The Rancher's Return

“There’s a story?” Adam asked, his voice pipingly eager.

Carter looked away. Being around this boy grew harder each second in his presence. Harry had never heard the story about his Nana’s bracelet. The story was part of Harry’s legacy and history, and now this little boy, a complete stranger to him, would be hearing it.

“Adam, honey, we should go,” Emma said quietly, as if she sensed Carter’s pain.

“I want to hear the story,” Adam said.

“Stay a moment,” Nana Beck urged. “Have some tea.”

“No … I don’t think …” Emma protested.

“That’s silly. Carter, why don’t you get Emma a mug, and please bring back a juice box and a bag of gummy snacks for Adam. They’re in the cupboard beside the mugs.”

Carter gladly made his escape. Once in the kitchen, he rested his clenched hands on the counter, feeling an ache in the cold place in the center of his chest where his heart lay. He drew in a long, steadying breath. This was too hard. Every time Adam spoke, it was a vivid reminder of his own son.

Carter closed his eyes and made himself relax. He had seen boys the age of his son’s before.

Just not on the ranch where …

Carter slammed his hands on the counter, then pushed himself straight. He had to get past this. He had to move on.

And how was that supposed to happen as long as he still owned the ranch, a visible reminder of what he had lost?

Chapter Two

“… So August Beck looked across the river and into the eyes of a lovely Kootenai native named Kamiskahk,” Nana was saying, telling Emma and Adam the story of the nuggets when Carter returned to the veranda.

Nana Beck shot Carter a quick glance as he set the mug down, poured Emma a cup of tea and gave Adam the juice box and gummies he’d found in Nana’s “treat cupboard.”

“Thank you, Mr. Carter,” Adam said, but the little boy’s attention quickly shifted back to Nana.

Emma sat on the floor of the veranda, her back against the pillar, her dark hair pushed away from her face looking at ease.

“Sit down here,” he said, setting the chair by her.

She held up her hand, but Carter moved the chair closer and then walked over to the railing beside his grandmother and settled himself on it, listening to the story as familiar to him as his grandmother’s face.

“As August courted Kamiskahk, he discovered she had a pouch of gold nuggets that she’d gotten from her father,” Nana continued, her eyes bright, warming to the story she loved to tell. “Kamiskahk’s father had sworn her to secrecy, telling her that if others found out there was gold in the valley, they would take it over and things would not be good for their people.”

“Why not?” Adam carefully opened the pouch of gummies and popped one in his mouth, his eyes wide.

“Because Kamiskahk’s father knew how people could be seized by gold fever. So Kamiskahk kept her word, and never told anyone about the gold … except for August. And August was soon filled with gold fever. He left Kamiskahk and went looking. For months he searched, dug and panned, never finding even a trace of the gold. Then, one day, exhausted, cold, hungry and lonely, hunched over a gold pan in an icy creek, he thought of Kamiskahk and the love she held for him. He felt ashamed that he had walked away from her. August put away his shovel and his gold pan and returned to Kamiskahk’s village, humbly asking her to take him back. She did, and he never asked about where the nuggets came from again.”

While Nana spoke, a gentle smile slipped across Emma’s face, and she leaned forward, as if to catch the story better.

Then her eyes slid from Nana to Carter. For a moment their gazes held. Her smile faded away, and he saw the humor in her brown eyes change to sympathy.

He didn’t want her to feel sorry for him. He wanted to see her smile again.

“August Beck never did find out where the gold came from. What had become more important was the love August Beck learned to value over gold. He and Kamiskahk settled in this valley and had a son, Able Beck, who got the ranch and the nuggets. Able had a son named Bill Beck. My husband.” Nana sat back, a satisfied smile wrinkling her lined cheeks. “I loved the story so much that Bill, my late husband, had the nuggets made into a bracelet for me.”

“That’s a wonderful story.” Emma’s voice was quiet, and her gaze slipped to the necklace lying on the Bible. “Is that made from the bracelet?”

Nana Beck picked up the necklace, threading the gold chain through her fingers. “Yes. It is.” Her eyes shifted to Carter. “I wanted to give each of my grandchildren a part of that bracelet as a reminder of their heritage.”

