Wrangling The Cowboy's Heart
Carolyne Aarsen
Love Under the Big SkyBack home in Montana, free spirit Jodie McCauley plans to stay at her late father’s ranch for just two months. Then she’ll sell the Rocking M and head off on her next adventure. But first she’ll have to take her beloved horses from wild to sellable. That means asking the boy she once loved for help. Finn Hicks is now a deputy sheriff and a horse trainer. Working so closely with Jodie, his feelings are suddenly resurfacing. But Finn remembers her as a wild child, not the family-oriented woman he’s looking for. A second chance seems impossible, but is there still hope for the rugged cowboy and his first love?
Love Under the Big Sky
Back home in Montana, free spirit Jodie McCauley plans to stay at her late father’s ranch for just two months. Then she’ll sell the Rocking M and head off on her next adventure. But first she’ll have to take her beloved horses from wild to sellable. That means asking the boy she once loved for help. Finn Hicks is now a deputy sheriff and a horse trainer. Working so closely with Jodie, his feelings are suddenly resurfacing. But Finn remembers her as a wild child, not the family-oriented woman he’s looking for. A second chance seems impossible, but is there still hope for the rugged cowboy and his first love?
He glanced over at her just as she looked at him.
Jodie wore her hair loose today, and it flowed over her narrow shoulders like melted chocolate. She gave him a wry smile, and for a moment he saw Keith McCauley looking back at him.
“You look just like your father,” he said.
You’re up on a mountain with a girl you’re growing attracted to and that’s what you come up with?
He gave himself a mental forehead smack.
“Thanks. I think,” she said, pushing her hair away from her face.
Unbidden came the memory of the moment in the corral the other day. Part of him wanted to give in to the attraction he knew was growing between them, but that would be foolish. She was leaving, and in spite of that, she wasn’t the right person for him.
Or so you keep saying.
He tried to banish the voice. Tried to be the practical guy he had always strived to be. He didn’t want to end up on the wrong side of a broken heart again.
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. Visit her website at carolyneaarsen.com (http://www.carolyneaarsen.com).
Wrangling the
Cowboy’s Heart
Carolyne Aarsen
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
You are my hiding place;
You will protect me from trouble
and surround me with songs of deliverance.
—Psalms 32:7
To Linda Ford, who helped me
every step of the way with this book.
Could not have done it without you, girlfriend!
And to Melissa, my editor, who helped
give this story shape and substance.
Both of you are proof that books
are never written in solitude and that
good partnerships make for good stories.
Contents
Cover (#ueefabfde-b010-57ac-9788-7d5dbe168bdd)
Back Cover Text (#ufcb5d684-1e4a-56a3-b1a0-a78e043fd05d)
Introduction (#ub1212871-ce7b-5395-8ea0-cb50c99e6107)
About the Author (#ubad4c81b-7354-5d0b-9c34-c68c017c97e7)
Title Page (#u49778857-0937-5aac-add9-df352207759a)
Bible Verse (#u3752f4b3-0c99-5249-a043-ada069eed65b)
Dedication (#u378d07b4-c9b9-5cba-8540-aa7ba662970a)
Chapter One (#u78e18df9-2171-5175-be5f-979bd512ddd1)
Chapter Two (#u765f5090-9a3a-5a97-bbaa-85678205a6ab)
Chapter Three (#u55c97a32-59ce-502b-a86d-de333f1fdc4f)
Chapter Four (#u918daf41-4ad2-5192-8507-4808c0426384)
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)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_4b0e3473-5328-556a-8ed7-e60d21a412a3)
Seriously? Two speeders in half an hour? Was there some unknown crisis people were outrunning?
Deputy Finn Hicks was not in the mood to deal with this. In two hours he was supposed to be delivering the eulogy at his old friend and mentor’s funeral. He had one more call, then he hoped to head home, shower and get to the church on time.
But he couldn’t let this go. The little blue car blew past him at least twenty miles per hour faster than the posted speed.
Finn pulled in a deep sigh, flicked on the flashers of his cruiser, spun it around and stepped on the gas to catch up with the vehicle speeding toward town. This shouldn’t take long if the driver cooperated.
Out-of-state license plates. Broken rear taillight, and it wasn’t stopping.
He beeped the siren to get the driver’s attention and then, finally, the car slowed and pulled over onto the shoulder.
Finn did a rapid run-through of the plates and his heart turned over in his chest.
Registered to one Jodie McCauley, twenty-seven years old. Female. Resident of Kansas. Onetime girlfriend of one Finn Hicks. If you could call one summer of romance being a girlfriend.
Jodie had no doubt returned to Saddlebank, Montana, for her father’s funeral. The same funeral he hoped to attend once his shift was done.
All he had heard lately of Jodie’s life had come from his friend Keith. Finn knew Jodie worked as a waitress during the day and played piano in bars at night.
Such a waste of her talent, he had often thought. Jodie had been set to audition for a prestigious music school in Maryland the summer they had dated, ten years ago.
She was also supposed to have gone on another date with him. A date he thought would move things from casual to serious.
She had ditched both appointments and never told him why. The rest of the summer she’d avoided him and hung out with a bad crowd. After that he’d never seen her again.
Until now.
The window rolled down as he came near. Jodie looked up at him through large, dark sunglasses, her mouth pert as always. Thick brown hair flowed over her shoulders, and in her bright red dress and gauzy purple scarf, she looked more as though she was on her way to a party than a funeral.
“Driver’s license, insurance and registration, please,” he stated, sounding more brusque than he liked.
A reaction to her effect on him.
“Sure thing,” she said, handing the papers to him. “Can I ask why you stopped me?”
Her voice was formal, her mouth unsmiling. She didn’t seem to recognize him, but then he was wearing sunglasses himself.
“You were speeding, ma’am.”
“I understood that the speed limit didn’t change for another mile,” Jodie said.
“The boundary changed a couple of years ago.”
“Has Mayor Milton been digging into the town of Saddlebank’s tax coffers again that they need to be replenished with speeding tickets?” she joked, her left elbow resting on the open window, her attitude bordering on cocky.
Still the same boundary-pushing girl he remembered.
“I need your driver’s license, Jodie. I mean, ma’am.”
Her name slipped out. Most unprofessional of him.
She frowned, then took off her sunglasses.
Eyes blue as a mountain lake and fringed with sooty eyelashes stared up at him, enhanced by dark eyebrows. Her fine features were like porcelain, and combined with her thick, brown hair, it was enough to take his breath away.
Then Jodie glanced down at his chest and he saw the moment she recognized him. Her cocky smile faded away and for a moment, her lashes lowered over her eyes. Her shoulders lifted slowly, as if she was drawing in a calming breath.
“Hey, Finn. Or should I say Sheriff Hicks?” Her voice held a faintly taunting note, which bothered him more than he cared to admit.
“It’s deputy. Sheriff Donnelly is still around,” he said, unable to stop the confused flow of memories as he thought of her father sitting by himself at the dining room table of the ranch he owned, lamenting the fact that his three daughters never came to visit anymore. Keith McCauley had been a good friend and mentor to Finn, helping him through a rough time in his life after his father died when Finn was fifteen. Finn’s mother had retreated into herself after that, and then Finn had come home from school one bitterly cold March day to find out her gone. She had left a note on the table telling him she needed to focus on her musical career. That she would be back. She just wasn’t sure when.
Worried about his mother, Finn had called Keith, who’d been a deputy at the time. Keith had come and driven him to his house. The next day he’d brought him over to the Moore family, who had taken him in. Finn’s mother had come home four months later, and he’d moved back in with her. But a week later she’d left again.
Though she’d popped in and out of his life after that, he’d stayed with the Moores until he could move out on his own.
