Cattleman's Courtship (18 page)

“Why is Uncle Alan at the clinic anyway? Surely he’s not covering calls for Bill?”

Aunt Lori shook her head as she looked up from the magazine. “He said something about meeting that new vet, Gordon Moen, at the clinic. I guess he came in today and wanted to see the clinic as soon as possible.”

“Neither Bill nor Anita said anything to me when I was at the clinic this afternoon.”

“They must have forgot.”

Cara frowned. She wasn’t a partner in the clinic and she was only helping temporarily, but surely she could have been given this rather important piece of information.

“Maybe I should stop at the clinic on my way to Nicholas’s.”

“Do whatever you want, my dear,” Aunt Lori said, tapping her chin with her finger. “What do you think of skewers for supper tomorrow? If I grill them they would be fairly healthy, I’m thinking.”

“Do whatever you want, my dear,” Cara returned.

“Oh, speaking of not passing information on…” Aunt Lori gave her a guilty smile. “I got a phone call from that place in Montreal where you’ll be working.” This was said with a grimace as if Aunt Lori didn’t want to consider this. “They want you to call them as soon as possible.”

Uncertainty slipped into Cara. She knew that each day she spent here in Cochrane brought her one day closer to her departure.

It was just the past few days she had preferred not to think about that.

“You’re still taking that job?” Aunt Lori asked.

“The job is a fantastic opportunity,” Cara said slowly, considering her own words but not as convinced as she used to be. “The pay is almost twice what I’ve been making the past few years. I can pay you back—”

Her aunt slashed the air with her hand. “How many times do I have to tell you? Your uncle and I don’t want that money back. It was a gift of love and you just have to take it.”

Cara heard the words on one level, but still struggled with the idea on another.

“Love is freely given,” her aunt continued. “It doesn’t require anything in return.”

“I know,” she said quietly, though she still wasn’t entirely convinced. “But the job will also give me a chance to travel. Like you always said I should.”

“That was your uncle Alan’s advice.”

Cara frowned. “What do you mean?”

Aunt Lori tilted her head, scratching the side of her neck. “I think, in his heart, he was a bit like your mother. The only reason we’ve stayed here as long as we have is because I told him I wanted roots.”

“So you think traveling is a bad idea?”

“I think traveling can be good at one point in your life, but I also think there comes a time when you need to make yourself a part of something. Get connected to a community. It’s hard to nourish your faith when you don’t have community—when you don’t have roots.” Aunt Lori gave a light laugh. “I was very happy when you and Nicholas started dating and almost as sad as you when it was over. And now you’re seeing him again. I think it’s a good thing, regardless of what Uncle Alan might say.”

Pleasure twinged through her. “We’re not really seeing each other. It’s just a ride up into the mountains.”

Aunt Lori smiled, as if she didn’t believe Cara’s protestations. “Anyway, you have a good time.”

Cara bent over and gave her aunt a quick kiss. “I hope to.”

She wasn’t going to dwell on the phone call she had to make tomorrow or what Gordon’s arrival might mean for her. And she decided she wasn’t stopping at the clinic either.

Nicholas was waiting for her when she parked her car by the corrals. He wore his usual blue jeans and a blue shirt with a thin white stripe. Then she felt an opening sensation in her chest as she recognized his shirt.

Was it the one she had given him when they were dating?

“Nice shirt,” she blurted out as he came near.

Nicholas gave her a crooked smile. “Thanks. An old girlfriend bought it for me.”

She was right.

To hide her discomposure, she looked around the yard.

The arbor still stood beside the barn. Potted plants still hung from it and others were pushed up against it, creating a splash of color and whimsy.

“You didn’t take it down yet,” she said, tucking her hands in her pockets.

“It spruces up the yard,” Nicholas said. He poked his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve got the horses saddled up in the corral. I’d like you to walk your horse around a bit. Get used to him.”

“Which one will I be riding?” she asked, following him around the wooden fence of the corral.

“I thought I would put you on one of my dad’s horses.” He unlatched the gate and pushed it open to let her through. “I don’t trust Two Bits after that spill you took the other day.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Cara said, waiting for Nicholas to latch the gate again. “He just got scared and I didn’t have both my feet in the stirrups.”

“Nice of you to give him an out, but I’m not taking any chances.” His beguiling smile didn’t help her equilibrium.

One of the horses nickered as they came near and Nicholas walked over and untied a tall, gray horse. “This horse is called Sammy. She used to be a pickup horse at the rodeo. Bulletproof. I would have put you on her the first time, but Dad had her at the neighbor’s to get bred.”

Cara surveyed the animal as Nicholas walked over with her. “A bit old to be a mother, don’t you think?”

Nicholas handed her the reins. “I thought so, too, but Dad figures she could have a couple more colts yet.”

Cara held her hand out to the horse, letting the mare get a whiff of her, then gently stroked the horse’s nose. The mare stood stock-still, then blew out a breath.

“Just lead her around the corral a bit,” Nicholas said, untying his horse, as well. “Let her get used to you—”

“And let me get used to her,” Cara finished for him.

“That’s about the size of it.” Nicholas flashed her a grin, his teeth white against his tanned face.

Cara grasped the leather reins and started walking, the muffled thump of the horse’s feet on the ground and the squeak of saddle leather the only sounds she heard. The sound of quiet contentment.

“Make her do a few turns, then make her stop and go,” Nicholas called out.

Sammy responded to the smallest tug of the reins. When she brought the horse back to Nicholas, Cara felt more comfortable about getting on her back.

“So. Ready to head out?” Nicholas asked.

“I think so.”

