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The Rancher's Return
Carolyne Aarsen


Home On The RanchThe Rocking K ranch is the only home Carter Beck has ever known. Now, in the wake of family tragedy, he wants to sell it. But how can he do that when his new horse trainer, Emma Minton, sees the ranch as her fresh start? All she wants is a good job and a place to raise her son.As Emma's little boy becomes attached to Carter, he wonders if selling the ranch is really for the best. Or could this bond mean a second chance at a family—for all of them?










“Is everything okay?” Emma asked quietly.

“We’re fine,” Carter said.

When Adam saw his mother, he reached out for her. Carter felt a sense of loss as Adam’s hand slipped off his shoulder. For just a moment the emptiness had eased.

But right behind that came the pain.

“Sorry about that,” Emma said, setting Adam on the ground, then tousling his hair.

Carter couldn’t speak. How could he explain the memories that resurfaced around the boy? It wasn’t Adam’s fault he was the same age Harry was when he died. But every time Carter saw him, the reminder of his loss plunged into his heart like a knife.

He caught Emma’s enigmatic expression. As if trying to puzzle him out.

Don’t bother, he wanted to tell her. It’s not worth it.

But as their gazes caught and meshed, she gave him a careful smile, as if forgiving him his confusion.

He wasn’t going to return it. He was also going to look away. But he couldn’t.


Dear Reader,

I had a hard time finding the right emotional tone for this book, because losing a child is such a heart-rending experience. As my grandmother said, to bury parents is the normal flow of life and death. To bury a child goes against every part of our nature. She knew what she spoke about. She buried three. When I wrote this book, I wanted to be true to what a parent experiences when a child is lost and yet hold out hope that the pain does shift. The edges wear off. It doesn’t go away, but after a while you don’t mind living with the sorrow.

Eighteen years ago, my family followed the small coffin of our son out of our church and into the adjoining graveyard and watched it being lowered into the earth. The pain did ease off and the sorrow lost its bite. And through it all, our family felt the prayers of the community and the strength of God’s abiding and unfailing love.

Carter had to learn to let people into his life so that he could share his pain and, by sharing it, lose some of the burden of it. I pray, if you have suffered a deep loss, that you too will know that even in the storm, God is there, holding you. I pray you will feel the prayers of the people around you and let them hold you too.






P.S. I love to hear from my readers. Send me a note at caarsen@xplornet.com, or stop by my website www.carolyneaarsen.com. On my website, be sure to check out the Hartley Creek Herald for news about happenings in and around Hartley Creek.




The Rancher’s Return

Carolyne Aarsen























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


To Richard, my partner in joy and sorrow


I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge

and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”

—Psalms 91:2




Chapter One


Coming back to the ranch was harder than he’d thought.

Carter Beck swung his leg over his motorbike and yanked off his helmet. He dragged a hand over his face, calloused hands rasping over the stubble of his cheeks as he looked over the yard.

As his eyes followed the contours of the land, the hills flowing up to the rugged mountains of southern British Columbia, a sense of homesickness flickered deep in his soul. This place had been his home since his mother had moved here, a single mother expecting twins.

He hadn’t been back for two years. If it hadn’t been for his beloved grandmother’s recent heart attack, he would still be away.

Unable to stop himself, his eyes drifted over to the corral. The memories he’d kept at bay since he left crashed into his mind. Right behind them came the wrenching pain and haunting guilt he’d spent the past twenty-three months outrunning.

The whinnying of a horse broke into his dark thoughts and snagged his attention.

A young boy astride a horse broke through the copse of trees edging the ranch’s outbuildings. He held the reins of his horse in both hands, elbows in, wrists cocked.

Just as Carter had taught him.

A wave of dizziness washed over Carter as the horse came closer.

Harry.

Even as he took a step toward the horse and rider, reality followed like ice water through his veins. The young boy wore a white cowboy hat instead of a trucker’s cap.

And Carter’s son was dead.

A woman astride a horse followed the boy out of the trees. The woman sat relaxed in the saddle, one hand resting on her thigh, her broad-brimmed hat hiding her face, reins held loosely in her other hand. She looked as if she belonged atop a horse, as if she was one with the animal, so easy were her motions as her horse followed the other.

