Home on the Ranch--Colorado Rancher

by Patricia Potter

  She wanted to see that. She really wanted to see it. “I took those riding lessons you suggested,” she said.

  “How does it compare to flying?” he asked.

  She relaxed. “Doesn’t quite have the highs, but I could easily become addicted.”

  He smiled at the pun. It crinkled the area around his eyes and even produced the smallest of dimples. She remembered that smile from the time he told her about the burro.

  “I thought you might,” he said. “Have you had anything to eat?”

  “You ask that when you’ve stayed at the Camel Trail Inn?” she asked in return.

  “I guess that answers my questions about whether you liked it. Their morning pastries is one reason I stay there when I’m in town rather than a friend’s bunkhouse.”

  “Another week at the Camel Trail Inn, and I won’t be able to get on a horse or in a cockpit.”

  “Are you going back to San Antonio after this?” he asked.

  “For a few months anyway,” she said. “I have a lease on a house, and Julie’s doctors are there. She still has follow-up appointments. After that, I don’t know.” She went on, “I resigned my commission. There’s nothing there now except the past. There’s friends, of course, but their lives revolve around the air force.” She stopped. “I don’t know why I’m babbling about this.” Her gaze met his. Electricity ran between them, sparking and sizzling in ways that baffled her. She swallowed hard, then tried to break the spell. “I’m not used to being aimless,” she admitted.

  “I understand that,” he said, then asked, “Do you feel comfortable riding outside a ring? The instructor will be busy with Jenny for a while.”

  “I think it depends on the horse,” she said cautiously.

  He looked at his watch. “I can find one for you. It’ll be an hour before Julie finishes the lesson and cools down Snowflake. There’s two more parents arriving but they shouldn’t be here before noon.” He paused, then added, “Would you like to see more of the ranch on horseback?”

  Don’t go, a voice inside warned her.

  Instead, she nodded and hoped she wouldn’t make a fool out of herself in any of several ways.

  “Why don’t you watch Julie while I saddle the horses,” he said.

  She did at a distance, even though she was racked with doubts about going with him. What would Julie think if she saw them? But it was a simple ride, a short one that would be offered to any of the parents.

  He returned quickly, leading two horses: a bay and a smaller roan. The bay, she knew, was Reese’s horse. She knew from the size and the way the bay eagerly followed him. “This is Max,” he said. “And this is Lady because she acts like one. She has very good manners.”

  Lauren hesitated, torn again. She wanted to watch her daughter ride but she knew she would see her again this afternoon when all four of the kids would perform. She decided she would only distract her daughter if Julie saw her now.

  “Lady wasn’t chosen?” she asked.

  “She’s a family horse,” he explained. “My sister rides her in parades. Nothing startles her.”

  “Won’t your sister object?”

  “No. She has another horse for everyday riding. She’ll be happy that Lady is exercised today.”

  Max remained still, reins resting on the saddle horn, as Reese offered to help her mount. She shook her head, took the reins and easily swung into the saddle.

  “I’m impressed,” he said as he adjusted the stirrups. Then he asked, “How does the saddle feel?”

  “Good. Your friend in Covenant Falls is a good teacher.”

  “Have you ridden outside a ring?”

  “Once,” she said.

  “Can you trot?”

  “Barely.”

  “Okay. Let’s try a fast walk, then a trot. We’re heading toward the pasture beyond the mustang compound.”

  His voice was confident, which gave her confidence. She knew she didn’t have to impress him. He was a teacher by instinct. Her nervousness faded as they walked past the smaller stables and paddock for the mustangs. Leo followed at Max’s heels.

  After they passed the stables, she noticed the paddock for the mustangs had been divided by movable fencing. She was too occupied with riding to ask about it. They followed a well-worn path through what looked like pastureland, then headed through a series of gates. He leaned over to unlatch them in graceful movements. “We have to move the cattle around,” he said, “so we don’t wear out the land. Most of the cattle are in a valley on land we lease from the government. We move them closer in during the winter months.”

  They continued to ride past a pasture dotted with cattle. A stream of water tumbled from one of the cliffs that sheltered it. It wasn’t a waterfall like Covenant Falls, just enough of a trickle to keep the valley green. Cattle grazed contentedly as one cowhand on a horse watched over them. Reese waved at him, and the man nodded.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  “Look up,” he said. She did and saw an eagle soaring above, then another.

  “They’re so graceful.”

  “They are that, and they’re also predators. We have to move moms with young calves to a safe paddock that’s constantly watched.”

  His words conjured a picture she tried to erase, but it was a part of his world. She changed the subject. “How long has your family owned the ranch?”

  “A hundred and fifty years, give or take a few. We don’t know exactly. The founder was Henry Howard, one of the legendary mountain men and apparently illiterate. Much of what we know comes from stories told by one generation to another. According to the legend, he was out of water and starving and followed an eagle into the valley, figuring that there must be water and game here.

  “We assume,” he continued, “mostly because we want to, that our eagles are descended from the original ones who led Henry into the valley.”

  “I like that story,” she said. “Then what happened?”

