Reunited with the Cowboy

by Claire McEwen

  She nodded. “Okay. I get it. But don’t think too long. Summer’s rolling on, and before you know it, we might actually get some rain. And I’m not sure your barns will last through more than a storm or two without some reinforcement.” She glanced at the lambing shed in the distance. “Or a roof.”

  She was teasing him just a little and Caleb couldn’t help but smile back. It was so derelict, it was almost funny.

  “And before I go, there’s one more thing.” Annie eyed him sharply. “And it’s about Maya, who I love very much, so think before you speak.”

  She was refreshingly straightforward. She reminded him of one of his drill instructors. “Okay. Shoot.”

  Annie let out a long breath. “I know that what’s between you is impossibly hard. I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like. But I know that Maya wants to help. She didn’t mean harm by coming out here the other day.”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  “And she is knowledgeable. She came out to my ranch yesterday and taught me a thing or two. She’s going to be at Juan Alvaro’s ranch later this week and Brian Silva’s the next. Us ranchers tend to get set in our ways, but times are changing. We have to change too. And if it means we lose less livestock in the process, so much the better.”

  Caleb nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He was young compared to most of the other ranchers around Shelter Creek. He shouldn’t be this resistant to new ideas. Shouldn’t be so stuck.

  Caleb looked out over the field with its broken fence. His pride hurt like hell when he thought about how people saw him. Poor. In need of rescue. But he also knew how pride could get in the way. Had seen it firsthand in guys who’d failed out of boot camp because they just couldn’t let go of their own egos.

  He didn’t want to fail, yet failure was right around the corner. His bank account was empty, and he and Hobo had been living on canned food all week. Well, he had. Hobo was probably supplementing his diet with mice in the barn. Caleb wasn’t ready to go that far, but he’d been considering venison. After all, Maya had mentioned he had a whole lot of deer on his property.

  Annie was waiting, sipping on her coffee, looking around, with curiosity and concern writing equal stories on her features. He had to say something. To at least be polite and acknowledge all she had offered. “I’ll think about it, Annie. I will. And I would like your advice down the road, if you have time to give it. I want to breed for wool, and you’re the best around for that.”

  “I’d be happy to give any assistance I can. Why don’t you swing by my ranch sometime soon and we’ll chat.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  “And just remember, you’re not the only person who has ever needed a little extra help. You’re not that special, Caleb Dunne.”

  He hadn’t laughed in so long, it sounded rusty. “Good to know,” he told Annie, who was smiling at his reaction. “Very good to know.”

  “I’ll see you soon.” Annie turned to go and almost tripped over Hobo, who’d emerged from a clump of brush with the stealth of the mouse-hunter he was. “Oh! Look at you!” She reached down to pet him, but the orange beast made a beeline for Caleb and jumped up to his shoulder.

  “Well,” Annie said, watching them with a surprised smile. “Would you look at that? Good to see you’re not totally alone out here, Caleb.” She waved and strode back up the lane toward the barn, hopped into her truck and was off, leaving Caleb with his pride at his feet, but his heart warmed by a glimmer of something he’d forgotten. Kinship.

  He had one relative left in town, his mom’s sister, Aunt Loreen. He was scheduled to take her to dinner next week, but it felt more like a duty, not like a real connection.

  But Annie just now... Well, maybe he was nuts, but her driving out to check on him today, bringing him a treat and an offer of help—it felt a lot like what family would do. And he hadn’t felt anything like that in a long, long time.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “WELL, I THOUGHT that went very well. I’m so proud of you.” Grandma Lillian led the way out of the town council meeting, where Maya had just given a short presentation about what her job was and how her work could help the people of Shelter Creek.

  Maya stopped outside the town hall to zip up her fleece jacket. The fog had rolled in while they were in the meeting, and it wrapped the cute Victorian buildings on Main Street in mist, giving the town a mysterious aura, like Brigadoon in that old movie Grandma loved. A couple walked out of Shelter Creek Coffee Roasters, to-go cups in hand, but other than that, the street was quiet. Maya had forgotten how picturesque the town was. When she’d first moved here as a child, she was sure she’d landed in the middle of a storybook, everything was painted and landscaped so nicely.