Keith had encouraged him and helped him through that difficult time. It had been Keith who’d introduced him to his fiancée, Denise. Keith who had encouraged him to date her after Keith had met her at the hospital in Bozeman.
“Hate to rush the long arm of the law,” Jodie said, her voice holding a surprisingly tight note, “but am I getting a ticket or...?”
Finn mentally shook off the sad memories. “In honor of your father, a man I admired, I’ll let you off today,” he said, meeting her gaze. “He was a good man.”
She looked up at him, her blue eyes flat now. Expressionless. “I’m sure he was good to you.”
Her cryptic comment confused him, but he guessed her emotions were volatile on a day like today, so he let it go. He had heard from Keith that his three daughters had planned to visit him after his cancer diagnosis. But before that happened Keith had been killed when his truck rolled upside down.
Finn stood aside as Jodie rolled up the window, started the car.
He half expected her to peel off, tires spinning, but she slowly pulled away, keeping to the speed limit this time.
Her car topped the rise, the heat shimmering up from the pavement, distorting it, and then it dropped into the valley, disappearing from view.
Now he had to finish his shift, clean up and try to get to the funeral on time. But as he drove to his last call of the day, all his thoughts were of those blue, blue eyes.
* * *
Jodie clutched the single rose she held, staring at the casket bearing the remains of her father as the pastor read from the Bible. With her other arm she clung to her sister Lauren as a flock of ravens whistled overhead. The birds were a funereal black against the blue Montana sky that stretched from one mountain range to the other, cradling the basin the town of Saddlebank nestled in.
She took in a deep breath, slowing her still-racing heart, memories as raucous as the birds above them swirling through her mind. The service in the church had been mercifully brief and surprisingly difficult. Jodie’s own emotions were so mixed as she listened to the pastor talking about her father’s life. She wondered if they knew the same person.
Do not speak ill of the dead.
Her grandmother’s words resounded in Jodie’s mind. Her dear grandmother, who had also passed on, like Jodie’s mother had. So many losses, she thought.
Only half her attention was on the casket and the pastor. The other half was on the man who stood toward the back of the sparse crowd assembled around the grave.
He was taller than the last time she’d seen him. Which wasn’t a memory she enjoyed pulling out.
That summer had been both wonderful and awful. She’d dated Finn, and lost her chance at her audition for the music conservatory.
After her parents’ divorce and their subsequent move to Knoxville with their mom, she and her sisters had spent their summers in Saddlebank with their father. He’d never approved of her seeing Finn. Keith McCauley thought Finn Hicks was too good for her.
But at the beginning of that summer Jodie had felt her life was coming to a good place. She was falling in love with a wonderful guy. Which had scared her, and led her to do something very stupid.
She was still dealing with the repercussions of that decision and her father’s reaction to this day. After that summer, she’d never seen Finn again.
Until a couple hours ago.
Seeing Finn in the same uniform her father always wore, a uniform that evoked too many bad memories, was a shock, and yet not a surprise. Finn had always been a solid, salt-of-the-earth guy. Which was what had attracted her to him initially.
She wondered what he would think of her now, working as a waitress during the day, playing piano in bars at night.
Jodie sneaked another glance at Finn, dismayed to catch him returning her gaze. But he looked quickly away, his hazel eyes now focused on Keith’s coffin. Finn had grown from an appealing teen into a handsome man, his strong features, square chin and broad shoulders granting him an authority that seemed ingrained. His dark brown hair, worn longer than her father’s regulation haircut, curled just enough to soften his face.
She shouldn’t have been surprised that Finn had followed in her father’s footsteps. The eulogy Finn had delivered a few moments ago was lavish in his praise of a man he’d said had been a mentor to him. A shining example of Christian love in quiet action.
It had been a difficult funeral, Jodie thought, clenching and unclenching her right hand. Leaning on her sister as she so often did.
Lauren wore a sensible black dress, a stark and suitable contrast to her own bright red one. Jodie had refused to wear black, reasoning that with her dark hair she’d look washed out, but now she felt a touch of regret at her choice. She looked as though she didn’t care, when, in fact, her emotions concerning her dad were complex and confusing.
For better or for worse, he was still her father, and now he was gone.
Her older sister stared at the coffin, her pale face framed by her long blond hair, her blue eyes blinking, her narrow shoulders hunched protectively. She pressed Jodie’s arm to her side.
Jodie wondered if she, too, thought of their missing sister, Lauren’s twin. When they had contacted Erin to make the arrangements, all Lauren or Jodie had got in reply were terse text messages stating she couldn’t come. Nothing else.
At a signal from the pastor, Lauren laid her rose on the casket. Jodie did the same, followed by Aunt Laura, their father’s sister. Their aunt was short and plump, her graying hair cut in a shoulder-length bob. She wore a simple gray blazer, slacks and sensible shoes, as befitting the funeral of her brother. She placed her rose on the coffin, then stepped aside to let Monty Bannister, a tall, heavyset man who was their father’s distant cousin, and his wife, Ellen, who barely made it to Monty’s shoulder, do the same.
“In the name of the Father, Son and the Holy Spirit, we commend the body of our brother Keith McCauley to the ground,” Pastor Dykstra said, his voice tugged away on the breeze swirling around the graveyard. “And we cling to the promise of the resurrection of the dead. The hope of our eternal life.”
Jodie said a quiet amen, a shiver traveling down her spine at the thought of eternal life. Facing God with the mess that had been her life the past ten years. That was one of the reasons she’d avoided God lately.
The casket slowly descended into the ground, and with each inch Jodie felt the complicated bonds tethering her to her father loosen. It had been years since she’d last seen him. Years since that horrible fight that had changed her life, broken the connection between her and Finn and sent her running away from him and everything he represented.
She’d called her father a few times a year. Each time she’d been on the receiving end of a litany of complaints and grumblings, and guilt piled on her for not coming to see him.
Then he had been diagnosed with cancer. But only weeks before she and her sisters had arranged to visit, their father was killed in a single-vehicle accident.
“The family would like to invite everyone to meet in the church hall for some lunch,” Pastor Dykstra announced, ending the funeral service.
People started drifting away and Jodie took a deep breath, knowing what lay ahead. Well-wishers and sympathy and a headache that increased with each passing moment. She caught a glimpse of Finn walking to another part of the graveyard, then stopping by a stone.
Jodie wondered if it was his father’s grave, remembering that his dad had died when Finn was only fourteen.
Finn’s smile was melancholy as he looked down, then ran his fingers over the stone, as if trying to connect with whoever was buried there. His sorrow caught at her heart. She doubted she would ever look at her father’s grave with the same love that seemed to shine in Finn’s eyes.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Pastor Dykstra said as he shook Lauren’s hand, resting his other on Jodie’s shoulder. Jodie focused her attention back on the man with another surge of remorse. “Your father talked often of you girls.”
Pastor Dykstra shook Jodie’s hand, his kindly eyes holding hers. “I pray you will let God comfort you at this time.”
She nodded, giving him a smile. He squeezed her hand again, then walked away from the grave toward the church.
Monty Bannister also shook Jodie’s, then Lauren’s hand. “I hope that you’ll be able to remember some of the good times you had with your father,” he said, giving them both a winsome smile. “And that you feel God’s presence in your lives.”
Jodie wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She hadn’t spent a lot of time with God lately and doubted that He cared to spend much time with her. Nor was she so sure which memories of her father she would be remembering. When she and her sisters had come to visit, it was as if he hadn’t known what to do with his daughters other than make them work. Each summer had been fraught with the tension of living with a man who, as sheriff of Saddlebank County, saw life in black-and-white. No shades of gray. A man who for some reason was especially hard on Jodie.
