Читать книгу The Rancher's Promise - Jillian Hart - Страница 9

“Mighty fine grub, Rori.” Mr. Granger—Frank—dug his spoon into the big bowl of chili in front of him. “We haven’t eaten this good in months.”

Judging by the look of satisfaction on his face, he was telling the truth instead of tempering it with kindness. Relieved, she turned back to the sink. She wasn’t the most accomplished cook, since she and Brad had employed a maid who’d done most of the food preparation. “I’ve gotten rusty, but being home with Gram and Gramps has given me some practice.”

“If this is rusty, I can’t wait to eat what you fix when you’re back in practice. Autumn, where did Justin get off to?”

“He had to check on a mare.”

“He missed grace, and if he’s not careful he’s going to miss supper.” He didn’t look all that happy with his son. Probably it was disappointing work being a matchmaker.

“Do you want me to stick around, or should I take off?” She’d tidied the kitchen and put all the prep dishes into the dishwasher. “I can stay, but my grandparents—”

“Are expecting you.” Frank nodded. “Sure, go ahead. It’s Justin’s turn to do dishes, since he left the lunch mess.”

“Serves him right,” littlest sister Addison piped up from her side of the table. It was hard to get used to her being so grown up. When Rori left town, Addison had been eight. Now she had just finished her junior year of college. The girl with the ponytails and freckles was only a memory replaced by a tall beauty. Addison frowned, wrinkling her perfect complexion. “Justin looks down on kitchen work.”

“He does, and it’s our job to keep him in line,” Autumn added with a wink.

What Rori wanted to do was to get out of the house before Justin walked in. Not that she felt compelled to avoid him, but her dignity was bruised. He pitied her. No doubt, that wouldn’t change. She grabbed her ball cap from the hat hooks by the back door. “Thanks. Have a good evening, everyone.”

She slipped outside listening to the three Grangers at the table call out their goodbyes to her. The sunlight had tempered, the blazing heat kicked down a notch to hint at a beautiful early summer evening. She hopped down the steps and hurried across the lawn, the grass fragrant beneath her flip-flops.

The hills, the stretch of the high prairie and the rim of the breathtaking Tetons in the distance surrounded her. She trudged toward the barn, keeping a lookout for Justin. Best to avoid him if she could. That wouldn’t always be possible now that Frank had offered her the job, but it was likely. Justin had changed, and she hated to think she had played a hand in that.

What I would give to go back and do it over again, she thought, half prayer, half impossible wish. If she could turn back time, she never would have accepted his offer for their first fateful milkshake together. She would never have trusted or married Brad.

“Rori!”

She heard the wind carry her name. Through the lush green fields she saw Justin in the knee-high grasses, his hat shading his face and a gloved hand raised up to her. More than distance separated them. She waved back, hurrying to the barn, and freed Copper from a stall. The white-muzzled gelding nickered a warm welcome and pressed his face in her hands with unmistakable affection.

Warmth filled her—emotions she’d been battling since she’d come home. Copper’s steadfast friendship, the sweet-scented grass and the earthy hint of dust in the air, the endless blue skies, it all overwhelmed her. Life may have led her away but her roots remained deep in this land. The days of long ago felt so close she could almost hear them. The sound of the radio in Dad’s truck, running up the back steps to the whir of Mama’s mixer in the kitchen, the carefree head toss Copper used to greet her with when he was young, bounding up to the fence.

“I missed you, too, old buddy.” She leaned her forehead to his, her best friend. “C’mon. Let’s ride home.”

By the time she’d saddled and bridled him and mounted up, the yard was empty of all signs of Justin. He was probably inside finishing up the chili and corn-bread she’d made. Maybe he was seated at the table and facing the windows overlooking the backyard and the mountain view.

Was he watching her now? she wondered as she reined Copper toward the driveway. Or was he doing his best to avoid her? She sat straight in the saddle, glad when the curving road took her out of sight. It was sad how much had changed between them, when they had once been so close.

Of course, that was her fault, plain and simple. She drew her cap brim over her eyes and, squinting into the light, rode the low rays of the sun home.

“How is Wildflower?”

Autumn’s question came from as if far away. Justin shoveled a steaming spoonful of chili into his mouth, hardly feeling the burn on his tongue. He grabbed a nearby glass, gulped down some milk to put out the fire, and realized everyone in the kitchen was staring at him. Addison struggled to hide a grin.

“Seems he’s got something important on his mind, girls.” Frank, grabbing a cookie from the stash they’d bought from Clem’s, couldn’t look happier. “Looks like Autumn had better ask her question again.”

Justin cleared his throat. He was in no mood for ribbing, however well-intentioned. “Wildflower is fine. She’s close to her time.”

“Too bad Cheyenne isn’t back from school yet. I reckon she’d like to be there when her mare foals.” Frank grabbed his root beer off the table. “The Mariners are on. Anyone going to join me?”

“I will.” Addison bounded up from the table, still coltish and energetic, her strawberry-blond ponytail bobbing. “Are you comin’, Autumn?”

“No, I’m going to go sit with the mares and leave Justin with the dishes.” His oldest little sister seemed pretty pleased with herself, too. “Have fun, brother dearest. I know what you think of housework.”

