Читать книгу The Rancher's Promise - Jillian Hart - Страница 10

Justin upended the bucket into the stall, letting fresh grain tumble into the feeding trough. The polite old gelding nickered what sounded like thanks and swished his tail before nosing in to lap up the treats. One animal cared for. He knuckled back his hat, watching Rori out of the corner of his eye. The bulk of his thoughts ought to be centered on the expecting mare, but his mind seemed drawn magnetically to the woman, fresh-faced and so wholesome she made his teeth ache.

She looked as if she belonged here with her light hair tied back in a single ponytail swinging slightly with her slow gait. The concern for the mare touching her face made her a hundred times more beautiful than any makeup artist could. With the sun spearing through the skylights above and through the open doors, she looked ethereal, too lovely to be true, and something straight out of his forgotten dreams.

Footsteps padded through the grass and dirt. Dad’s gait, dragging a bit from a long night spent up and down checking on the mares. Frank came into sight. “Looks like she surprised you.”

“Yep. I came out to feed the stock and Wildflower was down in the field.”

“I wasn’t talking about the horse.”

Justin frowned. Impossible to miss the grin on his dad’s face. He figured he would set them up, was that it? He shook his head at his dad. Now wasn’t the time to hash this out. The horse was the concern. His boots carried him down the aisle and before he realized it he was at Rori’s side, doing his best not to notice the light spray of freckles on her nose as he took the lead rope from her. As careful as he was, his fingers brushed hers. Her skin was warm and satin-soft, and a shoot of tenderness took root in his chest.

“You can go on up to the house now.” His voice sounded scratchy and thick with feelings best left un-examined. “Thanks for your help.”

“Any time.” She stepped away, shy and graceful as always, as if nothing significant had happened between them. Of course she hadn’t reacted to his accidental touch. Why would she? She backed down the aisle, glancing between him and his dad. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll be back with some coffee.”

“Bless you.” Frank tipped his hat to her. “I could use some chow, too.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” She ran her hand gently along Wildflower’s swollen side. “It’s going to be okay, girl.”

Don’t start liking her again, Justin told himself. He’d always been a sucker for a woman who was kind to animals. That’s what had gotten him noticing her in high school in the first place. A few years ago, that’s why he’d decided to trust Tia.

“Same old Rori.” Frank ambled close and rubbed the mare’s neck. “Good to see that it’s true.”

“What’s true?” He turned his shoulder, afraid that his dad had noticed something Justin wasn’t ready to admit to himself.

“You can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl.” Frank smiled as he spoke, as if he was greatly amused. “Why, what did you think I was going to say?”

“Let’s just help the mare.” His face heated. He didn’t like that his dad had figured things out. Just because he liked Rori didn’t mean a thing. Probably he always would like her. She was a nice woman. “Think we can wait for the vet?”

“Get Wildflower in the stall, and I’ll scrub up.” Frank gave the horse another caring pat, for the mare had nickered at the sound of her name. “It won’t be much longer now, sweetheart. You go with Justin.”

“Dad, you know nothing is going to happen between Rori and me, don’t you?” He gently eased the mare toward the birthing stall.

“Is that what you think?” A barrel laugh rang out as he disappeared into the washroom.

“Isn’t that why you have been trying to push me and Rori together?” Fresh hay crinkled beneath his boots and Wildflower’s hooves.

“I figured the two of you ought to resolve things. It’s not good to leave loose ends the way you have with that gal.” Water rushed, pouring into a stainless-steel sink. “Don’t you reckon it’s time you forgave her?”

“For running out on me?”

“For doing what she had to do. For following the path the Good Lord set her on.” The water cut off, and Frank ambled into sight, drying his hands and forearms on a fluffy blue towel. He tossed it over the top of an empty stall gate. “You’re not so good at forgiveness, son.”

“I don’t want to be you. No offense.” Wildflower lowered her head, heaving, her knees buckling.

“Let’s get her on her side.” Frank jumped to help. He had worked with animals all of his life, and it showed in the skill and comfort his touch seemed to bring Wildflower. The mare leaned her neck into his hands.