  “I think the meeting went okay,” she told Grandma. “They seemed to like the idea of doing a town-wide educational campaign about mountain lions and coyotes. But I don’t know if I’m up for doing an assembly at the schools. I’m not a teacher. I’m barely a people person at all.”

  “Priscilla could help you,” Grandma said. “In fact, if you told her what to say, she’d probably do the whole thing for you. I think she misses teaching.”

  Maya glanced at her grandmother in admiration. “That’s brilliant, Grandma. I wouldn’t have thought of asking Mrs. Axel.”

  “Well, don’t forget, I managed a busy office for many years. So I learned how to delegate.”

  Before she retired, Grandma managed the town credit union because, as she used to like to joke to Maya, bossy came naturally to her. Once, just once, Grandma had confided in Maya that she worried that her strong personality might have been the cause of her own daughter’s addiction. Mostly, though, they avoided speaking of Maya’s parents. That subject, as Grandma liked to say, was all questions and no answers.

  They had made efforts to find them over the years. When Maya was in high school, Grandma got word that they were out of jail and living in a homeless shelter in San Francisco. Maya, with dreams of helping them out, talked Grandma into visiting the city to try to track them down. After days of leaving word at shelters and on street corners, they’d realized that Maya’s parents just didn’t want to be found.

  A couple of months later, Grandma got a postcard from them, saying they were living in a camper van and driving it to Florida to have good weather year-round. Neither Maya nor Grandma had heard from them since.

  Maya reached out and squeezed her grandmother’s hand, so grateful that this wonderful, bossy woman had kept her out of the foster care system and raised her as another daughter. “I appreciate your advice, Grandma. I am definitely going to ask Mrs. Axel if she’ll help me with the school presentations.”

  “Look at you,” Grandma teased. “Asking for help twice in a week. First getting Annie to help with Caleb and now this. It’s a miracle.”

  “Desperation makes people do crazy things,” Maya muttered. Remembering her nerves before she spoke at the meeting tonight, she added, “Maybe I’ll get really wild and ask Mrs. Axel to give all of my presentations for me.”

  “You did just great,” Grandma assured her. “You may get nervous but you’re a natural at explaining these animals so that people can understand them better.”

  “I guess.” She’d have to take Grandma’s word for it because she’d been so terrified, the audience had been a fuzzy blur. She’d managed to build her professional reputation mostly by writing articles about her research. Back in Boulder, it was easy to find graduate students or interns who were eager for experience. They were happy to take care of any requests for presentations.

  “I was surprised to see Caleb in the audience,” Grandma said.

  “Me too. He certainly wasn’t interested in learning about predators when I visited his ranch.” Maya had noticed him the moment she stood up to speak and had almost lost the last shreds of her courage. He’d been sitting in the back, but his big frame and brooding express
ion were impossible to miss.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Maya fibbed. She would probably never be okay when it came to Caleb. Yes, she could be strong. She could get her work done, spend time with Grandma and The Biddies, and play with Einstein. But coming home had taught her something. She could never think of Caleb without something aching in her heart. There was a part of it that had never healed, and maybe never would. “I can’t imagine why he was there tonight. I was afraid he was going to stand up and start yelling at me in the middle of my talk.”

  Grandma smiled. “He may have been difficult that day on his ranch, but I don’t think he’d do that. Annie says she went out there last Saturday, and had a very nice chat with him. Maybe he’s coming to his senses. Maybe he showed up tonight because he’s finally ready to learn something about wildlife management.”

  “I suppose it’s possible.” Maya had no way of knowing what was going on in Caleb’s head, and maybe it was better that way. Better not to guess or wonder or worry about him and just focus on the work she was meant to do. Now, if she could just convince her mind of that...

