Читать книгу The Rancher's Return - Carolyne Aarsen - Страница 10

“Easy now. Slow it down.” Carter clucked to Banjo, easing his hand down his leg and lifting his hoof. “Good job. Good horse.” He patted him, then ducked under the horse’s neck to do the same on the other side.

Banjo’s tan hide shone from the brushing Carter gave him. He’d been working with the horse in the open paddock for the past half hour, doing some basic groundwork before he took him out. Reestablishing the relationship he’d had with this horse when he started training him three years ago.

A year before—

He cut that thought off, frustrated with the flood of memories he’d had to endure since coming back to the ranch.

His hand on Banjo’s back, he glanced around at the ranch again, fighting the twist of helpless frustration. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Wade was. But Wade was in the house packing up to leave, and because of that Carter was stuck here until the buyer showed up.

His eyes drifted over the familiar contours of the mountains surrounding the valley. His mother, Noelle, had moved back onto the ranch when she was expecting him and his twin brother, Garret. He never knew who his father was and, apparently, neither did his mother. At any rate, his parentage on his father’s side was never discussed.

And when their mother died of cancer when Carter and Garret were ten, there was never any question of where they would live. Here. On the ranch.

Garret and Carter had grown up in the shadows of these mountains. He knew what they looked like in winter, when the cold winds surged down their snow-covered sides. In the spring when the new leaves of the aspen trees lent a counterpoint to the dark green of the spruce and fir.

He and Garret had ridden or driven down every possible game trail in and through the hills.

And when Garret went off to university to get his engineering degree, Carter had stayed behind, working on the ranch with his grandfather and eventually buying out his share.

Carter thought he’d never leave.

“How things change,” he muttered, turning back to the horse. Once he was done with Banjo, he was heading out to check on the cows. In spite of his reluctance to be here, he couldn’t stop a thrill of anticipation at seeing the open fields of the upper pasture. This time of the year they would be green and lush and the cattle spread out over them, calves at foot.

“He’s settled down a lot the past two days.”

Emma’s quiet voice from the gate startled him, and as he spun around, Banjo jumped.

“Easy, boy,” Carter murmured, stroking his side as he watched Emma cross the corral, leading her horses. She wore her usual blue jeans and worn cowboy boots. Today her T-shirt was blue with a rodeo logo on the front. Some remnant of her previous life. “He’s got a good heart,” Carter said, catching his lead rope.

“And a good nature. He’s been well trained,” Emma said quietly.

Carter noticed the saddles on her two horses. “Are you going out?”

“Adam and I are riding to the upper pasture.”

“I’m going up there. You don’t need to come along. I know where the pasture is.”

Emma shot him a frown. “I’m sure you do, but I made this plan with Wade a couple of days ago. I promised Adam he could come, and he’s excited to go.”

“I can do this alone,” he said, feeling he had to lodge one more protest. He did not want to spend any more time with the little boy than he had to.

“I’m not going to let my son down,” Emma said, a hint of steel in her voice. “He’s had enough disappointments for now.”

Carter knew she was referring to the nonsale of the nonacreage, but it wasn’t his fault the buyer probably didn’t want to subdivide.

“We’ll go together then,” Carter said with forced nonchalance. Adam made him feel uncomfortable, but he wasn’t staying behind while a stranger did the work needed on his own ranch. Though he was selling the place, he still had a stake in the ranch’s well-being. And in spite of wanting to be rid of the Rocking K, a part of him wanted to see it all one last time.

Emma’s horses stamped, impatient to get going.

“I’m going to water Diamond and Dusty at the river, then I’ll be back,” she said.

Carter looked past her and frowned again. “Where’s Adam?”

“Getting some cookies for the trip. Miranda is making up a batch to take along when they leave.” Emma blew out her breath in a sigh. “I sure hope Wade’s parents are okay.”

She was quiet a moment, as if contemplating what Wade would have to deal with. Then she turned and led her horses to the river.

Banjo snorted and danced as Emma left with the horses.

“Easy now,” he murmured, but Banjo bugled a loud whinny and Diamond stopped, tugging on his lead rope as he turned his head.

Emma tried to pull him around, but he resisted, dancing sideways. Obviously, Diamond and Banjo had bonded.

“I’ll come with you,” Carter said, tugging on Banjo’s halter rope. “My horse could use a drink, as well.”

He followed her, and both Banjo and Diamond immediately settled down.

The air, trapped in the trees edging the river, was cool. A welcome respite from the heat of the afternoon. The water burbled and splashed over the rocks, and Carter felt a sigh ease out of him. “I’d forgotten how quiet it is here,” he said, glancing around as his horse drank noisily from the river.

“That’s why I like coming out here to water the horses,” Emma said. “Though I still can’t figure out why Wade won’t put a waterer in the horse corral like there is for the cows. I’ve seen the fittings for it coming out of the ground.”

“I’m the one who won’t let him,” Carter said, his voice hard.

Emma shot him a puzzled glance. “Why not?”

Carter didn’t want to answer the question. Obviously Wade hadn’t told Emma everything. Thankfully, she sensed that he didn’t want to talk about it and turned her attention back to Diamond, finger combing out the tangles in his mane.

He blew, then stamped his feet, acting like a kid getting his hair brushed.

“His hooves need trimming,” Carter said, angling his chin toward Diamond’s feet, eager to switch to a more mundane topic of conversation.

“I know. I haven’t mastered that part of farrier work yet,” Emma said. “And Wade hasn’t had a chance to do it.”

While he watched her, she cocked her head to one side, as if waiting for something. Then she smiled. “There’s the train,” Emma said.

He tilted his head, listening. Then, in the distance he heard the rumbling of the coal train, and habit made him glance at his watch. Right on time.

