The Rancher's Return Page 4

  Pete sucked his breath through his teeth. “I doubt it. One of the things he liked the best about the property was that he had no close neighbors. But, hey, doesn’t hurt to ask.”

  “Just ask him and let me know.” Though he had told Emma he couldn’t do anything for her, he still felt he had to at least try. Then Carter said goodbye and tossed the cell phone on the bed as he glanced around the cabin. A poster of a ski hill took up one wall. Two snowboards leaned in one corner of the cabin, both cracked in half. Remnants of Hailey’s wilder days when there was no ski run too difficult, no boundary that she respected, no jump she couldn’t take.

  He knew the other cabins, built by Carter’s grandfather for each of his three girl cousins, would hold similar detritus of their lives. Another wave of second thoughts drifted in behind the memories.

  Could he sell all this? Could he walk away from the history these cabins and the ranch represented? How many pillow fights had taken place in this very cabin? How many times had he and Garret snuck out of the main house where they lived with their mother to play tricks on the girls sleeping here overnight?

  His eyes fell on the Bible his grandmother had given him. On top of that lay the box with the nugget. Two small things, but they carried the weight of history and expectations.

  He leaned his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands as he struggled with the memories and the responsibility. He had started working on the ranch when he was only ten years old, driving the bale wagon from the fields to the yard. Over time he graduated to the tractor, and then he started baling, as well.

  Together he and his grandfather had ridden miles of fence lines, Papa Bill passing on his wisdom, his knowledge and the history of the ranch.

  Regret twisted his gut. Sure he had bought the Rocking K from his grandfather, paying in sweat equity and bank loans, but the ranch was passed on to him. A ranch that had been in the family for four generations.

  Could he change his mind? Couldn’t he simply let things go on as usual? Would Wade be willing to carry on as a manager, or would he want to have his own place eventually?

  For a moment he wished he believed God heard prayers. Because that would be convenient. To ask God for some kind of guidance, some kind of sign.

  But his belief in God died two years ago when he watched that small coffin being lowered into the ground, taking his purpose in life with it.

  Carter pushed himself to his feet. The decision was made. It was time to move on. Pete had found him a buyer, and that was all the sign he needed. Now all he had to do was tell Wade.

  And Nana Beck.

  He pulled in a long breath and reminded himself this was the right thing to do. Then he left the cabin.

  The sound of laughter greeted him as he pushed open the door of Wade’s house.

  The first thing he saw was Adam sitting at the table, his cheeks smeared with syrup, forking a piece of pancake into his mouth. Just as his son used to.

  The glimmer from the past twisted, and any regrets he had about selling the farm seemed to disappear.

  Adam looked up when he came into the kitchen. “Are you going to have pancakes too, Mr. Carter?”

  Carter gave him a quick shake of his head, no.

  But Miranda was already setting an extra plate on the table. “Of course you’re going to join us,” Miranda was saying. “I’ll even get Emma to make a letter C for you.”

  Carter glanced over at the stove, where Emma was frying pancakes. Her hair was pulled away from her face, and as she flipped the pancake she glanced over at him.

  The sparkle in her eyes dimmed, and she glanced away.

  Not that he blamed her. He’d been less than diplomatic this morning, and he knew it. But her chitchat about Nana and history and how wonderful the ranch was twisted the guilt knife already lodged deep in his breast.

  “I’m not sticking around long,” he said. “How are you feeling today?” he asked. Yesterday, she had complained about a sore back, blaming it on her pregnancy.

  “A bit stiff, but that’s to be expected.”

  Carter put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly. “You make sure you take it easy,” he said.

  Miranda waved her hand at him. “Don’t fuss. I’m fine.”

  Carter gave her a gentle smile, then glanced over to catch Emma watching him. He turned away again. “I need to talk to Wade, by the way.”

  “He’s having a shower right now.” Miranda grabbed Carter by the arm and pulled him toward the table. “Sit down and eat. You’re practically drooling. Emma, give this man some fresh pancakes.”