  “Patti didn’t tell you?”

  “No.”

  “Henry didn’t like people much, from all reports. But as he grew older, he knew he needed help and bought a mail-order bride. Paid for her traveling expenses and married her the day she arrived in Denver. He arranged it through one of his few friends.”

  She was spellbound. Why hadn’t Patti told her the story? It was something right out of a book, but then she’d always believed truth was often stranger than fiction. “Then what?”

  “He brought her back here. I imagine she was rather horrified. It couldn’t have been much more than a shack, but she was an orphan and ambitious and pushed her husband into buying a couple of cows. That’s how it started.”

  “And they lived happily ever after?”

  “They must have. According to her bible, there were five children. Two were killed by Utes during an uprising. Two apparently wandered off on their own adventures and were never heard of again. I take it the original Howard was not an easy man to live with. One was left to build the ranch.”

  “That’s a great story,” she said. “Patti said you were one-fourth Ute.”

  “True. I’m proud of it. Apparently, my grandmother was a very caring, beautiful woman. She was a doctor in a time when it was rare for a Ute woman. She died in an accident before I was born. They had one son, my father. My grandfather never remarried, which is why my family tree is pretty thin.

  “Now it’s your turn,” he said. “How did you become a fighter pilot?”

  “Long story,” she said. “My mother was a single mom. I never knew my birth father. She never spoke of him. She was a great mother, though. Never went to college but worked two or three jobs to make sure I had food and clothes and love.

  “One day, when I was ten or so,” she continued, “I looked up and saw a plane streak across the sky just as a ray of sun turned it into gold. I knew then that
I wanted to fly. I started reading books about flying. When I was sixteen I worked in an ice cream shop after school during weekdays and at the library on Saturdays. I didn’t make as much there, but I loved books and particularly books about flying.

  “Then one day an older man—his name was Hank Douglas—came to the counter and asked the librarian for novels about flying. She knew my interests and sent him to me. I recommended several and he came back the next Saturday and told me how everything in them was wrong and why. I recommended a few more, and we became friends.

  “I told him I’d never been in a plane, but that someday I wanted to be a pilot. He recognized the hunger in me and asked if I wanted to go up in his two-seater. I knew my mom would never approve, so I didn’t tell her. I didn’t think it was exactly a lie, more of an omission.

  “I read mysteries, too, though, so I wrote a note as to where I was going and with whom and tucked it in a book next to my bed. I figured that if he wasn’t the good guy I thought he was, I could tell him about the note—that there was a way for others to know my whereabouts.”

  Reese chuckled. “I’ll have to remember that devious side of you.”

  “I didn’t need it. He took me up in the air and I never wanted to come back down. He started teaching me to fly on afternoons I should have been working. He encouraged me to take more math and apply at the Air Force Academy. I had hoped for a scholarship, but I had never thought about the academy. To my amazement, I was accepted, and I think he had something to do with it.

  “Life is full of small things—a glance at the sky, a chance meeting, a library book—that can change a life,” she mused aloud.

  “Did your mother ever know about the flying lessons?”

  “No, I don’t think so. She worked as a companion to an ill lady during the day and as a waitress in the evenings. She knew I spent a lot of time in the library when I wasn’t in school or at the ice cream shop.”

  “Did she ever find out later on?”

  “No. I didn’t want her to know I’d lied to her. I might have told her eventually, but she died during my last year at the academy. That lie still weighs on my conscience... And now I’m a mother, too, I worry myself sick about a fifteen-year-old daughter and what I don’t know.”

  She bit her lip. “I never told anyone that before,” she said as she suddenly realized there were tears in her eyes. She never cried. Even after the accident. Sometimes, things hurt too much to cry. Why now? Why with him?

  He leaned over Max and wiped a tear away. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I think she would be very proud of you.”

  Lauren wasn’t so sure. Her mom was a bear on the question of honesty. “We should get back.”

  He nodded. “Want to try a canter?” he asked.

  She tried a smile. “Maybe a slow one.”

  His right hand raised her chin until her eyes met his. “You have the most striking eyes, and I hate seeing tears in them. I’m sorry I asked.”

  “I never told that story about the lessons to anyone before,” she said. “Not even...Dane.”

  “We all have those haunting pieces of our lives,” he said and leaned down and kissed her. Lightly. As if for comfort. Not passion.

  And, to her surprise, it was comforting. Something she’d lived with for years was released in that moment. She wondered what his haunting moment was.

  She didn’t have time to think. He turned his horse, and she followed. There was no more talk as they cantered back to the stables.

  Her daughter and Jenny were still in the ring when they returned. He dismounted first, outside the stables, and waited for her. She swung her leg over but slipped as she dismounted. He caught her as she stumbled against the horse. For the barest second, she leaned against him. Electricity ran through her, then guilt. She jerked away. She shouldn’t feel this way. It was...disloyal. Wrong. She straightened and brushed a wisp of hair from her forehead. “I’m...sorry.”

  “No need. It happens often when you’re not that used to riding. It’s a big step down.”

