Ever Loving

by Carolyne Aarsen

  Grace reached out for him and Nate caught her in his arms and gave her a tight hug. She laughed and grabbed for his cowboy hat.

  “You can’t have that, Grace,” Nico complained. “It’s Nate’s.”

  But Nate just grinned and dropped his hat on her head.

  His heart swelled with joy and pride. That all of them had come down to the competition to watch him meant more than he could ever tell them.

  “So, I don’t imagine you’ll be coming to my ranch tomorrow to work for me,” he heard Arden saying.

  Nate shook his head. “No. I’ve got other priorities.”

  “Quite a few of them, I can see,” Arden replied.

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” Nate returned, giving Mia a quick smile and a wink.

  “Well, I’ll let you get back to your family,” Arden said.

  Nate looked over the gathered group and felt a settling in his soul.

  His family.

  He liked the sound of that.

  “So, should we go home?” Mia asked.

  And Nate liked the sound of that even better.

  He gave Mia another kiss, shifted Grace in his arms and with everyone gathered around, they walked out of the arena to the vehicles.

  Next stop Rockyview. And home.

  So that was Mia and Nate’s story. They both had to go through a lot to find each other. But they became a family and Nate discovered his hidden strengths.

  I write a lot about family. In my next book, Ever Faithful, I also talk about family, faith and, most importantly, love.

  Amy was always a sassy tomboy to Paul Henderson. A girl, then woman he never felt he deserved. But city life has worn him down and now he’s drawn home. Too Amy.

  But Amy has other plans. And they don’t include Paul. Not anymore.

  Read the first chapter of Ever Faithful here:

  Chapter One

  “How much longer will the grass hold out, little brother?” Amy’s saddle creaked as she leaned forward, staring ruefully over the pasture.

  Rick shrugged. “Couple of weeks, more if we get rain.”

  Amy Danyluk lifted a tangle of reddish hair from her neck and tucked it under her old cowboy hat. The sun’s heat, warming her head, seemed to mock Rick’s hope for rain. So did the rivulets of sweat running down her back. She pulled up the red bandanna hanging around the neck of a once-yellow T-shirt and wiped her neck with it, squinting at the cows in the distance.

  From here they looked content as they moved slowly along, their calves kicking up their heels and running in circles. However, the chewed-down areas close to the horses were a mute testimony to how little feed the cows had left. “I think we’ll have to get the lower fields ready just in case we need to move them.”

  “The fence needs to get fixed before we do that.” Rick pulled his hat off his head and wiped a trickle of sweat with his arm. “Whew, it’s hot.”

  Amy nodded. “I was hoping we could work on it in the morning, while it’s still cool.”

  “No can do, sis. I’m busy on Monday. I promised Jack I’d help him in the garage until four.” Rick rubbed the side of his nose and threw Amy an apologetic look. “Sorry. I made the plans over a week ago.” He pulled on Sandover’s reins, turned his horse around and walked away.

  “This is not the time of year to make other plans,” Amy muttered. They had hay to haul and cut and bale again. The corrals needed work, and the old fence needed repairs. They had to cross fence their hayfield. She had to work all of this around her own job, as well as gardening and taking care of their father, Judd.

  Amy swung her own horse, Misty, around and with a nudge, easily caught up to Rick. “If you can get that tractor working on Tuesday we can haul the bales in a couple of days. I can get a day off next week and we can start on it then.”

  “Speaking of hay, we’ll need to buy more if we have to bring the cows down sooner,” Rick commented. “I had hoped to turn those pregnant heifers I bought into the lower pasture.”

  “Hopefully we won’t need to buy hay if we cross fence the hayfield. I still don’t know why you bought fall calvers. They just don’t work in our program.”

  “It’s a good way of making our cash flow more even. Besides, they were a terrific deal, for purebreds.”

  “But cow prices are down. And a deal is only a deal—”

  “If you can afford it,” Rick intoned, his voice taking on that bored tone that told Amy he heard her but had stopped listening. He pushed his hat back on his head, his auburn hair darkened with sweat. “I know it was a chance, Amy. But sometimes you have to take them.”