One day he wanted to be as good a man as his dad. The trouble was, he didn’t want to be as gullible. Their mom had left Dad twice. Both times Dad had wrestled with a shattered heart, later accepted her apologies and let her back into their lives. Then he’d taken care of her when liver disease set in.

No one in their right mind would ever call Frank Granger a fool, but he did have a big heart. Too big.

That was something Justin would make sure he would never have. No way did he intend to let any woman tread on his dignity like Dad had allowed Mom to. At the time, Dad had young kids who missed their mom and wanted her back, too, but a man could only take so much. Justin had already reached that limit.

“Sounds like Nate’s here.” Frank stopped to listen. “Yep, tires in the gravel. Help has arrived.”

Justin ran his hand down the mare’s nose, murmuring low to comfort her, and forced his thoughts away from Rori.

But it didn’t work.

“Need a hand?” Autumn swaggered through the mudroom and popped her head into the kitchen.

“No, I’m managing just fine.” Rori slapped the last omelet onto the last plate and turned off the burner. “How is Wildflower?”

“A brand-new mama.” There was a thunk, thunk, presumably Autumn kicking off her boots before she strode into the room with two large thermoses. “She made it through just fine once they got things heading out straight. She has the cutest little filly. All long legs, bottlebrush mane and the biggest brown eyes. Cheyenne is going to flip when she gets home.”

“Glad there’s good news. I could tell your dad was worried. He was totally frowning. I didn’t know he was capable of it.” She rescued the platter of bacon and sausage patties from the warm oven and walked down the counter, filling plates. “I’ll get you all some more coffee and tea in a jiffy. I was going to bring breakfast out to the barn.”

“Sounds like a good idea. Dad was up half the night checking on the mare as it is, and you know Justin, grumbling about being behind with the morning chores.” Autumn set the thermoses on the counter and rolled her eyes. Her light auburn hair tumbled loose around her shoulders. At first glance, no one would peg her as a tomboy, not with her china-doll complexion, deep hazel eyes and leggy stature, but Rori knew no one could outride her. She’d tried many times. “How is Bella?”

“Still the best horse in the history of the world.” Autumn uncapped the thermoses. “I had to stop and say hi to Copper. He’s looking good for his age. Your grandfather is pampering him.”

“Gramps can’t help himself. Once a horse lover, always a horse lover.”

“That’s the truth. It’s the way God made us.” Autumn yanked the coffee carafe from the machine and upended it over a thermos. “It has to be weird being back. You’ve been away for so long.”

“I hadn’t realized how much I’ve missed this pokey little town. Not one thing happens there.” She did her best not to remember the past and the impatient girl she’d been. And how eager to experience something more exciting than dinky Wild Horse, Wyoming. “It used to drive me crazy, but I’m thankful for it now. It’s reassuring when home always stays the same.”

“Speaking of things that haven’t changed. Clem’s—now The Greasy Spoon—still makes the best burgers around.” Autumn screwed the cap on the thermos and reached for the hot-water carafe. “Have any plans, say, middle of the week?”

“Are you thinking horse ride?”

“Just like old times.” There was a quiet question hanging in the air between them, but Autumn didn’t ask it. Instead she finished pouring the water. “I’ll run this outside. Need me to take anything?”

“How about the muffins?” The sausage platter was empty and she set it aside to snatch the cloth-covered basket from the edge of the kitchen table.

“Yum. Smells good.” Autumn hugged the thermoses and took the basket into the crook of her arm. “Hate to rain on your parade, but guess who’s listening at the door?”

“I’m not listening,” a man grumbled from the mudroom. “I’m getting some clean towels for the barn.”

Justin. Rori’s palms went damp, and she wiped them on her jeans. Great. Why hadn’t she noticed he was there? How much had he overheard?

“Yeah, right.” Autumn chuckled as she strolled out the door. “You could have asked me to bring back the towels.”

“Didn’t think of it.” Justin sounded easygoing as he spoke with his sister. “Did anyone think to call Cheyenne?”