Emma cleared her throat and set her mug on the table between her and Nana Beck. “Thanks for the tea, but we should go. I promised Miranda I would help her with some sewing.”

“Can I stay here, Mom?” Adam asked. “I don’t want to sew.”

Emma knelt down and cupped his chin in her hand. “I know you don’t, but Mr. Carter hasn’t seen his nana for a long time, and I’m sure they want to visit alone.”

Adam heaved a sigh, and then with a toss of his head he got up. “Bye, Nana Beck,” he muttered, picking up his juice box and gummies. He was about to go when Emma nudged him again.

“Thanks for the treats,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” Nana said with an indulgent smile.

As they walked away, Adam gave Carter a wave. Then he followed his mother toward Wade and Miranda’s house. Carter’s old house.

Carter drew his attention back to his grandmother, who watched him with an indulgent smile. “She’s a nice girl, isn’t she?” Nana said. “And pretty.”

Carter gave his grandmother a smile. “You’re not very subtle, Nana.”

She waved off his objections. “I’m too old to be subtle. I just had a heart attack. I’ve got things on my mind. And even though I haven’t seen much of you, I know you’re not happy.”

Carter said nothing to that.

Nana Beck sat back in her chair with a sigh. “I’ve had a chance to see things differently. That’s why I wanted to give you these presents now. In the future, if I’m not here, the nuggets will be a reminder of where you’ve come from. And the Bible will be a reminder of where you should be going.”

Carter got up and set the gold nugget carefully back in the box. “So what am I supposed to do with this?”

“I want you to give it to someone important in your life,” his nana said. “Someone who you care deeply about. Someone who is more important than the treasure in this world.”

“Thanks for this, Nana. It’s a precious keepsake.” He snapped the velvet lid shut, then he carefully placed the box on the Bible. “But I don’t think I’ll be giving it to anyone.”

“You never know what life will bring you, Carter, or where God will lead you in the future,” Nana said, a quiet note of admonition in her voice.

“Well, I don’t like where God has brought me so far,” Carter said, looking down at the Bible. “I’m not going to trust God for my future. I’ll make my own plans.”

He gave Nana a level look, wishing he didn’t feel a niggling sense of fear at his outspoken words.

Nana reached over and gently brushed a lock of hair back from his forehead. “Be careful what you say, Carter. I know God is still holding you in His hands.”

Carter said nothing to that.

“But I also have something else to tell you,” she said quietly, looking past him to the yard and the hills beyond. “I’m moving to town. Shannon has been looking for places for me in Hartley Creek.”

“You want to move off the ranch?” he asked, unsure he’d heard her correctly.

“Not really. But Shannon thinks I should be closer to the hospital, and unfortunately I agree.”

Carter sat back, absorbing this information. And as he did it was as if a huge weight had fallen off his shoulders. He’d never sell the ranch as long as it was Nana Beck’s home. But if she was leaving, then maybe he could too. And with the ranch sold, perhaps he could leave all the painful memories of the past behind.

“So why’re you shoeing horses instead of getting Greg Beattie to do your farrier work?” Carter leaned against the sun-warmed wood of the barn, watching his foreman and old friend trimming hooves. Yesterday he had spent most of his day catching up with his grandmother and visiting with his cousin Shannon. It wasn’t until today that he had an opportunity to connect with Wade.

Wade pushed his glasses up his nose and then grunted as he grabbed a pair of large clippers. “I like the challenge. And Greg’s been getting busier and harder to book. Lots of new acreages, and all the owners have horses.” Wade made quick work of clipping the horse’s hoof then let the foot down and stretched his back.

Carter swatted a fly and let his eyes drift over the yard. From here he saw everything.

Including the corral where Emma worked with a pair of horses; her son perched on the top rail of the corral fence. Part of him wanted to look away. The ranch held too many painful memories, but the corral held the harshest one of all.

His son, lying lifeless on the ground after Wade had pulled him out of the open stock tank that served as a horse waterer. When she was pregnant, Sylvia had urged him to get rid of the large tank, saying it was too dangerous. Carter had dismissed her worries with a kiss. He and his brother and cousins had grown up with that tank. On hot days they had sat in it, cooling off in the waist-high water.

He should have …

Carter pushed the memory and guilt away, pain hard on their heels.