  Amy sensed it was time to stop hammering. She wished she could let things roll off her back as easily, but she couldn’t. She was the one who did the books, who knew exactly how far they were into their operating loan. She had been in charge since an accident with an auger had taken off half of her father’s leg, fifteen years ago. She knew she had a tendency to fret, whereas Rick was more inclined to count on things working out in the end. “Okay, Rick, I’ll lay off. But I want you to help me out here, big-time.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Start praying for rain,” Amy said quietly.

  Rick was spared the need to reply as Sandover pranced to one side. Amy drew her own horse back to fall behind him. Sandover was green broke and unpredictable. Amy didn’t want Misty hit by a flying hoof.

  “I’d watch his ears, Rick,” Amy warned, watching as the horse tossed his head.

  “He’s just high-strung, glad to be out.” Rick pulled Sandover’s head around, and with another defiant shake of his head, the horse settled. Rick flashed his sister a triumphant grin over his shoulder. “See. All under control.”

  “I’m going to the Hendersons’. You coming?” Amy asked, ignoring him.

  “What do you need to do there?”

  Amy shrugged in reply. Rick didn’t need to know, he would just tease her.

  “Well?” Rick insisted.

  “If you need to know, I want to borrow Elizabeth’s hot rollers and pick up a pair of pantyhose she bought for me.”

  Rick’s head spun around faster than Sandover’s. “Pantyhose?” Rick’s incredulous tone said much more than his words. “Rollers? You won’t even know how to put those things in your hair.”

  Amy still said nothing.

  “And since when do you care about how you look?”

  “Since Tim and I started going out. You know that,” Amy replied, wishing the flush would leave her cheeks. She didn’t need to feel guilty. Her desire to look attractive was nothing to be embarrassed about, especially not in front of her little brother.

  “C’mon, Amy. Your motto’s always been ‘death before makeup.’ Your idea of dressing up for a date was to iron your T-shirt. Now you’re going to wear pantyhose and—” he put heavy emphasis on the word “—curl your hair. What’s next? Lip gloss?”

  “It’s my engagement party. Why wouldn’t I want to look my best?”

  Rick drew alongside her, and she chanced a sidelong glance, catching his quizzical look. “I don’t think you’re being straight with me, sis. The last time I saw you dressed up was—” He paused, his brow furrowed in thought. His expression brightened and he snapped his fingers. “I remember. Two years ago, you bought a dress and you curled your hair.” He narrowed his eyes. “Two years ago. The last time Paul Henderson came home.”

  “Would you give me a break?” Amy said, angry at what he implied. “Like I said before, it’s our engagement party. Tim’s and mine. I bought a new dress for him. I’m curling my hair for him. Paul hasn’t been around for years.”

  “And you haven’t spent this much time on how you look in years.”

  “And every time he comes home,” Amy continued, pretending not to hear, “he’s got another girl on his arm.”

  “You can’t compete, Amy,” Rick said shortly. “Paul’s girlfriends are always way out of your league.”

  “Why are you even bringing this up?” Amy turned on her brother,
angry and frustrated with the position he put her in. “I happen to be engaged. Tonight’s our engagement party. Tim and I are making plans to get married. Paul hasn’t been important to me for years.” Amy swung Misty around and clucked angrily to her horse.

  Misty broke into a gentle lope, the breeze cooling Amy’s heated face.

  Why did I overreact? Amy berated herself. Now he’s going to think he’s right.

  Misty crested the hill, and Amy drew her to a halt taking in the view. The valley lay below her, sun-warmed and restful, the sweep of the fawn-colored hills undulating away from her. Solitary stretches of pine trees lined their rims, sending delicate fingers of darker green down the hillsides.

  She drew in a slow breath, as if drawing in the life-giving sustenance of the tangy air. She knew there were other places in God’s creation more spectacular, but she had been placed here, and here was where she belonged, as surely as the grass and as snugly as the rocks.

  The thump of hooves behind her broke into her thoughts. She turned in time to see Sandover rear, his front hooves flashing out.

  “Get off that miserable horse,” Amy called out.