So she simply murmured her thanks. She was quite certain that even if Monty knew exactly what her father was like, he would have said the same thing.
“You girls make sure you call us if you need anything,” Ellen told them, clinging to both their hands, her smile warm.
“Thank you,” Jodie and Lauren said at the same time.
Jodie had only vague remembrances of Monty, Ellen and their three children, Keira, Heather and Lee. Keith had taken them only a few times to Refuge Ranch, the Bannister spread. Because Lauren and Erin were older, they’d hung out with Keira and Heather, leaving Jodie to play with either the cats in the barn or the horses.
“How are you girls holding out?” Aunt Laura slipped an arm around Lauren, giving Jodie a quick smile.
“This is harder than I thought it would be,” Lauren said, wiping her eyes. “I feel so bad that we didn’t take the time to see him before he died.”
“Oh, honey, you meant to,” their aunt assured her. “I know you were making plans. He was excited at the thought of seeing you both. I’m sure you have good and bad memories, and like cousin Monty said, I hope you can find some of the good ones,” she continued.
“Thanks, Aunt Laura,” Jodie said, giving her a hug. “It’s so good to see you again.”
“We’ll have to make sure to get together while you girls are still here. Knowing you, Jodie, you’ll be gone with the first puff of wind sifting through the valley.” Aunt Laura raised her finely plucked eyebrows. “I’ll give you girls a moment while I make certain the caterer has taken care of the lunch.”
As their aunt marched off to do her duty, Lauren took a deep breath, blinking back tears, and pulled a tissue out of the pocket of her dress. “I can’t believe I feel this way,” she sniffed. “I didn’t think I’d be so weepy.”
“Part of it might be because Erin’s not here,” Jodie said, tucking her arm in her sister’s. “You two always had a special bond.”
A bond that Jodie, at times, envied. Her twin sisters always seemed so self-sufficient, and though they included Jodie in many of their antics and adventures, she often felt like an outsider to their relationship.
“Why wouldn’t she come?” Lauren asked, the pain she felt evident in her voice.
“Obviously something’s happening in her life and she needs to deal with it.” That was all Jodie could say.
Her sister gave her a wan smile. “How are you doing? Today can’t be easy for you, either.”
Though Lauren had often witnessed Jodie and her father’s altercations, she had never been subject to his intense anger, as Jodie had been whenever she messed up. It didn’t help that the two of them had the same quick temper.
Jodie had spent way more hours in “time out” than her sisters. It had only increased her rebelliousness, finally ending with her stopping her visits to the ranch.
“It’s hard,” she said now, emotions braiding through her memories as she tried to find the good ones that the pastor suggested she look for.
Lord, forgive me, she thought. I can’t think of many.
Chapter Two (#ulink_6dd6bad4-1d09-5ca6-91d4-2d7538e85a1c)
Keith’s funeral service was harder to deal with than Finn had expected it would be.
Though Finn came to church every Sunday, the atmosphere there today and at the graveyard afterward reminded him of his fiancée’s funeral four years ago. Except then the church had been packed and the people surrounding the grave spilled over into the parking lot—all grieving with Finn over a life taken so young.
As he’d followed Denise’s casket out of the church that sad day, Finn thought he would never love anyone again, never find anyone as sweet and caring as Denise.
And he hadn’t, though lately a loneliness had begun to affect him. Loneliness and a growing dissatisfaction with his life.
It didn’t help that, after popping erratically in and out of his life over the past thirteen years, his mother had contacted him again a couple weeks ago. After Denise had died, the only thing he’d got from his mom had been a card with the words I’m sorry scrawled inside. He was thankful he’d had the support of the Moore family and Keith during that time.
Finn shook off the heavy emotions as he looked down at the memorial card the funeral director had handed him when he came into the church. Keith’s stern face with his distinctive handlebar mustache stared back at him, his eyes distant. The picture was an older one Finn had taken when he and Keith had spent more time together. Was it his imagination or did he see the loneliness the man had endured over the years?
Remorse washed over Finn again as he thought of how he had neglected him recently.
At one time, Finn had spent all his extra hours at Keith’s ranch, helping him with his horses while he learned farrier work. After Finn’s own father died and his mother had abandoned him, Keith had been like a father to him.
But the past few years Keith had pulled away. Hadn’t returned Finn’s calls, wouldn’t come to church. Finn had been grieving the loss of Denise, lost in his own sorrow.
He smoothed his hand over his tie, blinked back the fatigue that pulled at him after a long shift and forced a sympathetic smile to his face as the line moved on.
Lauren, one of the twins, was the first person he saw, her face drawn, her long blond hair and dark dress a sharp contrast to her younger sister’s dark hair and red dress. The only similarity was the narrowness of their features. Like their mother, Finn thought, remembering a family photo he had seen the first time he’d visited the ranch.
Finn was surprised that Erin, Lauren’s twin sister, was absent. Of all the girls she seemed to love being at the ranch every summer the most.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Finn said to Lauren when he stepped up to her.
“Thanks for coming, Finn. My father thought a lot of you.” She gave him a weary smile. “I’m sure you’ll miss him.”
“I will. He was good to me.”
He moved on to Jodie, surprised once more at how easily his own memories and emotions returned.
“Hello again, Jodie. Long time.”
“That it is.” She glanced up at him, and once again he felt the impact of her unsettling gaze, the contrast of her almost black hair and her intensely blue eyes. She had been pretty when she was younger. Now she was stunning, and as he shook her hand, the loneliness that lingered since Denise’s death made him hold it longer than was proper.
“Glad you could make the funeral on time,” he said.
Her mouth curved in a faint smile and the ghost of a dimple appeared in one cheek.
“All thanks to you,” she said. “I appreciate getting out of the ticket.”
He frowned, glancing around. “Don’t say that too loud. I have a reputation to uphold.”
Jodie laughed, catching the attention of a few people. “Well, according to Shakespeare, reputation is a burden, got without merit and lost without deserving...or something like that.”
That made Finn smile. “Did you remember that or did you make that up?”
“Google it and find out.”
He held her eyes a moment, surprised at how easy it was to fall back into the give-and-take that had attracted him the first time he talked to her. Then he caught himself. He was at a funeral, and this was Jodie. A girl more like his absent mother than his beloved fiancée. How could he forget that?
“I also want to give you condolences from Sheriff Donnelly,” Finn continued, finally pulling his hand away. “He would have come but he was busy, so he asked me to represent him, as well. Donnelly always said your father was a good sheriff. Tough, but fair.”
Jodie’s smiled faded. “Yes. That was Dad. Keeping the world safe for carbon-based life forms.”
Finn wanted to smile at her quip, which was the same thing Keith McCauley had always said, but the bitterness in her voice quenched that. He didn’t know what to make of it.
“Anyway, I’m sure you and your sisters will have lots to deal with in the next few days,” he continued. “Will you be staying at the Rocking M, I mean your father’s ranch?”
“I will be for a couple of days. Hopefully we can get everything sorted out by then and I’ll be on my way,” Jodie said. She shifted her weight, as if moving away from him, and Finn got the hint. She hadn’t changed, he told himself. Jodie McCauley, on the move.
Ever since he’d watched her drive away a few hours ago, he’d found himself thinking of their past, of how Jodie had meant something to him.
When he was eighteen, it had taken him weeks to work up enough courage to ask out the daughter of his mentor, the sheriff.
He finally had and to his surprise she had accepted. They’d had a good time. He’d thought they’d connected. But she’d always insisted on meeting in Mercy, a small town thirty miles down the valley. Finn hadn’t liked sneaking around, but she’d been insistent.
On their dates they would talk about their plans for the future—he wanted to start his own ranch, she wanted to play piano professionally. They would share jokes, laugh and make other plans to meet.
