Читать книгу Wedding Bells at Wandering Creek - Patricia Thayer - Страница 10

CHAPTER THREE

Оглавление

WILLOW HATED THE FACT that Jack could handle a horse so well. But no doubt the man was good at a lot of things.

“You never told me how a city kid ended up on a ranch,” she asked.

He gave her a sideways glance, and mostly kept his eye on what he was doing as they rode along the trail. “I thought we weren’t going to get personal.”

“I didn’t know asking you how you learned to ride was all that personal,” she said.

“Truth is, I’d gotten into some trouble in my youth. I was running around with some wild kids and we got caught shoplifting. I was offered camp for the summer.”

She raised an eyebrow. “So you were a budding juvenile delinquent.”

“You could say that. My mother was ready to give up on me.”

“What about your father?”

“Wasn’t in the picture…hadn’t been for a long time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not a big deal. I survived just fine.”

Willow wondered about that. She’d always taken her caring parents for granted. She also knew how much she missed her father now. How could a young boy cope with that kind of void in his life?

“Seems to me a child needs both parents,” she said.

His expression was stony. “Not all of us had a fairy-tale life.”

Her back straightened. “I really get tired of hearing that. You know appearances can be deceiving.” She kicked Dakota’s sides and shot off in a run. She needed time alone, time not filled with another man judging her.

Jack wanted to ride after her, but he’d never catch up, nor would she be happy if he tried. They both had probed a little too deep. He usually didn’t talk about his past. It was nobody’s business. He couldn’t change it, so no use crying about it. That was what Mike always told him when he’d start feeling sorry for himself. He missed his partner’s wisdom, their talks.

Jack watched Willow as she circled the meadow, letting Dakota run at will. No doubt she could handle the large stallion. He liked that about her. Her strength. She would use it to defend her family, too.

He suspected Dean hadn’t inherited the same trait. Was he guilty of a crime? Why would Matt Kingsley’s son have to steal? The family had to be loaded, or was it just a game to the computer wizard?

“If that’s so, Dean, old boy, your family will be the ones who get hurt,” he murmured.

Willow’s yellow hair fanned out as she leaned low over the horse’s neck. The stallion picked up speed as it and its rider did one more pass, then finally slowed and trotted up next to him.

“That was quite a show,” he said.

She patted the horse’s sweaty neck and tried to catch her breath. “Dakota loves to run. Even at eighteen he hasn’t slowed down.”

They walked together for a minute. Jack glanced around the seemingly endless acres of green meadow, skirted by the mountain range and he shifted in the saddle. Cisco made him look good, and responded readily to the slightest command. “This is quite a backyard you have here.”

Willow sighed. “I know. It’s perfect. And developers think so, too.”

“I expect the land is pretty valuable.”

“Well, seven hundred acres is probably too much for just Mom and me.”

The horses moved with a slow, easy rhythm. “But not with the kid’s camp.”

She shrugged. “It’s only open a few weeks out of the summer. I suppose we should be doing much more than just that, but…”

“What about running cattle?”

“We used to have a small herd at one time. Back when Dad filmed westerns here.” She pointed off toward the mountains. “In fact, the movie set still exists out there.”

“You’re kidding. You actually have your own western town with a jail and a saloon?”

“And a one-room school house and a church.” Her smile faded. “Then when my father got sick, he couldn’t work…. So he concentrated on the camp.”

“That has to be an expensive undertaking.”

“Yes, but Dad was good at getting financial sponsors.”

“Enough to keep it going now?”

She shot him a sideways glance. “I don’t like where this is leading.”

“It’s not leading anywhere. It’s just conversation.”

She didn’t seem to accept his explanation. “Are you accusing my brother of stealing—”

He raised a hand. “I’m not accusing him of anything. I was just curious as to how you keep the camp going?”

“For one thing, the ranch is ours free and clear. And Mother and I work hard to get funding to reopen the camp.”

“Sounds like a big undertaking.”

“But well worth it.” She seemed to relax and smile. Jack had trouble concentrating on business. Willow nodded toward Cisco.

“How are you feeling? Tired?”

Every one of Jack’s muscles ached but he wasn’t about to share that with her. “Not bad.”

“Good.” She looked ahead toward a group of trees. “I have something to show you if you can keep up.”

He caught a glimmer of humor in her eyes. “Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe,” she called as she kicked Dakota into a run.

When Jack spurred Cisco, the horse responded and took off after her.

With Willow in the lead, they made it to the edge of what looked exactly like the main street of an old western town.

“Welcome to Liberty.” Willow climbed down from Dakota and walked the animal to the hitching post, then went to the side of the building, turned on a spigot and water came out the end of the hose. She dragged it out to the street and began to fill a nearby trough.

Jack swung his leg over Cisco’s back, feeling every muscle in his body cry for mercy.

“You still okay?” Willow asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He looked around. He’d never been much of a movie buff, but even he remembered the famous television miniseries about an older sheriff hired to tame a lawless town. Of course, it had starred Matt Kingsley.

Willow brought the hose to her lips and took a long drink, then handed it to Jack. “Drink up. It’s spring water.”

“None of that fancy bottled water for you, huh?”

She smiled again. “Nothing tastes better than this.”

He drank deep. She was right. “Very good.”

They left the horses at the trough and headed down the main street. “I feel like I should be wearing a gun and spurs.” He tilted his hat back and looked at the two story weathered structures. “Are the buildings finished inside, too?”

Wedding Bells at Wandering Creek

Подняться наверх