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The Cowboy's Homecoming
Carolyne Aarsen
The Cowboy's ReunionSeeking redemption from his troubled past, cowboy Lee Bannister returns to his Montana hometown. He's not looking for love–just to prove he's not the same reckless guy who broke Abby Newton's heart and destroyed her family. But when Abby, a magazine photographer, is assigned to cover the story of his family ranch's 150th anniversary, old feelings start to resurface. He knows Abby will never forgive him. But as they spend more time together, they begin to discover the lies that kept them apart…and that some reunions are meant to last forever.


The Cowboy’s Reunion
Seeking redemption from his troubled past, cowboy Lee Bannister returns to his Montana hometown. He’s not looking for love—just to prove he’s not the same reckless guy who broke Abby Newton’s heart and destroyed her family. But when Abby, a magazine photographer, is assigned to cover the story of his family ranch’s 150th anniversary, old feelings start to resurface. He knows Abby will never forgive him. But as they spend more time together, they begin to discover the lies that kept them apart…and that some reunions are meant to last forever.
Lee knew he had to face reality.
“I know it’s too late and I know that words are easy, but I want to tell you that I’m so sorry for what I did to your father,” he said. “I wish…I wish I could turn back time. Do it over again.”
Abby glanced at him. “You’re not the only one who wishes that.”
The bitterness in her voice made him wait a beat to give the moment some weight.
“My father spent a lot of time struggling with pain,” she continued. “He was a broken man after that. My parents’ marriage couldn’t hold together. What you did to my family…me and my brother—” She stopped there, holding up her hand as if trying to stop the memories.
Lee knew he deserved every bit of her derision, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t hurt by it.
At one time Abby had been important to him. Her poor opinion of him hurt almost as much as the loss of his freedom.
“I better go,” she said quietly.
But he wished she’d stay.
CAROLYNE AARSEN and her husband, Richard, live on a small ranch in northern Alberta, where they have raised four children and numerous foster children and are still raising cattle. Carolyne crafts her stories in an office with a large west-facing window, through which she can watch the changing seasons while struggling to make her words obey.
THE COWBOY’S
HOMECOMING
Carolyne Aarsen


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.
—Colossians 3:13
For all those who struggle with hurts
and forgiveness.
Contents
Cover (#u25dfd081-b9f0-5e34-a534-7c61332b0771)
Back Cover Text (#ub3c38112-4f2d-5cf5-8c29-9fa70aba1b00)
Introduction (#ub18aa3d9-2e76-5dca-836a-d1fe9ed888ec)
About the Author (#ue47b3ff7-fe3c-585e-999e-0822c6634cbd)
Title Page (#uc16204da-c5fb-5644-a2d0-3ba299cd8886)
Bible Verse (#u9a110bd4-56fc-5031-b6ee-a823f793cea0)
Dedication (#u55a26b76-eb43-5c0e-961b-2f36f1cd7eff)
Chapter One (#ua1fecba1-596d-5de5-ac90-32aef90f3147)
Chapter Two (#u8ff37ade-77d6-5617-997d-76395484ab6a)
Chapter Three (#u5f19d314-4159-591e-87b3-b16017acc7b6)
Chapter Four (#u479252e9-a9e5-58b4-9b6d-b79946aab0be)
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)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_80ec50ac-53ec-5b3c-b111-bf41d22858e3)
All he needed was a few more minutes. A slice of time to make the shift from Lee Bannister, ex-con, to Lee Bannister—wayward son coming home.
And he knew exactly where to get it.
Lee feathered the brakes of his pickup as his eyes scanned the ditch to his right. It had been years since he was in this part of Montana, but when he rounded another curve, he saw the grass-covered approach he’d been looking for. Coming to a full stop, he could just make out the twin tracks of a road heading through a break in the trees. He parked his truck, two wheels well into the ditch so that any motorist cresting the hill could easily pass it.
Once he stepped out, he took a moment to appreciate the warm summer sun beating down on his head, the melody of the blackbirds twittering in the aspen trees.
The air held the tang of pine and warm grass and he let it seep through him as he walked the overgrown trail. Every muffled fall of his boots on the grass eased away the clang and clamor of rig work that surrounded him every waking hour.
He ducked, brushing aside a branch that almost slapped him in the face, looking forward to the solitude and the view at the end of the trail. Few people knew about the lookout point he was headed to. Only his sisters and his parents and a couple of the guys Lee had partied with in high school.
Lee pushed the thought back. Though he knew other bits of history would crowd in on his consciousness during this trip back to the ranch, he intended not to jog too many memories of the past while he was here. He had come to help his sister celebrate her wedding and his parents commemorate the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the ranch. And that was it. He had no desire to reminisce about the good old days with any of his friends.
He stepped over a fallen tree and skirted another tangle of small brush. A few more steps and he stopped, breathing deeply.
It was as if the world had fallen away below his feet.
Granite mountains, solid and stately, their jagged peaks still etched with winter snow, cradled the basin below him, simultaneously creating a majesty and a sense of security.
The Saddle River unspooled below him, a winding ribbon of silver meandering through the valley as poplar and spruce trees crowded its banks. To his left lay the town of Saddlebank, its streets dotted with trees and paralleling the railroad that followed the river. From here he could make out Main Street with its brick buildings and, in the dead center of town, Mercy Park with its requisite memorial and gazebo. Past the park and above the trees, he could see the steeple of Saddle Community Church to one side, the cross and bell of the Catholic church on the other. Beyond Saddlebank and to his right, the rest of the valley was taken up with ranches—one of which, Refuge Ranch, was his final destination.
But not yet.
Lee drew another long, slow breath, letting the utter peace and splendor of the view feed his wounded and weary soul.
“Then sings my soul,” he whispered, lowering himself to a large rock worn smooth by the winds that could bluster through the valley.
The words of an old hymn that his father would sing when they were outside, working on the ranch, returned. He let his mind sift back, let the recollections he struggled so hard to keep at bay wash over him.
In prison, the memories had hurt too much. The contrast between the confines of a drab cell and the mind-numbing routine, to this space and emptiness and peace hurt too much, so he kept the disparate parts of his life compartmentalized in order to survive.
Now he’d been out for five years and he still never took for granted the ability to go to bed when he wanted. Get up when he wanted. Eat what he wanted and do what he wanted when work was over.
Lee sighed. He knew coming back here would be bittersweet. It would be both a reminder of what he’d lost because of his irresponsibility, but also a reminder of what had always been available to him. Family, community and the unconditional love of his parents and, most important, his sustaining relationship with God.
He let his eyes drift over a view that he had, for so many years, considered home. His soul grew still as the view filled an emptiness that had haunted him for so long.
Then a rustle in the branches of the large pine tree behind him caught his attention. He cocked his head, listening as he slowly turned. Something large was hiding in the branches above him. Black bear, or worse, a cougar?
Heart pounding, he thumbed his cowboy hat back on his head, scanning the tree, planning what to do. Run? Stay and stand down whatever wild animal was perched in the tree?
Then he heard a cough just as a backpack fell with a thump to the ground in front of him, followed by an angry exclamation.
“Who’s there?” he called out, still feeling that intense jolt of adrenaline surging through his veins.
“Just me,” a female voice returned.
The branches rustled again and Lee caught sight of a pair of feet in sandals searching for a branch. Then he saw legs scrabbling for purchase, hands flailing.
A cry of dismay pierced the air and Lee ran closer just as a woman plummeted out of the tree.
He caught her, but they were a tangle of legs and arms as they tumbled to the ground, breaking her fall. A camera, hanging around her neck, swung around and cracked him on the head.
They lay like that a moment as Lee’s ears rang and his head throbbed from the impact of the camera.
Finally the woman pushed herself away from him and scrambled to her feet.
Lee blinked as he tried to orient himself. He slowly stood frowning at the woman in front of him, who seemed more concerned about her camera than herself, or him, for that matter.
Her hair was tucked up in a ball cap, and a large pair of sunglasses was perched on a nose sprinkled with freckles. She wore khaki shorts, a white tank top now smeared with dirt and a brown vest with numerous zipped and buttoned pockets. She pulled a cloth out of one of them and was wiping down the body of her camera.
The woman looked familiar, but he couldn’t immediately place her.
“Everything okay?” he asked, gingerly touching his forehead. His hand came away tinged with blood, so he pulled a handkerchief out of the back pocket of his blue jeans and dabbed at it.