He’d thought things were getting serious, but then she’d stood him up one night.
The next day he’d been shocked to see her in town. She was supposed to have been leaving for Maryland that morning for an audition for the Peabody Institute, a music conservatory. Instead, she’d been hanging on the arm of Jaden Woytuk, local bad boy, laughing about the bandage on her hand that kept slipping off.
Later Finn had found out she’d gone to a party at Jaden’s place the night of their date. She’d stood him up to hang out with that rough crowd.
The rest of the summer Jodie’s reputation as a wild girl just got worse. And when she’d left to go home to Knoxville, that was the last he’d seen of her.
Until today.
She stood by her sister now, talking with Monty and Ellen, from Refuge Ranch. Her smile softened her features and then, to his surprise, she glanced his way. Their eyes met and he felt again that old quiver of attraction.
“Finn Hicks. I need to talk to you.”
Finn dragged his attention away from Jodie to the man standing in front of him, a mug of coffee in one hand, a chocolate brownie in the other. Vic Moore was easily as tall as Finn, but blond where he was dark, his shoulders broader. And his face was the kind that Finn knew women found attractive, with slashing eyebrows framing deep-set eyes, full lips and a strong chin. Good thing he was like a brother to Finn or he might not like him as much as he did.
“Hey, Moore.” Finn poured himself some coffee, then grabbed a brownie, which would have to do until he could get a decent meal. “What can I do for you?”
“First off, good eulogy.”
“Thanks, though it didn’t seem to say enough. I’ll always be grateful for the support and guidance Keith gave me.”
“You had a good relationship with him.”
“I did. I’ll miss the guy.” Finn felt a touch of guilt. The past few years, he and Keith had drifted apart. Finn had gotten busier with his job as sheriff’s deputy and his growing business as a farrier and horse trainer.
“Do you have time to come over tomorrow and help me round up the horses I have pastured at Keith’s ranch?” Vic asked.
“Donnelly has me on a light schedule this week but I’ll figure it out.” For Finn, any time spent with horses was a good day.
“Dean and I hoped to do some riding,” Vic continued. “My brother needs some distraction, and the physiotherapist cleared him to ride. But I first have to get the horses together. I figured it would be best, now that Keith is gone, to get my horses off the ranch.”
“I’ll make it work.” Because he was still establishing his farrier and training business, Finn tried to fit in any potential job.
Suddenly he heard a burst of laughter, which was odd considering the circumstances, and sought out the source. Jodie stood beside Drake Neubauer, Keith’s lawyer, smiling at something he had just said.
“She’s even prettier than when she lived here, isn’t she?” Vic said.
Finn startled, feeling as if he’d been caught doing something illegal. “What do you mean?”
“Keith’s girl. Lauren.”
Guess Vic was too busy scoping out the older sister to notice Finn doing the same with Jodie.
“Yeah. She is,” he conceded. With her blond hair and blue eyes, Lauren reminded him of Denise, but the comparison ended with the stern lines on her face. Truth to tell, of the three sisters, Jodie had always intrigued him the most. The combination of her smart mouth and her troubled expression when he’d stopped her car today created a disconnect with the Jodie from his past, one that piqued his curiosity. She looked as if life had thrown her some hard curves since she’d left Saddlebank.
“Funny how those girls can be sisters, but each be so different,” Vic said, taking another sip of his coffee. “Jodie still seems to have that reckless air.”
“She was a pistol,” Finn agreed.
“That girl could outdrive, outride most of the guys in the county that last summer she was here. It was just ’cause Donnelly and Keith were buddies that Jodie managed to duck as many charges she did.”
Finn’s cheeks flushed as he thought of how he had let her off a speeding ticket himself a few hours ago.
He tried to convince himself it was merely common courtesy and had nothing to do with anything Jodie said or did.
And nothing to do with those striking blue eyes and glossy dark hair.
“You gonna ask her out again?” Vic gave him a nudge with his elbow. “Not too many single girls that good-looking come through Saddlebank. I’m sure she’s settled down some since she was younger.”
“I doubt I’ll be asking,” Finn said, remembering too well a girl who’d spent most of that last summer she was here partying, drinking and challenging her father at every opportunity. “I don’t think I’m interested.”
“Jodie’s no Denise, that’s for sure,” Vic continued. “But she is single. I think you should give her another chance. Maybe this time she won’t stand you up.”
“You’re joking, right?” Finn asked.
“Of course I am. Wouldn’t want to mess up your ten-year plan,” Vic said, laughing, then sauntered out of the hall without a backward glance.
Finn shook his head at his friend’s comment. He had to have a plan, he reminded himself. Changing plans and ditching people was his mother’s MO. There was no way he was going to live that kind of life.
As for Jodie, his reaction to her had more to do with her past than her present. He needed to forget it. Move on.
He downed the last of his coffee. He had a few things to do at work before he headed to the Grill and Chill to grab a bite to eat. Then he’d get back to his ranch to work with a horse he was training.
But before he left he allowed himself another glance Jodie’s way.
Only to find her looking at him, a peculiar expression on her face.
* * *
“So what can we do about this?”
Jodie held up the letter their father’s lawyer had just given them, the noise of the Grill and Chill diner a counterpoint to the frustration simmering in her.
After the funeral, she and Lauren had met with Drake Neubauer, their father’s lawyer, at his office to go over the will.
For the most part, it was straightforward. He had bequeathed half the cash in his account to the church. The rest was for any unexpected expenses incurred by his death. The ranch, horses, equipment and any remaining assets were to be split equally among the three girls.
But this letter was a complication that seemed typical of their father’s need for control.
“Read it again,” Lauren said wearily. She leaned back against the booth, dragging her hands over her gaunt cheeks. Jodie guessed the weariness pulling at her sister had as much to do with her humiliation over being left at the altar eighteen months ago as Erin’s puzzling and disturbing no-show at the funeral. Their sister’s only contact with them the past six months had been brief text messages that communicated nothing more than basic information. Lauren and Jodie were both concerned.
“‘I know that I haven’t been the best father.’” Jodie stifled a sigh at that particular understatement as she continued reading the letter aloud. “‘I know you girls never wanted to leave Knoxville and come to the ranch every summer after your mother died. I know you only came because your grandmother insisted.’” Jodie shook her head after she read that. “I don’t know why that bothers me,” she said. “It’s not as though he wanted us there, either.”
“No editorializing,” Lauren said with a wave of her hand.
Jodie cleared her throat and continued.
“‘But it was your first home. That’s why you’re getting it when I die. This cancer is gonna kill me one way or the other. And I know you’re gonna sell the ranch as soon as you get it. But before you can sell it, I want each of you to spend two months on the ranch. I talked to Drake Neubauer, and he said I should change my will officially, but until I do that, consider this a condition of inheriting the ranch. You girls never appreciated it like I knew you should. So this is what I want you to do before you can sell the place. If you don’t want to stay, you lose your part of the inheritance. If none of you want to stay, then I made other plans. Drake will let you know what happens if that’s the case. Dad.’”
Jodie clutched the paper, stifling her annoyance. “This is so typical of Dad. Has he ever given us anything without a proviso attached? It seems as if every job or chore he wanted us to do was issued as a nonnegotiable decree.”
“You might be reading more into this than meets the eye,” Lauren replied, ever the peacemaker. “You and Dad always had a volatile relationship.”
Lauren knew only the half of it. When she and Erin turned eighteen, they’d stopped coming to the ranch. Both had gone to college and took on summer jobs, leaving Jodie to spend two more summers alone with their father. They’d fought at every turn, Jodie often on the receiving end of his anger.
She tamped down the memories, as she always did when they threatened.
And how are you going to keep them at bay for two months if you stay?