  “I thought that was you.”

  Maya and her grandmother both turned to face the voice behind them. It was high summer, so there was still enough light left in the evening to see that it was Loreen Brockman. She was Caleb’s aunt, his mother’s sister, and she’d doted on Julie. She had loved taking her niece on shopping trips to San Francisco, and at least once a month had insisted that they get their nails done together.

  Maya remembered Julie saying that, while she loved her aunt and appreciated the attention and care, she wished they could just go riding together. Julie had lived for horses and would have appreciated a pair of new riding boots far more than perfect nails or the fashionable clothes her aunt bought her in the city.

  “Hi, Loreen. How are you?” Maya tried to keep her voice steady and pleasant.

  “I’m doing okay.” Loreen sighed loudly. “You know, one day at a time.”

  Maya didn’t actually know, but figured it was safer not to ask. The last time she’d seen Loreen, it had been right after the accident. Loreen had come to Maya’s hospital room and demanded to see her. Grandma had told her a firm no, and hospital staff had escorted the distraught woman off the premises. Maya had caught a glimpse of Loreen’s furious, grief-twisted expression as she scowled at her through the doorway of her room.

  “Were you at the council meeting tonight?” Grandma Lillian asked.

  “I was. I saw Maya’s name on the agenda and wanted to hear what she had to say. I wanted to see what she’d been doing with her life since she left Shelter Creek. I hope you’ve made every single day count—” her voice dripped sweetness that felt anything but sweet “—since my precious niece didn’t get to have any of those days.”

  “I’m very aware of that,” Maya assured her, the granola bar she’d nibbled on before the presentation rebelling in her stomach.

  “I miss her every day. I hope you realize what you took, not just from Julie, but from so many people, when you got behind the wheel of the car that night.”

  “Loreen.” Grandma’s voice was sharp. “Watch what you’re saying. Everyone knows that accident wasn’t Maya’s fault.”

  “She drove my niece into a tree.”

  “Perhaps—” Grandma’s voice was icy “—you aren’t familiar with the actual circumstances of the accident?”

  “I know that my niece died because your granddaughter lost control of the car. And I know her mother had problems too.”

  “That’s enough.” Maya realized it was true as she said it. Enough. For so long she’d been afraid to come home, to hear people like Loreen make these kinds of accusations. Now that she was here, it wasn’t as frightening or as hurtful as she’d imagined. It mostly made her mad.

  But she wouldn’t yell, no matter how much she wanted to. That was what people like Loreen expected her to do. So Maya brought her voice lower and forced herself to speak politely. “Loreen, when you say things like ‘got behind the wheel’ and ‘lost control,’ I assume that you’re implying that I was drinking. I was not. It’s all in the sheriff’s report, if you’d like to read it.”

  “How can you be so cool and calm about it?” Loreen’s voice shook. “A beautiful young girl died because of you.”

  Maya could see tears in Loreen’s eyes. All the woman’s anger and accusations came from pain and loss, and that knowledge had Maya’s temper cooling to a low simmer. She understood pain and loss, had felt plenty of it herself.

  “Aunt Lor, stop.”

  Maya started at the deep voice. Her attention had been so riveted on Loreen that she hadn’t heard Caleb approach. She turned and there he was, taking up space with his height and breadth and that tough, dark magnetic field that he seemed to have acquired in the years since she’d left. It messed with her breathing and made it hard to look away.

  “Hello, Caleb,” Grandma said, and Maya was sure she spotted a twinkle in Lillian’s eye. She’d always had a soft spot for him and had treated him like family all the years he and Maya had dated.

  “Hello, Mrs. Burton.”

  “You always called me Lillian, so please don’t get all formal on me now.”

  One side of Caleb’s mouth curled in a half smile that took Maya by surprise. She’d only seen him looking stern, hungover and miserable. That piece of a smile was a shimmering reminder of all the times he’d smiled at her. Except he’d been smiling at Grandma, and it was gone now, as he turned to his aunt. “You told me you wanted to meet for dinner. Then you talked me into this meeting instead. How about you and I go get that food now?”

