Читать книгу Her Cowboy Reunion - Ruth Herne Logan - Страница 13

Chapter Two

“Sean did something your father never seemed to understand,” Corrie said softly as she and Lizzie approached the stablemaster’s quarters after a quick lunch. She indicated the sprawling ranch around her and the pristine buildings, a trait for classic perfection that came straight from Lizzie’s grandfather. “He worked hard and made his own success.”

In sheep...and now horses. Only he was gone too soon.

Lizzie found the whole thing pretty unbelievable, even though she was a huge fan of great woolens made by pricey designers. Or had been, when she’d had money for such things.

“Liz.”

Oh, be still her heart, hearing Heath’s voice call her name. She’d hoped for that long ago. Prayed for it. It had never happened, but for one swift moment she longed to turn and run to him, like she’d done long ago.

She didn’t.

She tucked the momentary surprise away. She stopped moving to let him catch up, but then another cowboy came their way on horseback. He drew up, dismounted and gestured toward the western hills.

A deep furrow formed between Heath’s thick, dark brows.

A long time ago she would have smoothed those furrows away. Not now. She’d learned a hard lesson back then, but one she carried with her still. Strength and independence had become her mainstay and they had gotten her this far.

He turned back toward the long drive, then whistled lightly through his teeth. She used to call that his pressure cooker release valve, when they were young and in love. But that was a long time ago, too.

“If you’ve got work, Heath, we can find our way around,” she told him. “We’ll take our own personal tour of the place.”

He went all Clint Eastwood on her. He didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t roll his shoulders the way John Wayne would have. But then, she wasn’t exactly Maureen O’Hara, either.

Then his expression darkened. “There’s a problem up top.” He pointed toward a far-off pasture dotted with hundreds of recently sheared sheep. “Some folks hiked in and thought they’d set up camp. Campers mean campfires, and if you’re green to these parts, you don’t always understand the dangers. And even though it’s still spring, we don’t encourage people to camp on the ranch. I’m going to head up and explain where the campgrounds are.”

“He didn’t tell them to move on?” Lizzie motioned toward the cowboy moving toward the barn.

“Jace did. They called him names and didn’t believe he had the authority to evict them.”

“Called him names?” Lizzie stared after the retreating cowboy before bringing her attention back to Heath. “I don’t—”

“Slurs,” said Corrie.

The older woman lifted her chin and Lizzie finally understood. The trespassers had spurned Jace because they doubted a black man had the authority to send them packing. “Someone called him out because he’s dark-skinned? That’s some crazy, foolish nerve right there. Want help moving them off?” She raised her gaze to Heath’s and stood firm. “Give me a horse. One of the ranch ponies. I’m ready to ride.”

“Whoa, girl.” Corrie put a hand on her arm. “I appreciate your willingness to stand up for truth, justice and the American way, but how about we unpack before you get yourself shot again?”

“Again?” Heath looked shocked.

“Grazed. No biggie. Part of the job, at least the one I had back then.”

“What kind of a job allows shooting at women?”

“I was overseeing the Mid-Central region, from Ohio to Indiana and all points south. A political story got too hot and I was with the investigative team when someone tried to scare them off. I got grazed by a bullet. It was long before the executive team decided that having a Fitzgerald on staff seemed imprudent while the company crashed and burned, taking a lot of people’s money with it. Bad press is bad press.”

“They fired you because of your father?” His brows drew together again. “Who does that kind of thing? If we all got fired because we had lousy parents, there would be a lot of us out of a job. Including me.”

“Publishing is different now,” said Corrie as Jace led a second mount out of the nearby barn. “It’s not like it was when I started with the Fitzgeralds and I don’t know that it will ever be that way again. There’s not a newspaper or news media corporation that can afford to risk their image for the dwindling advertising dollars.”

“I understand taking care of the bottom line. That doesn’t make it right to punish someone for their parents’ mistakes.”

“Lots of things in life aren’t fair,” said Lizzie as the other cowboy mounted his horse and came their way. “We cling to our faith and hold tight to the reins.”

“And trust the good Lord to look after us, same as always,” added Corrie.

“Jace, this is a family friend. Cora Lee Satterly. And Sean’s niece, Elizabeth Fitzgerald.”

“A pleasure, ladies.” He looked toward Heath. “Are we good?”

Heath nodded. “Let’s go.” He tipped his hat slightly toward Corrie. Just a touch to the brim. “I’ll see you later. Make yourselves at home.”

He said nothing to Lizzie.