  “You’ll really like them,” Adam assured him with a grin just as Emma dropped a couple of pancakes on his plate.

  “I smell pancakes,” Wade called out, rubbing his hands together as he came into the kitchen. “I hope Adam didn’t eat them all like he usually does.”

  “I don’t do that,” Adam complained.

  Wade rubbed his head, to show him he was teasing, then flashed Carter a grin. “Glad you could join us, buddy.”

  In spite of Wade’s smile, Carter caught an underlying note of sympathy in his voice. Since he’d been back, this was the first time Carter had stepped into the house where he used to live.

  Yet another reason to get away soon. Too much subtext underneath every conversation.

  “Yeah. Miranda strong-armed me into staying.” He kept his tone light.

  “Never mess with a pregnant woman,” Miranda said. “Emma, why don’t you sit down and have some breakfast? I think we have enough to eat.”

  “I’ll throw on a few more pieces of bacon,” she replied.

  “Got enough of that too.” Wade dropped into a chair across from Carter. “Sit down. Eat.”

  “Do we need more coffee?” Emma asked, not moving from her place at the stove.

  “What’s with the excuses? If I didn’t know you better, I’d guess having the boss around was making you nervous.”

  To Carter’s surprise, he saw a flush work its way up her neck as she sat down at the table. He doubted it was caused by nerves.

  More than likely annoyance.

  “I’m done.” Adam licked his fingers one more time then pushed his plate away. “Can I sit on your lap, Mom?”

  “Of course you can,” Emma said, “But first let me wipe your hands.”

  Carter watched as Adam made his way around the table to Emma, unable to look away. She wiped his hands and then shifted her weight so he could sit on her lap. The domestic picture in his old kitchen teased up another memory of his nana cooking for them.

  He dragged his gaze back to his foreman. “Wade, I need to talk to you. About the ranch.”

  “Yeah, sure. What do you need to tell me?” Wade asked, squeezing the syrup bottle over his pancakes.

  Carter didn’t know why he glanced over at Emma again. To his surprise, she was watching him. As if she knew what he would say.

  But before Carter could speak, the phone rang. Wade reached behind him, snagging the handset off its cradle.

  “Wade here,” he said, tucking the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he speared a piece of bacon off the plate. Then his hand froze and his eyes widened.

  “What? When?” Wade dropped his fork and gripped the phone, his fingers white. “How is he…how are they?” He got up and strode out of the kitchen, peppering the phone with anxious questions.

  Miranda shot out of her chair, leaving Emma, Adam and Carter alone in the kitchen.

  Emma wrapped her arms around Adam, as if to shield him from the drama unfolding in the other room.

  Carter felt his own disquiet rise at the concern in Wade’s voice. Then silence, then more questions. Finally, a quiet goodbye. Wade and Miranda talking to each other. Then Wade came back into the kitchen.

  “What’s wrong?” Carter asked, dread sweeping over him at Wade’s solemn expression. “What happened?”

  Wade dropped the phone on the table and then dragged his hands over his face.

  “That was Mom and
Dad’s pastor. My mom and dad were in a car accident. It’s very serious.” Wade blew out his breath, looking around the kitchen but not seeing anything. “I have to go. I have to be with them. I can’t be here.” He turned to Carter. “Can you stay? Until I come back? Take care of the ranch?”

  Carter looked at Wade, his desire to get away from the ranch superseded by his friend’s need.

  “Of course I’ll stay,” he said.

  Even as he spoke the words, he glanced over at Adam, still sitting on Emma’s lap.

  He had no choice. Wade needed him. But as soon as he could leave, he was gone.

  Chapter Four

  “Easy now. Slow it down.” Carter clucked to Banjo, easing his hand down his leg and lifting his hoof. “Good job. Good horse.” He patted him, then ducked under the horse’s neck to do the same on the other side.

  Banjo’s tan hide shone from the brushing Carter gave him. He’d been working with the horse in the open paddock for the past half hour, doing some basic groundwork before he took him out. Reestablishing the relationship he’d had with this horse when he started training him three years ago.