“I think so,” she murmured, tucking the cloth in her chest pocket. “The body looks good, but I’ll have to check the inside later.”
“I meant with you.”
She finally looked up at him and lifted her chin in a defensive move. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. “You didn’t need to catch me, you know. I would have been okay. Are you okay?”
“You might have broken a leg,” he returned, the sharp pain in his head settling in to a dull ache as he ignored her question. He gestured toward a long red scrape on the inside of her wrist. “You might want to get that looked at, as well. You don’t want it to get infected.”
She lifted her arm and gave it a cursory glance. “It’s fine.” She looked back at him. “Looks like you got a nasty cut on your head, though.”
“It’s fine too.”
“Awesome. Blood’s streaming down your face, I’ve got a scrape that is just starting to hurt...but we’re both okay.” She waggled her fingers as if to make sure they were still functioning, and then she gave him a self-deprecating smile. “Again, sorry about that. I should have been more careful—and I wasn’t very grateful for your help.”
“Apology accepted.” Lee returned her look for look, his own brain trying to place her familiarly beautiful features, or what he could see of her face, half-hidden by the sunglasses. “And at least you’re not the bear or cougar I thought you were.”
She angled him a mischievous smile as she bent over to pick up the knapsack that had been the first victim. “Didn’t think I was old enough to be a cougar.”
Too late Lee caught the implied insult he had given her. “No. Sorry, I meant the cat. Mountain lion might have been a better designation.”
She smiled again and Lee couldn’t stop a twinge of attraction. She was an intriguing combination of pretty and striking.
“Do we know each other?” he asked, trying to tweak out a memory that seemed to elude him.
“I can’t believe a good-looking guy like you doesn’t have better lines,” she quipped as she slipped her camera in her bag.
“Chalk it up to being out of practice,” he returned.
“So you decided to practice on me?”
He laughed, surprised at how easy she was to be around for someone he just met. “Sorry. My dad always said clichés are the tool of the lazy mind.”
Her answering chuckle as she put her camera back in the knapsack created a tremor of awareness and behind that a flutter of familiarity. Not too many people knew about this place.
Why was she up in the tree and how had she gotten here? No vehicle was parked at the end of the trail.
She stood, slinging the bag over her shoulder, and it seemed she was looking at him, as if she was trying to figure out who he was.
Which was precisely what he was doing.
Then, as she pulled her sunglasses off, she knocked her hat off her head and her auburn hair tumbled to her shoulders, her amber eyes fringed with thick lashes were revealed, and reality followed like a Montana snowstorm as things clicked into place.
He knew exactly who she was.
Abby Newton. Daughter of Cornell Newton, the man Lee had run down with his truck after a party that had gotten out of hand. The accident had put Cornell in the hospital and Lee in jail. The shame of what he had done had kept Lee away from home for almost nine years.
Until now.
He knew the precise moment her own recognition of him clicked. She took a step back, her eyes narrowed and her impudent grin morphed into a scowl.
“Well, well,” she said, the ice in her voice making him shiver. “Lee Bannister, back from exile. I’m going to blame my slow recollection to the fall out of the tree. Didn’t think I’d ever forget your face, but then, you’ve changed since I last saw you.”
“Hey, Abby.” He tried to sound casual. Tried to ignore the mockery in her voice.
Lee hadn’t seen her since her father was awarded damages of two hundred thousand dollars and he’d been sentenced to three and a half years in prison for reckless driving under the influence. The accident he’d caused had put her father in the hospital and had created injuries that, as far as he knew, Cornell was still dealing with.
That had been over nine years ago. Lee had paid his debt to society and was still working on repaying his parents for the money they had to dole out for the settlement. His father had to downsize his cattle herd as a consequence. When Lee was released from prison, he took on a job working offshore rigs. And he sent his folks every penny he could. He hadn’t been home since.
Though Abby was a Saddlebank native as well, he had heard she was working overseas. Seeing her now was a shock and an unwelcome surprise. She reminded him of a past he’d spent years trying to atone for.
“I’m guessing you’re back for Keira’s wedding,” she said, her voice matter-of-fact, settling her hat back on her head and pulling the bill down as if to hide the anger in her gaze.
“And the anniversary celebration,” he added gruffly.
The anniversary was a big deal. Refuge Ranch was one of the few family-owned ranches that could trace their ownership back to when settlers first started in the basin. A reporter was even coming to spend time at the ranch and planned to cover the celebrations and do a feature story on it for Near and Far.
His father had warned him that he would be the one to help the guy out.
More penance, he thought. Babysitting a reporter and showing him around the ranch.
“Right,” she said, tucking her sunglasses in the pocket of her vest. “I heard about that. One hundred and fifty years of Bannisters at Refuge Ranch. Quite the heritage.”
Was she mocking him? Though he couldn’t blame her if she did. He knew he wasn’t her favorite person.
He looked back over his shoulder at the view he had hoped would give him some peace and ease him into a difficult homecoming. He didn’t think the past would be dredged up quite so quickly, however.
Help me through this, Lord, he prayed, clinging to the faith he’d returned to during those years in prison. Help me to accept what I can’t change.
He turned back to Abby, knowing he had to face reality. Trouble was, he wasn’t sure what to say or how to say it.
“I know it’s too late and I know that words are easy, but I want to tell you that I’m so sorry for what I did to your father,” he said. “I wish...I wish I could turn back time. Do it over again.”
“You’re not the only one who wishes that by any stretch.”
The bitterness in her voice made him wait a beat to give the moment some weight.
“My father spent a lot of time struggling with pain,” she continued. “He was a broken man after that accident. My parents’ marriage couldn’t hold together. What you did to my family...me and my brother—” She stopped there, holding up her hand as if trying to halt the memories. “Never mind. Neither of us can change anything. It’s done. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Lee knew he deserved every bit of her derision, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t hurt by it. At one time Abby had been important to him. Her poor opinion of him had been almost as agonizing as the loss of his freedom.
“I better go,” she said quietly. “I need to get back to town.”
“How?” he asked, shifting to another topic. “I didn’t see a car.”
“My friend Louisa has it. Remember her?”
“Of course. You two were joined at the hip in high school.”
“Still are, apparently. We live together in Seattle. She’s back in Saddlebank visiting her parents and she’ll be back soon.” Her words were terse and Lee guessed this conversation was over.
“Well, I hope you have a good visit with your mom,” he said. “And if I don’t see you again, take care.”
Her only reply was a curt nod. She gave him a humorless smile, then turned and walked away.
Lee dragged his hand over his face. Well, that awkward meeting was done with.
If he played his cards right, he might not have to see her again, which was fine with him.
She was a reminder of the past he had spent a lot of years trying to atone for.
* * *
“Dumb, dumb, dumb,” Abby Newton muttered as she strode through the underbrush toward the road, yanking her cell phone out of her pocket. Of all the clumsy, stupid and just plain humiliating things to happen, she had to end up falling out of a tree right on top of Lee Bannister. And then she flirted with him.
She didn’t know why her brain had been firing so slowly that it took so long for her to recognize him.
Abby swallowed hard. She blamed it on her own prejudicial memories. This guy looked nothing like the Lee Bannister she had seen swaggering out of the lawyer’s office on his way to prison, as if he couldn’t care less about destroying her family. That Lee Bannister was a slender young man with shortly cropped hair who wore a perpetual smirk and acted as if the world owed him a favor. He had always been a too-large personality in her life, but for a few months just before graduation, they had dated. She had naively thought she had tamed the wild man. Until she found out about the bet his delinquent friends had made with him about going out with her.
The shame of that could still catch her off guard from time to time.
Now it seemed that Lee’s rebellious attitude had morphed into a hardness that seemed bred into his very bones. His shoulders and chest had filled out. His hair was long, dark and framed a face with a strong chin, pronounced cheekbones and eyes enhanced by slashing dark eyebrows. In short, his features held a rugged maturity she suspected came from his time in prison and his years of manual labor after that.
For a heartbeat she felt a glimmer of sympathy.
But all it took was the memory of her father, a broken and hurting man, lying in a hospital bed to remind her that Lee could never pay enough for what he’d done to their family. Her father was a changed man after Lee hit him with his truck, drunk, on his way back from a party. The alcohol that had impaired Lee’s driving had also taken over her father’s life. He became an alcoholic, stopped working and spent days in physical pain.
Abby’s family was sundered in two when her parents divorced a year after the accident. Cornell left town and she only heard sporadically from him after that, the most recent time being a few weeks ago.
