The Rancher's Promise

“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.

Chapter Four

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.