“I always figured Dad and I never got along because I was the only one who got to see the big fight that changed everything,” Jodie said, fingering one edge of the letter.
Jodie had been in the barn loft, playing with kittens, when she’d heard her parents’ raised voices below her. She’d come down to see her father yelling at their mother to leave the ranch and take her daughters with her. Jodie, shocked and defensive of her mom, had yelled at him not to talk to her that way. But he’d ignored her, walking away. Her mother and sisters had left the ranch the next day and Jodie had never forgiven him. She was only seven at the time.
“It didn’t help that you always egged him on,” Lauren continued.
“It also didn’t help that he never believed me when I told him I’d just been out with friends, and not partying like he always accused me of.”
“Well, you were partying, toward the end.”
“Only because I figured I may as well do what he always accused me of, and have fun.”
“Was it fun?”
Jodie caught the unspoken reprimand in her sister’s tone and looked down at the letter.
It was an echo of the one she’d voiced whenever Jodie had tried to tell her sisters about what had really happened those summers alone on the ranch. They’d often questioned her, citing the steady antagonism between Jodie and her father as the reason. So she’d kept her mouth shut, endured her father’s alternating stony silences and spewing anger.
And, increasingly, his physical punishment.
“So what do we do about this?” Jodie said, resting her elbows on the scarred Formica table.
“I’m too busy to take two months away from work,” Lauren said, clutching her coffee mug. “Things are too iffy with my job. Would it stand up in court if we don’t agree to the terms of the letter? Could we still sell the ranch and get the money?”
“This document was verified by the lawyer...” Jodie let the sentence fade away as she skimmed the letter again. Her father’s distinct scrawl covered the page, and below that was a note from Drake Neubauer proving this was indeed Keith McCauley’s handwriting and that this was a legal and binding document. “I can see why Dad wanted us to read this after the funeral. I’m sure if I heard it before, I would have had a hard time concentrating on the service.”
Not that Finn’s presence had made it easier.
“What do you suppose the ranch is worth?” Lauren asked.
“Enough to help us out in our own ventures, I would guess,” Jodie said. “Might be something you’d want to look into before you decide you can’t do this.”
“And you?”
Jodie shrugged. “Money’s never been that important to me.”
Lauren looked as if she was about to say something more when their waitress brought a bowl of soup and a salad for Lauren, pizza and onion rings for Jodie.
“That is the most unhealthy combination of foods I can imagine,” Lauren sniffed as the waitress left.
“It feeds my soul as well as my stomach,” Jodie said, grabbing the bottle of ketchup to douse her onion rings. “Comfort food.”
“I guess we could both use some of that.” Lauren gave her a rueful smile, then bowed her head.
With a guilty start Jodie realized her sister was praying a silent blessing over her food. Belatedly she followed suit.
Forgive me, Lord, she prayed. I haven’t talked a lot to You lately. I’m sorry. I haven’t felt as if I have the right. My life’s been a mess, so I guess I could use some help there. Regret and remorse rose up again as the memories surfaced. But she caught herself in time. The past was done, even though the pain and repercussions lingered.
She finished her prayer with a thank-you for her food.
“So tell me about this music gig you’ll be doing?” Lauren asked. “Any future in it?”
Trust her to cut to the chase. Ever the older sister, Lauren had always been after Jodie to find something that gave her a career.
“It’s not a huge job and there’s no guarantee,” Jodie said. “But if it goes well, there’s a good chance that the band will open for this new breakout group. We might be touring with them.”
“Might be.”
Jodie waved off Lauren’s comment. “Everything in this business is hearsay or odds. Besides, I’ll find work waitressing if I need to fill in any gaps.”
“And what about your composing? Would you be able to keep doing that?”
“I don’t know if I’d have the time,” Jodie said, feeling a vague pang. “If this gig doesn’t happen, I’ll work enough to save up for a trip to Thailand. Maybe write some music there.”
“Running again?”
Jodie felt a flare of indignation at the censure in her sister’s voice. “It’s called traveling. Expanding your horizons. You should try it sometime instead of tying yourself to your job.”
“My job gives me security. Something you don’t seem to have. Besides, I don’t know how you can afford all these trips.”
“Simple. No obligations. Nothing pinning me down. Free as a bird.” Jodie waved her hand as if underlining her mantra. “Driving an old car and taking in tips help.”
“You’ll never settle down, living the life you do. You’ll never find anyone.”
“Don’t need anyone. Not after Lane.”
“Lane was a mistake. I don’t think the two of you were suited to each other.”
Though she knew Lauren was right, her sister’s comment struck at Jodie’s latent insecurities. It had taken her almost a year to get past the anger and pain she felt when her former fiancé had broken up with her.
He had asked for his ring back after he saw a stranger flirting with Jodie while she worked her second job, playing piano at a bar.
Lane had always wanted her to quit that job. He’d felt that, as the son of a US senator, he had a reputation to uphold.
But Jodie knew she had no other marketable skills. She valued her independence and the money she made, so she’d stayed with it. Then one night one of her regular patrons had sat down beside her, put his arm around her and kissed her on the cheek just as Lane had come in. Jodie had denied there was anything going on between them, but Lane had chosen not to believe her and had asked for his ring back.
Two weeks later she’d found out he was dating the daughter of a minister. A much more suitable woman for someone like him.
Jodie hadn’t been in a serious relationship since.
“You deserve someone who accepts you for who you are,” Lauren continued.
“Doesn’t matter.” She shrugged off her sister’s protests. “Since I haven’t found anyone who interests me enough to think of settling down, I prefer to be the one in charge. Be the one walking away.”
As soon as the words left her lips, she realized how they might sound to her sister, whose fiancé had walked away from her the morning of their wedding.
“Sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean to say that.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Lauren muttered, but Jodie could see from the tightness around her lips that it did. Jodie had been with her sister when she’d gotten the news. Lauren had been just about to put on her wedding dress. Instead, her normally composed sister had kicked it aside, tossed her bouquet down and stormed out of the room, leaving Erin and Jodie to take care of all the details.
“Anyway, I don’t want to be tied down.”
“Well, with the life you live, you don’t have time to give anyone else a chance,” Lauren said, lifting her head. “Maybe staying in one place for two months might be just what you need.”
Much as Jodie trumpeted her freedom, the idea of being at the ranch held a reluctant allure. The past couple years she’d had a curious yearning, the strange feeling that she’d been missing something. The trips, the traveling, the work—nothing satisfied her as it used to. She couldn’t quite put her finger on why.
“And maybe, if you stay in one place, you might have time to spend with Finn again,” Lauren continued.
Jodie started. “What are you talking about?”
“I saw how you watched him at the funeral service, and then the reception after,” Lauren said, giving her sister a vague smile.
“I was thinking about how he stopped me for speeding.”
“Oh, c’mon. He was just doing his job. And look how sweet he is, chatting up the locals over at the other table.”
Finn was here? Jodie couldn’t resist a glance over her shoulder.
Deputy Hicks stood by a table, talking with a group of older women. He seemed to dominate the space, his back ramrod straight, his white shirt and blue jeans softening his military stance. It shouldn’t surprise her that Finn had ended up in law enforcement. The man had made no secret of his admiration for her father.
“A little too ‘serve and protect’ for my liking. Like Dad. No, thanks,” she said, with what she hoped was a dismissive tone.
Then Finn turned around and looked her way. Their eyes met across the distance and his expression altered. In that moment Jodie felt a whisper of the old attraction.
No. Not for you, she told herself. You and guys equal disaster. Especially someone like Finn.
She dragged her eyes away, focusing on her onion rings. Then felt Lauren’s foot nudging her under the table. “He’s coming this way,” she hissed. “Fix your lipstick.”
