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The Wyoming Cowboy
Rebecca Winters


A Cowboy Who CaresEx-Marine Carson Lundgren's Wyoming ranch is a place where families of fallen war heroes can find joy and healing. The wounded vet is eager to give back, while rebuilding his own life. The last thing he expected is to fall for his first guest and her young son. Widow Tracy Baretta and six-year-old Johnny have been struggling since losing their husband and father.When they meet Carson, his strength, patience and generosity – along with how great he looks on a horse – leads little Johnny to call him “king of the cowboys”. They’ve fallen in love with the place…and maybe with the man himself. But is she just looking for a surrogate father? Or could this incredible cowboy really be the one who’ll make her and her son believe in love again?







A Cowboy Who Cares

Former marine Carson Lundgren’s Wyoming ranch is a place where families of fallen war heroes can find joy and healing. The wounded vet is eager to give back, while rebuilding his own life. The last thing he expected is to fall for his first guest and her young son.

Widow Tracy Baretta and six-year-old Johnny have been struggling since losing their husband and father. When they meet Carson, his strength, patience and generosity—along with how great he looks on a horse—leads little Johnny to call him “king of the cowboys.” They’ve fallen in love with the place…and maybe with the man himself.

But is Tracy just looking for a surrogate father? Or could this incredible cowboy really be the one who’ll make her and her son believe in love again?


“There’s been an awareness between us from the first instant,” said Carson.

“Whether it’s an infatuation that will burn out, only time will tell, but at least we can admit to what we’re feeling right now and go on from here.”

A tortured look entered her eyes. “We can’t go on. This has to end tonight and you know it.”

“Tonight—”

He searched the depths of her eyes. “We’ve only just begun, and we have three more precious days and nights together. How can you say it has to end now? How do we do that, Tracy?”

“Because we can’t afford to start something we can’t finish.”

“Who says we can’t?” he cried fiercely. “It already started Friday evening. Don’t you know I don’t ever want you to go home?”


Dear Reader,

In my latest trilogy, Daddy Dude Ranch, three injured veterans have opened up a dude ranch in the Teton Valley of Wyoming to honor the families of fallen soldiers. Their wish is to be substitute daddies for a week to one child at a time. In this first book, The Wyoming Cowboy, you’ll meet guilt-ridden Carson, who survived his tour of duty yet felt he’d abandoned his grandfather when he went to war. He meets the heartbroken Baretta family, suffering from the loss of their husband and father. Together the three of them begin to heal. Enjoy their journey to a life of happiness and fulfillment none of them knew was awaiting them at the beginning.

Rebecca Winters


The Wyoming Cowboy

Rebecca Winters






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rebecca Winters, whose family of four children has now swelled to include five beautiful grandchildren, lives in Salt Lake City, Utah, in the land of the Rocky Mountains. With canyons and high alpine meadows full of wildflowers nearby, she never runs out of places to explore. These spaces, plus her favorite vacation spots in Europe, often end up as backgrounds for her romance novels. Writing is her passion, along with her family and church. Rebecca loves to hear from readers. If you wish to email her, please visit her website, www.cleanromances.com (http://www.cleanromances.com).


I want to dedicate this series to the courageous men and women serving in our armed forces, who’ve willingly put their lives in harm’s way to keep the rest of us safe. God bless all of you.


Contents

Chapter One (#u0b503e81-7d9f-5ec6-bca4-ff8d709cec91)

Chapter Two (#u095ebcc0-a2c9-5af2-8c0e-c19224593cc3)

Chapter Three (#udd27d860-eb00-5175-82ce-0e7fdf050af2)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One

MARCH 1

Pulmonary Unit

Walter Reed National Military Medical Center Bethesda, Maryland

Carson Lundgren was sitting in the hospital ward’s common room watching the final moments of the NASCAR race when he heard a disturbance. Annoyed, he turned his head to see Dr. Rimer passing out a document to the eight vets assembled. What in blazes was going on?

“Ray? You’re closest to the TV. Would you mind shutting it off?”

Ray nodded and put an end to one of the few distractions the men looked forward to.

“Thank you. You’ll all be going home tomorrow, so I urge you gentlemen to read this and take what you can from it to heart. It’s a good letter written by a former serviceman. I like a lot of things it says. While you’re doing that, I’ll go find our special guest and bring him in.”

Special guest?

The guys eyed each other with resignation. Who knew how long this would take? They were all anxious to watch the end of the race. Carson looked down to scan the page.



Consider how different and difficult it is to go from a life of service, where every day has a mission, and someone depends on you to make life-and-death decisions, to a life with civilians who are making decisions about what client to call back first or what is the best outfit to wear to work.



Life would be different, all right. In Carson’s case he didn’t need to worry about choosing the proper clothes. He was going back to his Wyoming ranch, where a shirt and jeans had been his uniform before he’d signed up for the Marines. It would be his uniform again, now that he was out of the service.



In the beginning it feels as if you are so much more experienced than the people around you, and in a lot of ways you are. But that kind of thinking will only further alienate you from others. Practicing humility is the best possible advice I can give to help with reintegration into civilian life.



Carson did feel more “experienced.” He’d seen things in the war that he could never explain to people who hadn’t gone through the same thing.



Veterans need to recognize that even a short tour in a combat zone can have an effect on them. While it takes everyone some time to recover after coming home, those who have seen, or been directly affected by a traumatic or horrific event (using your own definition or a generally accepted definition of such an event), need to be able to reconcile that it may have an impact on their lives and relationships with others after the deployment is over.



Since Carson had no family and his grandfather was dead, he didn’t need to worry about that.



Seeking help is not a sign of weakness, no more than asking your buddy to cover your backside. The body may heal from scars and wounds readily, but the scars and wounds of trauma can last much longer and are more difficult to heal.



Difficult? A caustic laugh escaped from him. The cough he’d developed in Afghanistan would never go away, and no one could convince him otherwise.



I promise that, in time, you will see that your civilian counterparts are skilled and have a perspective that you may not have ever considered. And through a respect for what they do and what they have done, you will learn that you, too, are valued and respected.



Carson had always respected the ranch staff and knew he could count on their support.

Just as you are on edge in the beginning, they too may be a little unsure of how to treat you and how to act around you.



They’d treat him just the same as always.



So, take the first step. Be patient, be kind and be humble, and you will see that the transition is much easier.



“Gentlemen?” Dr. Rimer came back in the room where most of them were coughing because of the same affliction. He was followed by a five-star general decked out in full-dress uniform. Carson glanced at his buddies, Ross and Buck, wondering what was going on.

“I’m pleased and honored to introduce General Aldous Cook. He’s anxious to talk to you men recovering in the unit. He’s been asked to do some investigating for the Senate committee examining the troubling findings of the Millennium Cohort Study of 2009.”

The eight of them got to their feet and saluted him before shaking his hand.

The General smiled. “Be seated, gentlemen. I’m honored to be in your presence and want to thank you for your invaluable service to our country.” He cleared his throat. “I understand you’re all going home tomorrow and have a great deal on your minds so I’ll make this quick.

“As you’re well aware, a significant number of returning American veterans like yourselves have reported respiratory problems that started during deployment to Iraq and Afghanistan. The study of 2009 revealed that fourteen percent of the deployed troops reported new breathing problems, compared with ten percent among those who hadn’t deployed.

“Though the percentage difference seems small when extrapolated for the two million troops who’ve been deployed since 2001, the survey suggested that at least 80,000 additional soldiers have developed post-deployment breathing problems.

“There’s a fierce debate under way over just how long-lasting and severe these problems really are. We’re tracking the numbers accrued among the troops based in Southern Afghanistan since 2009, particularly the Marines.

“After ruling out other factors, it’s apparent that the powerful dust storms, plus the fine dust from metals, toxins and burn pits used to incinerate garbage at military bases, are the potential culprits. Steps need to be taken to reduce the hazards, and I’m concerned that this exposure isn’t getting the serious review it needs.

“Dr. Rimer has indicated you’ve all improved since you’ve been here, but we’ll continue to track your progress. He assures me that with time, most of you will overcome your coughing and shortness of breath.”

Tell us another fairy tale, General.

“My concern is that every one of you receives the post-deployment care you need for as long as you need it. I’m fighting for you in the congressional hearings.”