She shook off the dark memories as she strode to the road, punching in her friend’s number on her cell phone.
Abby had made her own way in the world in spite of what had happened to her family. She had put Lee and the heartbreak he had caused behind her. As if determined to prove that her life’s tragic circumstances were not going to define her, she had graduated from high school and college with honors, and then worked tirelessly to pave a thriving career for herself.
A shiny black pickup truck was parked, askew, just off the highway when she came out of the lane. She suspected it was Lee’s. Though it wasn’t the candy-apple-red truck his parents had given him in high school—the vehicle that had mowed her father down—it still looked expensive and new.
She shook her head. Some things didn’t change, she thought as she lifted her phone to her ear.
“Can you come and get me?” Abby asked when Louisa answered. She tucked her cell phone between her chin and shoulder as she dug in her backpack for her water bottle. Her mouth was dry, but she suspected that had more to do with the meeting she’d just had than the warmth of the afternoon.
“Did you get some good pictures?” her friend asked.
Abby thought of the breathtaking view, but somehow the satisfaction she had with the photos was tempered by seeing Lee Bannister. Not that she should be totally surprised. She knew she would be crossing paths with him at some time during her visit. Saddlebank was a small town after all.
Truth was, for many years she had imagined her first face-to-face meeting with Lee. But, in her thoughts, that reunion was one where she was aloof, calm and in charge of the situation.
Not falling on top of him and then flirting with him.
She had climbed the tree to get a better panorama shot of the river valley through a break she saw in the pine branches. Though it did net her some great images, in retrospect it might not have been the best decision.
“What’s your ETA?” she asked her friend.
Louisa’s sigh didn’t sound encouraging. “I’m about ten miles out yet. Jaden needed some groceries, so I said I would help him. I was on my way back to you when I got a flat tire. I’m so sorry.”
Abby suppressed an angry sigh. When she had pulled over to take some pictures, Louisa asked if she could borrow the car to drop off some things at a friend’s place only a mile down the road. Abby wanted to take her time snapping the pictures, so she had agreed. However, Louisa’s going all the way to town with her car had not been discussed.
“How did you get a flat? I just put new tires on.”
“I think I might have run over a nail at Jaden’s place. The yard is a junk heap. I just called roadside service,” Louisa said. “They can’t come for half an hour, though.”
“You can’t change it yourself?” Abby bit her lip, trying to think what to do. She had told her mother she would be there by four. It was quarter to the hour now.
“Not everyone is as self-sufficient as you, girl.”
Abby didn’t want to remind her that same self-sufficiency was a by-product of being the oldest child of a family whose father had withdrawn into alcohol. Whose mother’s bitterness over their circumstances had caused her to retreat well within herself. The day after her father’s accident, much of the responsibility of running the house, taking care of her brother, had fallen on Abby’s slender shoulders.
It had eventually taken a toll.
“Okay. I’ll see you when I see you. Maybe I can hitch a ride.” Abby tried not to get riled up at the idea that Louisa had her car and she had to hitchhike.
Skyline Trail, the name of the road she was heading down, wasn’t that busy, but it was a Friday afternoon. Surely someone would be headed to town.
“Again, I’m so sorry,” Louisa said.
She seemed to be on the receiving end of a lot of apologies today, Abby thought crossly as she ended the call.
She dropped her phone into one of the pockets of her vest and then pulled her camera out again to check it better. She frowned when she saw the tiny flecks of blood she had missed cleaning off one corner of the camera’s body.
Lee’s blood.
She stuffed the camera back in her bag. Later. She would deal with that later.
She strode to the road, then stopped, tapping her fingers on her arm trying to figure out what to do. She couldn’t sit here and wait, knowing Lee would be coming back out any moment. She’d have to hitch a ride after all. So she slipped the other strap of her backpack over her other arm and started walking, wishing she’d put on her hiking boots.
A light breeze sifted up the road, easing the heat of the sun now beating down on her. The road took a gentle turn and she was once again looking over the basin that cradled Saddlebank and the ranches surrounding it. She stopped and pulled her knapsack off, the photographer in her constantly looking for another angle, the right light as she quickly pulled her camera out. She withdrew her telephoto lens out of her bag just as she heard the growl of a truck starting up.
Lee’s truck.
There was no way she was getting a ride from him.
Her history with Lee was even older than the accident. Though that traumatic event had been the lowest point, there had been others. She had been attracted to Lee Bannister most of her life, harboring her secret crush. But Lee was part of a very wild, very cool group. He, David Fortier, son of a neighboring rancher, and Mitch Albon, son of a lawyer in town, ran around together, partying and living recklessly, flirting and teasing girls.
Lee had never paid the slightest attention to her. Then, suddenly, out of the blue, he seemed to notice her. He would chat her up, leaning against the locker beside hers, smiling that slightly mocking smile that always made her weak at the knees. When Lee had, unexpectedly, asked her to the prom, she could hardly believe her luck. Of course she had said yes. He was a senior, she a lowly sophomore. To her surprise, they had a wonderful time. And, even better, they dated a few more times after that.
It seemed too good to believe. Lee Bannister, one of the most eligible guys in the valley, was going out with her. And then it all fell apart. At a party she had attended with Lee, Mitch drew her aside and laughingly told her the truth. David Fortier had made a bet with Lee to take Abby out. It had nothing to do with any kind of attraction—it was a simple joke.
She was crushed and felt degraded. She pulled back from Lee after that, turning down his invitation to come with him to another party knowing David and Mitch would be there. Facing them would be too humiliating. Lee, angry with her, went anyway. And on the way back from that party, her father was struck down by Lee, and her life changed forever. Abby shook off the memories and quickly spun the lens on as she glanced around, looking for a place to hide, the noise from Lee’s truck growing louder. The ditch was a broad expanse of grass; the trees on the edge could offer her a hiding place. She snatched up her knapsack and started running.
But the sandals that were unsuitable for a long trek were even more unsuitable for running.
The toe of the sandal caught on a bottle hidden by the grass. She faltered, windmilling her arms, trying to maintain her balance, but gravity and momentum won out over will. Her knapsack flew in one direction, her hat another, and then her foot twisted under her, hit something sharp and she fell, chest down, on the grassy verge. Right on top of her sunglasses.
Of course. Why not?
Abby wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Two clumsy mishaps in the space of twenty minutes and both in front of the man she wanted to avoid as long as possible.
She lay there a moment, hoping that Lee wouldn’t see her sprawled out on the grass. But then his truck slowed and stopped, and when he turned off the ignition, she couldn’t hide. So she slowly rose to her feet and then stumbled as pain shot through her leg.
She looked down, dismayed to see blood pouring out of a cut in her ankle. She shifted and saw the culprit. The broken bottle.
Good thing her tetanus shots were up to date.
She reached out for her knapsack, more concerned about the well-being of her camera than her injury.
“You okay?” she heard Lee call out as he came down the ditch toward her.
“I just fell,” she said, sucking in a quick breath through her clenched teeth as she dug through her bag to find something to stop the bleeding.
“You’re not okay,” he muttered, clutching her ankle. “You got anything for this?”
“In my bag. A lens-cleaning cloth.”
He was too close. The vague scent of woodsy aftershave and the touch of his hand made her want to pull away. Then Lee bent down beside her and lifted her foot, cradling it in one hand while wrapping the cloth she had given him around it.
His head was inches from hers. His thick brown hair had a slight wave and curled around the collar of his striped shirt. His hands were gentle, but to Abby each touch felt like a brand.
Then he looked up at her, his gaze holding hers, his eyes narrowed. His eyes weren’t brown, she thought absently, suddenly feeling as if she couldn’t breathe. She saw a hint of bronze in the lines around his iris. His lashes were dark; his eyebrows darker still, meeting like a slash across a narrow nose.
If anything he was even more handsome than she remembered.
“I have a first-aid kit in my truck,” he said, turning his attention back to her ankle. “We need to take care of this. Don’t move.”
“Okay. Sure.” She felt angry at her sudden breathlessness, frustrated with her reaction to him. She blamed it on the old, high school emotions he too easily reawakened in her.
As he left she shook her head, the pain in her ankle battling for attention with the humiliation of falling not once, but twice in front of the one man she had hoped to face with some measure of dignity.
With a light sigh she leaned back, closing her eyes against another wave of pain, once again resenting Lee Bannister. If it weren’t for meeting him again, she wouldn’t have tried to run away.