  So much for Grandma’s theory—that Caleb wanted to learn about predator management.

  “Of course.” Loreen softened when she looked up at her nephew. “I was just sharing that it’s been hard, living without Julie. And that seeing Maya here, such a successful scientist, giving a presentation to the town, well, it just made me think about all of the things that Julie never got to do.” Loreen glanced at Maya. “If things were different, she would have accomplished so much.”

  “Of course she would have,” Grandma said kindly. “She was an incredibly talented young woman and her death is a terrible loss. But it’s not fair to take it all out on Maya.”

  “Agreed.” Caleb’s eyes narrowed as he studied his aunt, who pressed her lips together and suddenly started rummaging in her purse for something.

  Caleb’s gaze drifted to Maya. “I enjoyed your presentation.”

  Maya stared at him, wondering what had happened between last week and now. Had Annie worked some mysterious rancher-to-rancher magic?

  “Um...thanks?” Maybe it came out as a question because there were so many questions in her mind. Last time she’d seen him, he’d pretty much thrown her off his property. But it wasn’t just that. Caleb looked different. He wasn’t wearing a hat, so she could see his dark hair cropped close. He’d shaved off the thick scruff she’d seen out at his ranch, his eyes were clear and his skin was brighter. He seemed sober and alert and maybe even a tiny bit friendly.

  And he was...Caleb. Not the shadowy figure on the trail or the ill stranger she’d tried to work with last week on his ranch. His face was sculpted with new lines and shadows, but he looked more familiar now. She could remember, as she studied him, how his expressions used to be. How his face looked when it lit up with humor and curiosity and love.

  She would give a lot to see that Caleb again.

  “Aunt Lor, let’s go get that dinner you wanted.” Caleb took his aunt gently by the arm, so careful with her, while still making it clear that they were leaving. Maya wondered how much he’d heard.

  “Okay, yes.” Loreen just looked lost now, and Maya felt that too-familiar ache in her chest, the constant longing for things to be different. For that night, that accident, to never have happened.

&n
bsp; Caleb nodded to Grandma Lillian. “Nice to see you again.” He was politeness personified. He turned to Maya and gave another nod, only this time his eyes seemed to linger on hers for a moment. As if there was something he wanted to say to her. But all he said was “Good night.”

  Loreen leaned on him, just a little, as they walked away.

  Maya watched them go, the sad, bitter older woman leaning on her tough rock of a nephew.

  “Don’t let Loreen get to you. Try to remember how kind everyone else was at the meeting tonight.” Grandma put an arm around Maya’s shoulders and pulled her close for a brief instant of comfort. “Most people are excited to have you here. They’re excited to learn from you.”

  But not the people who mattered. The thought was so unexpected, it startled her. But years ago, Caleb’s family had felt like hers. He’d given her a promise ring at junior prom and she’d been absolutely certain that promise would lead to a college engagement, which would lead to a postcollege happily-ever-after.

  She’d felt so certain that his family would also be hers.

  “I’ll try to remember, Grandma.” Maya took her grandmother’s hand as they walked to her truck. “You’re right. There are so many kind people. It’s just that the angry ones stand out more, you know?”

  “Well, as Monique always says, trouble likes to show up with big hair and a flashy outfit.”

  Maya giggled. “Like her?”

  Grandma smiled. “Exactly. Now let’s go home for some supper and then we’ll take that sorry mutt of yours for a walk.”

  “You love my mutt. I know about all those biscuits you’ve been slipping him.” Maya opened the passenger door and tried to help her grandmother inside.

  “Well, he’s skin and bones. Now, shoo!” Grandma flapped her hand at Maya. “I’m not too old to get myself into a vehicle.”

  Maya saw her opening and took it. “So, if you’re still such a good traveler, why did you stop traveling to see me?”