Along with the others, Carson stood up and applauded. At least the General had bothered to come to the hospital in person and make an attempt to get at the root of the problem. Carson admired him for that. The General chatted with each of them for a few minutes, then left. With the end of the NASCAR race now missed, everyone left the lounge except Carson and his two roommates, Ross and Buck.

They hadn’t known each other until six weeks ago, when the three of them had been flown here from their various divisions and diagnosed with acute dyspnea. But even if they were hacking, coughing and wheezing, at least they’d arrived at the hospital on their own two feet. It tore them up that some of their buddies—especially those who’d been married with families—hadn’t made it through the war.

The behavioral psychologist who’d been working with them suggested that, once they were discharged, they should find a positive way to work through their survivor’s guilt.

In addition to the guilt Carson already struggled with for personal reasons, he was barely functioning. During the long hours of the night when they couldn’t sleep, they’d talked about the wives and children who’d lost husbands and fathers from their own squads. If the three of them could think of a way to help those families, maybe they could forgive themselves for coming home alive.

At one point in their nocturnal discussions, Carson threw out an idea that began to percolate and gain ground. “What if we invited the fatherless kids to my ranch for a summer vacation? The ranch has lots of outdoor activities for kids who may not have spent much time out-of-doors. We could take them fishing and camping, not to mention horseback riding and hiking.”

Ross sat up in his bed. “All of those are good confidence builders. Heaven knows those children will have lost some confidence. How many kids are you talking about?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you have enough room for guests?”

“No. We’d have to live in the ranch house, so that wouldn’t work. We’d have to put up some cabins.”

“I could build them with your help,” Buck offered. “Construction is what I was raised to do.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have much money.”

Buck said, “I have a little I’ve put away.”

“I have some, too,” Ross chimed in. “Looking down the road, we’d have to hire and pay a cook and provide maid service.”

Encouraged, Carson said, “No matter what, we’ll have to start out small.”

“Their moms will have to bring them.”

“You’re right, Buck. How long should they come for?”

“This is a bit of an experiment, so how about we try a week with one family and see how it goes?”

“For working mothers, I think a week sounds about right,” Ross theorized. “One thing we can do is help the kids if they need to talk about death, since we’ve been through a lot of grief counseling ourselves.”

“Good point. That’s one thing we know how to do. What ages are we talking about?”

“I’m thinking about my nieces and nephews,” Buck murmured. “How about little guys who are really missing their dads? Like six on up to maybe ten.”

Carson nodded. “That sounds about right. They’d be school age. Younger than six might be too young.”

“Agreed,” they all concurred.

Before long, enthusiasm for the project they envisioned wouldn’t let them alone. They soon found themselves plotting to turn Carson’s ranch into a dude ranch where tourists could come along with the families of fatherless children. They would establish a fund to take care of the costs. If their pilot program went well through the summer, they’d talk about keeping it open year-round.

Their plan was a good one and sounded feasible, except for one thing. None of them had gone home yet. Anything could happen when Buck and Ross were reunited with their families. Their parents had dreams for them when their beloved sons returned to their former lives. For that reason, Carson wasn’t holding his breath—what little he had at the moment. He had to admit the inhalers were helping. When he’d first been brought in, he’d been gasping for every breath and thought each was his last.

Of the three men, Carson was the only one who didn’t have living family. The grandfather who’d raised him had passed away five months ago of a surprise heart attack, leaving the ranch and its problems to him. Not even his grandfather’s doctor had seen it coming. Carson had flown home on emergency family leave to bury him.

In that regard, he wouldn’t have to run their brainchild past the older man he’d abandoned when he’d entered the military. At the time he hadn’t seen it as abandonment. They’d corresponded and phoned whenever possible, but in the end Carson wasn’t there for his grandfather when the chips were down. Now it was too late to make it up to the man he’d loved.

“Tomorrow’s the big day, guys.” Once they were all discharged from the hospital in the morning, he knew anything could happen to change his friends’ focus.

Buck nodded. “I’ll join you before the week is out.”

Maybe. But knowing Buck was the oldest son in a large, close-knit family who wanted and needed him back in the construction business, maybe not. “Give me a call and I’ll pick you up at the airport. What about you, Ross?”

“Three days at the most.”

“You think?”

He eyed him narrowly. “I know.”

Put like that, Carson could believe him, but his family who’d made their mark in oil for generations would have its way of pressuring the favorite son who’d made it home from the war. His politician father had long laid hopes for him set in stone. Time would tell if their master plan would get off the ground.

“I can hear the carts arriving with our dinner. Let’s get back to the room and eat before our final session with the shrink.”

It couldn’t come soon enough for any of them. The war had been their world for a long time. Tomorrow they’d leave it forever. But fear clutched him in the gut that it would never leave them.

MAY 2

Sandusky, Ohio

AT THREE O’CLOCK, Tracy Baretta left her office to pick up Johnny from elementary school. When she joined the line of cars waiting for the kids to come out, she hoped she’d see Clara Brewster. Her son, Nate, was a cute boy who’d invited Johnny to his birthday party last month. Johnny hadn’t wanted to go, but Tracy had made him.

Maybe Nate would like to come home with her and Johnny to play, but she didn’t see him or his mom. Her disappointment changed to a dull pain when she had to wait until all the kids had been picked up before her skinny, dark-haired first grader exited the school doors alone.

He purposely hung back from the others. His behavior had her worried sick. She’d been setting up some playdates with a few of the other boys in his first-grade class, but they hadn’t worked out well.

Johnny preferred to be alone and stay home with her after school. He’d become a very quiet child since Tony’s death and was way too attached to her. The psychologist told her to keep finding ways to get him to interact with other kids and not take no for an answer, but she wasn’t gaining ground.

He got in the rear seat with his backpack and strapped himself in. She looked over her shoulder at him. “How was school today, honey?”

“We had a substitute.”

“Was she fun?”

“It was a man. I didn’t like him.”

She eyed him in the rearview mirror. “Why do you say that?”

“He made me sit with Danny.”

“Isn’t he a nice boy?”

“He calls me squirt.”

His tear-filled voice brought out every savage maternal instinct to protect him. Praying for inspiration she said, “Do you want to know something?”

“What?”

“Your father was one of the shortest kids in his class when he was your age. By high school he was five feet ten.” The perfect size for Tracy. “That’ll happen to you, too. Do you think your father was a squirt?”

“No,” he muttered.

“Then forget what Danny said. When we go to Grandma’s house, she’ll show you lots of pictures to make you feel better.”

Of course Johnny couldn’t forget. Silence filled the car for the rest of the drive home to their small rental house. She parked in front of the garage. While he scrambled out of the back, she retrieved the mail and they entered through the front door.

Once inside, he raced for the kitchen. “Wash your hands before you eat anything!” He was always hungry for sweets after school.

While her six-year-old grumbled and ran into the bathroom, Tracy went to the kitchen and poured him a glass of milk before she sorted through the mail, mostly ads and bills. Among the assortment she saw a handwritten envelope addressed to Mrs. Anthony Baretta. It had a Jackson, Wyoming, postmark.

She didn’t know anyone in Wyoming. Her glance took in the return address. Lundgren’s Teton Valley Dude Ranch was printed inside the logo of a mountain peak.

A dude ranch? She’d heard of them all her life, but she’d never been to one. Truth be told, she’d never traveled west of the Mississippi. Every trip had been to Florida, the East Coast, New York City, the Jersey Shore or Toronto. Tony had promised Johnny that when he got out of the service next year, they’d take a big driving trip west, all the way to Disneyland. Another pain shot through her.

She took a deep breath, curious to know who would be writing to her from Wyoming. After slitting the envelope open, she pulled out the handwritten letter.



Dear Mrs. Baretta,

My name is Carson Lundgren. You don’t know me from Adam. I served as a marine in Afghanistan before I got out of the service.



The word Afghanistan swam before her eyes. Tony. She closed them tightly to stop the tears and sank down on one of the kitchen chairs. Her husband had been gone eleven months, yet she knew she would always experience this crushing pain when she thought of him.

“Mom? Can I have a peanut-butter cookie?” He’d drunk his milk.

“How about string cheese or an apple instead?”

“No-o,” he moaned.

“Johnny—” she said in a firm voice.

“Can I have some for dinner?”

“If you eat everything else first.”

“Okay.” She heard him rummage in the fridge for the cheese before he left the kitchen to watch his favorite afternoon cartoons.