It’s your own fault, her more rational voice reminded her. You didn’t need to act so silly. Like you always acted around him.
Her cheeks burned as hotly as her hurting ankle as older memories assailed her. Times in high school that she would sit on the sidelines of his football game, pretending she was snapping action pictures of the team for the school yearbook when, in fact, she was trying to get the perfect shot of him to keep for herself.
He destroyed your father’s life.
She shook her head as if to put her memories in their proper place and order. Her foolish feelings for her high school crush should have been swept away by his actions both in high school and shortly after graduation.
And yet they hadn’t been completely. It was that irony that created an ongoing struggle in her soul. He was the enemy and the first boy she had ever truly cared for all wrapped in one far too appealing package.
Help me, Lord, she prayed. Help me to put this all in perspective. Help me to keep my head clear until he’s gone. He’s taken up too much of my thoughts already.
She winced as she shifted her leg and another shard of pain shot through her ankle, but she reminded herself that she only had to get through the next half hour. Then she would be back with Louisa, and Lee could go back to being a footnote in her life.
He returned with a first-aid kit that he set down on the grass as he knelt down at her feet. Then he opened the tin and looked up at her again.
And her crazy heart did another silly flip.
“You should probably take your sandal off,” he advised, his deep voice quiet as he rummaged through the first-aid kit.
She nodded, bracing herself as she leaned forward to unbuckle her sandal.
“This will probably hurt,” he said, ripping open an antiseptic cloth and dabbing it on the cut once her sandal was removed.
She grimaced and he muttered an apology, but soon the cut was cleaned out. It wasn’t deep.
“I don’t think you’ll need stitches,” he murmured. “But you might want to have it looked at anyway.” He pulled a bandage out of the first-aid kit.
“I can put that on,” she said, reaching for the bandage, but she dropped it when he handed it to her and then it took her a few moments to get the packaging off.
Relax. Settle down,she told herself. But she was all thumbs and managed to paste the bandage to itself.
“Can I?” Lee asked, taking another bandage out of the tin.
Abby wanted to say no, but she was tired of looking clumsy in front of him, so she just nodded.
His hands were large, but his movements were confident and sure. He gently pressed the edges of the bandage down, then lifted his gaze to look at her.
“I hope this doesn’t handicap you, he said, sitting back on his heels. “You were in quite a rush to photograph whatever it was you wanted.”
She could have pounced on the out he had given her, but for some reason she couldn’t lie. “Actually I wasn’t running to get a picture. I was trying to hide from you. I thought you would probably stop and offer me a ride...and I didn’t want to take you up on it.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Well, guess you’re stuck with getting a ride from me after all,” he said as he helped her to her feet.
Abby leaned over to pick up her backpack and her sandal, not bothering to reply. But he grabbed both before she could. Then he held out his arm to help her, but she hesitated to take it.
“You’ll fall again if you don’t let me help you,” he warned.
Abby saw the wisdom in this, then hooked her arm through his and let him lead her up the hill to his truck, the grass prickling her one bare foot.
She was far too aware of his arm holding her up, him walking alongside her. At one time this would have been a dream come true for her. At another it would have been her worst nightmare and a complete betrayal of everything that had happened to her family.
She closed her eyes, praying once again.
Just get through this, she reminded herself as he helped her into his truck. Get through this and you won’t have to see him again until it’s time for you to leave.
Chapter Two (#ulink_65e3d654-ee86-559e-9656-7849cde3e9af)
Lee put the truck in gear, glanced over his shoulder and pulled onto the road.
He looked over at his passenger, but she was bent over, slipping her sandal on and buckling it loosely. They drove in silence for a mile or so and then he stole another glimpse of her. Now she was crouching on her side of the cab, holding her knapsack like a shield.
She clearly would have preferred to be anywhere but in the cab of his truck.
“I’m not a reckless driver anymore,” he said, trying not to sound annoyed.
Abby shot him a quick look. “I hope not.” She was silent a moment, then lifted her chin, staring directly at him. “It’s just that I haven’t seen you since that day—”
“That day at the lawyer’s,” he finished for her. He gazed back at the road again, pressing his lips together as the past, once again, dropped into the present. The night of the accident was a blur to him. He blamed his drinking that night on the fact that he thought Abby, the best thing that had ever happened to him, didn’t want to date him. She was supposed to have come to the party with him, but she had phoned and told him not to bother calling her again. Whatever they had going, was over. She didn’t tell him why.
All he remembered of that night was dropping his keys on the way out of the party.
The very next memory was of coming to behind the wheel of his truck, which had plowed into a tree, and a police officer asking him if he knew his name.
He suppressed a shudder at the flashbacks that always followed. Being taken away in the cruiser. Finding out that his truck had struck Abby’s father before it hit the tree. His parents coming to see him in the jail. The horror and the regret and the twisting guilt. Dealings with the lawyers and the subsequent prison sentence. He relived that night of the party every day for the first year after it happened, wishing he could turn back time.
Part of him wanted to ask Abby why she broke up with him before the party, but given the events that had fragmented their lives, it seemed petty.
“Looks like you’re still taking pictures,” he remarked, trying to fill the oppressive silence between them. At one time he had cared about her and thought she cared about him. Maybe, in spite of what happened, they could find some point of connection.
“I’m working as a photographer and writer,” Abby said after a moment of silence. “Mostly travel pieces for the magazine I work for.”
“You enjoy it?” he asked, glancing over at her, then down at her camera.
“It pays the bills,” she replied, turning her camera off and slipping it back in her camera bag. She folded her arms over the bag and then winced.
“Do you want anything for the pain?” he asked. “I’ve got some painkillers in the first-aid kit too.”
She shook her head, turning to look out the side window.
Guess the conversation’s over. He stared ahead at the road, the thump of the frost heaves, the hum of the tires, the clinking of his key chain against the steering column the only sounds in the truck. Ten more uncomfortable and silent minutes later, they rounded a corner and saw an automobile parked by the side of the road.
“That’s my car,” Abby said. The vehicle listed to one side and Lee could see that one tire was flat.
A tall, lanky girl lay on the hood of the car. She lifted her head as Lee parked the truck and then she languorously raised herself off the car when he got out. Lee was surprised as he rounded the hood of his truck. This was Louisa? He remembered a rather plump girl who never made any apology for telling him that Abby was too good for him.
She would be pleased to know she was right.
Abby was already out of the cab and slipping her knapsack over her arm, ignoring him as he offered her his assistance. She hopped, using the truck to balance herself as she made her way to the car.
“What happened to you, girl?” Louisa called out, hurrying to help her friend. “Can’t leave you alone a minute before you get into trouble—” Then her voice faded away as a smile curved her lips.
“Hello,” she said to him, her smile warm and friendly.
Obviously she didn’t recognize him either, Lee noted, thinking of that brief moment when he and Abby were almost flirting with each other at the lookout point.
“Louisa, this is Lee...Bannister,” Abby said, looking pointedly at her friend. Louisa’s smile fled and her features hardened as she caught Abby by the arm, helping her to the car.
“How did you end up with him?” Louisa hissed, loud enough for Lee to hear.
Him. How quickly he had been dismissed. He shouldn’t have expected anything different, though. Louisa had made no secret of what she thought of him in high school, and he didn’t imagine the events following the prom had enhanced his standing with Abby’s friend.
“I cut my ankle and Lee helped me out,” Abby said, her voice strained. Lee felt sorry for her. She sounded as though the pain was getting worse.
“How did you cut your ankle, girlfriend?”
Abby waved off Louisa’s questions. “Just help me to the car so I can sit while we wait for the guy to come.”
“What guy?” Lee asked.
“Someone from Alan’s garage,” Louisa said in a dismissive tone. “He’s going to change the tire.”
“I can do that,” Lee offered.
Louisa and Abby both shot him a surprised look.
“I’m not completely helpless,” Lee muttered, walking to the back of the car to check on the tire. It was well and truly flat. “Where’s the spare?”
“You don’t need to—”
“Alan can do it—”
Abby and Louisa spoke at the same time. Lee almost felt insulted, but he guessed neither of them wanted to spend any more time with him than they had to.
“There’s no way I’m leaving you two here stranded,” he said, ignoring their protests. “So, where’s the spare tire?”
He saw Abby give Louisa another quick look, as if to verify what she should do. “It’s in the trunk. Under the carpet. There’s a toolbox there, as well.” Abby hit the key fob, he heard a click and he opened the trunk.
“I’ll help you,” she said, hobbling over to his side.