“I’ll do it,” Autumn called out a split second before the screen door slapped shut.

Rori set the plates on a tray she’d found in one of the bottom cupboards and covered the steaming food. With every movement she made, she was infinitely aware of Justin in the next room, the faint shuffle of his boots on the tile floor, the muted squeak of a cabinet door closing and the rustle of fabric as he paced to the kitchen door.

“Need any help?” Hard to tell if he was being friendly or just helpful, as he might be to any hired hand.

“Nope, but thanks. I’ve got it.”

“You could make us trudge into the kitchen to eat, you know. You don’t have to bring food to us.”

“I don’t mind. You’ve all had a busy morning and it’s not even six o’clock.” She opened the drawer and began counting out flatware. This is just conversation, she told herself. Justin had meant what he said about letting bygones be. He was making an effort, and it mattered. She could, too. “Since you’re standing there with a free hand, you could grab the juice on the counter.”

“Good. I like to make myself useful.” A faint hint of his dimples carved into either side of his mouth. He ambled into the kitchen, shrinking the room with his size and presence. He casually scooped up the pitcher and the stacked plastic glasses without complaint. “You need to come see the new filly.”

“Autumn said she was the cutest thing.”

“Foals usually are.” He held the door for her, and somehow the morning seemed brighter as they headed down the steps and along the path together. “You were calm under pressure, Rori. You helped a lot.”

“I did nothing. I called the vet. I walked the horse.” She shrugged. “Anyone could have done the same.”

“Not anyone. I was afraid you had turned into a city slicker, but I can see you’ve still got some Wyoming girl in you. I’m glad you’re working here. It’s a big responsibility running this place, and it will be a burden off Dad’s mind to know he’s got someone in the house he can rely on. Someone to feed us and the hired men when we get hungry.”

“I’m glad you think I’m a help.” She held the tray steady, flatware and dishes clattering with each step, and squinted against the low slant of the morning sun. She’d forgotten her ball cap. Grass slapped against her shins, crunched beneath her shoes and barely hid a jackrabbit who startled away into the field as they approached.

“Rori.” Frank hurried out of the barn to take the heavy tray from her and shot his son a telling glance. “That’s too heavy for you to carry all this way.”

“No problem. I’m stronger than I look.”

“Oh, the problem wasn’t with you. I thought I raised my son better than that.”

“I offered, but she turned me down.” Justin put the pitcher and cups down on top of a barrel.

“I did. I wouldn’t have given up the tray if he’d tried to wrestle it away from me.” She followed Mr. Granger and the tray to a walled-off room next to the tack room, where a sink and counter, microwave and small refrigerator sat as neat and as clean as any kitchen. A small battered dinette set huddled in the center of the area. Frank slid the tray onto the faded pink Formica top and the rest of the Grangers plus the vet descended on the table.

“Want to come see her?” Justin’s voice rang low, but even with the clang of dishes, rise of voices and cheerful conversation it was the only thing she heard.

“I’d love to.” She floated after him, excitement tingling through her. It had been ages since she’d seen a newborn foal. She loped down the aisle, the stalls empty this time of year, and felt the fingers of the past trying to grab hold of her. She was at home with the warm scent of horseflesh and grain in the air and the concrete beneath her feet. Maybe she’d never realized how much she loved country life.

“Hey, there, Wildflower.” Tender-toned, Justin knelt down at the stall bars. “We just want to get a good look at your baby.”

“Your beautiful baby,” Rori corrected, wrapping her hand around the rail and kneeling beside him. Wildflower nickered low in her throat, a proud mama who turned to lick at her little filly’s dainty ear.

Nothing could be sweeter than the little gold-and-white bundle curled up in the soft clean hay. The newborn stared at them with a surprised expression, as if she didn’t know what to think about the strange faces staring in at her. She blinked her long eyelashes and stretched toward them as far as her neck would allow.

“That’s a pretty girl,” Justin soothed, holding out his hand, palm up, his motions slow.