When the woman saw him, she pulled up and dismounted in one fluid motion.

“Can I help you, sir?” she asked, pushing her hat back on her head, her brown eyes frowning at him as she motioned the boy to stop.

Carter felt a tinge of annoyance at her question, spoken with such a cool air. Sir? As if he was some stranger instead of the owner of the ranch she rode across? And who was she?

“Is that your motorbike, sir?” The young boy pulled off his hat, his green eyes intent on Carter’s bike. “It’s really cool.”

His eager voice, his bright eyes, resurrected the memories that lay heavy on Carter’s soul. And when the woman lifted the little boy from the saddle and gently stroked his hair back from his face with a loving motion, the weight grew.

“Yeah. It’s mine.”

“It’s so awesome,” the boy said, his breathless young voice battering away at Carter’s defenses.

Carter’s heart stuttered. He even sounded like Harry. Coming back to the place where his son died had been hard enough. Meeting a child the same age Harry was when he died made this even more difficult.

He forced his attention back to the woman. A light breeze picked up a strand of her long, brown hair, and as she tucked it behind her ear he caught sight of her bare left hand. No rings.

She saw him looking at her hand and lifted her chin in the faintest movement of defiance. Then she put her hand on the boy’s shoulder, drawing him to her side, as if ready to defend him against anything Carter might have to say. She looked like a protective mare standing guard over her precious colt.

Carter held her gaze and for a moment, as their eyes locked, an indefinable emotion arced between them.

“My name is Carter Beck,” he said quietly.

The woman’s eyes widened, and he saw recognition in her expression. He caught a trace of sorrow in the softening of her features, in the gentle parting of her lips.

“I imagine you’ve come to see Nana … Mrs. Beck.”

He frowned at her lapse. This unknown woman called his grandmother Nana?

“And you are?” he asked.

“Sorry again,” she said, transferring the reins and holding out her hand. “I’m Emma Minton. This is my son, Adam. I help Wade on the ranch here. I work with the horses as well as help him with the cows and anything else that needs doing. But I’m sure you know that,” she said with a light laugh that held a note of self-conscious humor.

“Nice to meet you, Emma,” he said as he reluctantly took her hand. “Wade did tell me a while back he was hiring a new ranch hand. I didn’t expect …”

“A woman?” Emma lifted her shoulders in a light shrug. “I worked on a ranch all my life. I know my way around horses and cows and fences and haying equipment.”

“I’m sure you do. Otherwise, Wade wouldn’t have hired you.”

Emma angled her head to one side, as if wondering if he was being sarcastic. Then she gave him a quick nod, accepting his answer.

Carter glanced around the yard. “Where is Wade?”

“He and Miranda went to town. She had a doctor’s appointment.”

“Right. Of course.” The last time he’d talked to Wade, his ranch foreman had told him his wife was expecting.

Emma’s horse stamped impatiently, and she reached up and stroked his neck. “I should put the horses away. Good to meet you, and I’m sure we’ll be seeing you around.” Then without a second glance, she turned the horses around, her son trotting alongside her.

“Was that man Mr. Beck? The man who owns the ranch?” Adam’s young voice floated back to him.

“Yup. That’s who it was,” Emma replied.

“So he’s the one we have to ask about the acreage?” Adam asked.

Acreage? What acreage? He wanted to call after her to find out what she was talking about. But he was sure his grandmother heard his motorbike come into the yard and would be expecting him.

As he turned toward the house where his grandmother lived, his gaze traced over the land beyond the ranch yard. The hay fields were greener than he had ever seen them.

Beyond them he heard the water of Morrisey River splashing over the rocks, heading toward the Elk River. The river kept flowing, a steady source of water for the ranch and a constant reminder of the timelessness of the place.

Five generations of Becks had lived along this river and before that who knows how many generations of his great-great-grandmother Kamiskahk’s tribe.

He felt a surprising smile pull at his mouth as other, older memories soothed away the stark ones he’d been outrunning the past two years.

Then, as he walked toward his grandmother’s house, he passed the corral. He wasn’t going to look, but his eyes, as if they had a will of their own, shifted to the place where the horse waterer had been. The place where his son had drowned.

His heart tripped in his chest and he pushed the memories away, the reminder of his son’s death stiffening his resolve to leave this place as soon as he could.