Jodie gave her sister the evil eye, hoping she got the message—Not Interested.
“Afternoon, ladies,” Finn said, looking from Jodie to Lauren. “I thought I would come by to say hello again. Hope this day wasn’t too difficult for you. I know it didn’t start off the best.”
He caught Jodie’s eye and she knew he referred to their interaction this morning. She blushed, thinking of her smart remarks, but brushed the memory aside.
“We’ll get through it.” She gave him a polite smile.
“I didn’t have time to tell you after the funeral, but I wanted to say how thankful I always was for your father’s support. He was a good man. He missed you girls a lot. He often spoke about you and how he wished you could visit more often.”
Jodie took a moment to respond to that, then felt another nudge from her sister’s toe.
“I’m sure he did,” she finally replied. “It’s been difficult to find time to come.”
Her empty words sounded shallow, even to her. She’d managed to find time to go to Asia, India and Paris, but not a trip to Saddlebank? But she wasn’t about to apologize for her lack of filial duty.
“I also thought I should let you know that Vic and I will be coming to your place tomorrow. Your dad let Vic pasture a bunch of his horses there, and we want to sort them out of your father’s herd. I wanted to give you a heads up in case you’re wondering what’s going on.”
“Thanks for telling us,” Lauren said. “Jodie will be staying at the ranch, so if you need anything you can ask her.”
Jodie pushed her sister’s foot this time, but Lauren smiled, ignoring her.
“I think we’ll be okay. And I wish you girls the best,” he said, looking from one to the other. “Hope settling the estate won’t be too painful and you manage to find some happier memories.” Just before he left, his eyes met Jodie’s.
And for a heartbeat their gazes locked and she wondered if he was referring to their shared past.
Then he put his hat back on his head and left. The moment was gone.
Jodie grabbed an onion ring and swiped it through the pile of ketchup on her plate, surprised at the emotions churning through her where Finn was concerned.
Lauren leaned forward, her eyes glinting with amusement. “I think he still likes you. I saw how he stared at you now.”
“You saw what you wanted to see. I saw a man who thinks we’re lousy daughters who didn’t visit a man he thought the sun rose and set on.”
“He was just making conversation. He still seems interested in you.”
“Maybe it was you he was interested in,” Jodie countered. “I was the one that stood him up, remember? Besides, he’s a deputy now. Not the kind of guy I’d be attracted to. Been there, done that.”
“Not all men are like Dad, you know,” Lauren said. “And not all men are like Lane. Once upon a time you were attracted to Finn.”
Jodie’s only answer was to take a bite of her pizza. Her sister was right, but she wasn’t about to let someone like Finn into her life again.
He was too much a reminder of all that she had lost. All that her father had taken away. And she couldn’t let herself feel that vulnerable again.
Chapter Three (#ulink_b31ccabf-52bd-56f0-917d-fcd0188ea6de)
Jodie stepped into the house, déjà vu washing over her as the faintest scent of onions and bacon, her father’s favorite foods, wafted past her. Vague evidence that he had been here only a week ago.
Pain clenched her heart. Pain and regret, coupled with a wish that Lauren could have come with her to the Rocking M.
Her sister had had to leave early this morning to catch a plane, so last night they’d stayed in Saddlebank’s only motel, then gone their separate ways at dawn.
Jodie toed off her boots and put them on the shelf under the coatrack. She set her suitcase on the old wooden bench, as she and her sisters always did the day they arrived at the ranch. For a fraction of a moment loneliness nudged her at the sight of her lone suitcase. There should be two more.
She paused, listening, but the only sounds in the stillness were the ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room and the hum of the refrigerator in the rear.
Hugging herself, she walked through the house to the kitchen. A breakfast bar bisected the space, separating the cooking area from the rest of the room. She and her sisters had spent a lot of time there, laughing as they created unique meals using the minimal ingredients available to them. Their father had never been big on shopping.
A large room took up the far end of the house, the ceiling soaring two stories high. The dining room table with its five mismatched chairs filled one side, while couches and a couple recliners huddled around the stone fireplace on the far wall, flanked by two large bay windows.
A baby grand piano, covered with a flowered sheet, took up the far corner of the room. Jodie was surprised her dad still had it. It was an older one from her aunt Laura, who used to teach piano.
Jodie’s smile faded as she looked toward the closed door of her father’s office.
How many times had he pulled her into that room, ordered her to sit in the chair and listen? How many lectures had she endured, with him pounding his fist on the desk, telling her she was a disgrace to his good name? It didn’t take much to resurrect his angry voice berating her, the sting of his hand on her cheek.
She spun away from the office, striding toward the living room as if outrunning the hurtful memories. She stopped at the window overlooking the yard. From there she saw the wooden fences of the corrals edging the rolling green pastures. Beyond them stood the mountains, snow still clinging to the peaks even in summer.
During the days of stifling heat in Knoxville, she’d definitely missed the mountains and the open spaces of this ranch. She fingered the curtain, leaning her forehead against the cool glass of the window, the usual daydreams assaulting her. Travel, moving, being in charge of where she went instead of working around other people’s plans for her life. She had spent most of her childhood going where others told her to go, being who others told her to be. Now she was stuck here for a couple months, once again, her situation being dictated by her father.
She could leave. She knew that. Forfeit her right to a portion of the ranch. But she also knew the reality of her situation. Any money she got from selling the ranch would be a huge benefit. Touring wouldn’t be the financial hardship it usually was.
And what would Dad think of that?
She pushed aside the guilt and mixed feelings that had been her steady companions since her father died, then walked over to the piano and pulled the sheet off, sneezing at the dust cloud she created. Lifting the lid, she propped it open, raised the fallboard covering the keys and sat down at the bench.
She ran a few scales, the notes echoing in the emptiness. Surprisingly, the piano was still reasonably in tune.
Her fingers unerringly found the notes of “Für Elise,” one of the first pieces she had ever performed, and its haunting melody filled the silence as memories assailed her.
Sitting at this same piano, her pudgy fingers plinking out notes of the scales as her sisters played outside. Often her time at the piano was punishment for one of her many misdeeds. Between the musical aptitude her grandmother tried to nurture and the many times Jodie got into trouble, she’d spent a lot of time at the keyboard.
But while music had, initially, been a burden, it had eventually became a release. She took her skills and applied them to writing music, something that she enjoyed.
And now, as she played in her childhood home once again, the music transported her to better times, better memories.
The light from the window fell across the keys and, as she often did when she was playing, she looked at the scar on the back of her right hand and how it rippled as she played.
Jodie abruptly dropped her hands to her lap, one covering the other, the music generating an ache for the losses in her life. Of her mother, when she was only nine. The loss of her plans and dreams in high school. The death of her grandmother a few years ago, and now her father.
She was here for two months. But once those months were done, she was gone. And after that?
She closed the lid on the piano with a thunk and got up from the bench. She had learned it never helped to plan too far ahead. That way lay only disappointment and pain.
* * *
Finn rode his horse through the corral gate, closed it and then rode up beside Jodie standing by the corral fence. He and Vic had spent a good part of the day gathering Keith’s horses from the far pastures of the Rocking M.
Jodie had her arms hooked over the top rail, looking the herd over. Yesterday, at the funeral and later, at the café, she’d seemed shut off. Distant. He put it down to the funeral.
But today she looked more relaxed.
When they’d had arrived at the ranch, Vic had gone up to the house to let her know they were there. To Finn’s surprise, Jodie had been waiting at the corrals when they returned with the horses. It had taken some time to get them in the old corrals, and Jodie had helped, opening the gates and closing them behind them.
