Love Inspired June 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: The Cowboy's Homecoming\The Amish Widow's Secret\Safe in the Fireman's Arms (7 page)

Abby's heart twisted, her own thoughts a sudden turmoil. She understood what Monty was doing. A father speaking on behalf of his son, but at the same time, she knew that regrets wouldn't change what had happened to her family.

“You may as well know, I didn't want to take this job on,” she confided. “But I decided to accept it because part of me wants to put this mess of my father's accident—and Lee's role in it—behind me. I want to be done with it all.”

“I'm glad to hear that,” Monty said gruffly. “He's a good son. He's lost a lot in all of this too.”

Abby heard what he was saying, but nonetheless, as she looked around the ranch, as she thought of the grandiose house she had just left, the legacy Lee could take on if he just said yes, it was hard not to compare it to what she had personally lost.

Somehow, in spite of it all, Lee had still come out ahead.

* * *

“You're sure you're okay with this?” Lee adjusted Abby's stirrup and looked up at her, silhouetted against the cloudy sky, sitting on Bonny's back. The sun slipped from behind a cloud and burnished her reddish hair, creating a halo effect, putting her face in shadows. He felt an unwelcome stirring in his chest. The hesitant beginnings of attraction.

They're more than beginnings. You were attracted to her before.

“It's high up here” was all she said.

Lee couldn't fathom her tension around Bonny. Even though he had been away from horses for a number of years, once he stepped out into the corrals and saw them come running at his call, he felt a sense of belonging. He moved easily among them, singling out the ones he would be using. As he had bridled and saddled, his hands found the rhythm, working with the horses, buckling, tightening, assuring. It felt so natural to be around them, he couldn't imagine feeling as uncomfortable as Abby looked.

“We could use the quad.” He felt he had to offer, but he sincerely hoped she wouldn't take him up on it. For one thing, the quad wasn't as nimble as the horses and would be more awkward to get over some of the rockier places in the trail. For another, he wasn't sure he wanted her sitting right behind him again as she had done yesterday. He had been far too aware of her and wasn't keen on experiencing that again. Because, like it or not, he and Abby were an impossible and complicated combination.

Lee gritted his teeth, knowing he had no one to blame but himself. He'd had his chance with her, and his own poor choices had messed that up.

Besides, he was probably leaving again once his sister was married.

“No. That's fine,” she said, cutting into his thoughts. “I want to try this. After all, if I'm expected to come on the cattle drive, then I better get some horse time in.”

“Good point. Now stand up in the stirrups so I can check the length,” he instructed, hoping the initial preparations would ease her skittishness. “If this saddle works, I'll make sure to keep it adjusted for you.”

“No one else needs it?” she asked as she slowly stood. She wobbled, then sat down again.

“No. We have plenty of saddles. One of the benefits of having a saddle maker in the family. Ankle okay?” he asked before he slid the casing down over the buckle. She had enough clearance from the saddle and the stirrups were okay.

“It's not my ankle that's the problem,” she said, her nervousness seeming to grow. “But I'll be okay as long as my horse behaves.”

“If my dad vouches for Bonny, you can be sure she's bombproof. He wouldn't put you on a horse that would cause you any trouble.” As if to prove a point, he ran his hands down Bonny's withers and the horse didn't even flinch.

His father had offered to help get the horses saddled up and Lee recognized the gesture for what it was. A small peace offering for the quarrel they'd had in the house. Lee knew he shouldn't have been so short with his dad, but every time he saw Monty and John talking together, he felt shut out. He knew they didn't do it intentionally; it was the reality of his situation. He was the one who had stayed away, the son who hadn't claimed his inheritance even though he had his reasons.

“Bombproof sounds good,” Abby said, still sounding skittish.

“If you want, I can take your knapsack with me,” Lee offered, waiting beside her to make sure she was comfortable.