  But she knew from his expression that he’d felt something, too. She tried to normalize her voice. “Shall I take care of the horse?”

  “Nope. Parents are guests. We take care of guests.”

  She started to turn away.

  “Luke’s doing a great job,” he said with a slow smile that could seduce a saint.

  Confusion flooded her until she realized he meant her riding instructor in Covenant Falls and he was complimenting her on her riding. Then she felt so many things. Pride at the compliment. Shock that she had told him her deepest secret, and a warmth that was building inside her. “Thank you,” she managed. But she couldn’t move. Silence stretched tautly between them.

  Just then a car approached, and a wry smile crossed Reese’s lips. “That’s Jenny’s father,” he said. “I’ll introduce you after you see your daughter.”

  She turned around. Julie had disappeared into the stable from the ring. Lauren went inside and found her unsaddling Snowflake. To her surprise, Julie gave her a huge hug.

  “Did you see me?” her daughter asked.

  “I did, and I am so proud of you,” Lauren said. She stepped back. “You looked really, really good, and I love the pink in those cheeks.”

  “That’s sunburn,” Julie said. “I saw you on a horse, too.” It was more a question than a statement.

  “I’ve been going to riding school, too. In Covenant Falls,” Lauren said. “I thought I would learn something about horses so we can ride together in the future. And I’ve been investigating places we can visit when you’re through.”

  “You think, maybe, we can get a horse?” Julie said hopefully.

  She would have given Julie the moon at that moment if she could. Since she couldn’t, she would do her best to get the dog and try to arrange something to do with a horse. A house near some stables maybe. But right now she was delighted to see the wide grin on Julie’s face she’d missed so much.

  Chapter 9

  Sunday morning passed much too quickly. The other parents started arriving at noon, and the teens put on a show.

  They started slowly, riding their horses around the ring, first walking, followed by a fast walk, a trot and a canter.

  Under an increasingly ominous-looking sky, they then executed perfect figure eights, turning their mounts in various exercises. Best of all, the four looked proud and happy. It might have been parental pride, but Lauren thought her Julie outshone the others. That, though, wasn’t the purpose of the program.

  The goal had been to build confidence in the riders, and she watched the results. There was an assurance about them that was impressive.

  Her gaze kept moving toward Reese. He was everywhere, encouraging the kids as they went through their routines and then praising them when they finished.

  She knew the next steps in the program from the information she’d received. They would continue to gain confidence, practice the different gaits and gain more control of their horses. They would leave the paddock for longer rides, both in groups, and with their buddy. And, more exciting to them, start working with the mustangs.

  After the riding exhibition, Reese explained the next steps to the parents: the introduction of their teen to a mustang while continuing to build their horsemanship skills. “The mustangs will be in different pens. One teen will be assigned to each horse. They’ll spend a minimum of four hours a day with their mustang. Your son or daughter can read, sing or talk to the mustangs.

  “The first success will come when the horse approaches their new friend and accepts carrots from them. There will always be a trained ranch hand nearby.

  “So far,” he continued, “only myself and my foreman have interacted with the mustangs. We provided food and water but they still run from us. But for some reason no one really understands, the mustangs relate to younger humans.”

 
; Lauren knew there was more to it than that. From all her reading on the subject, she learned wild horses seemed to respond especially well to humans with emotional or physical wounds. They sense a need that calms their fears.

  Reese continued, “When the teen’s mustang loses the fear of him or her, it makes it easier for one of the experienced horsemen to start training the horse, first with the halter, followed by a blanket, then harness and saddle, then to walk on a lead and finally tolerate a rider. Your teen will be learning training techniques as well as riding ability.”

  The families scattered then as each teen took his or her family to the stable to meet their horse.

  After giving the families time to visit, it was nearly three when Reese announced the cookout was ready, after which there would be a brief ceremony awarding each of the students a silver horseshoe pin for succeeding in the first phase of basic horsemanship.

  A buffet meal was set out on tables in front of the main house. As Lauren approached, she found a large pot of chili, a large salad heavily loaded with different greens, tomatoes, olives and other veggies, homemade fresh, hot bread and a giant platter of sliced roast beef. Apple pie rounded out the meal.

  Lauren noted with amazement that her daughter took a big bowl of chili and turned back to her. “This is the best chili ever,” Julie said, as she dumped a pile of salad and roast beef onto her plate.

  Lauren couldn’t remember when her daughter had selected so much, not even when she was running and needed calories, and especially not since the accident. Lauren heaped her plate as well and discovered why Julie’s appetite had improved.

  Her daughter was already brimming over with horse lore as she ate. She’d always been a good student and now she was bursting with newly discovered information. “Did you know that you can tell whether a horse is in a relaxed, playful mood rather than an impulsive, survive-at-any-cost mood?” she asked her mother.

  “I did not,” Lauren admitted.

  “When he’s relaxed, his neck and head are level,” she said. “The eyes are soft and curious. When he’s scared, adrenaline rushes through him. His body is tense and braced, his head and neck are elevated, his nostrils are flared and his eyes are open wide. Our job,” she added proudly, “is to relax our horse so the trainer can work.”