Nicholas helped her on the horse, adjusted the stirrups, tightened the cinch then tipped his hat back to look up at her. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

She sensed an underlying tone to his question that had less to do with the horse and more to do with him.

She gave him a gentle smile and nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

His answering grin created a feeling of expectation. “Good. Then let’s go.”

He swung easily up on his horse and with a twist of his wrist had the horse turned and headed toward the gate. Without dismounting he leaned over and unlatched it, led his horse through, then waited while Cara followed before latching the gate again.

Then he set his hat more firmly on his head, clucked lightly and once again they rode out of the yard and across the open field.

She heard the bawl of a cow and turned in time to see a herd of about thirty black Angus heifers walking toward them, obviously curious.

Their hides gleamed in the sunlight, their uniform faces staring back at her.

“Nice bunch of heifers you got here,” she called out.

Nicholas half turned in the saddle, looking back at her. Then he reined his horse in. He was looking at the heifers, as well, when she caught up to him. “They’re doing great. If the guy in Montana likes them, it’s a huge deal for the ranch.”

Huge enough to make him stay instead of going out to work?

But Cara wisely kept the question to herself.

“You’ve been working hard on the bloodlines of this herd, haven’t you?” Cara asked, remembering her uncle talking about trips to the Chapman ranch to artificially inseminate the growing herd with top-notch semen from prize-winning bulls.

Nicholas pushed his hat back on his head, leaning forward in the saddle. “You’re looking at almost six years of breeding and culling. And a lot of money invested in good genetics.”

“They look amazing,” Cara said. Her comment earned her a quick smile.

“And once we run the tests, we’re good to go.” His horse blew, then stamped, and Nicholas straightened. “Two Bits is getting impatient. We should get going.” He pointed with one hand to the trail. “We’ll go the same way we went last time. We’ll end up at the place where Trista and Lorne wanted their pictures taken. It’s only about a twenty-minute ride from here.”

“Sounds good to me.” Cara’s nervousness eased with each step of the horse and by the time they were back on the trail again, she relaxed. Every now and then Sammy would twitch her ears as if checking to see if she still sat on her back, but mostly her mount was content to plod along.

The quiet and cool of the approaching evening surrounded them as the horses climbed higher and higher. The creak of leather and the plod of the horses’ hooves were the only sound in the utter stillness of the day.

Cara caught glimpses of the fields below them growing smaller the higher they went. Twenty minutes later, just as Nicholas had promised, they broke out into an open area.

“This is the end of the road,” Nicholas said, bringing his horse to a stop. Cara’s horse sidled up to him and stopped, as well. “We’ll get off the horses here and tie them up. Then we can walk to the lookout point,” Nicholas said, swinging off his saddle. Cara followed suit and a few minutes later Nicholas was leading her through the small clearing to an opening in the trees.

They got to the edge and the ground fell away from them.

The tree-covered hillside sloped away, meeting hayfields and pasture well below them. Beyond that lay the creek Nicholas had pointed out the last time they had ridden the trail up here. Beyond that the land rose again, green-skirted hills meeting blue and gray jagged peaks softened by caps of snow gleaming against a blue sky.

A wave of dizziness washed over her at the vast expanse of land. “Tell me again which part is yours?” she asked, breathless with the wonder and beauty of it all.

“The fields along the river belong to us, and through that cut in the hills are the high pastures where the other cows are grazing.”

Cara hugged herself, letting her gaze roam over the space. “It’s absolutely beautiful,” she breathed. “I don’t know if I want to leave.”

“I know the feeling,” Nicholas said, sitting down on the ground.

Cara hesitated a moment, then followed suit. And, to her surprise, Nicholas moved closer and she didn’t move away.

His arm brushed hers and she caught the scent of horse mixed with hay and the faintest hint of soap.

The smell of Nicholas, she thought.

She turned her attention back to the view.

“I don’t know how you can leave this,” she said, wrapping her arms around her knees.

Nicholas didn’t reply and she wished she could take her ill-timed comment back. It was that leaving that had caused the tension that sang between them last time.

Then he turned to her and grinned. “And I don’t know how you can work in a lab when I know that you love working with animals.”

His comment spoke to her doubts. Since she had started working for her uncle, she felt anchored. Secure. As if the land and the people and the community were drawing her into themselves and giving her the home she missed when she was working in Vancouver.

“I do love it here. I feel like I can breathe.”

“So why go?”

He spoke the words lightly, but they clung to Cara, mining her own doubts.

“There isn’t room for me at the clinic. This new vet is here, Uncle Alan is feeling better and I’m already starting to feel redundant.” She tried to keep her voice as light as Nicholas did, but her own uncertainties hovered over her future.

And her changing feelings for Nicholas.

“I wasn’t just talking about the clinic,” Nicholas said quietly, a wealth of meaning in his voice.

“I know.” She turned to him and as their eyes met, her concerns receded. “And what about you? Do you have to go?”

Nicholas sighed as he leaned his elbows on his knees. “Unfortunately, yes.”

The finality of his statement resurrected her wavering. “Will there come a time when you don’t have to leave? When the ranch can hold its own?”

Nicholas didn’t answer right away and once again she wondered if she had entered forbidden territory.

“I’m hoping.” He looked at her, then to her surprise, reached up and cupped her cheek in his hand. As her heart billowed and expanded in her chest, he leaned closer and brushed his lips over hers. “I’m really hoping.”

Cara swallowed as his hope became hers.

He pulled back, tracing her mouth with his thumb. “So, Cara Morrison, now what?” he asked, articulating her own question.

“I’m not sure,” she said, her voice breathless.