Bonny shifted, snorted, then shook her head, her bridle clanking, and Abby jumped again. But then she relaxed slightly. “No, thanks. I always carry my own equipment.” Today she had also taken a tripod, which she had slipped through a sleeve across the back of her knapsack.

“If you're sure, we can get going.” Lee patted Bonny on the side, as if to remind her of his expectations, then walked over to Bandit and in one easy motion mounted the horse.

He grinned at the familiar feel of the saddle, his feet in the stirrups, the reins in his hand. His father had made this saddle, but Lee hadn't used it for over four years. The last time he was back at the ranch, it had been winter and too cold to go riding. The time before that it was only a short visit.

This was the longest stretch of time he would be back at the ranch since he'd left.

He turned Bandit away from the hitching post, nudged him gently in the side, signaling a walk, then led the way toward the gates of the first pastures. His heart lifted at the thought of the ride ahead.

“We'll be going across this pasture to the fence on the far side,” he said, turning back to Abby, “Through another set of gates and then through the trees, leading to the upper pasture.”

She gave him a quick nod, but he could see from the way her lips were pressed together that she was still feeling tense. At least she wasn't hauling on the reins like many first-time riders, treating them like brakes, holding the horse's head down and confusing him.

Well, she said she was willing, so she would figure it out, he thought, reaching down and unlatching the gate from the back of his horse. He rode through, Bandit pushing the gate open with his body, then waited for Abby to follow.

“That's a neat trick,” she said, sounding a little less nervous.

“Sheer laziness,” he returned. “Don't feel like getting off and on the horse.” He latched the gate and then continued on. He kept his horse alongside Abby's, checking as the horses walked over the pasture.

She released a slow breath as the horses ambled along. “Well, this isn't half as scary as I imagined,” she said. “When you mentioned riding, I pictured us galloping across the open fields, me screaming and clinging for dear life to the saddle. Not an elegant thought.”

He laughed. “This is a ride, not a rodeo.”

She smiled and he could see her slowly settling into the saddle, releasing the tension that held her in its grip. “I think I can get used to this.” She patted Bonny on the side, letting the horse know she was okay.

Lee rested one hand on his thigh, the other holding the reins loosely, moving with the horse. The scent of warm grass, leather and horseflesh wafted around him, filling in an emptiness in his life that, till now, nothing else had been able to replenish. He looked around at the hills as familiar to him as the lines of his own hands, the mountains he had watched through nineteen seasons of his life. He knew what kept him away, but at the same time, he felt an unspoken yearning slowly ease away.

“You look happy,” Abby said.

Lee looked back at her, somewhat dismayed to catch her studying him. At least she didn't have that camera out again.

“Content is more like it,” he returned.

“Same thing, isn't it?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. Contentment has a depth to it that can't be as easily flipped on and off as happiness. I've discovered that happiness is too fickle an emotion.”

“That's...profound.”

“Stick around, girl,” he said. “I'm just getting started.”

“A veritable font of wisdom.”

His lips twisted ruefully. “I learned a few things in prison.”

And, as often happened when he used the
P
word, an awkward silence fell between them.

Thankfully they had come to the next gate. Lee opened it, let her through and when he closed it, he looked up to see her, camera in hand, lifting it up to take a picture.

He held up his hand. “Please. Don't.”

“Will Bonny be okay with me doing this?”

“Bonny's fine. Loop the reins around your arm so you don't lose them, though. As for the camera, I just don't want you taking my picture.”

“I'm not taking your picture,” she murmured, clicking away, one-handed, even though Lee could see that the lens was pointed at him. “I am capturing a man, a horse and a legacy.”

“Then you should be taking pictures of my dad. After all, it's his ranch and his legacy.” He didn't like the faintly defensive tone that crept into his voice. His father had been making his disappointment with Lee known all through high school. Mowing down and seriously injuring Abby's father had simply been the final straw in Monty's estimation of Lee's life and his prospects. Spending three years in prison, and seeing people's reactions to that episode in his life, had created a deep humility in Lee along with the realization that nothing was owed to him. All he had was simply through God's grace.