“I don’t have a bad opinion about housework,” he argued. He had more outside work than he could get done in a day, the last thing he needed was more. “I just don’t want to do it.”

“Sure. We wouldn’t want you to demean yourself,” Addison joked.

“Not our brother.” Grinning at him, Autumn stole her Stetson off the wall hook. “I don’t know how you turned out to be so grumpy. You must have gotten a bad gene. It’s a shame, really.”

“A terrible shame,” Addison agreed from the counter, where she was helping herself to a cookie. “Is it my imagination, or is he grumpier tonight?”

“He’s definitely grumpier,” Autumn agreed. “Let’s hope his mood improves.”

“Or it’s going to be a long summer,” Addison predicted, backing out of the room to join their dad. The TV droned to life in the next room.

“It will be a longer summer if you two don’t knock it off.” He scowled over another spoonful of chili. “Or else.”

“Yeah, like we’re scared.” Autumn plopped her hat onto her head. “You’re all bark, Justin.”

“You never know. One day I might change.”

“I’m not worried.” She stole a cookie from the counter, too. “I’ve known you all my life. You’re one of the good guys.”

“Yeah? Haven’t you heard? Good guys finish last.”

“You’re thinking of Rori?” She nibbled on the edge of the cookie. “What happened to her? She looks so sad. Is there something I should know? Her grandparents are all right, aren’t they?”

“Rori didn’t say Del and Polly were having health problems.”

“Just checking.” Autumn said nothing more, waiting a beat before she padded through the door, but what she hadn’t said lingered more loudly than if she’d uttered the words.

Rori wasn’t all right. She was hurting. Regardless of what he’d come to think about her and women like her, he didn’t like that. Not at all.

Blurry-eyed, Rori bounded through the early morning kitchen, eyes glued to the coffeemaker in the corner. Thank heavens it was chugging away. The smell of caffeine lured her straight to the counter.

“Good mornin’, Pumpkin.” Gram’s voice startled her. There was a clang of a pot at the stove. “Aren’t you up early?”

“This isn’t early. This is still technically nighttime.” Dawn was a light haze at the rim of the dark world. “Do you get up every morning like this?”

“Early to bed, early to rise.”

“That’s your secret to being healthy and wise.” She grabbed a cup from the cabinet. “I’m going to ride Copper over to the Grangers and leave you and Gramps with the truck.”

“Oh, we were looking forward to running you over there.” Gram flipped sausage links in the fry pan. “Del is so pleased to have you back, he’s over the moon. I am, too. Your sweet face livens up our place.”

“Not as much as yours does.” She brushed a kiss against her grandmother’s cheek. “I won’t be home until late.”

“Should I keep a plate of supper warm for you?”

“No, but leave the dishes. I have to make myself useful some way.” The sound of coffee pouring and the fragrant smell of the rising steam made her sigh. A few jolts of caffeine and maybe her brain would stop feeling heavy and foggy. She hadn’t slept so hard in ages. It was all the fresh air and country living. At least being forced to come back home had a few perks.

“You know I can’t let dishes sit around in the sink. Goodness.” Gram laughed to herself. “The idea.”

“Try it, would you?” Rori slid the carafe back onto the burner and reached for the sugar bowl. “I have to earn my keep, and I’ll be mad if you don’t.”

“I don’t want you mad.” Gram slid a sausage from the pan onto a paper-toweled plate. “I want you stayin’ around as long as you can.”

“Me, too.” Rori gave the coffee a stir and set the spoon in the sink. “There’s no place like home.”

“You remember that when you start thinking about leaving us at summer’s end.” Tears prickled in her grandmother’s gentle blue eyes. “Not that I blame you, but I miss you and your sister when you’re not around.”

“Ditto.” Rori squeezed her grandmother’s frail shoulder, unable to say how hard it had been to stay away. Visits home weren’t enough, and a part of her had been sorely missing. She loved her work at the private arts school where she taught piano and music theory, but it took coming home to remember how much she loved Wyoming’s peace and quiet, the restful stretch of rolling fields, hills and endless sky of this farm and the family she loved. Her grandparents had taken her in and her younger sister when their parents had been killed in a blizzard. “Give me a call if you need anything. I won’t be home until near dark.”

“Have a good day, Pumpkin.” Gran whipped open the oven door and wrapped something in a paper towel. “Here. You need breakfast.”

She took the scrambled egg-white sandwich with thanks and headed outside. Things were simple here. Balanced meals three times a day, no endless hurrying, no pressure to measure up, no feeling like a Wyoming girl out of place in her husband’s life.

It was an odd feeling to grab the jingling bridle from the barn, whistle to Copper in the pasture and slip between the barbed-wire fencing as she did when she was younger. If only she could take an eraser and wipe away that chunk of time she’d spent in Dallas, then maybe she could find a way to be happy again. Erase her mistakes and find some peace. Wouldn’t that be a blessing?

“Good morning, old friend.” She petted Copper’s nose when he came up to her. She laughed when he tried to get a hold of her sandwich. “That’s not for you. Sorry.”