“Go sit on the side of the road,” he said. “I don’t want you falling again.”
The “again” slipped out. The grimace on Abby’s face indicated he’d hit a sensitive spot. He imagined that, after first falling out of a tree, then stumbling and getting cut while trying to avoid him, she’d had her share of humiliation. He didn’t need to rub it in.
Lee sighed wearily. He clearly wasn’t gaining ground with her, so he turned his attention to changing the tire. This he was halfway competent with. He found the spare tire, jack and tools he needed.
While he jacked and loosened nuts, Abby and Louisa had both taken his advice and sat on the side of the road, talking quietly.
Fifteen minutes later he dumped the flat tire in the back of the car and slammed the trunk shut. “It’s ready to go,” he said, brushing his hands on his jeans.
Louisa stood, helping Abby to her feet. “What do we owe you?” Louisa asked.
“Nothing. Just being neighborly.”
“I prefer to pay you,” Abby said, digging in her backpack.
“I prefer you don’t.” Lee took a step toward his truck. “You’ll want to bring that tire in to Alan’s to get it fixed. He can swap it for the spare. And, as I mentioned before, you should get that ankle looked at.”
“I’ll do that.” Abby clutched her backpack. “And thanks again for your help and...the ride.”
“Okay.” Another uncomfortable pause followed. There was nothing more to say or do, so he gave her a tense smile, then walked back to the truck.
As he drove away, he glanced in the rearview mirror, surprised to feel his heart banging against his rib cage.
It was just reaction, he told himself as he sucked in a breath and looked ahead. He wasn’t sure if he’d see Abby again, and it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to have anything to do with him, and he didn’t blame her.
That much hadn’t changed.
* * *
“You going to tell your mom that you met up with Lee?”
Abby looked up from her camera, glancing ahead at the road as Louisa turned the car around, headed back to Saddlebank. “It’s not like I snuck out to see him,” she said, wishing she didn’t sound so defensive. “It was a rotten coincidence that we both ended up at the same place at the same time.”
“Must have been hard for you.”
Abby let the sentence settle, contemplating the intricate ebb and flow of feelings that Lee Bannister stirred in her.
It bothered her that she found him even more attractive than she had in high school. She should despise him. He had not only injured her father, but had humiliated her. So, for all intents and purposes, she should feel nothing but contempt for him.
And yet, as she looked down at her camera again, she was annoyed to feel a prickle of tears. It had been nine years since her father’s accident. Surely seeing Lee shouldn’t bring all this up again. She blamed her wavering emotions on embarrassment. On the fatigue that had dogged her for the past four years, travelling around the world doing pieces on resorts for the travel magazine she worked for. It was a dream job and had paid her enough to set a bunch of money aside. But a weariness and a soul-deep dissatisfaction she couldn’t explain seemed to vex her every time she booked another airplane ticket. Every time she checked into a motel.
So she took a month off and, when she still felt the same, asked for an extension. It had taken a lot of wrangling with her editor, but Abby wanted to come home. She hadn’t been back in Saddlebank for years. Still, she should have timed her visit better, she realized, and returned after the Bannister anniversary and wedding.
“I knew he was coming back,” Abby said finally. “I thought I could avoid him but it seems God has an ironic sense of humor.”
“I wouldn’t call seeing that rat fink unexpectedly funny,” Louisa scoffed.
“You might have if you had seen the array of my various falls in front of him. I would have gotten at least an 8.6 for artistic impression.”
“And a ten for pain and suffering.”
“It’s not that bad,” Abby said, glancing down at the large bandage Lee had put on her cut.
“Well, that will certainly put a wrinkle in your hiking plans.”
Abby had hoped to head up into the high country and take some photos while she was here. Lately she’d been doing some freelance work, selling some of the pictures she took between jobs. She hoped to supplement her income doing her own work and slowly wean herself from the travel pieces she had been doing. “I’ll manage.”
Louisa was quiet a moment, then turned to her, eyebrows lifted. “So, was it hard to see Lee again?”
“Wasn’t easy. The guy has taken up too much space in my brain in the past few years.” Abby thought she had erased the shadow he cast on her life. But one look at him and all the tangled emotions twisted her inside out again. “Truth is, I just hate how much influence he’s had in my life,” she continued. “I feel like I’ve invested way too much energy in this nonrelationship. And I hope Mom doesn’t want to talk about it like she does each time I call her.”
“That’s probably part of your problem, as well,” Louisa said. “She keeps rehashing the same old stuff. Every time I speak with her, it’s also all she can talk about. She needs to get past it too.”
“It was a hard time for her. Watching Dad suffer and then become this completely different person, then their divorce...” Abby eased out a sigh and shook her head. “It changed our lives.”
“I know. I’m not going to lie—seeing Lee was a shock to me too. I’m still ticked at him for what he did to you at the prom. Taking you out on a bet from those louses he hung around with.”
“That was even longer ago,” Abby said with a snicker.
“Maybe, but I think that was almost as hard for you as the accident.” Louisa grew pensive, staring at the road ahead, her fingers tapping the steering wheel.
Abby was about to reply to that when she heard the muffled trill of her cell phone. She grabbed her backpack, recognizing the ring tone she had assigned to her editor. What could Maddie possibly want now?
“Let it ring,” Louisa snorted. “You’re on holiday.”
But Abby had never been able to let a phone ring; the insistent tone always created an urgency she couldn’t ignore. Besides, she was fully aware of how much she owed her editor right now. Abby had turned down two assignments so that she could extend her vacation.
“Hey, Maddie. What can I do for you?” she said, setting her camera aside.
“You in Montana? Close to home like you said you’d be?”
“Yeah. I’m coming up to Saddlebank in a couple of minutes.”
“Awesome. So listen up...I need your help. Badly. I need you to do me a favor.”
A knot settled in the pit of her stomach. It was never simply a favor with Maddie. On the contrary, it was always a huge, huge favor.
“Burt Templeton was supposed to do that Montana piece, but he’s stuck in Bangkok,” Maddie was saying. “Got some kind of weird tropical virus. He’s getting transferred to a hospital in Portland tomorrow, but he’s officially out of commission for another couple of weeks.” She huffed out a breath. “Which leaves me royally stuck. It’s not far from your hometown, and won’t take a lot of time. Four days, maybe five or six max. It’s a puff piece, Abby. Pictures. Some interviews. Please help me out?”
Abby was already shaking her head no. She was fairly sure she knew which piece Maddie was talking about.
“I hate to do this, but I’m desperate,” Maddie insisted. “So I’m calling in my favor...” And there it was. The favor her editor kept threatening to use when Abby had asked for all this time off. Abby knew she owed Maddie a lot, especially the past few months. When Abby first started, she hadn’t been completely straight up with Maddie, letting the editor think she knew more about feature writing than she did, but thankfully Maddie saw her potential. She’d been a patient and encouraging editor, pushing Abby to see situations differently. To think outside the box. To go beyond clichés, not only in her writing but her photography, as well. And during the past half year, as Abby felt the burnout of the work, she’d also extended a number of deadlines for Abby.
“Is it that piece on the Bannister ranch?” she asked hesitantly.
“Yeah, it is. The one you turned down.”
And for a good reason, Abby thought, her heart dropping like a stone.
“Sorry, Maddie. I couldn’t do it then...and I can’t do it now.”
“You can’t back out on me, missy. You know you owe me.” Maddie built on her advantage. “I wouldn’t play this card if I didn’t have a reason, and right now I’m stuck.”
“And there’s no one else?” Abby asked, clinging to her last shred of hope.
“No. And I’m asking you because you know Montana. You’ll see things no one else would notice. You’ll have a unique take on the story.”
And wasn’t that the truth?
Abby pressed a finger to her temple as the too-familiar ache began making itself known. She wanted to say no. Wanted to protest that she couldn’t do this, but she had already said yes. And she owed her editor.
“Okay. Send me the particulars, and I’ll see what I can come up with.”
“Great. Consider it done. Email me an outline ASAP and we’ll take it from there.”
Abby ended the call, trying to calm her pounding heart.
“You look like someone just punched you in the stomach,” Louisa said as she slowed to make the turn into town. “You get fired?”
“No. I just got a job.”
“That’s good, I guess. Though you are technically on holiday.” She glanced over at her. “So, what’s the piece?”
“It’s on Refuge Ranch’s hundred and fiftieth anniversary.”