When he’d disappeared into the living room, she wiped her eyes and continued reading.



Buck Summerhays and Ross Livingston, former marines, are in business with me on the Teton Valley Dude Ranch. We put our heads together and decided to contact the families of the fallen soldiers from our various units.

Your courageous husband, Anthony Baretta, served our country with honor and distinction. Now, we’d like to honor him by offering you and your son John an all-expenses-paid, one-week vacation at the dude ranch anytime in June, July or August. We’ll pay for your airfare and any other travel expenses.



Tracy’s eyes widened in total wonder.



You’re welcome to contact your husband’s division commander. His office helped us obtain your address. If you’re interested and have questions, please phone our office at the number below. We’ve also listed our website. Visit it to see the brochure we’ve prepared. We’ll be happy to email you any additional information.

Please know how anxious we are to give something back to you after Anthony’s great sacrifice.

With warmest regards,

Carson Lundgren



His words made her throat swell with emotion. With the letter still open, she phoned the commander’s office and learned that the offer was completely legitimate. His assistant had nothing but praise for such a worthy cause and hoped she and her son would be able to take advantage of it.

Tracy’s thoughts flew to her plans for the summer. When school was out, it was decided she and Johnny would spend six weeks in Cleveland with Tony’s parents. They saw Tony in their grandson and were living for a long visit. So was Tracy, who’d been orphaned at eighteen and had no other family.

Luckily, she had June and the first half of July off from her job as technology facilitator for the Sandusky school district. Both she and Johnny needed a huge dose of family love, and they would get it. Grandma planned for them to stay in Tony’s old room with all his stuff. Johnny would adore that.

The Barettas were a big Italian-American family with aunts, uncles and lots of cousins. Two of Johnny’s uncles were policemen and the other three were firefighters, like their father. Like Tony, before he’d joined the Marines to help pay for a college education.

Their loving kindness had saved her life, and Johnny’s, when news of the tragedy had come. He needed that love and support more than ever. She wondered what his reaction would be when he heard what this new invitation was about.

But before she did anything else, she called her sister-in-law Natalie to feel her out. When Tracy read her the letter, Natalie cried, “You’ve got to be kidding me! A dude ranch? Oh, my gosh, Tracy. You’ll have the time of your life. Ask Ruth. She went to one in Montana with my folks a few years ago. Remember?”

“Vaguely.”

“Yeah. It was a working ranch and they helped feed animals and went on trail rides and stuff. She got to help herd some cows.”

“I don’t think this is that kind of a ranch, but I don’t know for sure. The thing is, Johnny’s been difficult for so long, I don’t think he’d even like the idea of it.”

“If you want, I’ll tell Cory about it. I could have him call Johnny and tell him he’s thinks it would be super cool.”

“That might work. Johnny loves Cory and usually goes along with anything his favorite cousin says.”

“Cory will want to go with him. But seriously, Tracy, I can’t believe what a wonderful thing these ex-marines have decided to do. You hear a lot of talk about remembering our fallen heroes, but this is the first time I’ve heard of a group of soldiers doing something like this.”

“I know. Believe me, I’m blown away by this letter. If Tony knew, he’d be so touched.” The tears came. She couldn’t stop them. “There’s just one problem. The folks are expecting Johnny and me to visit there as soon as school is out. Since my vacation is over in mid-July, I would have to make arrangements to do this trip before then.”

“True.” Natalie’s voice trailed. “It will cut into the time you planned with Mom and Dad Baretta.”

“Yes. You know how they’re looking forward to spending time with Johnny.”

“Well, don’t say anything to them until you find out if he wants to go.”

“You’re right. First things first. I’ll let you know what happens. Thanks for being there and being my best friend.”

“Ditto to you. Ciao.”

Deciding there was no time like the present to find out, Tracy picked up the letter and walked into the living room. Johnny was spread out on the floor with his turtle pillow-pet watching Tom and Jerry.

“Honey, do you mind if I shut off the TV? There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

He turned to look at her out of eyes as dark a brown as Tony’s. She picked up the remote and turned the set off before sitting down on the couch. “We just got an invitation in the mail to do something we’ve never done before. It was sent by some men who used to be marines, like your father.”

That seemed to pique his interest enough to sit up cross-legged. “Are they going to have a party?” In his child’s world, an invitation meant a party. Since Tony’s death he’d shied away from them. He seemed to have lost his confidence. It killed her.

“No. Let me read this to you.”

He sat quietly until she’d finished. “What’s a dude ranch?”

“It’s a place to go horseback riding and probably lots of other things.”

Her son had never been on a horse. Neither had she. “You mean like a cowboy?” She nodded. “Where is it?”

“In Wyoming.”

“Where’s that?”

“If you’re interested, I’ll show you on the computer.”

“Okay.”

He followed her into her bedroom where she had her laptop. In a second she’d brought up a map of the United States. “We live here, in Ohio.” She pointed to Cleveland. “Now, watch my finger. You have to cross Indiana, Illinois, Iowa and South Dakota to get to Wyoming, right here.”

She could hear his mind working. “How long would we be gone?”

“A week.”

“That’s a long time.” His voice wobbled. “I don’t want to go.”

Tracy had been afraid of that answer, but she understood. It meant leaving the only security he’d ever known. Going to stay with his aunt Natalie and play with his cousin Cory, or having an overnighter on the weekend with his grandparents, who only lived an hour away, was different.

“We don’t have to. These men know your daddy died and they’d like to do something nice for you, but it’s your decision, Johnny. Before I turn off the computer, would you like to see some pictures Mr. Lundgren sent so you could see what it looks like?”

He sighed. “I guess.”

Tracy typed in the web address and clicked. Up popped a colored photograph of the Teton Mountain Range with a few pockets of snow. The scene was so spectacular she let out a slight gasp. In the bottom of the picture was the layout of the Teton Valley Dude Ranch surrounded by sage.

A “whoa” from Johnny told her his attention had been captured. She read the description below the picture out loud.

“The dude ranch is located along the legendary Snake River in the shadow of the magnificent Teton Mountain Range. It’s just five miles from the town of Jackson, a sophisticated mountain resort. Fifteen minutes away are world-class skiing areas.

“This 1,700-acre ranch operates as a cattle ranch with its own elk and deer herds, eagles and bears. There’s fishing along the three miles of the Snake. At elevations from 6,200 to 7,300 feet, summers bring average temperatures of eighty degrees and low humidity.

“Mountaineering, fly-fishing, white-water rafting, wildlife expeditions, horseback riding, photo safaris, hiking and camping trips, stargazing, bird watching, ballooning, a visit to the rodeo, are all included when you stay on the ranch. Among the amenities you’ll enjoy are a game room, a swimming pool, a babysitting service, laundry services and the use of a car for local transportation.”

Johnny nudged her. “What’s white water?”

She’d been deep in thought. “There’s a picture here of some people in a raft running the rapids. Take a look.”

His eyes widened. “You mean we’d do that if we went there?”

“If we wanted to.”

He looked up at her. “When would we go?”

So he was interested. She felt a sudden lift of her spirits. “How about as soon as school is out? After our trip is over, we’ll fly back to Cleveland and stay with Grandma and Grandpa for a month. Why don’t you think about it, and let me know tonight before you go to bed?”

“Can I see the rest of the pictures?”

“Sure. You know how to work the computer. While you do that, I’m going to start dinner.” With her fingers crossed, she got up from her swivel chair so he could sit and look at everything. He needed something to bring him out of his shell. Maybe a trip like this would help.

A half hour later he came running into the kitchen where she’d made spaghetti. “Mom—you should see the elks. They have giant horns!”

“You mean antlers.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot.”

She hunkered down and gave him a hug. “It’s pretty exciting stuff, huh.”

He stared at her with a solemn expression. “Do you want to go?”

Oh, my precious son. “If you do.”

JUNE 7

Jackson, Wyoming

IT WAS LATE Friday afternoon when the small plane from Salt Lake City, Utah, started to make its descent. The pilot came on over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, you’re about to land at the only commercial airport located inside a U.S. national park.”

Johnny reached for Tracy’s hand.

“We’re flying over the Greater Yellowstone region with forests, mountains, wilderness areas and lakes as far as the eye can see. Ahead is the majestic Teton Range. You’ll see the Snake River and the plains around it in a patchwork of colors.”