Dusty, her other horse, tugged at the reins, as if eager to get on with the trip, but Emma stayed where she was as the second blast of the train’s horn wound its way through the valley. “I love that sound. So mournful and melancholy.”

Another memory slid into Carter’s mind. His grandmother stopping while she was weeding the garden to listen to the same sound. She even had the same expression on her face as Emma.

“You’ll get sick enough of that noise when you hear it every day, week after week.” Sylvia would complain that the train horn woke her up, but Carter had grown up with the train and seldom noticed it. He had assured her that she would eventually do the same.

“I have, and I’m not,” Emma said as she led her horses back up the bank. “The routine reminds a person of where he is even if he’s not aware of it. Kind of anchors you.”

“Routine can deaden you too,” he replied.

Emma’s skeptical look at his comment as she passed him made Carter think of the miles he put on his bike and truck the past two years. The constant movement from job to job, thinking that avoiding home and familiarity would ease the pain and guilt.

Instead it was as if his sorrow was replaced by a deeper longing he couldn’t fill no matter how hard he rode, how many different places he worked.

“Hey, Mom. I got cookies for our trip.”

Carter’s heart jumped at the sound of Adam’s voice calling across the yard. He clenched his jaw and struggled once again with his reaction to Emma’s little boy. He’d seen children numerous times in his travels.

He’d just never seen them riding a horse. Like Harry did. Walking around his ranch like a living reminder of what Carter didn’t have anymore.

Adam sat perched on the top rail of the corral, waving a paper bag dotted with grease. “They’re really good.”

“Don’t shake that bag too hard,” Emma warned with a laugh. “You’ll lose the cookies.”

“And I might scare the horses,” he added, lowering the bag. “Can I come down?” he asked, shifting his weight toward the edge of the fence.

“Just stay there until I get Diamond and Dusty tied up,” Emma said, leading the horses past Adam.

Carter held back while Emma walked her horses through the gate, even as his gaze slipped, against his will, back to Adam, rocking back and forth on the top rail of the fence.

Carter ducked under Banjo’s neck. Adam startled and pulled back.

“Mommy,” he called as he flailed his arm, holding on to the bag of cookies with the other hand.

He was falling, and Emma was too far away to help.

Carter reached up and snagged him around the waist, steadying him as he slipped off the fence.

“I want my mommy,” Adam said, pushing at Carter with one hand, as he tried to catch his balance. Banjo shied while Carter juggled Adam and the halter rope.

“Let me get Banjo settled,” Carter said to Adam, glancing over his shoulder at his horse, who was dancing around, ears back. “Hold still. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Adam stopped pushing. Carter shifted him onto his hip, caught his balance and pulled the horse’s head around.

“Whoa, boy. Easy now,” he murmured, walking Banjo around in a circle. His horse took a quick sidestep as he shook his head and then blew. But his ears pricked up, and Carter knew he had the horse’s attention. “It’s okay,” he murmured, reassuring the horse.

“Will my bag of cookies scare him?” Adam said in a quiet voice, now resting one hand on Carter’s shoulder.

“I don’t think so,” Carter said, his own heart faltering at Adam’s touch. It had been two years since he held a little child. Two years since a child’s arm laid on his shoulder.

Adam smelled of fresh baking and warm sun and little boy. Longing and pain rose up in Carter, and he didn’t know which emotion was the strongest.

“Is everything okay?” Emma asked quietly.

“We’re fine,” Carter said, surprised at the tightness of his throat. When Adam saw his mother, though, he reached out for her.

Carter felt a sense of loss as Adam’s weight came off his hip and the little boy’s hand slipped off his shoulder. For just a moment, the emptiness had eased. For a nanosecond, his arms hadn’t felt so empty.

But right behind that came the pain.

“Sorry about that,” Emma said, setting Adam on the ground and then tousling his hair. “I’m sure Adam didn’t mean to startle Banjo.”

“No. He didn’t do anything.” Carter looked down at Adam, his heart beginning a heavy pounding. “I startled him, that’s all. I hope Adam’s okay.”

Adam squinted up at him, his face scrunched up as if trying to figure Carter out. “I’m okay,” he said quietly. “Thanks for helping me and for not getting mad at me.”

Carter couldn’t speak. How could he explain to this little boy the complications his presence created and the memories that resurfaced around him? It wasn’t Adam’s fault he was the same age Harry was when he died. But every time Carter saw him, the reminder of his loss plunged into his heart like a knife.

He caught Emma’s enigmatic expression. As if trying to puzzle him out.

Don’t bother, he wanted to tell her. It’s not worth it.

But as their gazes caught and meshed, she gave him a careful smile, as if forgiving him his confusion.

He wasn’t going to return it. He was also going to look away. But he couldn’t.

Something about her called to him, and as he looked into her soft brown eyes, emotions shifted deep within him.

“Are we going now?”

Adam’s voice jerked Carter back to reality and he looked away.

“That is the plan,” Emma replied. “But I want to go say goodbye to Wade and Miranda first. They’ll probably be gone by the time we return.” She looked at Carter. “Did you want to come too?”

“I’ve already said goodbye,” Carter said, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

“I’ll wait here with Mr. Carter.” Adam flashed him a grin as if all was well between them.

“Make sure you don’t eat all the cookies,” Emma called back as she walked away.

“The cows are looking good,” Emma said, leaning forward, her hands stacked on the saddle horn. Her eyes swept the green hills edged with fir trees, and she grinned as a half dozen calves chased each other along a fence line. Their tails were straight up and their legs stretched out. Running for no reason other than the fact that they could. Goofy creatures.

“Looks like we’ve got more animals on the pasture than other years,” Carter said, shifting in the saddle. “I’ve never seen the grass so long up here before. You’ve done good work here.”