The filly gave his fingers a swipe with her tongue and drew back, as if her own boldness startled her. Wildflower nickered gently to her baby and, as if encouraged, the little one’s head bobbed down as she scrambled to get up on her spindly legs and point them in the correct direction.

Sunshine tumbled through the open top half of the stall door, gleaming on the mare and foal’s velvet coats. Wildflower rubbed her chin on her daughter’s shoulder, a congratulatory pat, and nickered proudly. The tiny filly wobbled on her thin, impossibly long legs and flicked her bob of a tail joyfully. She took a few proud steps. Her front knees gave out and she landed in the soft hay.

“Poor baby.” Rori reached through the rails instinctively, making sure the newborn was all right. The foal looked up at her with big, wondrous eyes, and Rori felt her chest catch. Hard not to fall in love with the wee one. She couldn’t help brushing her fingers across the soft velvet nose. “You will get the hang of it. I promise. Keep at it.”

The foal’s eyes drifted shut, as if she liked the gentle stroke.

“You still have a way with animals.” Justin’s low voice moved her like the brush of the summer air and the peace of the morning. Familiar, and it was what she’d missed over the years.

“I do all right.” She didn’t have a gift, just love for creatures large and small. “Not the way you do.”

“I got it all from my dad.” No way to hide the affection in his voice. “I learned a lot growing up at his knee. One day, I might be good enough to take over the place when he retires.”

“Word is that he’s cutting back, handing over a lot of the responsibilities of the ranch to you and Autumn.”

“Your gramps was talking about me, huh?” He paused as the filly opened her eyes, set her chin with determination and positioned her front hooves for another go at walking. “Dad wants to retire, but truth is, he loves the work. It’s not like he has anything else to do. He’s single, and he’s done raising all of us.”

“It’s good that you’re close. You must spend a lot of time with him.”

“A perk of the job.” He’d sacrificed a lot for his dad and for this ranch that had been in his family for five generations. “It’s what I like most about ranching. Long hours in the saddle talking with my dad.”

“I can’t picture you doing anything else but ranching.” She gazed up at him with those big blue eyes.

He felt the impact like a touch to his cheek. Her gaze raked him, as if she were trying to see past the titanium barrier he’d put up.

“You still love the work,” she stated, not questioning. That’s how well she knew him.

“Truth is, I would have liked a lot of things, but this is what I chose.” He paused as the filly pulled herself up and swayed, but what he was seeing was Rori. The changes in her—more mature and seasoned and longing for something he couldn’t name. “Truth is, after you left town I couldn’t take it. I missed you so much.”

“You missed me? But you said—”

“That I wouldn’t even notice if you were gone?” he repeated his horrible words, angry at himself for saying what could never be taken back. She didn’t even understand what she’d been to him. “No one knew I applied to college and got in. A late admission for the winter quarter in agriculture sciences at Washington State University.”

“Where I was.” Her hand covered his, warm and comforting, a connection he did not break.

“I was all set to accept when Dad took a bullet. Rustlers. They got away with about a thousand head of cattle. I was too busy trying to save my father to stop them.”

“I’d heard he was hit. I remember Gram and Gramps talking about it. I called several times, but no one was home. I didn’t feel right about leaving a message. When I heard he was all right, I didn’t call again.”

“It was touch and go for a while there. We almost lost him. I ended up staying and pulling my weight around here, so Dad could recover. The bullet nicked his heart, so there was no question. He had to take it easy to heal right.”

“You’re a good son to him, Justin. A good man.”

“Looks can be deceiving.” He grinned, fighting the moment, because the way she peered up at him made him feel ten feet tall, the way he used to feel when she loved him.

Careful, knowing he needed to put the brakes on his thoughts, he extricated his hand from hers a little too quick and rough. Her face fell as if he’d slapped her, but he couldn’t help it. The tenderness that had taken root in his chest ached, tenderness he had no right to feel, and he’d better figure out a way to pluck it right out. It would not be wise to have gentle feelings for Rori. When summer ended, she would be out of here. Wild Horse, Wyoming, was too small for her—that hadn’t changed.