Tracy found it all glorious beyond description, but when the Grand Teton came into view, knifing into the atmosphere, every passenger was struck dumb with awe.

“If you’ll look below, we’re coming up on Jackson Hole.”

Seeing it for the first time, Tracy could understand the reason for its name. It was a narrow valley surrounded by mountains and probably presented a challenge for the pilot to land safely. She clung to Johnny’s hand. Before long, their plane touched down on the tarmac and taxied to the gate.

After it came to a stop, she unclasped their seat belts. “Are you all right, honey?”

He nodded. “That was scary.”

“I agree, but we’re here safe and sound now.” She reached for her purse above the seat. “Let’s go.”

They followed the other eight passengers out the exit to the tiny terminal. The second they entered the one-story building, she heard a deep male voice call her name.

Tracy looked to her left and saw a tall, lean cowboy in jeans and a Western shirt. With his hard-muscled physique, he stood out from everyone else around him. This was no actor from a Western movie set. From his well-worn black Stetson to his cowboy boots, everything about him shouted authentic.

Johnny hugged her side. “Who’s that?” he whispered.

The thirtyish-looking stranger must have heard him because he walked over and reached out to shake Johnny’s hand. “My name’s Carson Lundgren. I’m the man who sent your mom the letter inviting you to the ranch. You have to be John.” His eyes traveled over Tracy’s son with a compassion she could feel.

He nodded.

“Have you found your stomach yet, or is it still up in the air?” His question made Johnny laugh. He couldn’t have said anything to break the ice faster. “I’ll tell you a secret. When I was your age and my grandpa took me on my first plane ride around the Teton Valley, I didn’t find my stomach for a week, but you get used to it.”

While her son was studying him in amazement, his hot blue gaze switched to Tracy. Her medium height meant she had to look up at him. He removed his hat, revealing a head of dark blond hair, attractively disheveled.

“Mrs. Baretta, it’s a pleasure to meet you and your son.”

“We’re excited to be here, Mr. Lundgren, and honored by the invitation. Please call us Johnny and Tracy.”

“Terrific. You can call me Carson.” He coughed for a few seconds. “Forgive me. I do that quite often. Something I picked up overseas. It’s not contagious.”

Johnny’s head tipped back to look at him. “You used to be a marine like my dad, huh?”

“Yup. I have a picture of him and his buddies.” He pulled a wallet from his pocket. Inside was a small packet of photos. He handed one to Johnny. “I didn’t know him, because I’d just been transferred in from another detail when the picture was taken. But I learned Tony Baretta came from a long line of firefighters and had the reputation of being the toughest marine in the unit. You can keep it.”

“Thanks.” His young voice trembled. “I loved him.”

“Of course you did, just like I loved my grandpa.”

“What about your dad?”

“My parents were killed in a freak flood when I was a baby. My grandparents raised me. After my grandma died, it was just Grandpa and me.”

“Didn’t you have cousins?”

“Nope. How about you?”

He looked at Tracy. “How many do I have, Mom?”

“Let me think. Twenty-two-and-a-half at the present counting.”

Carson’s brows lifted. “You’re lucky. I would have given anything for just one.”

That sounded like a lonely statement. Tracy looked over Johnny’s shoulder while he studied the photograph. She counted a dozen soldiers in uniform. When she found Tony, her eyes glazed over.

Johnny’s next remark surprised her because it wasn’t about his father. “You look different in a helmet.”

“We were just a bunch of metal heads.” Johnny laughed again. “None of us liked them much, but the gear kept us protected.”

“I like your cowboy hat better,” Johnny said before putting the picture in his pocket.

Carson grinned. The rugged rancher was one striking male. “Shall we get you a hat like it on our way to the ranch?”

“Could we?” Tracy hadn’t seen him exhibit this kind of excitement in over a year.

“Of course. You can’t live on a dude ranch without your duds.”

“What are duds?”

“Everything I’m wearing plus a lot of other things.”

“What other things?”

“Chaps and gloves for bull riding.”

“Do you ride bulls?” Johnny’s eyes grew huge.

“I used to when I was training for the rodeo.”

“Can I see one?”

“Sure. I’m planning on taking you to the Jackson rodeo on the last night you’re here. You’ll see barrel racing and steer wrestling too.”

“Mom!” Johnny cried out with uncontained excitement.

“Come on, partner. Let’s get your luggage and we’ll go shopping.”

“As long as you let me pay for everything,” Tracy interjected.

He shook his head. “While you’re here, we take care of everything for the kids.”

“I can’t allow that,” she insisted. “A free vacation is one thing, but I’ll be buying whatever Johnny wants or needs while we’re here.”

His blue eyes flickered before he shoved his hat back on. “Yes, ma’am.”

Johnny had to hurry to keep up with the larger-than-life cowboy whose long powerful legs reached the baggage claim in a few strides.

“I bet you’re hungry. Do you like buffalo burgers?”

“Buffalo?”

Tracy tried to hide her smile. Her son turned to her. “Mom? Are there really buffalo burgers?”

“Yes, but I’ve never eaten one.”

He looked at Carson. “Are they good?”

“Do you like hamburgers?”

“Yes.”

“Then you don’t have anything to worry about.” His lips twitched when he glanced at Tracy. “Which bags are yours?”

“The two blue ones and the matching shoulder bag.”

“Here you go.” He handed Johnny the shoulder bag and he reached for the other two. “The van’s right outside.” Her son had to be surprised, but she noticed he carried the bag like a man and kept up with Carson.

They walked outside into a beautiful, still evening. She loved the dry air, but could tell they were at a much higher elevation than they were used to. The mountain range loomed over the valley, so close she felt dwarfed by it.

Their host shot her a concerned glance. “Are you all right, Tracy?”

“I’m fine.”

“The air’s thinner than you’re used to in Ohio.”

“It isn’t that as much as the mountains. They’re so close to us, I feel like they’re pressing in.”

“I had the same feeling in reverse when we reached Afghanistan and I got off the plane with no mountains in sight where we landed. I felt like I was in a constant state of free-fall. Without landmarks, it took me a while to get my bearings.”

“Coming from a paradise like this, I can’t even imagine it. Tony and I grew up on Lake Erie. He told me that after he got there, with no water in sight, he went into shock.”

“We all did,” Carson murmured. “On every level.”

She hadn’t talked to anyone about Tony’s war experiences in a long time and hadn’t wanted to. But this was different, because Carson had made a connection by being there, too. With that photo in his pocket, her son wouldn’t forget, either.

He guided them to the dark green van. It was easy to spot, with the same logo on the side she’d seen on the envelope. He stowed their luggage in the rear, then helped her and Johnny into the backseat.

“First we’ll head to the Silver Dollar Grill for some grub.”

“What’s grub?”

“That’s what the ranch hands call food. After that, we’ll drive over to the Boot Corral and get you outfitted. I think they even sell some mustangs.”

“What are those?”

“Cap guns. When I was little I had a mustang and played like I was Hopalong Cassidy.”

“Who was he?”

“Hoppy was a straight shooter and my favorite cowboy.”

His dark head jerked around to Tracy. “Did you ever see Hoppy?”

Her quick-study son was soaking up all this fascinating information like a sponge. “When I was a little girl my father had some old Western movies and we’d watch them. Hoppy was the good guy who always played fair. He had white hair and wore a black cowboy hat.”

“Hey—” He looked at Carson. “So do you!” Johnny cried in delight.

“Yup. I wanted to be just like him.”

Tracy smiled. “He had two partners. One old duffer was called Gabby, and the young one was called Lucky. I was crazy about Lucky. He was tall and good-looking.”

Johnny giggled.

“All the girls loved Lucky,” Carson commented. “That was mushy stuff.”

“Yeah,” her son agreed with him.

“Now we know where Lucky got his name, don’t we.” Carson winked at her. “I have a couple of old Western movies on CD, and you can see him in action.”

“Can we watch it tonight?”

“No, young man,” Tracy intervened. “When we get to the ranch, we’re both going straight to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“Your mom’s right, Johnny. Tonight we’ll load you up with one of those mustangs Hoppy used to use and all the ammo you want. In a few days, when I take you out riding, we’ll scout for bad guys.”

“I’ve never been on a horse.”

“Never?”

“No.”