He looked older than the picture Nana Beck had on her mantel, Emma thought, watching Carter stride away. He wore his hair longer, and his eyes were slate-blue instead of gray.

Emma had heard so much about Nana Beck’s grandchild, that she felt she knew him personally.

But the tall man with the sad eyes and grim mouth didn’t fit with the stories Nana had told her. The man in Nana Beck’s stories laughed a lot, smiled all the time and loved his life. This man looked as if he carried the burden of the world on his shoulders. Of course, given what he had lost, Emma wasn’t surprised. She felt her own heart quiver at the thought of losing Adam like Carter lost his son.

“Can I feed the other horses some of the carrots?” Adam was asking, breaking into her dark thoughts.

Emma pulled her attention away from Carter.

“Sure you can. Just make sure you don’t pull out too many. We have to pick some to bring to Nana Beck.” She opened the corral gate and led her horses, Diamond and Dusty, inside, Adam right behind her.

“Are we having supper there?”

Emma shook her head as she tied the horses up. “Nope. Shannon … Miss Beck said she was coming.” Since Nana Beck’s heart attack, Nana Beck’s granddaughter, Shannon, Miranda, the foreman’s wife, and Emma all took turns cooking for Nana, making sure she was eating. Today it was Shannon’s turn.

“Are you going to talk to that Carter man about the acreage?”

“He just got here, honey. I think I’ll give him a day or two.” Emma loosened the cinches on Diamond’s saddle and eased it off his back. She frowned at the cracking on the skirt of the saddle. She’d have to oil it up again, though she really should buy a new one.

And Adam needed new boots and she needed a new winter coat and she should buy a spare tire for her horse trailer. But she was saving as much as possible to add to what she had left from the sale of her father’s ranch.

“Do you think he’ll let us have our place?”

Emma frowned, pulling her attention away from the constant nagging concerns and plans of everyday life and back to her son.

“It’s not our place, honey.” Emma pulled off the saddle blankets, as anticipation flickered through her at her and Adam’s plans. “But I do hope to talk to him about it.”

Wade Klauer, the foreman, had told her about the old yard site. How it had been a part of another ranch Carter had bought just before his son died. When Wade told her Carter was returning, she’d seen this as her chance to ask him to subdivide the yard site of the property. Maybe, finally, she and her son could have a home of their own.

“I’m going to get some carrots,” Adam said, clambering over the corral fence. “And I won’t pick too many,” he added with an impish grin.

Emma laughed and blew him a kiss and then watched him run across the yard, his boots kicking up little clouds of dust.

He was so precious. And she wanted more than anything to give him a place. A home.

Up until she got pregnant, she’d spent her summers following the rodeo, barrel racing the horses her beloved mother had bought for her. Her winters were spent working wherever she found a job. But after she got pregnant, she was determined to do right by her son. And when Adam’s biological father abandoned her, she moved back to her father’s ranch and returned to her faith.

A year ago she met Karl and thought she’d found a reason to settle down. A man she could trust to take care of her and her son. A man who also loved ranch and country life.

But when she found him kissing her best friend, Emma ditched him. A few months later, Emma’s father died. And in the aftermath, she discovered her father had been secretly gambling, using the ranch for collateral. After the ranch was sold to pay the debts, Emma was left with only a horse trailer, two horses, a pickup truck and enough money for a small down payment on another place.

As Emma drove off the ranch, her dreams and plans for her future in tatters, she knew she couldn’t trust any man to take care of her and Adam.

She struggled along, working where she could, finding a place to live and board her horses. So when she saw an ad for a hired hand at the Rocking K Ranch, close to the town of Hartley Creek, she responded. The job promised a home on the ranch as part of the employment package.

As soon as Emma drove onto the Rocking K, nestled in the greening hills of southeast British Columbia, she was overcome with an immediate sense of homecoming. She knew this was where she wanted to be.

“I got some carrots,” Adam called out, scurrying over to the corral, his fists full of bright orange carrots, fronds of green dangling on the ground behind him.

“Looks like you picked half a row,” Emma said with an indulgent laugh as she slipped the bridles off Dusty and Diamond.