She refused to let it get to her.

She’d made mistakes. So had he. But faith and a solid work ethic had pulled her firmly into the present. She’d stayed the course, gotten her education, and now was at the helm of a teetering agricultural business worth a small fortune while he ran the large sheep ranch alongside.

A horse stamped its foot, wanting attention. Another one followed suit.

She walked to the barns, determined. She’d get to know the horses, then the finances, then the horses again. One way or another she’d do right by both.

* * *

Anger formed a burr deep in Heath’s chest and hadn’t let loose in the two hours it took for him and Jace Middleton to ride into the hills, ask the campers to leave, then keep watch while they did.

By the time they’d packed their camp and pulled away in a huff, he was hungry, tired, annoyed and sore. There was only one prescription to cure all of that.

His son.

“I’ll tend the horses.” Jace took charge once they rode into the yard. “You go get Zeke.”

“Thanks, Jace.” He texted Cookie, and when the cook replied that Rosina had picked up Zeke an hour before, he climbed into his Jeep and headed toward the clutch of four-room cabins between the sprawling sheep barns and the road. He pulled into Harve and Rosina Garcia’s driveway. Harve had been working sheep for Sean for nearly twenty years. He and his brother Aldo had emigrated from Peru to work the sheep through the customary annual hill drives. For the local Peruvian Americans, the drive was a part of life, a tradition dating back to earlier times. Government grazing restrictions had changed things, which meant Pine Ridge had to change, too. And at no small expense, adding to current concerns.

Zeke had spotted his car from their backyard and raced his way before he came to a full stop. “Dad!”

The old knot loosened the moment Zeke jumped into his arms.

This was his reason for living, right here. This boy was his only connection to his beloved wife. And while he loved his son more than he could have ever imagined, if he’d known that Anna would be trading her life for Zeke’s, Heath would have found a different way to have a family. As he held his beautiful and precocious son in his arms, that thought made him feel like a lesser man.

“Junior taught me the coolest things you’ve ever seen in your life!” Excitement exploded from the boy like fireworks in a night sky. “He thinks I might be the best cowboy to ever ride the Wild Wild West someday, but he says I gotta get some boots, Dad, and I told him I’ve been askin’ for boots for a long, long time.” Two hands smooshed Heath’s cheeks as Zeke leaned closer. “I told him I would ask you again, because it is so very, very important.” He pushed his face right up to his father’s, making his voice sound squished and slightly robotic. “Can I please have a pair of real cowboy boots like you and Harve and Junior and everybody else in the world?”

Heath let his voice get all squishy, too. “I’ll think about it. Good boots are pricey, and your feet grow fast. In case you hadn’t noticed.” He deadpanned a look that made his little boy laugh out loud. “Let’s see if you were good for Rosie, okay?”

“He’s always good!” Harve’s wife bustled out of the door, despite the bulk of a nearly nine-month pregnancy. “And he is such a help to me, Heath. I don’t bend so well right now, and Zeke is right there to get things for me when the twins need something. And a true hand with the chickens and the pigs.” She beamed down at him.

“They smell.” Zeke screwed up his face as Harve Junior joined them. “But Junior says if I want to be a cowboy, I’ve got to be a good helper and not worry about a little stink now and then.”

“Junior’s right. And he’s a good hand on the ranch, so he knows what he’s talking about.”

“A good hand who needs to spend more time with his studies.” Rosie leveled a firm look to her son. “Fewer sheep, more facts.”

“A ranch hand doesn’t need college, Mom.”

“While that’s true, a well-rounded ranch hand never stops learning,” offered Heath mildly. “There’s a big world out there, Junior.”

“It’s pretty big right here, sir.” Frank admiration marked the teen’s gaze as he indicated the lush valley and the starker cliffs surrounding it. “There’s not too many things on the ranch I can’t fix, things I learned from my dad. Those are skills I can take with me wherever I go. Or if I stay here in Shepherd’s Crossing.” He jutted his chin toward the rugged mountains climbing high to the west. “I like taking sheep upland, then bringing them back down. There’s a sameness to it that suits me.”

Except they wouldn’t be doing that anymore, and the new grazing regulations were changing the face of ranching across the West. Where would that leave the hardworking shepherds who’d given up their lives in Peru to work at Pine Ridge and other sheep farms? Heath wasn’t sure.