Those blue eyes flicked to Tracy. “How about you?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid we’re a pair of the greenest greenhorns you ever met. When I saw your dude ranch logo on the envelope, I never dreamed Johnny and I would end up spending time on one.”

His chuckle slid in under the radar to resonate through her. “With a couple of lessons that problem will be rectified and you can explore to your heart’s content. There’s no place like it on Earth. My grandfather used to tell me that, but it wasn’t until I came home for his funeral last November that I realized what he meant.” She heard the tremor in his voice.

He’d had a recent loss, too. Tracy sensed he was still suffering.

Carson broke their gaze and looked back at Johnny. “We have four ponies. I think I know the one that will be yours while you’re here.”

“Yippee!” Until this moment Tracy hadn’t thought her son’s face would ever light up like that again.

“You can name her,” he added.

Johnny looked perplexed. “I don’t know any girl names for a horse.”

“You think about it tonight, and tell me tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Carson smiled at both of them before closing the door. She heard him cough again before he walked around the car and got in behind the wheel. Something he’d picked up after being deployed, he’d said.

“What makes you cough so much?”

He looked over at Johnny. “There were a lot of contaminants in the air in Afghanistan. Stuff like smoke and toxins. Some of the soldiers breathed too many bad fumes and our lungs were injured. When I got sick, I was sent to a hospital in Maryland for special treatment. That’s where I met Ross and Buck. We became such good friends, we decided to go into business together after we got home.”

“Oh. Does it hurt?” Johnny almost whispered the last word.

“It did in the beginning, but not so much now. We’re a lot better than we used to be.”

“I’m glad.”

Her sweet boy.

“Me too, son.”

War was a ghastly reality of life. Carson and his friends were some of the fortunate ones who came home alive. She admired them for getting on with living despite their problem, for unselfishly wanting to make a difference in her life and Johnny’s. What generous, remarkable men....

As he drove them toward the town, she stared out the window. With night coming on, the Tetons formed a giant silhouette against the growing darkness. She shivered in reaction.

Instead of Johnny, who carried on an animated conversation with their host about horses and breeds, she was the one who felt oddly troubled for being so far away from home and everything familiar to her. This new world had taken her by surprise in ways she couldn’t understand or explain.


Chapter Two

Carson pulled the van in front of the newly erected cabin designated for the Baretta family. He’d asked one of the girls from town who did housekeeping to keep the lights on after she left. Earlier he’d made certain there were snacks for the Barettas, and in the minifridge he’d stored plenty of juices and sodas.

It had grown quiet during the drive from Jackson to the ranch. When he looked in the rearview mirror, he saw Johnny was fast asleep. The cute little guy had finally conked out.

Carson got out and opened the rear door of the van. His gaze met Tracy’s. He handed her the key. “If you’ll open the door, I’ll carry him inside.”

She gathered the sacks with their purchases and hurried ahead of him. The front room consisted of a living room with a couch and chairs and a fireplace. On one wall was an entertainment center with a TV, DVD player and a supply of family movies for the guests. Against the other wall was a rectangular table and chairs. A coffeemaker and a microwave sat on one end near the minifridge.

The back hallway divided into two bedrooms and a bathroom. He swept past her to one of the bedrooms and deposited Johnny on one of the twin beds. He didn’t weigh a lot. The boy was built like his father and had the brunette hair and brown eyes of his Italian ancestry.

He was Tony Baretta’s son, all right. You wouldn’t think he belonged to his blonde mother until you saw his facial features. Pure northern European, like hers. An appealing combination.

As for Tracy Baretta with her gray-green eyes, she was just plain appealing. Unexpectedly lovely. Womanly.

In the guys’ desire to make this week memorable for their family, he simply hadn’t counted on...her.

While she started taking off Johnny’s shoes, Carson went back outside to bring in the luggage. “If you need anything, just pick up the phone and one of the staff will answer, day or night. Tomorrow morning, walk over to the main ranch house. We serve breakfast there from six to nine in the big dining room. Lunch is from twelve to two and dinner from five to eight.

“I’ll watch for you and introduce you to the guys. They’re anxious to meet you. After that, we’ll plan your day. For your information, different sets of tourists are staying in the other cabins, but you’re the only family here at our invitation for this coming week. In another month we’re expecting our next family.”

She followed him to the front door of the cabin. “Thank you for everything, Carson.” Her voice cracked. “To be honest, I’m overwhelmed. You and your friends are so good to do what you’re doing. I could never repay you for this.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “From the time you met us at the airport, my son has been a different child. That picture meant everything to him.”

To her, too, he wagered.

“Losing your husband has been a traumatic experience for you. My friends and I know that. Even though anyone in the military, and their family, is aware that death can come, no one’s ready for it. When our division heard about Tony, we all suffered because he left a wife and child. We’re like brothers out there. When one gets hurt, we all hurt.”

She nodded. “Tony talked a lot about his buddies. He was so proud to serve with you.”

“That goes both ways. There’s no way we can bring him back to you, but we’d like to put a smile back on your son’s face, if only for a little while. I promise that while you’re here, we’ll treat him with sensitivity and try to keep him as happy and safe as is humanly possible.”

She smiled warmly. “I know you will.” He could feel her sincerity.

“We have other guests coming to the ranch all the time, but you and Johnny are our special visitors. No one knows that we’ve nicknamed this place the Daddy Dude Ranch. What we hope to do is try to lend ourselves out as dads to take some of the burden off you.”

Her hazel eyes glistened with tears. “You’ve already done that. Did you see Johnny in that shop earlier, walking around in those Western clothes with that huge smile on his face? He put that cowboy hat on just the way you wear yours and tried walking like you do in his new cowboy boots. I never saw anything so cute in my life.”

“You’re right about that.” Carson thought he’d never seen anything so beautiful as the woman standing in front of him.

“That mustang we bought was like giving him a bag of Oreos with just the centers.”

Carson chuckled. “He likes those?”

“He has a terrible sweet tooth.”

“Didn’t we all?”

“Probably. Let me say once again how honored I feel that you picked our family. It was a great thrill to receive your letter. Already I can tell Johnny is thriving on this kind of attention. What you’re doing is inspirational.”

From the light behind them, he could pick out gold and silver filaments in the hair she wore fastened at her nape. Opposites had attracted to produce Johnny. Carson was having trouble concentrating on their conversation.

“Thank you, Tracy. He’s a terrific boy.”

“For a man who’s never had children, you’re so good with him. Where did you learn those skills?”

“That’s because my grandfather was the best and put up with me and my friends. If it rubbed off on me, then I’m glad.”

“So am I. Johnny’s having a marvelous time.”

“I had a wonderful evening, too, believe me. If I didn’t say it before, welcome to the Teton Valley Ranch. Now I’ll wish you good-night.”

He left quickly and headed for the van. It was a short drive to the main house where he’d been raised. He pulled in back and entered through the rear door. Ross was still in the den working on the accounts when Carson walked down the hall.

“Hey—” Ross called to him. “How did everything go with the Baretta family?”

“Hang on while I grab a cup of coffee and I’ll tell you.”

“I could use one, too. I’ll come with you.” They walked down another hall to the kitchen, both coughing up a storm en route.

“Where’s Buck?”

“In town, getting some more materials to do repairs on the bunkhouse. He should have been back by now.”

“Unless he made a stop at Bubba’s Barbecue to see you-know-who.”

“Since his last date with Nicole after she got off work, I don’t think he’s interested after all. She called here twice today. He didn’t return the calls.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Buck was a confirmed bachelor, as were they all.

Carson grabbed a donut. The cook, who lived in town, had gone home for the night. They had the kitchen to themselves. No sooner had he brewed a fresh pot of coffee than they heard Buck coughing before he appeared in the doorway.

In a minute the three of them filled their mugs and sat down at the old oak table where Carson had eaten most of the meals in his life with his grandparents. Until he’d gone into the Marines. But he didn’t want to think about that right now. The guys wanted to know how things had gone at the airport.

“Johnny Baretta is the cutest little six-year-old you ever saw in your life.” He filled them in on the details. “He swallowed a couple of bites of that buffalo burger like a man.”

They smiled. “How about his mom?” Buck asked.

Carson took a long swig of his coffee. How to answer them... “Nice.”

Ross burst into laughter. “That’s it? Nice?”