“You can’t be serious!” Louisa’s exclamation of dismay eerily echoed Abby’s own feelings. “Say no. You’ve got to say no.”
Abby squeezed her now-trembling hands between her knees to steady them. “I can’t. I owe my editor more than I can ever repay. Besides, it’s just a job.”
“It’s more than that and you know it. What will your mother think?”
“That I shouldn’t do this.” Abby laid her head back on the headrest, the weariness clinging to her the past few months growing stronger. She felt unsatisfied, unfulfilled. It seemed every day was a struggle to get through, and her extended hiatus hadn’t eased that feeling away. If anything, it had become worse.
“I don’t know. Maybe I should do this,” she said softly. “Like I said before, this whole thing with Lee and my dad has taken up too much of my thoughts. I think it’s because, before today, I hadn’t seen Lee since the sentencing, let alone talk with him. Maybe if I spend some time with him, on his ranch, it will help put things in perspective.”
“Can’t see how that’s a good idea,” Louisa warned. “I doubt your mother would appreciate you working with the enemy, so to speak.”
“She might not, but I don’t think I have much choice.” Abby sorted through her thoughts, trying to find the right motivation for what she had just agreed to. “For the past year I’ve been praying to find a way to get some closure on everything that happened. This might be my chance.”
“Maybe, but I hope this doesn’t make things worse for you,” Louisa replied.
Abby shrugged as the familiar buildings of the town she had grown up in slipped past the window, each one bringing back a myriad of memories. Some good. Some not.
She sincerely hoped taking on this assignment would help her finally put Lee Bannister and all that he had done in her life behind her.
Chapter Three (#ulink_b9c10195-dbe7-5f34-886f-16619cfc53ea)
“I’m so blessed. All my children home at one time,” Ellen Bannister said, folding her hands, looking over at Lee, who was already sitting down at the dinner table. “And soon Tanner will be a part of this family.” She beamed at Tanner, Keira’s fiancé, and Heather and her fiancé, John, who were also seated with them.
As Lee caught her loving glance, he couldn’t help but agree. Though he’d been back to the ranch a few times since he left, either Heather or Keira had been gone when he’d been here and vice versa. Now, for the first time in years, they were all gathered together at once.
“The family is growing,” Lee mused.
“We’re doing our part,” Heather said, the rich scent of a roast beef wafting through the dining room as she set a large steaming platter of sliced meat on the table beside the salads.
“You need to catch up, mister,” John quipped, giving Heather a wink as she sat down beside him.
“I don’t know about that,” Lee said. “You guys are a tough act to follow.”
John with his blond hair and chiseled features was the perfect match for his sister, Heather, a stunning former model who was always looking picture-perfect.
“I know you’ll have a hard time finding someone as glamorous as my future wife,” John returned with a laugh as he let his arm rest across Heather’s shoulders. “But I have faith in you. You never seemed to have any trouble in high school getting the girls.”
Unbidden came a picture of Abby with her pretty auburn hair and her sprinkling of freckles.
He shook his head as if to rid himself of the notion, getting up to take one of the bowls his sister Keira was carrying into the dining room. He sniffed as he put it on the table. “Ginger-glazed carrots. You read my mind. These from the garden?”
“You bet,” Keira said, setting a bowl of baby potatoes beside it. “We might have been premature picking them, though. None of them are very big.”
“I’ll say,” Tanner put in, pulling a chair out for his future wife. His dark hair, brown eyes and dark eyebrows gave him a hard look, but Lee knew the former bronc rider was a softie when it came to his sister. He also knew Tanner was the complete opposite of his deceased brother, David Fortier, Lee’s former friend. “We had to dig up a quarter of a row of carrots and four potato plants before we got enough for supper.”
“It’ll be worth it,” Keira said, brushing her blond locks off her face. Her green eyes sparkled with humor as she sat down beside Tanner, flashing him a loving smile.
“I’ll say it was. This looks and smells amazing,” Lee raved, his stomach growling.
He hadn’t eaten since that single granola bar he’d grabbed at a gas station on his way up here. A combination of nerves and excitement at coming home had made it hard for him to eat. And after he’d met Abby Newton, any appetite he might have had faded away. Her veiled antagonism stuck in his throat, and he still cringed at the memory. He knew he would be facing the shadows of the past coming back to the ranch, but he didn’t think those shadows would take the form of actually encountering Abby so soon.
“So, where’s Adana?” he asked, finally realizing that John’s daughter wasn’t with them.
“She’s with Sandy’s parents,” John said. “They wanted to take her to put some flowers on Sandy’s grave.”
“That’s pretty heavy for a two-year-old to deal with,” Lee remarked.
John shrugged. “Sandy was their only daughter. They don’t want Adana to forget her.”
Silence followed that pronouncement. John had been married to Sandy for two years before she died giving birth to Adana. Sandy’s parents still lived in Saddlebank and, from what Lee understood, took care of Adana from time to time.
“And that’s only right,” Ellen said finally. “I like to think my children would remember me if something happened.”
“Something already did,” Monty said, referring to the break in her neck Ellen had suffered over half a year ago. “And thank the good Lord you made it through that.”
Guilt suffused Lee at the thought that his mother had gone through all that pain while he stayed away.
“And thank the good Lord that the brace came off in time for Keira’s wedding,” Ellen said brightly. “I would have a hard time finding a mother of the bride outfit wearing that silly thing.”
“You’d look good no matter what you wore,” Monty murmured, patting her on the arm.
Lee couldn’t stop a tinge of envy at his family’s obvious happiness. Though he knew both his sisters had had their trials in the past, they had overcome them and had found happiness and someone who loved and accepted them exactly as they were.
He hadn’t had the same experience. Abby had been the last woman he was serious about. Then it was prison and after that, trying to find work. He had tried dating but couldn’t seem to connect with anyone who he wanted to spend time with. Of course, once any decent woman heard about his prison term, she seemed to back off.
“I think we can get started,” Monty said. “Like you said, Ellen, we are richly blessed. A wedding coming up next week, the anniversary celebrations and all our children home.”
Then he bowed his head and thanked the Lord for the food, for their family and the many blessings they’d received over the years. He prayed for strength and for wisdom and thanked the Lord for his sacrificial love.
When he said amen, Lee kept his head bent a moment longer, letting the prayer soak into his weary soul. The offshore drilling rig work he’d been doing—camp jobs and being on the road for weeks at a time—didn’t allow for much faith community. And he truly missed being a part of a robust spiritual life.
He lifted his head to catch his father looking at him, a pensive expression on his face as if he guessed where Lee’s mind had been wandering. Then his sisters started chatting, people started passing bowls and plates and he was drawn into the give and take of family conversation and dinner around the Bannister table.
For the first few moments, Lee was more spectator than participant. Other than the two years she’d worked in Seattle, Keira had stayed at Refuge Ranch working with their father, Monty, at his leather-working business, expanding it and putting her own mark on it. Heather had returned this spring and was settling into her work, teaching barrel-racing clinics. John had bought in to the ranch, and he and Heather were making plans to build an arena so she could train horses right on the ranch. Their lives were entwined with the daily rhythm of ranch life.
Lee envied them the peace that suffused their lives. But he had grown up on the ranch as well, understood the language and the way of life, so he was soon drawn into the conversation as the topics moved to pasture management, maximizing profits and alternative feeding methods.
An hour later, after dessert and coffee, Lee sat back in his chair, replete.
“I haven’t been this stuffed in a long time,” he said, rubbing his stomach. “I’m sure I gained six pounds tonight.”
“Three helpings of apple pie probably didn’t help,” Keira teased.
“That’s the best apple pie I’ve had since I left here,” Lee said with a groan.
“Guess we’ll have to add apple pie to the wedding menu.” Tanner grinned at Keira. “Cheesecake and trifle might not be enough for your brother.”
Everyone laughed at that, and Lee was about to make a rebuttal when the phone rang.
Monty got up to answer and Heather started clearing the table. Lee stood to help her and as they passed Monty, who was still talking on the phone, his father shot Lee a troubled glance.
“Well, if that’s the way it’s gotta go, doesn’t seem to be much I can do about it,” Monty said, scratching his forehead with one finger. He said goodbye and then set the phone back in its cradle.
“What was that about?” Lee asked as he set the plates by the dishwasher.
“That was the editor of the magazine doing the piece on the ranch.” Monty crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the counter behind him. “Apparently the guy that was supposed to do the story on the ranch won’t be coming.”
“Oh no,” Heather said. “And you were so excited about having that feature done.”