  But Rick stayed on, a grin splitting his face at the challenge. Sandover bucked, shook his head and came to an abrupt halt. Rick exerted steady pressure on the horse’s bridle, slowly pulling his head up. “Just go on ahead, Amy. I’ll catch up,” he called.

  Amy hesitated, then, reassured that Rick indeed had the horse under control, turned and clucked to Misty. Her horse hit her long trot, easily covering the ground on the way to the Hendersons’ spread. They traveled a path well-worn over the years, toward a place Amy had considered her second home.

  It was Elizabeth and Fred Henderson who had become her second parents when Rick and Amy’s mother, Noreen, left Judd, fifteen years ago, one week before Judd’s accident.

  Elizabeth had dried Amy’s tears both then and during each crisis after that. It was to Elizabeth that Amy, at a tender-hearted age of twelve, ran to with stories of being picked on in school. Elizabeth was the one who shamed Judd into buying a prom dress. It was a good trade all the way around. Amy had no mother and a bitter father. And Elizabeth had three boys and no daughter.

  And now she was going to open her home for Amy and Tim’s engagement party, a job that would have been Noreen Danyluk’s had she elected to stay with her family.

  Amy rode into the yard and before she tied up her horse was greeted with joyful abandon by Penny, Henderson’s dog. She knew enough not to bark at the horse and Misty was used to her so didn’t flinch as she came near.

  “Hey, Penny, Paul will be home soon.”

  Penny was a pup of the very first retriever the Henderson’s had, Polly. She had been Paul’s dog since he was eight. Polly followed Paul everywhere he went and when Penny was born, she did the same. When Paul was home, that was.

  Amy dismounted before Misty came to a complete stop. She pulled the reins over Misty’s head and tied her loosely to a corral post. “Be back in a flash, girl,” she murmured to her horse, stroking her neck. Misty blew out a breath as if in answer.

  Kneeling, Amy ruffled Penny’s fur, holding her head and making kissy noises. She loved this dog and Penny usually returned her affection. But today, she whined, looking over Amy’s shoulder.

  “Yeah, yeah, Paul’s coming,” Amy said, then stood and jogged up the walk to the verandah.

  The door swung easily open and Amy stepped inside, unlacing her roper boots and kicking them off with the ease of many years of running in and out unannounced. “Anybody home?”

  “The stuff is in the laundry room,” called out a voice from the top of the stairs. “I’ll be right there.”

  Amy walked down the hallway, ducking into a small room tucked under the stairs. A crumpled paper bag lay on the dryer and Amy peeked inside, checking the contents.

  “How’s my girl?”

  Amy jumped, then glanced over her shoulder at Elizabeth Henderson. She leaned her small frame against the doorjamb, a smile crinkling up her face, brown from the sun. Her gray, short-cropped hair stuck up in all directions. Dust smeared the front of an old high school sweatshirt cast off from one of her sons. The knees of her blue jeans sported twin circles of grime.

  Amy turned and gave Elizabeth a quick hug. “Where were you?” Straightening, Amy brushed a cobweb from her wrinkled cheek.

  “I started cleaning up the spare room for Paul’s latest girlfriend and ended up in the attic, hauling around all the old junk.”

  “When is Paul coming?”

  “I expect both of them any minute.” Elizabeth smiled as if in anticipation.

  “Tracy, is it?”

  Elizabeth shook her head, tucking her arm through Amy’s as she led her back down the hall. “Stacy. They’ve been going out four months. A record for my eldest son.”

  “It’s about time he settles down.”

  “I know I shouldn’t be impatient, but I’m looking forward to grandchildren and none of the boys are helping me out there. At least I know you won’t disappoint me. It will be wonderful having you living down the road, a married woman.” Elizabeth paused in the doorway to the kitchen. “Do you have time for a cup of tea?”

  Amy shook her head regretfully, leaning down to look out of the window. Rick and Sandover were finally here. Rick had pulled into the shade on the north side of the barn. Sandover pranced impatiently, throwing his head around. “I better not. Rick’s horse is acting pretty rank today.”

  Elizabeth took Amy’s bag while Amy pulled on her worn boots. Straightening she caught Elizabeth’s bemused look.

  “What?” she asked with a smile, taking the bag back.