No. That wasn’t it. “When you meet her in the morning at breakfast, you can make your own assessment.” He knew exactly how they’d react. “She’s very grateful.”

Both men eyed him with speculation. Buck drained his mug. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“After breakfast I’ll take them over to the barn and give them a riding lesson. Later in the day I thought they’d appreciate a drive around the ranch to get their bearings, and we’ll go from there. What about you?”

“I’m going to get the repairs done on the bunkhouse in the morning. Then I’ll be taking the Holden party on an overnight campout. We’ll be back the next day.”

Ross got up from the table to wash their mugs. “The Harris party is planning to do some fly fishing. If Johnny wants to join us, come and find me.”

“That boy is game for anything.” Tony Baretta had been a lucky man in many ways. He shouldn’t have been the one to get killed by a roadside bomb. Carson could still hear Johnny say, I loved my dad. The sound of the boy’s broken heart would always haunt him.

He pushed himself away from the table, causing Buck to give him a second glance. “What’s up?”

Carson grimaced. “When we thought up this idea, we hadn’t met these people. It was pure hell to look into that little guy’s eyes last night and see the sadness. I hadn’t counted on caring so m—” Another coughing spell attacked him, preventing him from finishing his thought.

He needed his inhaler and headed for the hall. “I’ll see you two in the morning.” Ross would do a security check and lock up.

Carson had taken over his grandfather’s room on the ground floor. The other two had bedrooms on the second floor. It was a temporary arrangement. At the end of the summer they’d assess their dude ranch experiment. If they decided it wasn’t working, either or both of them could still work on the ranch and make Wyoming their permanent home. He’d already told them they could build their own houses on the property.

Once he reached the bedroom, he inhaled his medication and then took a shower followed by a sleeping pill. Tonight he needed to be knocked out. His old friend “guilt” was back with a double punch. He couldn’t make up to his grandfather for the years away, and no power on earth could bring Johnny’s father back.

Carson must have been out of his mind to think a week on the ranch was going to make a dent in that boy’s pain. He knew for sure Tracy was barely functioning, but she was a mother who’d do anything to help her child get on with living. She had that hidden strength women were famous for. He could only admire her and lament his lack of it.

After getting into bed, he lay back against the pillow with a troubled sigh. He realized it was too late to decide not to go through with the dude ranch idea for the fallen soldiers’ families. He and the guys had put three months of hard labor into their project to get everything ready. The Barettas had already arrived and were now asleep in one of the new cabins.

They had their work cut out for them, but Carson was afraid they’d fall short of their desire to make a difference. In fact he was terrified.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING Tracy pulled on a pair of jeans and a sage-colored cotton sweater. It had a crew neck and long sleeves. She’d done some shopping before this trip. If it got hot later in the day, she’d switch to a blouse. The cowboy boots she’d bought last evening felt strange and would take some getting used to.

After giving her hair a good brush, she fastened it at the nape with a tortoise-shell clip. Once she’d put on lotion and applied lipstick, a shade between coral and pink, she was ready for the day.

“Who’s hungry for breakfast?” she asked, coming out of the bathroom into the sunny room with its yellow and white motif. But it was a silly question because Johnny didn’t hear her. He’d been dressed for half an hour in his new duds, complete with a black cowboy hat and boots, and was busy loading his mustang again. Already he’d gone through a couple of rolls of caps, waking her up with a start.

She’d bought him three dozen rolls to keep him supplied, but at this rate he’d go through them by the end of the day. It was a good thing the cabins weren’t too close together.

Tracy slipped the key in her pocket. “Come on, honey.” She opened the door and immediately let out a gasp as she came face-to-face with the Grand Teton. In the morning sun it looked so different from last night when she’d had the sensation of it closing in on her. Against an impossibly blue sky, she’d never seen anything as glorious in her life.

Between the vista of mountains and the strong scent of sage filling the dry air, Tracy felt as if they’d been transported to another world. Even Johnny stopped fiddling with his cap gun to look. “Those sure are tall mountains!”

“They’re magnificent!”

She locked the door and they started walking along the dirt road to the sprawling two-story ranch house in the distance. It was the kind you saw in pictures of the Old West, owned by some legendary cattle king.

“I hope they have cereal.”

Tracy hoped they didn’t. He needed to get off candy and sugar-coated cereal, his favorites when he could get away with it. His grandmother made all kinds of fabulous pasta, but he only liked boring mac and cheese out of the box. “Carson mentioned eggs, bacon and buckwheat pancakes.”

“What’s buckwheat?”

She smiled. “You’ll have to ask him.” The poor man had already answered a hundred questions last evening. She’d been surprised at his patience with her son.

Her eyes took in the tourist log cabins where she saw cars parked. Many of the outbuildings were farther away. Last night, Carson had pointed out the ranch manager’s complex with homes and bunkhouses. He’d mentioned a shed for machinery and hay, a calving barn, horse barn and corrals, but it had been too dark to pick everything out. To Tracy the hundred-year-old ranch resembled a small city.

At least a dozen vehicles, from trucks, vans, and four-wheel-drives to a Jeep without a top and several cars, were parked at the rear of the ranch house. She kept walking with Johnny to the front, admiring the workmanship and the weathered timbers. The house had several decks, with a grove of trees to the side to provide shade. The first Lundgren knew what he was doing, to stake out his claim in this paradise.

They rounded the corner and walked up the steps to the entrance. An office was located to the left of the rustic foyer. At a glance to the right, the huge great room with a stone fireplace led into a big dining room with wagon-wheel chandeliers.

“Hi! Can I help you?”

Johnny walked over to the college-aged girl behind the counter. “Hi! We’re waiting for Carson.”

The friendly brunette leaned over to smile at him. “You must be Johnny Baretta from Ohio.”

“Yup. What’s your name?”

“Susan. Anything you need, you ask me. Mr. Lundgren told me to tell you to go right on through to the dining room and he’d meet you there.”

“Thank you,” Tracy spoke for both of them.

“Welcome to the ranch, Mrs. Baretta.”

“We’re thrilled to be here. Come on, honey.”

They were almost to the dining room when a handsome, fit-looking man, probably Carson’s age and height, came forward. Though he wore a plaid shirt and jeans, with his shorter cropped black hair she could imagine him in Marine gear. His brown eyes played over her with male interest before they lit on Johnny.

“I’m Ross Livingston, Carson’s friend. You must be the brave guy who ate a buffalo burger last night.”

“Well...” He looked at Tracy. “Not all of it,” Johnny answered honestly. “It was too big.”

“I know, and I’m impressed you got through most of it.”

Tracy laughed and he joined her, provoking the same kind of cough she’d heard come out of Carson. “Excuse me,” he said after it had subsided. “It’s not contagious in case you were worried.”

“We’re not. Carson already explained.”

“Good. He got detained on the phone, but he should be here in a minute. Come into the dining room with me, Johnny, and we’ll get you served.”

They followed him. “Do you know if they have cereal?”

“Sure. What kind do you like?”

“Froot Loops.”

“You’re in luck.”

“Goody!”

Tracy refrained from bursting his bubble. Tomorrow they’d choose something else.

Ross guided them across dark, vintage hardwood floors in keeping with the Western flavor to an empty table with a red-and-white-checked cloth. A vase of fresh white daisies had been placed on each table. She found this setting charming.

When he helped them to be seated, he took a chair and handed them Saturday’s menu from the holder. “In a minute the waitress will come to take your order.”

She scanned the menu.

“Mom? Do they have hot chocolate?”

Tracy couldn’t lie. “Yes.”

“Then that’s what I want with my cereal.”

“I’ll let you have it if you’ll eat some meat. There’s sausage, bacon or ham.”

“And brook trout,” Ross interjected, smiling into her eyes as he said it.

She chuckled. “I think after the buffalo burger, we’ll hold off on the fish for another day.”

As he broke into laughter, the waitress came to the table, but she hadn’t come alone. Their host had arrived without his hat, wearing another Western shirt in a tan color. The chiseled angles of his hard-boned features drew her gaze for the second time in twelve hours. He was all male.

“Carson!”

“Hey, partner—” He sat down next to Ross and made the introductions.

“Where’s your hat?”

“I’ll put it on after breakfast.”

“I want to keep mine on.”

“Except that it might be hard to eat with it,” Tracy declared. “Let me put it on the empty chair until after.”

“Okay.”

The waitress took their orders and left.