“This Emma girl,” Carter said, “why did you hire her?”

“I told you I needed to hire another hand to replace that useless character we had before.” Wade picked up the horse’s hoof again and began working at it with a rasp, getting it ready for a shoe.

“I assumed you were going to hire a guy.”

“She had the best qualifications.” Wade shrugged. “I hope that’s not a problem.”

Carter looked over at the corral again. Adam now sat on top of Banjo, and Emma led him around. He heard her voice, though he couldn’t make out what she said. Adam laughed and she patted his leg, grinning up at him.

She turned and looked his way, then abruptly turned around.

“It’s not a problem if she knows what she’s doing,” Carter said, turning his attention back to Wade.

“She’s good. Really good. Has a great connection with horses, and some unique ideas about pasture management.” Wade tapped the horse’s hoof. He dropped it again and grabbed a horseshoe from the anvil.

“So what’s her story?” Carter asked while Wade nailed down the shoe. “Why would she want to work here?”

“She used to work her daddy’s ranch till he gambled it away. Says she loves ranch work, and it shows. She’s been a better hand than the guy I had for two weeks before I hired her.” He tapped in another nail. “She wants to talk to you about subdividing an acreage off the river property. Says she wants to settle down here.”

“Really?” So that’s what her son was talking about when he said they had to ask him about the acreage.

“Don’t sound so surprised. Some of us love it here,” Wade grunted as he tapped in another nail. Then he looked up, a horrified expression on his face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I know why you’ve stayed away. Of course being here is hard, and I get that—”

“Can she afford to buy the acreage?” Carter asked, cutting off his friend’s apology. He felt rude, but he knew where Wade was headed.

The same place he’d been going for the past year in any of their conversations and communications. The ranch was Carter’s home. It was time to come back. To get over what happened.

Trouble was it wasn’t so simple. It was difficult enough dealing with the “if onlys” when he was away from the ranch. If only he hadn’t gone out on that gather. If only he’d stayed home instead of hiring that babysitter. If only he’d taken better care of his responsibilities, Harry wouldn’t have wandered out of the house and climbed on that corral fence. Wouldn’t have fallen—

“Depends what you want for it,” Wade was saying, breaking into the memories that Carter had kept stifled. “I know you’ve never been eager to have anyone else living in the valley, but hey, she’s single, attractive, and now that you’re back—”

“I’m not looking,” Carter said, cutting that suggestion off midstream. “And I’m sure there’s enough other guys who would be interested in Miss Minton.”

Wade shrugged as he clipped off the ends of the nail protruding from the hoof wall. “Been enough of them trying to ask her out since she came here.”

“I’m not surprised.” Carter heard the squeal of the metal gate between the corrals and watched as Emma pulled the halters off the horses’ heads then coiled up the ropes.

He understood why the single men of Hartley Creek and area would be interested. She was pretty and spunky and had a girl-next-door appeal.

“She’s a great gal, but she’s turned them all down flat. I think she’s been burned too many times.”

Silence followed his comment. But it was the comfortable silence of old friends. Carter had missed that.

In the past two years Carter had worked as a ranch hand in Northern B.C., a wrangler for a stock contractor in Peace River and, recently, laying pipe for a pipeline in the Territories. That was where he had been when his grandmother had her heart attack.

He never stayed in one place long enough to create a connection or to build a sense of community. Which had suited him just fine.

But standing here, watching Wade work, not talking, just being, he found he missed this place he knew as well as he knew his own face.

Wade looked up at him, as if sensing his melancholy. “Did you miss the place? The work?”

Carter bit his lip, not sure what to say. “I missed parts of it. I missed seeing my family. Nana, the cousins. You and Miranda.”

“I missed you too, man,” Wade said. To Carter’s surprise, he saw the glint of moisture in his friend’s eyes.

The sight of Wade’s unexpected tears created an answering emotion that he fought to push down. Emotions took over, and he didn’t dare go down that road. Not alone, as he was now.

“I couldn’t come back, Wade. I couldn’t.”

“I know, but you’re here now.”

“You may as well know,” Carter said, taking a breath and plunging in, “I’m not coming back here to stay.”

Wade frowned, pushing his glasses up his nose. “What? Why not? I thought that was the reason you came back.”