Lee clucked to his horse and walked in front of her, leading the way. The path, well trodden by the cows, was wide enough for two horses to ride abreast, but Abby seemed content to stay behind. And, truth to tell, he preferred it. Something about her piercing gaze unsettled him. Every now and again he heard the whirr and click of her camera, but this time he kept his comments to himself.

After half an hour of riding, the trees broke open into a sweeping, open basin. He stopped at the top of it, looking down the gentle slope to where the cows were grazing below him, brown and block dots scattered over the lush green hills. Farther in the distance, he saw the silver thread of the creek cutting through the pasture, tumbling down toward the far pastures of the ranch.

“Are these all your cattle?”

“This bunch is only part of them,” he said as he dismounted, his saddle creaking gently. Abby hadn't ridden before, so he thought she might appreciate the break. “Dad keeps the cattle scattered over three different pastures.” Lee walked over to assist Abby, but she was already carefully getting off the mare. He stood close enough to help if she needed it, but not so close that she would feel he was hovering.

“So these are only a third of the herd?” Abby asked, letting her backpack slip off her arm and lowering it to the grass once she was all the way down, still holding the reins in the other hand.

“These are the first-calf heifers. They represent a quarter of the herd. The older cows with calves at foot are in another pasture. Those are the ones we'll be moving for the anniversary celebrations.” He held out his hand to her. “Give me Bonny's reins. Then you can take pictures easier.”

As she handed them over, their hands brushed and Lee had to fight the urge to tighten his fingers around her hand.

Abby, seemingly unaffected by the moment, walked slowly to the edge of the basin, knelt down and started shooting. Then she checked her camera, made a few adjustments and took a few more shots.

While she worked, Lee drew in a long, slow breath. A smile curved his lips as he looked back toward the cattle grazing along the vast open spaces. The sight wrapped around his soul and curled around it close like a fist.

Ever since the accident, he had felt disoriented and off-kilter, as if his world was always tilted. But now he felt as though he had found solid ground. A firm foundation on the Bannister legacy, unbroken and unchanging for one hundred and fifty years.

Until now.

Your father doesn't have to be the last Bannister on this land. You could stay.

But behind that tantalizing thought came the reality of his own history and the shame he had brought on the family by his irresponsible actions. Could he truly let go of that? Did he dare to think he could simply make a decision to come back and there would be room for him? What's more, did he have the courage to face a tight-knit community affected by his actions?

“You said it was your great-great-grandparents who settled this place,” Abby said as she walked back to where her backpack lay, her voice penetrating his thoughts. “But how did they get started? How did they survive?”

“
Barely
survived, that is,” Lee replied, sparing her a quick look. “They had some horrific years after they first arrived. There weren't many neighbors to help out, and times were lean, according to the stories handed down. I think Great-grandpa headed down to Virginia City to work the gold mines a few years. He made some cash, which helped them get through some of the tough years. It also helped them expand as they slowly got their feet under them.”

He paused for a moment, looking out once again over the gently rolling hills, before continuing. “They made it through the Indian wars, had a couple of sons who worked alongside them on the ranch and then those boys went on to work on the railroad when it came through.” Turning toward Abby, he fixed his gaze squarely on hers. Her look of rapt fascination prompted him to go on. “In the great blizzard of the 1880s, I think they lost half the herd. But they stayed, expanded, worked together, married, had their own boys who took over from them... And so it went, the ranch getting passed down through the generations.”

“Has it stayed intact all through the years?”

“It's been fluid, depending on who stayed and who left. At one time the ranch was larger, but it got split off a few generations ago. My dad's second cousin, Keith McCauley, still ranches here, but who knows what will happen to his place?”

“How come?” she asked curiously.

“Well, he only had the three girls and they haven't shown the least bit of interest in his place. My grandfather ranched with Keith's brother but bought him out when he wanted to leave the valley. Keith still owns a fair-sized ranch, though.”