. It’s to protect others.”

  Dad shook his head and ate a chunk of carrot. “That’s not your job. God’s big enough to manage the world without your help.”

  “How can you say that? With Mom...” He couldn’t say the words.

  “Son, love hurts. There’s no getting around it. But so does life without love. Would I rather have lived my life alone, never knowing the beautiful woman who has loved me for over fifty years, to protect myself from the pain I’m experiencing these days? What do you think?”

  Where would Garret
be if Tuck and Nancy had never met, never married, never been unable to have babies of their own? How would he have fared in other foster homes? Would anyone else have seen beyond the aggressive little boy to see the torment that caused it?

  He shook his head. “She’s worth it.”

  “Son, open your heart. I don’t know for sure if Tori is the right woman for you, but pray and allow God to show you.”

  “I don’t deserve—”

  “Hogwash.” Dad’s voice was sharp. “Life is not about what we deserve. ‘The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God’... say it with me, Garret. ‘The gift of God is’...”

  “‘Eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.’”

  “Good. You remember. Here’s another one to grab onto. John 10:10. Jesus said, ‘I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it’...” Dad cupped his hand behind his ear.

  “‘Might have it more abundantly.’”

  “Did you hear your own voice, son? God doesn’t hand out Halloween-size samplers. He doesn’t even hand out treats by the case. He stands us under the waterfall and pours molten chocolate over us. Abundantly.”

  Garret couldn’t help the chuckle at the visual. “Willie Wonka style.”

  “Like that. More than we could ever ‘ask or think, according to the power at work within us’.”

  “Ephesians 3:20.”

  “Yes, my boy. This is how you gather strength for dark days. You memorize the Word. You think on it. You absorb it into your life. Then, when you need it most, it’s right there, ready to do battle in your mind.”

  “Because it’s a two-edged sword.”

  Dad pointed his spoon at Garret. “There you go. Hebrews 4:12.”

  Garret nodded slowly. He’d been immersed in the Word as a child. At home, at Sunday school, at Awana clubs, in private school. He’d believed, while his older brother had rebelled. Did that mean their parents shouldn’t have rescued Kellen and adopted him? That loving Kellen hadn’t been worth the investment?

  How many people heard the love story between God and humanity and turned away? Did that mean Jesus shouldn’t have come and died for their sins? That loving humanity hadn’t been worth the investment?