Ross got up from the table. “Hey, Johnny, while you’re waiting for your food, I’ll take you out to the foyer and show you something amazing before I leave. Since I’ve already eaten, I have a group of guests waiting for me to take them fishing.”

“What is it?” Ross had aroused his curiosity.

“Come with me and see.”

“I’ll be right back, Mom.”

“Okay.”

As they walked away, she heard Ross say, “I’m glad you came, Johnny. We’re going to have a lot of fun while you and your mom are here.”

“Your friend is nice,” Tracy told Carson.

He studied her features for a moment, seeming to reflect on what she’d said. “He’s the best. Right now he’s showing Johnny the big moose head that was mounted years before I was born. It’s the granddaddy of them all, but you don’t see it until you’re leaving to go outside.”

“He’s fascinated by the big animals.”

“Did your husband hunt, or any of your family?”

“No.”

“I’ve never been much of a hunter, either, but my grandfather allowed licensed hunters to use the land during the hunting season, so I do, too. I much prefer to see the elk and deer alive. There’s great opportunity here to photograph the animals. I’ll show Johnny lots of spots. He can hide in the trees and take pictures of squirrels and rabbits, all the cute little forest creatures.”

“He’ll go crazy.”

“That’s the idea.”

To her consternation, Tracy found herself studying his rugged features and looked away. “There’s so much to do here, it’s hard to know where to start. When I read your brochure on the internet, I couldn’t believe it.”

He had an amazing white smile. “Most people can’t do it all. They find something they love and stick to it. That’ll be the trick with Johnny. We’ll try him out on several things and see what he likes most.”

“Mom—” He came running back into the dining room, bringing her back to the present. “You’ve got to see this moose! It’s humongous!” That was Cory’s favorite word.

“I promise I’ll get a look at it when we go outside.”

“Its head is as big as the Pierce’s minicar!”

Carson threw back his head and laughed so hard, everyone in the room looked over. As for Tracy, she felt his rich male belly laugh clear through her stomach to her toes. The laugh set off another of his coughing spells. His blue eyes zeroed in on her. “Who are the Pierces?”

“Our neighbors down the street in Sandusky.”

Johnny sat back down. “Ross thinks he looks like a supersize Bullwinkle.”

“He’s that, all right.”

Tracy smiled at him. “I have a feeling you and Ross are both big teases. Can I presume your other friend is just as bad?”

“He has his moments,” he drawled. “You’ll meet Buck tomorrow when he’s back from taking some guests on an overnight campout.”

“Can we go on one of those?”

Carson’s brilliant blue gaze switched to Johnny. “I’m planning on it.”

Johnny’s face lit up. “I want to see that elk with the giant antlers.”

“You liked that picture?”

“Yeah. It was awesome.”

“I couldn’t agree more, but I don’t know if he’s still around. My grandpa took that picture a few years ago. Tell you what. When we’re out driving and hiking, we’ll look for him.”

The waitress came with their food. Tracy’s omelet was superb. She ate all of it and was gratified to see Johnny finish his ham. Carson put away steak and eggs, then got up from the table.

“Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you out in front in the Jeep. We’ll drive over to the barn.” He coughed for a moment. “Normally we’d walk, but I’m planning to give you a tour of the property after your riding lesson. It’ll save time. The restrooms are down the hall from the front desk.”

“Thank you. The breakfast was delicious by the way.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He turned to leave.

“See you in a minute, Carson! Don’t forget your hat!”

That kid made him chuckle. He’d done a lot of it since last evening. More than he’d done in a long time.

He walked through the doors to the kitchen and nodded to the staff. After putting some bottled water and half a dozen oranges and plums in a bag, he headed down another hall to the bedroom for his Stetson.

Making certain he had his cell on him, he headed out the rear door of the ranch with more energy than usual. Susan would phone him if there were any problems. After stashing the bag in the backseat, he started the engine and took off.

Try as he might, when he drove around the gravel drive to the front, he couldn’t take his eyes off Tracy Baretta. From the length of her sinuous body to her blond hair gleaming in the morning sun, she was a knockout. But she didn’t seem to know it. That was part of her attraction.

“There’s nothing wrong with looking,” his grandfather used to say to him. “But if a woman’s off-limits, then that’s the way you keep it.” Carson had adopted that motto and it had kept him out of a hell of a lot of trouble.

This woman was Tony Baretta’s widow and still grieving for him.

Shut it off, Lundgren.

Johnny started toward him. “Can I ride in front with you?”

“You bet.” He jumped out and went around to open both doors for them, trying to take his own advice as he helped Tracy into the backseat.

Once they got going, Johnny let out a whoop of excitement. “I’ve never ridden in a Jeep before. This is more fun than riding on a fire engine.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“It’s true!”

Carson glanced at him. “I’ve never been on one.”

“If you come back to Ohio, my uncles will let you go on their ladder truck.”

“Sounds pretty exciting. But wait till you ride a horse. You’ll love it so much, you won’t want to do anything else.”

“What’s your horse’s name?”

“I’ve had a lot of them. My latest one is a gelding named Blueberry. He’s a blue roan.”

Johnny giggled. “You have a blue horse?”

“Seeing’s believing. Wait till you meet your palomino. She’s a creamy gold color with a white mane and tail.” Almost as beautiful as your mother. “Have you thought of a name yet?”

“No.”

“That’s okay. It’ll come to you.”

They headed for the barn. He’d talked to Bert ahead of time. The pony had been put in the corral so Johnny would see it first off. He drove the Jeep around till they came to the entrance to the corral. There stood the pony in the sun. Carson stopped the Jeep.

“Oh, Johnny—look at that adorable pony!”

The boy stared for the longest time before scrambling out of the front seat. He’d left his mustang behind.

“Wait!” His mother hurried after him, but he’d already reached the fencing before she caught up to him.

Carson joined them. “Isn’t she a little beauty?”

Johnny’s head jerked toward him. The excitement on his face was worth a thousand words. “I’m going to call her Goldie.”

“That’s the perfect name for her.” The pony walked right over to them. “Good morning, Goldie. This is Johnny. He’s flown a long way to meet you.”

Carson lifted the boy so he could reach over the railing. “You notice that pretty white marking? That’s her forelock. Watch what happens when I rub it. She’s gentle and likes being touched.”

The pony nickered and nudged closer. “See?”

Johnny giggled and carefully put out his hand to imitate Carson’s gesture. He got the same reaction from Goldie who moved her head up and down, nickering more intensely this time.

“She loves it and wants you to do it some more.”

As he patted the horse with increasing confidence, Tracy flashed Carson a smile. It came from her eyes as well as her mouth. That was a first.

He dragged his glance away with reluctance. “Come into the barn with me, Johnny. We’ll go in the tack room to pick out her saddle.”

“Tack room?”

Carson shared another smile with Tracy. “It’s a room where we keep the saddles and bridles for the horses.”

“Oh.” Johnny jumped down. “We’ll be right back, Mom.”

Carson had a hunch the boy was hooked. You never knew. Some kids showed little interest or were too scared and didn’t want to ride. This little guy was tough. Like his father.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Johnny asked a dozen questions while they gathered everything, impressing Carson with his bright mind that wanted to learn. This was a new world for Carson who, as an adult, had never spent time taking care of anyone’s child. He found Johnny totally entertaining and quite wonderful.

As a kid, Carson had grown up around the children whose parents worked on the ranch, and of course, the neighbor’s kids. A couple of the boys, including his best friend Jean-Paul, wanted to be rodeo champions. So did Carson, whose grandfather had been a champion and taught him everything he knew.

In between chores and school, they’d spent their free time on the back of a horse, learning how to be bulldoggers and bull riders. As they grew older there were girls, and later on women, prize money and championships. But it still wasn’t enough. He’d wanted to get out and see the world. He’d joined the Marines on a whim, wanting a new arena.

Through it all, Carson had taken and taken, never giving anything back. The pain over his own selfishness would never go away, but Johnny’s enthusiasm wouldn’t allow him time to wallow in it.

He carried the equipment to the corral and put the bridle on Goldie. Johnny stood by him, watching in fascination. “Here you go. Hold the reins while I get her saddled.”

The pony moved forward and nudged Johnny. He laughed and was probably scared to death, but he held on. “She likes you or she wouldn’t do that. You’ll get used to it.”