“I send you to school for that very reason,” scolded Rosie lightly. “Because it is too easy for one to become entrenched in sameness. A rich mind entertains possibilities. And our town does not have much to offer these days,” she reminded young Harve. “A failing community offers few opportunities to youth. A wise mother encourages her child to have roots but to also grow wings, my son.”

“Dad!” Zeke drew the attention off Junior with that single word. “I think I’m almost big enough to come with you and the sheep up the tallest hills. I’m this many.” He held up five little fingers. “And I’ve been practicing my riding on the fence rail over there.” He pointed to the split rail fencing along a nearby pasture. “I’m getting really good!”

“Not yet, son.” When Zeke scowled, Heath lifted him higher in his arms. “And that face won’t get you anywhere. You need to be bigger to handle the sheep and the dogs and the horses. That’s all there is to it. It will all happen in its own time.”

He ignored Zeke’s pout as he set the boy down and hooked a thumb toward the Jeep. “Car. Seat belt. Let’s roll.”

“Okay! Bye, Rosie-Posie!” The boy hugged Rosina but not too hard. “I can’t wait to see the baby!”

“It is a feeling I share,” Rosie assured him, laughing. “I’ll see you next week, God willing. And after that?” She shrugged lightly. “Who knows?”

“I’ll bring my dinosaurs!”

“And we’ll create a habitat for them, a perfect spot for them to roam, beneath the old cottonwood tree.”

“Okay!”

Zeke scrambled into his booster seat, adjusted his belt, then got down to the important matters of the day. “What’s for supper?”

“Whatever Cookie came up with, but I thought I smelled beef and potatoes cooking.”

“Stew?” Eyes wide, the boy wriggled in excitement. “I love stew, Dad! And cake. And ice cream. And sometimes hot dogs.”

“A well-balanced diet is a boy’s best friend,” Heath teased as he drew closer to the main house again.

“And I get to have supper with our new company!” Zeke aimed a heart-melting grin at him through the rearview mirror. “That will be the most fun of all!”

From the boy’s vantage point, maybe. Heath held a different view, but that was his problem. Not Zeke’s.

“You sure do.” He pulled the car around to the back parking area, and climbed out. He was just about to remind Zeke about the basic rules of behavior around women...simple things, like wiping your face, washing your hands, no barreling through the house like a young elephant, and flushing the toilet, thank you very much...

But Zeke had spotted Lizzie coming their way across the square of grass. He raced toward her like a flash. “Hey! Hey!” He skidded to a stop along the dirt walk, spattering her jeans with fine brown dust. “Oops. Sorry!”

“I’ve been dirty before. I expect it will happen again, my friend.”

That voice. The drawl. Softened by years of education, but still enough to draw a man in, which meant he’d have to watch his step because the drawl and the beautiful woman were far too familiar.

She’d bent to talk to Zeke at his level, then looked up at Heath, smiling.

The smile gut-punched him. Was that his fault? Or hers?

She turned those rusty brown eyes on him and all he wanted was to go on listening as she spoke. Meet her gaze above that pretty smile. Since those were the last things he could do, he put the trip down memory lane on hold.

The kitchen gong sounded, the perfect segue into something else. Anything else. Anything that didn’t remind him of old losses and broken hearts. He’d made a grievous mistake by taking things too far. Yes, they’d been young. And in love.

But he should have known better.

“There’s my young helper.” Cookie grinned when they walked into the kitchen, and the hulking Latino’s face lit up a room when he smiled. “Where you been, little fellow? Usually you’re in here, pestering me for cookies we don’t mention to your father when it gets this close to supper time.”

“He is a bottomless pit these days,” Heath acknowledged. “And you’re mighty good to him, Cookie.”

“We’re good to each other,” the cook teased. Then he spotted Lizzie coming through the door and his grin widened. “And this young woman might have come to help with horses, but she brought reinforcements which only endears her to me more.” His grin indicated Lizzie had won his heart as well. “A man can deal with a whole lotta crazy on a spread like this, but some extra help in the kitchen is appreciated. And Miz Corrie mentioned something about Kentucky ribs that made me even happier,” Cookie added. “We’re gonna try those right soon.”

“The best way to survive on a ranch is by being nice to the cook.” Lizzie gave Cookie one of those utterly sincere smiles she’d practiced on Heath years before, but this time he noticed a difference in the smile. It was older. Wiser. Not jaded, and that was a surprise. But he’d be blind not to see the touch of sadness in her gaze, which made him wonder what had put it there.

She turned toward Cookie. “Do you mind if I take a plate out back? I don’t want to offend, but I want to study some things while I eat.”