“Does that mean I’m off the hook?” Lee asked. Since everyone else was tied up with preparations for the wedding, he had been volunteered to show the reporter around. Take him on a few rides up in the hills and show him as much of the ranch as he could. They had planned a cattle drive for the cows and calves they had to move to pasture, and had even talked about a campfire out in the hills like the way they used to do during fall roundup.
Monty settled his gaze on Lee, who felt a shiver of apprehension at the concern on his father’s face. “The editor, Maddie, found someone else to do the story.” He paused and the shiver became a chill. “Abby Newton will be coming tomorrow. She’s the reporter slash photographer who is replacing Burt.”
* * *
Abby took her foot off the accelerator as her car crested the hill leading down into Refuge Ranch, its many buildings clustered in the basin below her. The sprawling ranch house sat off to one side tucked into a copse of spruce. Its large stone chimney soaring skyward from the house was framed by large panes of glass overlooking mountains cradling the basin.
There was another smaller house to the left of that. From the information Maddie had forwarded her, she suspected that was John Argall’s house, the new partner in the ranch. A large shed housing some tractors and haying equipment dominated the rest of the yard. Beside that was another barn and various outbuildings, one of which sported a sign, swinging from a wrought-iron frame. Abby couldn’t read the writing from here, but she suspected the building was the leather-working shop where Keira Bannister toiled away. Large corrals took up a few more acres of space, and beyond that pastures rolled away for endless miles. Though it wasn’t operating at capacity—Monty had downsized after Lee left—it was still a large ranch. And the Bannister name was embedded in Saddlebank history.
Part of her wanted to turn, run back and tell Maddie she couldn’t do this.
How could she deliberately spend time with Lee? Or face the family she insisted pay for what had happened to her father?
But she had said yes, and Abby wasn’t someone who went back on her word.
Ever.
So she tamped down the anxiety, stepped on the gas and headed down to Refuge Ranch.
As she got closer to the ranch, she saw a tall, solitary figure leaving the house, head covered by a brown cowboy hat. He looked up when she pulled into the graveled parking pad by the main house. Dark eyes narrowed as he stared in her direction, his hands dropping on his hips, and she guessed Lee was as happy to see her as she was to see him.
No turning back now.
Abby parked her car and turned it off, whispering a quick prayer for strength and courage. Then she grabbed her knapsack and stepped out. She limped to the back door and pulled out a crutch, willing the flush that was even now heating her cheeks to go away. It was embarrassing to need a crutch, but the doctor she had seen last night recommended it for today. Just to make sure the cut healed properly.
“Good morning, Lee,” she said as she hobbled toward him.
“Morning.” He glanced from her crutch to her. “How’s the ankle?”
“Not as bad as yesterday but not as good as the day before. Thankfully the doctor said I could keep it.” Then to deflect the attention from herself, she glanced up at his forehead, still sporting a bandage. “How’s the head?”
He reached up and touched the bandage. “Oh yeah. It’s fine.”
“No permanent damage?” The saucy tone in her voice was a defense mechanism, but she could tell from his frown that he didn’t appreciate her attempt at levity.
“I think I’ll live,” he returned. “But that’s only my opinion. Head injury patients aren’t always reliable.”
His comeback surprised her. He was still frowning, but maybe that was his default expression.
“I might have to verify that statement with your other family members.” Seriously, quit already, she told herself. She always started joking when she was nervous.
He simply nodded and one of those now-too-familiar awkward silences fell between them.
“So, I heard you’re doing the piece for the Near and Far?” he said.
“Burt contracted some exotic bug and is stuck in a hospital in Bangkok.” Which, right about now, sounded more appealing than being stuck in Saddlebank, Montana. “My editor asked me to take over. I happened to be here, so it makes sense. Kind of.” She slipped her knapsack over one shoulder and grabbed her crutch. “So...maybe you can bring me to see your father? The sooner I get going, the sooner I can be done.”
And didn’t that sound enthusiastic.
“I mean, the sooner I can get out of your hair,” she amended. “I know you and your family must be busy with all the wedding and ranch celebrations.”
Lee sent her a bemused look. “I’m actually kind of useless with canapés and centerpieces. So I’m stuck on writer detail.”
“Excuse me...?” she stammered. “What...what do you mean?”
“Dad’s busy getting stuff sorted for the anniversary, John, Keira and Heather are all tied up with the wedding and our hired hand’s mother ended up in the hospital, so he’s had to drop everything to be with her. Which leaves me to show you around.”
Abby’s poor overworked heart dropped like a rock down a mine shaft.
“I may not have been around the ranch much the last few years, but I know its history,” Lee continued, obviously misreading her reaction.
As he talked Abby could only stare at him, feeling just this side of coherent as his words slowly registered. Lee. Would be her guide.
Lee Bannister the man—
She gave herself a mental shake, yanking her foolish thoughts from the past as she struggled to become the professional journalist she was getting paid to be.
“Okay... We’ll, uh, work through this.”
This bumbling confession netted her another scowl.
“So, I guess this is the home place?” she asked, gesturing toward the ranch house. She’d read the background notes that Maddie had sent her from Burt, but they were scattered bits and pieces of useless information. She was virtually starting from scratch.
“Yes, but it’s not the site of the first house,” Lee replied. “I can show you the original homestead. It was set closer to the road. Would you like to see it?”
“Of course.”
He lifted a dark eyebrow. “You going to be able to walk? It’s down the road a couple hundred feet.”
“I’ll manage,” she said, because she had no other choice. Maddie had warned her that she would be doing a lot of traipsing around, possibly even riding. Her ankle didn’t hurt as much as yesterday, but she didn’t want the cut to open up again. The last thing she needed was another painfully awkward first-aid situation.
“I have an idea of how to make this work. Just wait here,” he said, pointing to a wooden bench with pots of brightly colored flowers nestled up against it. “I’ll be right back.”
She was about to tell him that it didn’t matter, but he was already jogging away from her. He ducked into a large building beside the hip-roof barn. A few moments later, a large overhead door rattled open and Lee came putt-putting out of the garage, driving an all-terrain vehicle.
She had to chuckle at the sight of this large, strapping cowboy operating what her brother always referred to as a quad. It didn’t look right. Nevertheless, he drove the vehicle up to her and, leaving it running, climbed off.
“Not going to lie, I’m a little disillusioned,” she said. “I figured a cowboy like you wouldn’t go anywhere on the ranch but astride a horse.”
“Quicker to start a quad than head out into the horse pasture to get a horse for such a short trip,” he returned, not even cracking a smile. “I’ll help you on.”
He held out his hand, but she ignored him.
“I think I can manage,” she said. She had been on many modes of transportation in her travels, but this would be her first quad ride. The seat looked large enough for the two of them, but she guessed it would mean sitting astride, right behind Lee.
Deal with that later, she thought, trying to figure out how she was going to get on the thing with her injured ankle.
Slow it down and break it down, she told herself. She’d made a fool of herself plenty already in front of Lee because of her tendency toward impulsive behavior. No sense in carrying on the tradition.
First she shrugged off her backpack and set that in the box fixed to a rack across the back of the quad. Then, putting her weight on her good foot and using her crutch for balance, she managed to get her bandaged foot up and over the seat. She shifted her weight, pulled up her crutch and...voilà! She was on.
With no falling whatsoever. Always a good thing.
Lee dropped onto the seat, hit a button on the handlebar and the quad lurched ahead. She caught herself in time, but her grip on the seat was precarious.
“The field’s a bit rough, so brace yourself,” he cautioned as he flicked the quad into the next gear up.
Rough was an understatement, Abby thought as the quad jostled and bounced over ruts in the field that she suspected were from a tractor. But the worst part of all was that every rut they hit made the quad bounce, had her bumping up against Lee.
She wondered if he had done this on purpose, but when she saw him move forward on the seat, as if to avoid her, she guessed this was a decision he regretted, as well. A few more bounces later, he stopped and turned the quad off.
He quickly dismounted but stayed beside the vehicle while she got off. Then he grabbed her crutch and handed it to her, and while she fitted it under her arm, she forgot her earlier reminder to take her time and she stumbled. He caught her, steadying her, his hand warm on her upper arm.
Abby jerked back, but she almost lost her balance again. This time Lee caught her with both hands.
They stood that way a moment, Abby wishing, praying, she could stop the blush that she knew made her cheeks flame.
“Please let me go,” she whispered.
“I will if you promise not to act so jittery. You’re going to fall again.”