“Only some,” he said with a frown. “There’s lots yet.” As Adam doled out the carrots to the waiting horses, his laughter drifted back to her over the afternoon air, a carefree, happy sound that warmed her heart.

When Adam was done, Emma climbed over the fence. As they walked back to the garden, she heard the door of Nana Beck’s house open. Carter came out carrying a tray, which he laid down on a small glass table on the covered veranda.

He looked up and across the distance. She saw his frown. And it seemed directed at her and Adam.

“What a day to be alive,” Nana Beck said, accepting the mug of tea Carter had poured. She settled into her chair on the veranda and eased out a gentle sigh.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Carter said quietly, spooning a generous amount of honey into his tea. “Really glad.”

“No inheritance for you and your cousins yet,” she said with a wink.

“I can wait.” He couldn’t share her humor. He didn’t want to think that his grandmother could have died while he was working up in the Northwest Territories on that pipeline job. Knowing she was okay eased a huge burden off his shoulders.

She gave him a gentle smile. “So can I.” She reached over and covered his hand with hers. “I’m so glad you came home.”

“I tried to come as soon as Shannon got hold of me. But I couldn’t get out of the camp. We were socked in with rain, and the planes couldn’t fly.” He gave her a smile, guilt dogging him in spite of her assurances. “So how are you feeling?”

“The doctor said that I seem to be making a good recovery,” Nana said, leaning back in her chair, her hands cradling a mug of tea. “He told me that I was lucky that Shannon was with me here on the ranch when I had the heart attack. They caught everything soon enough, so I should be back to normal very soon.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Carter said. “I was worried about you.”

“Were you? Really?” The faintly accusing note in his grandmother’s voice resurrected another kind of guilt.

“I came back because I was worried, and I came as soon as I could.” He gave her a careful smile.

“You’ve been away too long.” Her voice held an underlying tone of sympathy he wanted to avoid.

“Only two years,” he said, lounging back in his chair. He hoped he achieved the casual and in-control vibe he aimed for. He would need it around his grandmother.

Nana Beck had an innate ability to separate baloney from the truth. Carter knew he would need all his wits about him when he told her that his visit was temporary.

And that he wouldn’t be talking about his son.

“Two years is a long time.” She spoke quietly, but he heard the gentle reprimand in her voice. “I know why you stayed away, but I think it’s a good thing you’re back. I think you need to deal with your loss.”

“I’m doing okay, Nana.” He took a sip of tea, resting his ankle on his knee, hoping he looked more in control than he felt. He’d spent the past two years putting the past behind him. Moving on.

Then the sound of Adam’s voice rang across the yard from the garden.

“So how long have the woman and her boy lived here?” He avoided his grandmother’s gaze. He doubted she appreciated the sudden topic switch.

“Emma and Adam have been here about six months,” she said, looking over to where Adam kneeled in the dirt of the garden beside his mother, sorting potatoes. Emma’s hair, now free from her ponytail, slipped over her face as she bent over to drop potatoes in the pail. He had thought her hair was brown, but the sunlight picked out auburn highlights.

“She’s a wonderful girl,” his grandmother continued. “Hard worker. Very devoted to her son. She loves being here on the ranch. She grew up on one, worked on her father’s ranch before she came here.”

Carter dragged his attention back to his grandmother. “I’m sure she’s capable, or else Wade wouldn’t have hired her.”

“She raised her boy without any help,” his grandmother went on, obviously warming to her topic. “I believe she even rode the rodeo for a while. Of course, that was before she had her son. She’s had her moments, but she’s such a strong Christian girl.”

Carter’s only reply to his grandmother’s soliloquy in praise of Emma was an absent nod.

“She’s had a difficult life, but you’d never know it. She doesn’t complain.”

“Life’s hard for many people, Nana.”

“I know it is. It’s been difficult watching my daughters making their mistakes. Your mom coming back here as a single mother—your aunt Denise returning as a divorced woman. Trouble was, they came here to hide. To lick their wounds. Neither have been the best example to your brother and your cousins of where to go when life is hard, as you said. So to remind you I’ve got something for you.” Nana slowly got to her feet. When Carter got up to help her, she waved him off. She walked into the house, and the door fell closed behind her. In the quiet she left behind, Carter heard Adam say something and caught Emma’s soft laugh in reply.