Copper gave her a sheepish look, as if he were saying he had to give it a try anyway. She slipped the bridle over his head, the bit into his mouth, and managed to get onto his back without spilling her coffee. They headed off through the fields surrounded by birdsong and the golden crown of the rising sun. Beauty surrounded her. The only shadow that loomed ahead of her was thoughts of Justin.

He wanted to leave the past behind them. Water under the bridge. He apparently had no problem doing that. He had probably gotten over her in a flash. Men were built that way, she feared. They didn’t feel as deeply as women did. Love didn’t rope them in as much, nor did it sink beyond the heart to the soul.

Justin had gotten hurt when she’d told him she couldn’t marry him and set aside her dreams for him. But he probably hadn’t shed a tear over it. He probably didn’t feel racked with regret regardless of the number of years that had passed. He just probably turned off his heart like a switch, and she was sorry for that.

He would never know how much she had wanted to say yes. She took a bite of her sandwich and a sip of coffee. He would never know how afraid she’d been of living a life without having reached her biggest goals, ending up with nothing but a list of regrets. Losing her mom in junior high had affected her forever. Life was finite. You had to make it count.

Ironically, she’d racked up more regrets by running toward her future. One thing was for sure, there would be only smart decisions and careful choices from here on out. As if in agreement, the sun peeked over the rolling hills, bringing light to the shadows.

Justin heard the muffled clip of horseshoes on the hard-packed dirt outside the main horse barn. He stuck his head over the rail to see Rori riding in on a sunbeam. Dust motes danced in the soft yellow rays, hazing her like a dream.

Or, he realized, like an answer to a quick prayer. Wildflower was standing next to him, skin flicking, head down, panting heavily. “Rori, can I ask you to race up to the house and call the vet?”

“What’s wrong?”

“My sister’s horse is having some trouble.” He kept his voice calm and authoritative, letting the mare know he was confident and in charge of her. That was the best way to comfort the frightened creature. “The number’s on the wall above the kitchen phone. Tell Nate it’s Wildflower and he needs to get over here pronto. Oh, and fetch my dad, too.”

“You got it.” She wheeled the red horse around and with a touch of her heels, the gelding leaped into an all-out gallop. Head down, tail flying. It was good to see the old gelding still had his racing legs.

Wildflower blew out her breath to get his attention. She watched him with unblinking liquid brown eyes, staring so hard it was as if she were trying to give him an important message. Good thing he spoke horse.

“I hear you, girl.” He rubbed her muzzle. “Let’s try to walk you. Are you game?”

She followed him into the aisle, head down, winded. First foals could be tough on a small mare. He and his dad had kept a close eye on her and they’d caught her trouble as early as they could, but she had a hard row ahead. He wished Cheyenne had been able to make it back home from vet school. He could really use her help right now. He didn’t want to be the one she blamed if things went wrong.

“Just keep it slow and steady, girl. I’m right here with you.” He and Wildflower had made it to the end of the aisle and carefully turned around before hooves drummed outside. Rori rode up, dismounting in a graceful sweep. She was a welcome sight, as hard as that was to admit. “Did you reach Nate?” he asked her.

“I heard him running to his truck before he hung up on me. He promised to break speed limits on the way over.” She patted Copper’s neck and led him into the end stall she’d used yesterday. “Your dad said he’s on his way, too.”

“You’re a lifesaver. Of all the mornings to forget my cell phone.”

“It’s hard to function properly before sunup.” She unbuckled the old bridle and gated the horse in. “She’s not looking so good. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“We’ll see. If she holds off until the vet gets here, then you are free and clear. But if not, I’ll need your help with the foaling.”

“Okay.” She reached over the rail to grab the empty water bucket from Copper’s stall. “I’ll fetch some water first, and then take over walking her if you want to get the stall ready.”

“I’ll take you up on that. Here.” He ambled close and stole the bucket from her grip.

This close, she could smell the hay on his T-shirt and the soap from his morning shower. Without a hat, his dark hair stood up on end, still shower damp, and his lean cheeks were freshly shaven, showing off the deep groves bracketing both sides of his mouth, groves that transformed into dimples when he grinned but now they were grim set lines.

“Thanks ahead of time.” He put distance between them. “It’s good to have you here after all.”

“Oh, you say that as if it had been a huge question? I thought we settled that.”

“I know. I might not have been fully truthful yesterday. What I want to feel and what I admit to feeling are two different things.” He handed over Wildflower’s lead. “This is the truth. When I saw you ride through that door, I knew I could count on you.”

“Back at you.” She clucked to the mare, encouraging her forward. “The vet is going to be here in a bit. Your dad is coming. She’s going to be just fine.”

“As long as we can get that foal turned first, she will be.” Grim, determined, he hiked to the nearby sink. The walled-off room hid him from her sight, but nothing could diminish his steady, capable iron will and his endless decency.

It was heartening to know some things didn’t change. That for all the prickly layers and cool granite Justin had become, he was still underneath the cowboy she’d always admired. His heart wasn’t switched off completely, after all. She may as well face the fact that she would probably always be just a little bit in love with him.

She cooed soothingly to the struggling mare as they took slow painful steps down the aisle.