“I’m not jittery,” she retorted, tossing her hair back and lifting her chin as if to face him down.
His dark eyes held hers, his expression serious.
“I think you are,” he said quietly.
Abby suddenly found herself unable to speak as their gazes locked. The faintest whisper of a breeze rose, cooling her heated cheeks, toying with her hair.
Lee finally released her, then heaved out a sigh. “Look, I know things are weird between us. I get it. But right now I have to help you with this story. I don’t like the idea either, but we gotta find a way to work together without being uncomfortable. Put what happened behind us and move on.”
Annoyance flickered through her at the seeming control he had of his emotions. Behind that came anger. As if he could simply put behind them what had happened. He was talking about more than something as innocuous as hurt feelings. But on the one hand he was right. Better to address the unpleasantness and get it out of the way than dance around it.
“I’m sure we can do that,” she conceded.
He gave her a quick nod of acknowledgment, but when he turned away from her to retrieve her backpack, she also knew her feelings toward Lee wouldn’t disappear simply because she wished they would.
They were too complex and too deeply ingrained.
She just hoped she could maintain a semblance of civility with him and not let old memories of her silly schoolgirl crush supersede the reality of what he had done to her family.
Chapter Four (#ulink_048b762e-8a64-50ce-989c-9a5441f79c16)
Who did he think he was fooling?
Lee clutched the padded backpack Abby had set on the back of the quad, taking a few seconds to contain himself. The tension between him and Abby was almost thick enough to see. So, obviously, his little speech about moving past what had happened between them wasn’t changing anything.
But at least he had gotten it out in the open. They wouldn’t have to pretend the pain and uncertainty weren’t there.
“I’ll take my backpack, please,” Abby said as Lee slipped the one strap over his shoulder.
“I don’t mind carrying it. I’m afraid it will throw you off balance in this high grass.”
“Those cameras and lenses in there are my livelihood,” she informed him, her hand still out. “I have never entrusted that backpack to anyone before.”
He wanted to protest, not sure he should risk helping her again if she stumbled, but she seemed adamant, so he reluctantly handed the bag over to her. He shoved his hands in his back pocket so he wouldn’t be tempted to rush to her rescue again.
That moment, when he had held her arms, it was as if something electric surged between them. He blamed his reaction to the heightened feelings she created in him all across the board. It was just their history that made him so aware of her, but for both their sakes, he knew he had to find a way to keep a tight lid on his emotions. Otherwise this whole arrangement could become untenable.
Lee slowed his steps to match her pace and when they came to a depression in the ground, he stopped.
“Don’t know if you can make it out from here, but that’s what’s left of the first foundation of the house that my great-great-grandfather Cecil Bannister built.”
“Is it a darker color?” she asked, pointing to the mounded rectangle in the grass.
“It is. My grandfather used sod from a field closer to the river for the foundation. Different grass type, that’s why it shows up.”
“A soddy house, I’m guessing?”
“When Grandpa Cecil and his wife came here in 1865, they stayed with a single man who lived a ways down the road. Apparently he was a head case, so Cecil decided he needed to get out as soon as possible. So he built the sod house. It was a quick shelter for them.” He spared her a look. “When I was growing up we would come up here for a picnic at least once a year, as if to remind us of the ranch’s humble beginnings. When Heather came into the family, this was one of the first places we took her.”
“Heather was adopted, wasn’t she?”
He nodded slowly. “She was ten when she came into our family.”
“I vaguely remember that. Must have been hard for her.”
“It was. But she had come from a bad situation. Her mother pretty much neglected her. But she loved the horses...and me and Keira and John took her riding whenever we could. It was the best therapy for her, apparently. It helped her settle in here.”
“There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man,” Abby said quietly.
He shot her a quick glance. “You know that quote?”
“I know lots of quotes. They rattle around in my brain, taking up space, waiting for the right opportunity to get hauled out,” Abby quipped.
“Well, my dad would say it whenever we were out riding the hills, checking cows and pasture, and he was right.” In fact, Lee had hoped to go riding this morning, to reconnect with the land and his legacy, but then he heard Abby was coming. This afternoon, he thought, turning to look at the valley below. The hills called to him and seemed to soothe the restless wandering that defined his life the past couple of years.
“I can see why your great-great-grandfather built up here. It’s a beautiful view,” Abby murmured as she looked in the same direction.
“It gets windy up here. And when those sod walls dried out, not so good for the relationship between Cecil and Betty, apparently.”
“Betty being your many times great-grandmother?”
Lee nodded, drawing in a cleansing breath of the fresh mountain air.
He heard the distinctive click of Abby’s camera and glanced over his shoulder to see her with her crutch under her one arm as she took pictures of the foundation. She looped the camera around her neck and made her way to the far side of the old foundation and lifted her camera again.
Lee stepped aside to get out of the picture.
“No, stay there,” she said. “But with your back to me.”
He did so reluctantly, hands on his hips, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Though he was looking out at the view that he had so missed while he was gone, his attention was focused on the woman behind him, taking picture after picture, her camera beeping, clicking and whirring.
“Are you done yet?”
“Just keep looking away,” she ordered.
“You’ve gotten bossy,” he grumbled, but he did what she told him to.
“I’ve learned a few lessons while traveling overseas,” she said. “Dealing with reluctant clients and shy subjects. And some belligerent ones.”
He allowed her a few more photographs, her comment about belligerent subjects making him stay where he was. After a while, however, he was done with this.
“So I thought I could show you the current yard site now.” He turned and walked toward her.
She took a few more photos, then paused, her camera still in front of her face. A cloud passed over the sun and her camera click-clicked again. “That’s perfect,” she breathed. “Just perfect.”
She unlooped her camera from around her neck, snapped the lens cap on and slipped the camera in her bag.
“Can we stop halfway down?” she asked. “I’d like to get some different angles of the yard.”
“Your wish is my command.” He gave her a mocking salute, pleased to see a faint smile tease her lips as he started up the quad. He hadn’t seen her smile since she discovered who he was. For a brief moment up at the lookout point, he’d seen her natural and unreserved. He wished he could see that part of her again.
He stopped halfway down the hill as she asked, but this time he stayed on the vehicle while she walked to a hummock, sat down and took a bunch more photos.
Then she looked at the back screen of the camera, adjusted a few settings, took a few more.
The only sounds were from Abby’s camera and the occasional lowing of cows from one of the pastures closer to the ranch. John, his father and Nick had moved the cattle a couple of months ago and had figured on moving them to the next pasture when Burt was here to do the anniversary piece.
Lee glanced over at Abby, wondering if she would be willing and/or able to come along on a cattle drive. His mouth quirked. Somehow he couldn’t imagine her on the back of a horse.
He was about to look away when she glanced over at him. Their eyes met and it took mere seconds to return to that breathless place of a few moments ago when he had steadied her. Then Abby averted her gaze and Lee gave himself a mental smack.
She’s here to do a job and you’re here to help her, he reminded himself, folding his arms over his chest. After that you’re both heading back to whatever it was you have to head back to.
* * *
“And how was your day at the Bannister place?” Abby’s mother asked, setting a plate of spaghetti in front of her.
Ivy Newton had always been slender, but the past few years had not been kind to Abby’s mom. Though her makeup was still impeccable, and her steel-gray hair fashionably styled in a trim pageboy, it wasn’t hard to see how time and the events of the past few years had taken their toll. Her cheeks were gaunt and her eyes dull, and once again Abby felt the guilt that always nagged at her when she thought of all her mother had lost after her father’s accident. Instead of spending her days taking care of the lovely home they had built up on the hill, puttering in their extensive gardens, her mother now held a job as the manager of the produce department of Saddlebank Market Goods.
“It was okay” was all she could say. Truth was, she wasn’t sure herself what to think of the day.
After Lee had brought her down from the original homestead, he showed her the house, yard and barns, giving her background information at each site. It had been a lot to absorb.
And from Lee’s account, it was evident he had shown her only a small portion of the Bannister wealth. Hard not to compare the palatial house she had only seen from the outside with the modest apartment her mother now lived in. Though the table and chairs she and her mother sat at were the same elegant set Ivy had been so proud to purchase, and the leather couch, love seat and hand-hooked rug were remnants of a more prosperous life, they looked out of place crammed in the small and somewhat dingy rooms.
Her mother sat down across from her, unfolding her napkin and setting it on her lap. “Spending the afternoon out there probably gave you enough for your piece?”

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