He closed his eyes, memories falling over themselves. His son in the yard. Harry’s laugh. The way he loved riding horses—

The wham of the door pulled him out of those painful memories. Nana sat down again, her hands resting on a paper-wrapped package lying on her lap.

“Having this heart attack has been like a wake-up call for me in so many ways,” she said, her voice subdued and serious. “I feel like I have been given another chance to have some kind of influence in my grandchildren’s lives. So, on that note, this is for you.” She gave him the package. “I want you to open it up now so I can explain what this is about.”

Carter frowned but did as his Nana asked. He unwrapped a Bible. He opened the book, leafing through it as if to show Nana that he appreciated the gesture, when all it did was create another wave of anger with the God the Bible talked about.

He found the inscription page and read it.

“To Carter, from your Nana. To help you find your way back home.”

He released a light laugh. Home. Did he even have one anymore? The ranch wasn’t home if his son wasn’t here.

Losing Sylvia when Harry was born had been hard enough to deal with. He’d been angry with God for taking away his wife so young, so soon. But he’d gotten through that.

But for God to take Harry? When Carter had been working so hard to provide and take care of him?

“There’s something else.” Nana gave him another small box. “This isn’t as significant as the Bible, but I wanted to give this to remind you of your roots and how important they are.”

With a puzzled frown, Carter took the jeweler’s box and lifted the lid. Nestled inside lay a gold chain. He lifted it up, and his puzzlement grew. Hanging from the chain was a coarse gold nugget in a plain setting. It looked familiar.

Then he glanced at Nana’s wrist. Empty.

“Is this one of the charms from your bracelet?” he asked quietly, letting the sun play over the gold nugget.

“Yes. It is.” Nana touched it with a forefinger, making it spin in the light.

“But this is a necklace.”

“I took the five charms from my bracelet and had each of them made into a necklace. I am giving one to each of the grandchildren.”

“But the bracelet came from Grandpa—”

“And the nuggets on the bracelet came from your great-great-grandmother Kamiskahk.”

“I brought you potatoes, Nana Beck,” Adam called out, running toward them, holding up a pail.

There it was again. The name his son used to address his grandmother coming from the lips of this little boy.

It jarred him in some odd way he couldn’t define.

Adam stopped when he saw what Carter held. “Wow, that’s so pretty.” He dropped his pail on the veranda with a “thunk” and walked toward Carter, his eyes on the necklace Carter still held up. “It sparkles.”

In spite of his previous discomfort with the little boy, Carter smiled at the tone of reverence in Adam’s voice.

“Gold fever is no respecter of class or age,” he said, swinging it back and forth, making it shimmer in the sun.

“Is that a present for Nana Beck?” Adam asked.

“No. It’s a present from me to him,” Nana said, glancing from Carter to Adam.

“That’s silly. Nanas don’t give presents to big people.”

“You’re not the only one I give presents to,” Nana Beck said with a smile.

Carter couldn’t stop the flush of pain at the thought that his grandmother, who should be giving gifts to his son, was giving them to this little boy.

“Adam, don’t bother Nana Beck right now.” Emma hurried up the walk to the veranda and pulled gently back on his shoulder. She glanced from Nana to Carter, an apologetic smile on her face. “Sorry to disturb your visit. Adam was a little eager to make his delivery.”

“Did you see that pretty necklace that Mr. Carter has?” Adam pointed to the necklace that Carter had laid down on the Bible in his lap. “Is it real gold?”

“Actually, it is,” Nana Beck said. “I got it made from a bracelet I used to wear. Did you know the story about the bracelet, Adam?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just not on the ranch where …

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

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




Chapter Two


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks for the treats,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

Carter said nothing to that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carter said nothing to that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He should have …

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, but you’re here now.”

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

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

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




Chapter Three


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

What was she going to tell him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. But don’t ask me tomorrow.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her heart skipped a little at the sight.

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

“Good morning yourself,” Carter said, straightening.

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think so,” was all he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What does Nana Beck think of your plans?”

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

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

“I’m not going to let history dictate my choices,” Carter said, taking a final sip of his coffee. He tossed the remains out. “This place means nothing to me anymore.”

Carter’s reply held a heaviness that underlined the sorrow she’d seen in his eyes. He sounded like a man who had come to a place where there was no other option. She assumed it had to do with losing his son. “I’m sorry about ruining your plans,” he added.