“We like ambition in these parts,” the cook assured her. “Miz Corrie told me the same thing. And don’t you be worrying about cooking for yourself in those empty rooms.” He pointed a fork toward the premier horse stables. “You grab food here as needed. It don’t much matter where you lay your head, the food bag’s on for all.”

“Thank you.” Sincerity marked her voice and her gaze. “Corrie and I will appreciate that a lot. I’ll go get her now.” She went up the front stairs just before Jace and four other hungry stockmen strode in.

“Hey, guys!” Zeke high-fived each one, walking down the row of men with a mighty cute swagger.

“You goin’ to the front of the line, little man?” asked Ben, one of the older hands. “No one here minds if you do.”

“Naw.” Zeke faced him, chin up. “Front of the line’s for workers. My dad told me that.”

“Your dad’s a good man. I respect that.” Ben shifted his attention to Heath. “You know I’ll take your place and guide that last group into the northwest hills. I’ve got enough gumption in me yet.”

One of the younger cowboys snort-laughed, making them all grin, but Heath focused on the older man. “It’s not that you can’t do it, Ben. It’s that I should.”

“Ain’t no law sayin’ that, Heath,” Ben reminded him. “Things changed back in March.”

March was when they’d scattered the ashes of Sean Fitzgerald across the land he’d nurtured and loved for over three decades.

“And you should be here, keeping watch. There’s a lot at stake with that next clutch of sheep ready to drop. We’ve got to pick our battles. If we need to divide and conquer when the odds are against us, then that’s what we do.”

Heath started to reply as Corrie and Lizzie came down the stairs. He paused because the sight of two women in the main house lassoed the men’s collective attention, and Heath was pretty sure they wouldn’t hear a word he said until the shock wore off. “Guys, this is Sean’s niece, Elizabeth Fitzgerald. She’s here to take over the equine operation.”

Two of the men looked from him to Lizzie and back, surprised. Jace gave a nod of approval, Wick snapped his fingers the way old guys do, and Ben Fister moved forward. “You’ve got the look of your uncle about you, lass.”

His term inspired Lizzie’s smile. “My grandfather called me that. My mother’s father,” she added. “Not the Fitzgerald side.”

Heath knew that firsthand.

Ian Fitzgerald had never been good with children. He’d expected blue-ribbon equestrianship and top-notch grades from the girls. Other than that, the man had barely acknowledged his granddaughters during Heath’s years at Claremorris. He hadn’t thought much of it then. The older man was bent on building an empire, and did just that, and Heath had been a little awestruck by him.

Now Heath was a father. He saw things differently, which might be why the current state of the ranch hit him hard. He wanted Pine Ridge to succeed, and he appreciated Sean’s bequest, but everything had changed at the worst possible time... Could he be the father he needed to be and keep the ranch in the black when they were short on help?

“I knew Ralph Crawford, back in the day.” Appreciation marked Ben’s voice. “Before Sean moved north. He was a good man that never let the thought of money go to his head. A rare breed. Sean might have gotten his business savvy from Ian but his heart was all Crawford.”

“Not a bad combination,” said Corrie, and Heath put a hand on her shoulder.

“And this is a family friend, Cora Lee Satterly.”

“I’m Wick.” The man leaned forward and shook hands with both women. “Wick Williams, that is. I knowed Sean from the get-go, when he just got here and put money down on a chunk of land before anyone thought too much of it. He done all right for himself in these hills, ladies. I hope you will, too. And I’d like to say I’m sorry for your loss even though not much was said back and forth through the years.”

“To have built up such an amazing business with sheep is surprising, isn’t it?” Corrie asked. “It seems Sean was in the right place at the right time and everything fell into place.”

“Well, it weren’t sheep that built his fortune, but he liked to say that shepherding was good for the soul,” Ben told her.

“If not sheep, then what?” Lizzie asked the question of Heath, but Ben answered.

“Technology stocks. Investments. Sean got in on Silicon Valley’s ground floor back when everything we take for granted today seemed like science fiction. When Ralph passed away, Sean invested his inheritance. So the ranch was built on a foundation of stock options. Not stock. But the stock’s been paying the way for a good fifteen years now. Until—” Ben shifted his gaze to the equine barns. “Which puts a lot on your plate, Lizzie Fitzgerald. Something tells me you’re not as cowed by the whole notion as I thought you’d be, and I can’t tell you what that does for this old heart. Welcome to Pine Ridge. It’ll be mighty nice to have a couple of fine women on the ranch,” he added. “We’ve been mostly men until now, so you’re a welcome addition.”