“My Nana’s heart attack was the main reason I’m here.” Carter held his friend’s puzzled gaze and steeled himself to the hurt in Wade’s voice. “I can’t live here. I can’t come back. I’m going to sell the place. Sell the Rocking K.”

Chapter Three

Emma looked up from her Bible and glanced over at Adam, still sleeping in the bunk across the cabin from her. The morning sun slanted across the bed, a splash of gold.

What was she going to tell him?

Yesterday, after working with Banjo, she had come to get Elijah when Wade was done shoeing him. Then she overheard Carter’s determined voice say, “I’m going to sell the place.”

If Carter Beck was selling the ranch, would she still have a chance at getting the acreage? For that matter, would she still have a job? Would she and Adam have to move again?

Her questions had fluttered like crows through her mind while, on the other side of the barn, she heard Carter make his plans. He was going into town to list the property. Nana Beck was moving off the ranch. It was time.

Each word fell like an ax blow. She’d prayed so hard to be shown what to do. When she had left her father’s ranch, she had made two promises to herself, that she would trust in God to guide her life, and that Adam would always be her first priority when she made her plans.

Coming to Hartley Creek and the Rocking K Ranch fit so well with both. Here she had found work she loved, had found community and, yes, some type of family. Nana Beck had taken her and Adam in and Shannon, Carter’s cousin, had become a friend to her.

And Adam. Adam loved the ranch and everything about it. It was as if he blossomed here.

So what was God trying to teach her with this? Why had He brought everything together so well only to take it away?

Sorry, Lord, I don’t get what is going on right now, Emma thought, closing her Bible.

Adam stirred on his bed, stretched his arms out, then turned to her, his smile dimpling his still-chubby cheeks. His hair, a tangle of blond, stuck up in all directions. “Hi, Mommy. Is it morning? Is it time to get up yet?”

“That it is.” Emma smiled and set her Bible aside. She hadn’t slept well and had been awake since five o’clock. She’d been reading, praying, trying to find some guidance and direction for her life.

If nothing came of her plans for the acreage, then it was up to her to figure out her next move. She took another calming breath. Please, Lord, help me to trust in You alone, she prayed. Help me to know that my hope is in You.

Adam sat up and rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. Then he bounded out of the bed onto the floor, wide awake, ready to go. Emma envied him his energy, his ability to instantly wake up when his eyes opened.

“Am I still coming with you and Wade today?” he asked, pulling his pajama top off over his head. “When you go up to check the cows?”

“I think so. It won’t be a long ride.” Four days ago she and Wade had planned to take a trip to the upper pastures to check on the grass. Wade wanted to make sure they weren’t overgrazing, and she had promised Adam he could come along.

“Here, let me help you with that,” she said, handing him a clean T-shirt. “Once you’re changed, I want you to go wash your hands and face and get ready for breakfast.”

Adam tugged the brown T-shirt over his head and yanked on his blue jeans. “Can we have breakfast with Wade and Miranda? She is making pancakes and said I had to ask if we could eat there.”

“But I thought we could have breakfast here.” Though she knew plain toast couldn’t compete with Miranda’s chocolate chip pancakes, Emma treasured her alone time with Adam.

“Mom, please?” Adam drooped his shoulders, his hands clenched together in front of him, the picture of abject sorrow and pleading. “I love, love, love chocolate chip pancakes.”

Adam made the best puppy dog eyes of any child she had ever known.

“Okay. But don’t ask me tomorrow.”

Adam launched himself at her, giving her a huge hug. “I love you, Mommy,” he said, his voice muffled against her shirt.

The clutch of her son’s small arms around her waist sent a powerful wave of love washing over her. “I love you too, my little guy,” she murmured, brushing down his unruly hair with her hand. “Now let’s go brush your hair then see if Miranda and Wade are up yet.”

Once Adam was cleaned up, they headed out the door and down the wooden steps. According to Wade, they were staying in the cabin that Carter and his grandfather had built for Shannon, Carter’s oldest cousin, who lived in Hartley Creek and worked as a nurse.

When their mother died, Garret and Carter moved from the little house they had shared with Noelle Beck into the main house with their grandparents. But the town cousins, Hailey, Naomi and Shannon, came up almost every weekend and for most of the summer to stay at the ranch. Bill Beck, Carter’s grandfather, came up with the idea of building a cabin for each of the girls so they could have their own place to stay when they came.