Emma gave him a tight smile. “I thought asking was worth a try.” She gave a light laugh as if to show him that the dreams she had spun around owning her own place meant as little to her as the coffee he had just tossed out.

He tapped his cup against his thigh, his movements jerky. “I’m also sorry about your job,” he said. “Maybe the new owner could hire you.”

“Don’t worry about me,” she said, holding up her hand as if to placate him. “I can take care of myself and my son,” she added with more bravado than she felt. “Always have.”

How that would happen over the next few weeks, she wasn’t sure. But she had to put it in God’s hands. She had to trust that somehow, something would come up.

The jangling ring of a phone sounded from the cabin, and Carter glanced back over his shoulder.

“That’s my cell phone. I should answer it.” Then he was gone.

Well, wasn’t that a scintillating conversation. Emma spun around on her heels and strode back to Wade and Miranda’s house.

Don’t count on men. Don’t count on men.

The words pounded through her head in time with her steps.

She would be making her own phone calls this evening. Maybe she could take tomorrow off and go into town to look for a place for her and Adam to stay. Look for a job.

Her steps faltered at the thought, but she suppressed the negatives.

Help me to let go of my fears, Lord. Help me to trust only in You.

“Carter? You won’t believe this, but I think I got a buyer for the ranch.”

Carter leaned against the wall of his cabin, his hands tightening on his cell phone as the words of the real estate agent sunk in.

“Already? I just talked to you yesterday.” He tucked the phone under his chin as he made up the bed. He had turned down Miranda’s offer to move into the house, choosing to bunk in Hailey’s cabin. If he had known that Emma and her son were staying in Shannon’s place, one cabin over, he would have rethought his choice.

Seeing both of them coming out of his cousin’s cabin first thing this morning was an unwelcome jolt. He had assumed they were staying in the main house.

“Tell you the truth, I had a guy from Sweden, Jurgen Mallik, who came to town about six months ago, looking for property in the valley,” Pete said. “We went touring around and ended up at your place. He loved it and said, as a joke, if the place ever came up he was interested. So when you came in yesterday, I called him. He definitely wants to sign up something immediately. We can do that by fax if you want. He’s very excited, very interested and very well financed.”

“Wow. That’s quick,” Carter said, surprised at the lift of panic Pete’s words created.

“Quick is what you wanted.” Pete was quiet a moment, and in his hesitation Carter heard again all the warnings Pete had given him yesterday. How he shouldn’t rush into this. How he had to talk it over with his family. But two years of holding on to the past and waiting was hardly rushing into things. And now that Nana, one of the main reasons he had held on to the ranch, was moving, it was all the incentive he needed to get rid of the place and move on.

“So you’re sure none of your cousins are interested?” Pete continued. “Not even your brother, Garret?”

Carter threw the blanket over the bed and sat down, easing out a sigh. “He said no. And he’s the only one that can come close to affording it.” After talking to Nana Beck yesterday, he’d made some phone calls to his brother and cousins about the ranch.

Garret wasn’t interested at all. Their cousin, Naomi, was still dealing with her fiancé’s cancer and didn’t have enough money. Hailey would have loved to buy the ranch, but she was swimming in student loans and was desperate to pay them off. Furthermore, she knew nothing about running a ranch.

He had expected to get the strongest protest from Shannon, but when he told her his plans, she said she understood. When he asked her what Nana Beck would think, Shannon said that he had to go ahead with his own plans. Nana needed to live in town, closer to a hospital.

Which left Carter with no recourse but to go to Pete and list the property.

“So what’s the next move?” Carter asked, dragging his hands over his face.

“I’ll need you to come in as soon as possible and sign up a basic agreement for sale. I’ll fax a copy to Jurgen, and we’ll take it from there.”

“Do I need to stick around for all of that?”

“Once you sign the agreement, we can do a lot by email and phone. You don’t need to stick around after the initial paperwork, though it might be helpful.”

An image of Emma and Adam drifted through his mind, and he shook his head as if to dislodge it. “No. I’ll be leaving. The sooner I can get away from here the better.”

“Let me know when you can come in to sign, and we’ll be well on our way.”