  A year before—

  He cut that thought off, frustrated with the flood of memories he’d had to endure since coming back to the ranch.

  His hand on Banjo’s back, he glanced around at the ranch again, fighting the twist of helpless frustration. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Wade was. But Wade was in the house packing up to leave, and because of that Carter was stuck here until the buyer showed up.

  His eyes drifted over the familiar contours of the mountains surrounding the valley. His mother, Noelle, had moved back onto the ranch when she was expecting him and his twin brother, Garret. He never knew who his father was and, apparently, neither did his mother. At any rate, his parentage on his father’s side was never discussed.

  And when their mother died of cancer when Carter and Garret were ten, there was never any question of where they would live. Here. On the ranch.

  Garret and Carter had grown up in the shadows of these mountains. He knew what they looked like in winter, when the cold winds surged down their snow-covered sides. In the spring when the new leaves of the aspen trees lent a counterpoint to the dark green of the spruce and fir.

  He and Garret had ridden or driven down every possible game trail in and through the hills.

  And when Garret went off to university to get his engineering degree, Carter had stayed behind, working on the ranch with his grandfather and eventually buying out his share.

  Carter thought he’d never leave.

  “How things change,” he muttered, turning back to the horse. Once he was done with Banjo, he was heading out to check on the cows. In spite of his reluctance to be here, he couldn’t stop a thrill of anticipation at seeing the open fields of the upper pasture. This time of the year they would be green and lush and the cattle spread out over them, calves at foot.

  “He’s settled down a lot the past two days.”

  Emma’s quiet voice from the gate startled him, and as he spun around, Banjo jumped.

  “Easy, boy,” Carter murmured, stroking his side as he watched Emma cross the corral, leading her horses. She wore her usual blue jeans and worn cowboy boots. Today her T-shirt was blue with a rodeo logo on the front. Some remnant of her previous life. “He’s got a good heart,” Carter said, catching his lead rope.

  “And a good nature. He’s been well trained,” Emma said quietly.

  Carter noticed the saddles on her two horses. “Are you going out?”

  “Adam and I are riding to the upper pasture.”

  “I’m going up there. You don’t need to come along. I know where the pasture is.”

  Emma shot him a frown. “I’m sure you do, but I made this plan with Wade a couple of days ago. I promised Adam he could come, and he’s excited to go.”

  “I can do this alone,” he said, feeling he had to lodge one more protest. He did not want to spend any more time with the little boy than he had to.

  “I’m not going to let my son down,” Emma said, a hint of steel in her voice. “He’s had enough disappointments for now.”

  Carter knew she was referring to the nonsale of the nonacreage, but it wasn’t his fault the buyer probably didn’t want to subdivide.

  “We’ll go together then,” Carter said with forced nonchalance. Adam made him feel uncomfortable, but he wasn’t staying behind while a stranger did the work needed on his own ranch. Though he was selling the place, he still had a stake in the ranch’s well-being. And in spite of wanting to be rid of the Rocking K, a part of him wanted to see it all one last time.

  Emma’s horses stamped, impatient to get going.

  “I’m going to water Diamond and Dusty at the river, then I’ll be back,” she said.

  Carter looked past her and frowned again. “Where’s Adam?”

  “Getting some cookies for the trip. Miranda is making up a batch to take along when they leave.” Emma blew out her breath in a sigh. “I sure hope Wade’s parents are okay.”

  She was quiet a moment, as if contemplating what Wade would have to deal with. Then she turned and led her horses to the river.

  Banjo snorted and danced as Emma left with the horses.

  “Easy now,” he murmured, but Banjo bugled a loud whinny and Diamond stopped, tugging on his lead rope as he turned his head.

  Emma tried to pull him around, but he resisted, dancing sideways. Obviously, Diamond and Banjo had bonded.

  “I’ll come with you,” Carter said, tugging on Banjo’s halter rope. “My horse could use a drink, as well.”

  He followed her, and both Banjo and Diamond immediately settled down.