Emma loved the story, and every time she walked up to the trio of cabins nestled against the pine trees, she tried to imagine five cousins spending time together, staying overnight in one of the cabins as a group, probably sharing stories. She felt a twinge of envy for what Carter had, and wondered again how he could simply walk away from all this.

Adam clung to her hand, swinging it as they walked. The sun shone overhead. A few wispy clouds trailed across the blue sky, promising another beautiful day.

“Good morning, Mr. Carter,” Adam called out.

Carter stood on the porch of the far cabin, leaning on the railing and nursing a cup of coffee. The fall of dark hair across his face and the whiskers shadowing his lean jaw made it look as if he had just woken up, as well.

Her heart skipped a little at the sight.

Then she caught herself. If she reacted to seeing him, it was because he held her future in his hands. Had nothing to do with his looks, because she wasn’t looking. Men were an unnecessary complication she had no desire to bring into her and Adam’s life.

“Good morning yourself,” Carter said, straightening.

“Did you hear the coyotes last night?” Adam asked. “I heard them, but I think they stayed away.”

Carter gave him a nod and then glanced at Emma. For a moment their eyes met and as before, something indefinable thrummed between them—an awareness that created both anticipation and discomfort.

“We’re going to have pancakes at Miranda’s place,” Adam announced. “Are you going to come too?”

Carter’s gaze broke away from hers, moving to Adam.

And in that moment Emma caught a look of deep sorrow in the blue of his eyes. His mouth tightened, and she wondered where his thoughts had gone.

“I don’t think so,” was all he said.

Emma glanced from him to Adam and then made a quick decision. “Honey, why don’t you go ahead. I’d like to talk to Mr. Carter.”

Thankfully, Adam just nodded. Then with another wave to Carter, he ran across the yard, his feet kicking up clouds of dust.

Emma looked up into Carter’s impassive face with its lean, almost harsh lines. She wished she felt more confident. More sure of herself. He didn’t know it, but this conversation would determine her future.

“Wade said that I should talk to you about an acreage I’m interested in.”

“I don’t own an acreage.” Carter frowned down at her, and Emma wished she had chosen a different time and place to discuss this with him. Looking up at him placed her at a disadvantage.

“No, you don’t, but there’s an old yard site on the ranch that you bought before. I know that it’s easier to subdivide a yard site than to create a raw acreage. So … I was wondering if you … if you would be willing to subdivide it off. I would be willing to pay the market price. I have some money left from my father’s ranch for a down payment. I’d have to move a trailer onto the yard—”

Stop. Now. You’re talking too fast, and you’re saying too much. Try to make some sense. Emma bit her lip and braided her fingers together, taking a breath.

“So would you be willing to subdivide it?” she asked.

Carter looked into his coffee cup as he swirled it. “Sorry, Miss Minton. But I’m putting the whole ranch up for sale.”

“I … I understand that. I mean, I heard that. But would you be willing to subdivide it before you sell the ranch?”

Carter shook his head. “I’ve already talked to a real estate agent. The place is listed. I’m sorry, I can’t do anything for you.”

“I see,” was all she managed, each word of his evaporating the faint wisp of hope she had nurtured.

The thought of making other plans was too much to comprehend. Finding this place had been a sheer stroke of luck and grace. Where else could she live and board her horses? Give Adam the easygoing country life she’d grown up with?

She looked up at Carter again, wondering what was going through his mind, wondering if he had told his family about his plans to sell. Nana Beck had told her the history of the place, how the family was so much a part of this ranch. She knew how much Nana and Shannon loved the ranch. How could he ignore all of that?

“What does Nana Beck think of your plans?”

As soon as she blurted out the words, she wished she could bite her tongue. It was none of her business. How many times did she have to remind herself of that?

“I apologize. That was uncalled for,” she said quietly. “It’s just this place …” She looked around, letting the utter peace that surrounded the property wash over her. “It’s so beautiful, and I know it’s been in your family a long time. That’s rare.” She thought of her father and how easily he had disregarded his legacy. How he had disregarded her when his life imploded. Why were men so casual with the blessings God had given them?