Now Finn found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her and her thick dark hair shining in the afternoon sun. It flowed over the shoulders of the pink tunic she wore, a flash of bright color against her turquoise-and-purple-patterned skirt. It was the kind of outfit Jodie always favored—different and unusual and just a little out there.
“So how many of these horses belong to my father and how many to Vic?” Jodie asked.
“I think about half of the bunch are Vic’s,” Finn said, forcing himself to focus on the job at hand, as he dismounted from his horse and tied it up to the fence with a neat bowline knot. It was early afternoon, but the sun was gathering strength.
He and Vic had spent the morning riding the backcountry of the ranch, rounding up Keith’s and Vic’s horses and herding them into the sketchy corrals. Vic’s horses were well behaved enough, but Finn was disappointed to see how wild Keith’s had gotten.
Once again he fought down his own regret. He had been too busy with his job as a sheriff’s deputy, and working on the side, trying to establish his farrier business, to come regularly. In the past year and a half, the only times he had seen Keith was at the Grill and Chill, where his friend sat at his usual table, drinking coffee and scribbling furiously on pads of paper. Every time Finn joined him, he would shove the pads in an envelope, as if ashamed.
Now Keith’s horses milled in the corral, the close quarters making them reestablish their pecking order. Teeth were bared, heads tossed, ears pinned back, and one or two of the smaller geldings had already been kicked.
“Some of them act pretty wild,” Jodie said, dismay in her voice and expression.
“They’ll all need some work,” Finn stated, pushing his cowboy hat back on his head.
“Work?” Jodie asked.
“Hooves trimmed, for one thing. Could use some grooming. General care. Some round-pen work to settle them down. Some groundwork to retrain them.”
Jodie climbed up on the fence, still watching the horses. She seemed more relaxed today than at the funeral. “I recognize a few of them,” she said, her smile lighting up her previously somber face. “We used to ride that one. Mickey.” She pointed to a bay gelding that was shaking his head and baring his teeth at an appaloosa.
“You might want to be careful on the fence,” Finn warned. “The horses are goofy, penned up like this. They’ve not been worked with for a while.”
The words were barely spoken when one of the animals screeched, followed by a resounding thump as hooves connected with hide. Another bared its teeth, kicking at the rails. Then, close to Jodie, a roan mare and a pinto started fighting.
Finn was about to call out to her to get down when both horses reared, hooves flying. The pinto lost its balance and started falling.
Right toward Jodie.
Finn moved fast, hooking his arm around her waist and pulling her back just as the horses fell against the fence. The posts and rails shuddered and Finn prayed they would hold as he spun Jodie around, out of harm’s way.
Horses squealed as they struggled to regain their footing. The boards creaked and groaned. Finn looked over his shoulder. Thankfully, the roan scrambled free and galloped away, a couple others in pursuit.
Too close, he thought, relief making his knees tremble.
Then he glanced down at Jodie, realizing that he still had one arm wrapped around her midsection, the other bent over her head. Her hands were clutching his shirt.
“You okay?” he asked, still holding her.
She sucked in a shaky breath, her hair falling into her face as she nodded.
“Thanks. That was kind of scary,” she said, her voice wavering.
Finn was lost once again in eyes as blue as the Montana sky above them. As their gazes held, his heart beat faster and his breath became ragged.
Then she blinked and released her grip on him.
As he took a step away from her, he had to force his emotions back to equilibrium, frustrated with his reaction to her. It was as if he had never held a woman in his arms.
He lowered his hands as she pushed her hair away from her face, looking everywhere but at him.
“So, Jodie, you figured out what you want done with your horses?” Vic asked, slapping his dusty hat against his equally dusty blue jeans as he joined them.
Jodie shrugged, looking past Finn to the corrals, where the horses were slowly settling down. “I’m not sure. I was hoping I could ride one or two of them.”
“Today?” Surprise tinged Finn’s voice.
“No. Oh, no. I’m not that optimistic,” she said with a nervous laugh, obviously still shaken up by her close encounter.
With him or the horses?
Don’t flatter yourself, Hicks.
“You did say they were wild,” Jodie said.
“So when were you hoping to ride them?” Finn asked.
“I thought in a week or so?” She gave him a tight smile.
“You’re here that long?” Her sister was gone, and he’d assumed Jodie would be leaving soon, as well.
“Unfortunately, I’m here for a couple of months.”
“If you spend some time with them, you might be able to catch one or two eventually,” Vic jumped in before Finn could quiz her. “Your dad let them run wild.”
“Even if you catch a few, I wouldn’t recommend riding them until you’ve done some groundwork and round-pen work with them,” Finn added. “Settle them down.”
“I thought they were trained?”
“So did Finn when we tried to round them up,” Vic said with a laugh. “Guess it didn’t take.”
“It’s been a few years since I worked with them,” he retorted.
“You trained some of my dad’s horses?” Jodie’s eyes went wide and her eyebrows hit her hairline. “But you’re a deputy.”
“He multitasks,” Vic said, slapping his hat again, grinning. “Catching crooks by day, horses by night.”
“I didn’t know you were a trainer,” Jodie said to Finn.
“It’s something I do on the side.”
She nodded, as if storing that information away.
“Tell me what you want done with these cayuses, Jodie,” Vic stated, plopping his battered, worn hat on his head. “I’m sorting mine out and loading them up on my trailer. Do you want to move these to the pasture just off the corrals or do you want me to let them go again?”
She caught her lip between her teeth, as if thinking. “I’m not sure what to do. Dad’s will said we could offload the moveable assets whenever we wanted. Just not—” She stopped abruptly, waving her hand as if erasing what she’d said.
“Offload as in sell them?” Finn asked in dismay. They were top-notch horses and had some superb bloodlines, though they were a bit wild. It would be a crime to sell them at an auction.
“I can’t keep them if I’m not staying, so I guess I’ll have to. I should get a decent price. They’re good horses. Dad always needed to own the best.”
“If you try to sell them right now, you’ll only get meat prices for them,” Finn said. “The only place you could sell them is at the auction mart.”
“So they would get sold for slaughter?” Jodie sounded as concerned as he was. The horses now stood quietly, a sharp contrast to their behavior a few moments ago. The pinto hung her head over the fence, looking almost apologetic.
“Hey, Spotty,” she said, walking over, her hand held up. To Finn’s surprise, the mare stayed where she was and allowed her to come closer. Jodie rubbed her nose, an expression of such yearning on her face that it caught Finn off guard. The horse nickered softly, as if responding to her.
Jodie stroked her neck and then another mare, the roan, joined them. Spotty stepped to the side, her head down in submission. Obviously the other mare was higher up in the pecking order.
“Do you remember me, Roany?” Jodie murmured, rubbing her nose, as well.
“Some really original names for those horses,” Finn teased. “Roany for a roan, Spotty for a pinto.”
“We were city kids. What did we know about proper horse names?”
“You could have done an internet search,” Finn joked.
Jodie shot him a wry look. “Internet? That complete waste of time? Besides, back then it would have been slow dial-up service.”
“That’s right,” Finn mused. “We just got the wireless towers in the past few years. Now I can waste time even faster.”
Jodie’s light chuckle made him feel better than it should.
“So when you two are done...” Vic waved as if trying to catch Finn’s attention.
“Sorry, Vic,” he said, feeling foolish as he turned away from Jodie. “What do you need?”
“I’ll get my horses sorted out and we can load them up and be out of Jodie’s hair,” his friend said. “You stay here with the riding horses. I want to put them on the trailer last, and these two will get all antsy if I leave them alone.”
Finn wasn’t keen on the idea. He knew he should get going. Jodie had held a dangerous fascination for him once. But she was too much like his mother, not enough like his beloved Denise.
Before he could object, however, Vic was gone, leaving the two of them alone again.