“One other thing,” Carter said, feeling as if he owed Emma at least this. “There’s a woman who works here, Emma Minton.”

“Oh, yeah. I know Emma. She’s a good-looking gal.”

Which made Carter wonder if Pete was one of the guys who had asked her out.

As if that mattered.

“She’s asked me about subdividing an acreage off the property for her and her kid. When you talk to Jurgen, could you run it by him? See if he’d be willing to subdivide it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Nana Beck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t do that,” Adam complained.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More than likely annoyance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? When?” Wade dropped his fork and gripped the phone, his fingers white. “How is he … how are they?”

He got up and strode out of the kitchen, peppering the phone with anxious questions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course I’ll stay,” he said.

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

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




Chapter Four


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

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

A year before—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carter thought he’d never leave.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emma’s horses stamped, impatient to get going.

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

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

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

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

Banjo snorted and danced as Emma left with the horses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Routine can deaden you too,” he replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was falling, and Emma was too far away to help.

Carter reached up and snagged him around the waist, steadying him as he slipped off the fence.

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

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

Adam stopped pushing. Carter shifted him onto his hip, caught his balance and pulled the horse’s head around.

“Whoa, boy. Easy now,” he murmured, walking Banjo around in a circle. His horse took a quick sidestep as he shook his head and then blew. But his ears pricked up, and Carter knew he had the horse’s attention. “It’s okay,” he murmured, reassuring the horse.

“Will my bag of cookies scare him?” Adam said in a quiet voice, now resting one hand on Carter’s shoulder.

“I don’t think so,” Carter said, his own heart faltering at Adam’s touch. It had been two years since he held a little child. Two years since a child’s arm laid on his shoulder.

Adam smelled of fresh baking and warm sun and little boy. Longing and pain rose up in Carter, and he didn’t know which emotion was the strongest.

“Is everything okay?” Emma asked quietly.

“We’re fine,” Carter said, surprised at the tightness of his throat. When Adam saw his mother, though, he reached out for her.

Carter felt a sense of loss as Adam’s weight came off his hip and the little boy’s hand slipped off his shoulder. For just a moment, the emptiness had eased. For a nanosecond, his arms hadn’t felt so empty.

But right behind that came the pain.

“Sorry about that,” Emma said, setting Adam on the ground and then tousling his hair. “I’m sure Adam didn’t mean to startle Banjo.”

“No. He didn’t do anything.” Carter looked down at Adam, his heart beginning a heavy pounding. “I startled him, that’s all. I hope Adam’s okay.”

Adam squinted up at him, his face scrunched up as if trying to figure Carter out. “I’m okay,” he said quietly. “Thanks for helping me and for not getting mad at me.”

Carter couldn’t speak. How could he explain to this little boy the complications his presence created and the memories that resurfaced around him? It wasn’t Adam’s fault he was the same age Harry was when he died. But every time Carter saw him, the reminder of his loss plunged into his heart like a knife.

He caught Emma’s enigmatic expression. As if trying to puzzle him out.

Don’t bother, he wanted to tell her. It’s not worth it.

But as their gazes caught and meshed, she gave him a careful smile, as if forgiving him his confusion.

He wasn’t going to return it. He was also going to look away. But he couldn’t.

Something about her called to him, and as he looked into her soft brown eyes, emotions shifted deep within him.

“Are we going now?”

Adam’s voice jerked Carter back to reality and he looked away.

“That is the plan,” Emma replied. “But I want to go say goodbye to Wade and Miranda first. They’ll probably be gone by the time we return.” She looked at Carter. “Did you want to come too?”

“I’ve already said goodbye,” Carter said, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

“I’ll wait here with Mr. Carter.” Adam flashed him a grin as if all was well between them.

“Make sure you don’t eat all the cookies,” Emma called back as she walked away.

“The cows are looking good,” Emma said, leaning forward, her hands stacked on the saddle horn. Her eyes swept the green hills edged with fir trees, and she grinned as a half dozen calves chased each other along a fence line. Their tails were straight up and their legs stretched out. Running for no reason other than the fact that they could. Goofy creatures.

“Looks like we’ve got more animals on the pasture than other years,” Carter said, shifting in the saddle. “I’ve never seen the grass so long up here before. You’ve done good work here.”




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