  The air, trapped in the trees edging the river, was cool. A welcome respite from the heat of the afternoon. The water burbled and splashed over the rocks, and Carter felt a sigh ease out of him. “I’d forgotten how quiet it is here,” he said, glancing around as his horse drank noisily from the river.

  “That’s why I like coming out here to water the horses,” Emma said. “Though I still can’t figure out why Wade won’t put a waterer in the horse corral like there is for the cows. I’ve seen the fittings for it coming out of the ground.”

  “I’m the one who won’t let him,” Carter said, his voice hard.

  Emma shot him a puzzled glance. “Why not?”

  Carter didn’t want to answer the question. Obviously Wade hadn’t told Emma everything. Thankfully, she sensed that he didn’t want to talk about it and turned her attention back to Diamond, finger combing out the tangles in his mane.

  He blew, then stamped his feet, acting like a kid getting his hair brushed.

  “His hooves need trimming,” Carter said, angling his chin toward Diamond’s feet, eager to switch to a more mundane topic of conversation.

  “I know. I haven’t mastered that part of farrier work yet,” Emma said. “And Wade hasn’t had a chance to do it.”

  While he watched her, she cocked her head to one side, as if waiting for something. Then she smiled. “There’s the train,” Emma said.

  He tilted his head, listening. Then, in the distance he heard the rumbling of the coal train, and habit made him glance at his watch. Right on time.

  Dusty, her other horse, tugged at the reins, as if eager to get on with the trip, but Emma stayed where she was as the second blast of the train’s horn wound its way through the valley. “I love that sound. So mournful and melancholy.”

  Another memory slid into Carter’s mind. His grandmother stopping while she was weeding the garden to listen to the same sound. She even had the same expression on her face as Emma.

  “You’ll get sick enough of that noise when you hear it every day, week after week.” Sylvia would complain that the train horn woke her up, but Carter had grown up with the train and seldom noticed it. He had assured her that she would eventually do the same.

  “I have, and I’m not,” Emma said as she led her horses back up the bank. “The routine reminds a p
erson of where he is even if he’s not aware of it. Kind of anchors you.”

  “Routine can deaden you too,” he replied.

  Emma’s skeptical look at his comment as she passed him made Carter think of the miles he put on his bike and truck the past two years. The constant movement from job to job, thinking that avoiding home and familiarity would ease the pain and guilt.

  Instead it was as if his sorrow was replaced by a deeper longing he couldn’t fill no matter how hard he rode, how many different places he worked.

  “Hey, Mom. I got cookies for our trip.”

  Carter’s heart jumped at the sound of Adam’s voice calling across the yard. He clenched his jaw and struggled once again with his reaction to Emma’s little boy. He’d seen children numerous times in his travels.

  He’d just never seen them riding a horse. Like Harry did. Walking around his ranch like a living reminder of what Carter didn’t have anymore.

  Adam sat perched on the top rail of the corral, waving a paper bag dotted with grease. “They’re really good.”

  “Don’t shake that bag too hard,” Emma warned with a laugh. “You’ll lose the cookies.”

  “And I might scare the horses,” he added, lowering the bag. “Can I come down?” he asked, shifting his weight toward the edge of the fence.

  “Just stay there until I get Diamond and Dusty tied up,” Emma said, leading the horses past Adam.

  Carter held back while Emma walked her horses through the gate, even as his gaze slipped, against his will, back to Adam, rocking back and forth on the top rail of the fence.

  Carter ducked under Banjo’s neck. Adam startled and pulled back.

  “Mommy,” he called as he flailed his arm, holding on to the bag of cookies with the other hand.

  He was falling, and Emma was too far away to help. Carter reached up and snagged him around the waist, steadying him as he slipped off the fence.

  “I want my mommy,” Adam said, pushing at Carter with one hand, as he tried to catch his balance. Banjo shied while Carter juggled Adam and the halter rope.

  “Let me get Banjo settled,” Carter said to Adam, glancing over his shoulder at his horse, who was dancing around, ears back. “Hold still. I don’t want you to get hurt.”