“So, if you behave, I can take you out in the back pasture,” she was saying, still rubbing Roany’s nose. “Just like old times.”
“You enjoyed riding, didn’t you?” Finn asked.
“It was one of the few things I liked about being on the ranch,” she countered, stroking Roany. The horse closed her eyes as if reveling in the attention. “Erin and I rode more than Lauren did. I missed it when...” Her voice trailed off again, as if she had other things to say, but either didn’t want to or didn’t dare.
Which immediately made him curious as to what she’d been planning to say.
“Anyhow, I wouldn’t mind going riding again,” Jodie was saying. “I’ll have nothing but time the next two months.”
Finn knew he should let it go, but she’d raised his curiosity. “So why are you staying a couple of months?”
For a few seconds she said nothing, just kept stroking Roany’s coat. Then a couple other horses came close, and the mare pinned her ears back and charged at the newcomers.
Jodie stepped away, then wiped her hands on her skirt. “I’m between jobs right now.”
“The waitressing one or the playing-piano one?”
“How do you know about that?”
“Your father told me. We did spend a lot of time together at one time.” And Keith had always talked of Jodie’s occupations with a hint of anger. He was much prouder of Lauren, who had gone on to become a civil engineer, and Erin, who was a graphics designer.
“Both. But I have an opportunity with a band that hopes to start touring soon. They need a pianist and I’m on the short list.”
“No plans for settling down?”
Her face grew hard. “No. Not in my destiny.”
“And home is Wichita now?”
She frowned in puzzlement. “How did you know?”
“The plates on your car.”
“Of course.” Jodie sighed, looking back at the house. “For now I’m stuck here, though, thanks to the condition Dad put on the will.”
Finn’s curiosity won out over his desire to keep her at arm’s length. “What condition was that?”
“He wanted each of us girls to stay on the ranch for two months before we could sell it. So I’m doing my duty. Lauren will do hers as soon as possible and we’re hoping Erin will come, as well.”
Two months? At the ranch?
That the idea created such conflicting emotions both surprised and annoyed him.
Finn couldn’t deny that Jodie being around that long held a strong appeal for him. At the same time, she wasn’t the type of person he should allow himself to be attracted to, and he knew it deep in his soul.
“So you’re positive I’ll only get meat prices if I bring these horses to the auction mart in town?” Jodie was asking, turning her attention back to the horses.
Finn nodded, wishing he could detach himself from the thought that these amazing animals would be slaughtered. “I wouldn’t make a decision right away, though,” he said. “Maybe ask around. See if there’s anyone who would be willing to take them.”
Jodie nodded again. “For now, it looks as if they need their hooves trimmed. Do you know anyone who could do that for me?”
“I could, if you wanted,” he said. He owed that much to Keith.
“That’d be good.” Jodie’s smile tugged at his resolve to keep his distance from her.
Then Vic was back to grab his riding horses. Time to go.
“I’ll see you tomorrow when my shift is over,” Finn said to Jodie.
“Stop by the house. I’ll give you a hand,” she replied.
He nodded, then grabbed his horse’s reins and walked over to the horse trailer to load it. But as he did, he couldn’t help sneaking a quick glance back to where Jodie still stood.
To his surprise she was watching him, a curious expression on her face.
Chapter Four (#ulink_e489d02c-eb92-5588-9548-1b927cd341b2)
She still played piano.
As Finn knocked on the door, familiar music drifted out the open windows of the McCauley house. He remembered his mother playing the piece, but never as frenetically as it was being pounded out now. Yesterday, when he and Vic had come to round up the horses, Jodie had been outside waiting. Did she forget?
But before he knocked again, he listened a moment, feeling sorrowful at the sound. His mother, a pianist herself, had heard Jodie play a few times and praised the young girl’s talent. Had talked about mentoring her.
But his mom’s reliability was sketchy at best and she’d never followed through on her offer. Just as she’d never followed through on her promises to attend his baseball or basketball games, his school programs or anything requiring her to make a commitment. After his father’s death, it was as if she’d lost all her focus on her family. As a result Finn had ended up neglected and alone. It was thanks to Keith McCauley’s intervention that he’d had someone who was interested in his well-being. Finn owed Keith more than he could ever repay. The man had been a steadying force in his life.
And it was that history that brought him, reluctantly, here today. Keith’s animals needed some basic farrier work. It was the least Finn could do for the man who had been such a huge influence in his life.
He knocked again, more loudly this time.
There was still no answer, so he opened the door and called out, “Anybody home?”
The music stopped abruptly. He heard the screech of a bench being pushed back, then footsteps, and a few seconds later Jodie appeared in the doorway. Today she wore an oversize plaid shirt, a tank top and blue jeans cuffed above bare feet. She had her glossy hair pulled back in a loose braid hanging over one shoulder. She looked more like the country girl he remembered than the retro hippie who’d come to her father’s funeral.
“Hey there,” she said, folding her arms around her waist. “Glad you could come.”
“You got the horses in the corral?” he asked, wanting to get down to business. He had just come off his shift at work and was hungry.
“Sort of,” she said, biting her lip. “I couldn’t round them all up. Mickey and Roany are still out in the pasture.”
“Just as well. I can’t trim all their hooves today, anyhow,” he said.
“Of course.” She slipped on her boots and grabbed a worn straw cowboy hat from a shelf above the empty coatracks.
“I couldn’t help hearing the piano,” he said, still surprised at the beauty of the music. “You ever play anywhere besides bars?”
“Not much opportunity,” she said, dropping the hat on her head and buttoning up her shirt. “And it works for me. Concert pianist was clearly not in the cards.”
He felt a nudge of disappointment at how casually she brushed off something she had talked about with such enthusiasm that one summer.
“How did that happen?” When they were dating, the music scholarship was all she’d talked about. When she’d ditched him for a wild party that night and missed her audition the next day, he had been so utterly disappointed both in her and for her. The rest of the summer she’d avoided him and hung out with a bad group. The next summer she hadn’t shown up at all, and the only time Keith had mentioned her was to tell Finn about the irresponsible life his youngest daughter was leading.
“Life happens,” she said wryly.
Guess that was all he was going to get.
He opened the door for her, but before she walked through, she gave him an enigmatic look. “Still a gentleman, I see.”
“One of the few things my mother taught me,” he said, following her across the porch.
“Where is she now?” Jodie continued.
“Hopefully on her way to Saddlebank.” Finn pushed down the flicker of concern that his mother would flake out on him again. She’d sounded so sincere when she had called him a couple months ago. Maybe things had changed in her life. “She’s accompanying Mandie Parker for our church music festival.”
“Mandie Parker. I’ve heard of her.”
“Really? She sings Christian contemporary music,” Finn said.
Jodie tossed him a wry look. “I’ll have you know I have a variety of musical tastes,” she stated.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“That I only listen to blues in smoky bars or hip-hop in clubs. I get it.”
A smile teased his mouth at her quip. “I stand corrected.”
“As for Mandie, it’s amazing that you managed to get her. She’s very talented.”
“The festival’s in a couple of weeks. If you’re staying here, you could come, if you’re interested.”
“I just might.” Jodie shoved her hands into the back pockets of her blue jeans as she walked alongside him, past the dented and dusty car she had driven here. Clearly waitressing and playing in bars didn’t pay enough to buy decent transportation.
“And how is your mother these days?”
“She’s doing okay.”
“I remember hearing her play at church sometimes when Aunt Laura couldn’t. She was so talented. I sometimes wished she could have given me lessons.”
“Your grandmother in Knoxville taught you to play, didn’t she?”
“She taught all three of us. There wasn’t much money for anything else, so she spent her days trying her best to keep us well-rounded and on the straight and narrow.”
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