“And when her sisters arrive, we’ll be four women strong,” said Corrie. “Although Charlotte and Melonie aren’t as ranch-savvy as our Lizzie. But they’re coming to help in whatever way they can.”

Not because they wanted to. Heath knew that. They needed the ranch, or at least their financial share, as much as the ranch needed hands-on help right now. Sean’s will had opened a window of opportunity when their father had shoveled millions of corporate dollars into offshore accounts, leaving the three girls broke and in debt.

Pine Ridge would be co-owned by the four of them. Heath, Lizzie, Melonie and Charlotte, as long as the women put in a year working on the ranch. Sean had done it because he’d felt sorry for the massive change in their finances caused by their father’s actions. But with the large outlay of cash for the equine start-up and the loss of government grazing lands, their solid financial foundation had been temporarily downgraded. If they blew it right now, the only option would be liquidation. And selling everything off would mean he’d failed his friend and mentor. That meant he couldn’t fail.

“Four women in the house?” Ben scratched the back of his head, grinning. “That will be a change in these parts.”

Unless they all ran screaming when they realized the hills of Idaho weren’t exactly the lap of luxury they’d become accustomed to, thought Heath.

He glanced at Lizzie.

She was watching him. Studying his reactions. Reading him, and not looking all that impressed with what she saw.

“Dad! Isn’t this like the best surprise ever?” Zeke grinned up at Lizzie, then Corrie. “And Miss Corrie says she knows how to make real good stuff and that maybe she can teach me like she did for Miss Lizzie, if she doesn’t get in Cookie’s way.”

“I’ll make way for cooking lessons,” said the cook with a grin. “I might learn a thing or two myself, having a genteel Southern woman in the kitchen.”

It wasn’t the best surprise, but it was also out of Heath’s hands. Ben saved him by addressing Zeke’s comment. “It’s a grand surprise, all right, and real nice to have family here. Brad,” he said to one of the younger ranch hands, “are you going to fill your plate so the line moves along? You’ve got some hungry folks waitin’.”

“Ladies first.” The young cowboy indicated the food dishes. “My mama wouldn’t take kindly to me going ahead of ladies.”

“That’s a kindness, for certain, and one I’m willing to accept.” Corrie moved forward. “Thank you, Brad.”

Lizzie followed her.

The men took their plates outdoors. Heath was tempted to follow them, but Zeke had other ideas. “Can we eat in here, Dad? With Lizzie and her friend?”

“Miss Lizzie. And Miss Corrie.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes, but didn’t correct him. His son. His rules. And manners mattered. Sean Fitzgerald might have worked a roughed-up patch of old farmland into a celebrated ranch, but he’d always expected manners from everyone. Heath followed his example.

“We were going to eat in the stable office,” Lizzie began, but when Zeke’s mouth downturned, she moved toward the big table. “But I’d like to get to know you better, too, and supper is the best time for that. Don’t you think?” She sat down and smiled his way.

She’d taken the seat Zeke usually used.

The boy didn’t fuss. He sat down to her right as Heath took the seat at the foot of the table. Corrie sat to his left, opposite Lizzie.

And then Zeke reached for Lizzie’s hand for grace. She gripped his little hand while Corrie reached out for his right hand. That left him and Lizzie unlinked.

He was absolutely, positively not going to hold Lizzie’s hand.

Lizzie seemed just as reluctant, and the only thing that saved them from a full-blown standoff was his beautiful boy. Zeke squeezed Lizzie’s hand and tipped that sweet face up to her. “You’ve got to hold Dad’s hand, okay? Just while we pray,” he added, as if assuring her that she could let go soon. “Like for a minute. All right?” He gazed up for affirmation, looking not only hard but impossible to resist.

Lizzie raised her hand slightly.

He raised his, just as slowly.

And then their fingers touched.

She didn’t look at him.

He didn’t look at her.

But his hand wrapped around hers like it had all those years ago, feeling both right and wrong. Maybe more right than wrong, and that took him by surprise.

It might have been the quickest grace he’d ever said. Anna would have scolded him. She’d believed that taking a few minutes to thank the Lord wasn’t something to be rushed, but savored.

Not tonight.

Not with Lizzie’s soft, long, slim fingers tucked in his, churning up memories he’d tried so hard to forget. Tried—and failed. Because all it took was the touch of her hand and that warm, sweet smile to bring it roaring back to life once more.