  “I’m proud of you, Amy. That’s all. Happy for you.” Elizabeth reached out and lovingly tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “It will be fun having you and Tim living just down the road. And I’ll be glad when you can finally quit that manager job at the grocery store.”

  “I’ll be glad, too. But for now it pays a few bills and gives me money to save up for our wedding.” Amy leaned over and gave Elizabeth a quick, one-armed hug as a feeling of love for this diminutive woman rushed through her. “I’m looking forward to introducing Tim to the aunts and uncles.”

  “And they’re all dying to meet the man who has such an important place in your life. And who finally made you lose that crush you had on Paul.”

  Amy suppressed a sigh. It stood to reason that an occasion like an engagement party was a time to remember old boyfriends and crushes. “That was a long time ago, and I was a silly little girl.”

  “Not so silly.” Elizabeth smiled, crossing her arms over the faded sweatshirt. “Every girl has to start somewhere.”

  “It just took me longer to quit, that’s all.” Amy pushed open the door, and they paused a moment on the verandah spinning out the farewell in the manner of old friends and family.

  “God works things out in His own way.” Elizabeth slanted Amy an apologetic look. “Paul could never settle here, while Tim seems more than happy to.” She sighed. “It’s hard to admit that your oldest son needs to do the most growing up.”

  Amy shook her head, remembering Paul’s various escapades. She could see them with a more critical eye now that she had Tim to compare Paul to. “Paul has always been restless. As long as I can remember he had to drive the fastest, work the hardest, break what he could bend, and push what could be moved.”

  “He needs to find peace, and he won’t the way he’s living,” Elizabeth said. “It’s just a continuation of him haring around the countryside, looking for challenges and excitement. Only now he does it wearing a suit and using a cell phone.”

  Amy laughed at the image. It wasn’t too hard to transpose the image of Paul Henderson—one arm out of the window of his pickup as he maneuvered his way through potholes and over rocks with a pretty girl clinging to him—with the image of a more civilized man, talking on his cell phone while driving a car shaped like a bullet.

  The roar of a vehicle win
ding down the valley broke the silence.

  Penny stood, her tail slowly waving, waiting.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s Paul now.” Elizabeth stepped forward to squint at the plume of dust roiling behind a red sports car driven far too fast for the rough country roads. The car made one more turn, flew into the yard, gravel churning as it came to a sudden stop.

  The door flew open. At that same moment Rick cried out. From the lee of the barn, a startled Sandover exploded into the yard.

  The gelding whirled, bugled a challenge and bucked. Rick held on, his face grim. Sandover arched his back, cleared the ground, and Rick flew through the air, landing on the ground with a sickening thud.

  Amy’s blood turned to ice in her veins as the horse reared above Rick, mane flying. Rick rolled out of the way of his flashing hooves. Sandover came crashing down, just missing Rick. Penny barked and Paul called out.

  Amy willed her leaden feet to move, her arms to function. She dropped her bag, jumped off the verandah and ran.

  Hands caught her from behind, voices called out warnings. Without looking to see who it was, she shook free, stumbling to where Rick lay. He peeked over his arm, flashed another grin at Amy and got up.

  Amy felt relief sluice through her. A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Sandover reared again, his eyes wild, foam flecking his bridle.

  “Move, Rick,” she yelled, throwing her hat at the horse. Sandover shied away, spinning, then stopped to face her.

  Amy kept herself between Rick and the horse, praying, watching. “Get going, Rick,” she snapped, her eyes on Sandover.

  Rick scrambled out of the way.

  “Amy, you get away from that horse,” she heard a familiar deep voice yell.

  She couldn’t. The horse was unpredictable, and she had to get him back into the corral.

  Sandover threw his head, and Amy caught the reins as they whipped past her.

  He reared and she let him go up, letting the reins slip through her hand. Then, using the brief moment of instability, when he was at his highest point, she moved over, pulling on his reins to turn his head. Again he went up. Again she pulled him in a circle, working him closer and closer as Sandover churned up the ground. Slowly the circle tightened. Then as quickly as it began, Sandover stopped, flanks heaving, head lowered.