Carson threw on the blanket, then the saddle. “Okay. Now I’d like you to walk around the corral leading Goldie. Just walk normally, holding on to the reins. She’ll follow. It will help her to learn to trust you, because she’s nervous. Do you want me to walk with you, or do you want to do it yourself?”

He thought for a minute. “I can do it.”

“Fine.”

The whole time this went on, Carson was aware of his mother watching in silence from the fence as her brave son did a slow walk around the enclosure without a misstep. At one point she took some pictures with her cell phone.

“Great job, Johnny. Now walk her to that feeding bag. Dig in and pull out a handful of oats. If you hold them out to her with your hand flat, she’ll eat them without hurting you, but it’ll tickle.”

Johnny laughed nervously, but he did what Carson told him to do. In a minute he was giggling while the pony enjoyed her treat. “It feels funny.” He heard Tracy laugh from the sidelines.

“You’ve made a friend for life, Johnny. Think you’re ready to get up on her?” The boy nodded. “Okay.” Now the next lesson was about to begin. “I’m going to seat you in the saddle, then I’ll adjust the stirrups.” Carson lifted him. “You hold on to the reins and the pommel. Are you all right? I know it seems a long way up. Did you ever fall off the tricky bars at school?”

“Yes.”

“Well, this is a lot safer because you’ve got this pony under you and she loves you. She doesn’t want you to fall. Okay if I let go of you?”

“Okay,” he said in a shaky voice.

Carson took a few steps back, ready to catch him if he suddenly wanted to get off. But he didn’t. “Good man.”

“You look like a real cowboy!” his mother called out. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks.”

Moving to the front of the pony Carson said, “I’m going to take hold of the bridle and walk Goldie. You keep holding on to the pommel so you can feel what it’s like to ride her. Does that sound okay to you?”

Johnny nodded, but was biting his lip.

“We’ll only go a few feet, then we’ll stop.”

“Okay,” the boy murmured.

Carson started to walk. Goldie cooperated. When he stopped, she stopped. “How did that feel? Do you want to keep going?”

“Yes.”

“Good for you. I’ve seen ten-year-olds out here who started bawling their heads off for their moms about now.” He moved again and just kept going until they’d circled the corral. “You just passed your first lesson with flying colors, Johnny.” He heard clapping and cheers from Tracy.

A big smile broke out on his face. “Thanks. Can I go around by myself now?”

That’s what he’d been hoping to hear, but you never knew. “Why not? Let me show you how to hold the reins. If she goes too fast, just pull back on them a little. Ready?” He nodded.

“I’m going to give Goldie a little tap on her hind quarters to get her going. Okay?”

“Yup.”

Suddenly they were off at the same speed as before, but without his help. Carson walked over to the fence where Tracy was hanging over it.

“Hey—I’m doing it. I’m riding!” he cried out.

“You sure are,” she called back. “I can’t believe it!”

“It’s easy, Mom.” He circled one more time. “Now it’s your turn.”

Carson saw the expression on her face and chuckled. “Yeah, Mom. It’s easy. Now it’s time for you. Better not let your son show you up.”

“He already has. I’m quaking in my new leather boots.”

“I shivered my first time, too, but I promise it will be okay. Annie’s a gentle, sure-footed mare.”

She got down off the fence and walked around to enter the corral. Carson waited until Goldie had come up to him before he removed the boy’s feet from the stirrups and pulled him off. “Give her a rub on the forelock, then she’ll know you had a good time.”

Johnny did his bidding without any hesitation. “Can I give her some more oats?”

“Of course.” He handed him the reins. “Go ahead. You know what to do.”

While he walked her over to the feed bag, Carson called to Bert to bring out Annie, and then he made the introductions. “Bert Rawlins, this is Tracy Baretta. Bert has been running the stable for years.”

Tracy shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, ma’am. Annie’s saddled and ready to go.”

Carson reached for the reins and handed them to Tracy. “Let’s see how good a teacher I am.”

There was more green than gray in her eyes today. They were suspiciously bright. “You already know. My son’s over there feeding that pony like he’s been living on this ranch for a month.”

Nothing could have pleased Carson more. He watched her move in front of the bay and rub her forelock. She nickered on cue.

“This is my first time, Annie. Don’t let me down.” Pulling on the reins, she started walking around the corral just as her son had done.

Carson decided the brown horse with the black mane and tail provided the perfect foil for her gleaming blond hair. When she came around, he helped her into the saddle and adjusted her stirrups. “Would you like me to walk you around?”

“I think I’ll be all right.” What did they say about a mother walking into a burning building for her child?

He handed her the reins and gave the horse’s rump a tap. Annie knew what to do and started walking. Halfway around the arena, Carson knew Tracy would be all right.

“Hey, Mom—it’s fun, huh?”

“It will be when I’ve had a few more lessons.”

Annie kept walking toward Carson. He looked up at Tracy. “Want to go around one more time, pulling on the reins to the right or left?”

“Sure.”

He was sure she didn’t, but she was game.

“This time, give her a nudge with your heels and she’ll go.”

The second she made contact, Annie started out. It surprised Tracy, knocking her off balance, but she righted herself in a hurry.

“If she’s going too fast, pull on the reins and she’ll slow down.”

Little by little she made it around the enclosure, urging the horse in one direction, then another.

“You’re doing great, Mom!”

“You both are. I think that will be all for today.”

Carson signaled Bert to take care of the horses. “Come on, Johnny.” He walked over to help Tracy, but she was too quick for him. She flung her leg over and got down on her own. Whether she did it without thinking or didn’t want help, he didn’t know.

“Are we going for a Jeep ride now?”

“Would you like that, partner?”

“Yes. Then can we come back to see Goldie? I think she’ll miss me.”

Johnny was showing the first signs of a horse lover. Either it was in you, or it wasn’t. “I’m sure she will.”

The three of them got back in the Jeep. For the next hour, he gave them a tour of the property so they could get their bearings. Johnny talked up a storm while a quieter Tracy sat back and took in the sights. As they neared the ranch house, his cell phone rang. The caller ID indicated it was the district ranger for the Bridger-Teton National Forest.

“Excuse me for a minute. I have to take this,” he said to them before answering. “Dave? What’s up?”

“There’s a man-made fire started up on the western edge of the forest bordering your property.”

Carson grimaced. Tourist season always brought on a slew of forest fires.

“I’ve assembled two crews and am asking for any volunteers who can help stamp it out to meet up at the shadow rock trailhead,” Dave continued. “There’s not much wind. I think we can contain it before it spreads.”

Before hanging up, Carson said, “I’ll rustle up as many of the hands as I can and we’ll be there shortly.”

This would happen today, of all days. The hell of it was, with his disease, he didn’t dare help fight the fire. Smoke was his enemy. All he could do was bring help and wear his oxygen apparatus.

Johnny looked at him. “Do you think I can take another ride on Goldie after dinner? I want to turn her in different directions and do stuff with her.”

“I suppose that’s up to your mother.” Carson’s gaze flicked to Tracy. “Did you hear that, Mom? What do you say?”


Chapter Three

Tracy heard it. In fact, she heard and saw so many things already, she was starting to experience turmoil. Johnny was eating up all the attention Carson showered on him. It would continue nonstop until next Saturday when they flew home.

With all their own family and work responsibilities, none of Johnny’s uncles could give him this kind of time. Not even Tony had spent every waking hour with their son in the due course of a day. No father did, unless they were on vacation. Even then there were other distractions.

Few fathers had the skills or showed the infinite patience of this ex-marine rancher who seemed to be going above and beyond any expectations. He had to be a dream come true for her son, who’d been emotionally starving for a male role model since Tony’s death.

When she’d accepted the invitation to come to the ranch, she hadn’t realized these former soldiers would spend their own personal time this way. She had assumed the ranch staff would offer activities to entertain them. Period.

This was different.

Carson was different.

By giving Johnny that photo of his father, Carson had formed a bond with her son that wasn’t going to go away. Carson might not see what was happening, but every moment invested for Johnny’s sake increased her son’s interest.

Tracy couldn’t allow that to happen. Before long they’d be leaving this place, never to return. Johnny was still dealing with his father’s death. They didn’t need another crisis after they got home. She had to do something quickly to fix things before he got too attached to this incredible man. Tracy had to acknowledge that, so far, he was incredible, which was exactly what made her so uneasy.




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