McCormick's Creek Sweet Romance

by Jen Peters

  Jory nodded. “Keep folks away from the stock.”

  Jess smiled encouragingly, but Phil just kept eating, looking out the window and back at Cliff.

  Phil mopped up the last of the stew juice with a corner of bread and pushed back from the table. “Good meal, love,” he told Jess as he rinsed his plate and loaded it in the dishwasher.

  Cliff slumped against the back of his chair. His idea was going down the drain, too.

  And then Phil stood at the table again. “The biggest problem, near as I can tell, isn’t the land or where to put it. It’s the fact the ranch probably won’t be here long enough to make it worth her while. Not as it is, anyway.”

  Cliff mindlessly ate another piece of bread. He doubted Robin could raise enough money to buy a bit of land outright. It was probably just another pipe dream of his. He wasn’t even sure he’d tell her about it, assuming they saw each other again.

  * * *

  Robin pulled up to the Double J ranch on her next day off, her nerves churning like the dust down the driveway. She wasn’t sure exactly how to show Cliff how she felt, besides kissing him senseless. It seemed they could float away on their kisses, but that wasn’t enough to hold them together through uncertainties.

  Regardless, after two long weeks, she needed to at least apologize. She had chopped his head off and hadn’t let him say a word in self defense. Maybe he would blast her back. Maybe he would tell her to leave. Maybe he would simply turn his back on her.

  She heard metal clanging in one of the barns and went to investigate. Mr. Jackson and Jory had a huge tractor of some sort up on jacks and were doing something with wrenches and plenty of cussing.

  “Is Cliff around?” she asked when the noise paused.

  Mr. Jackson grinned, his teeth gleaming white against the dark, oily smears on his face. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, girl. He’s out in the horse paddock, stringing some hot wire. Maybe you’ll put some life back in the boy now.”

  So Cliff had been moping around, too. It gave her just a little bit of hope.

  She patted Brandy on her way across the pasture, picking her way around manure piles and tufts of taller grass. Cassie was hovering over Cliff at the back fence, nosing his pocket once in a while. She watched Cliff push the palomino away, only for Cassie to step back up and nudge his arm as Cliff tried to swing a hammer.

  As Robin came within speaking distance, Cassie turned his attention to her.

  Cliff hammered again, then muttered his thanks to the mare for leaving him alone for a moment.

  “Uh, it’s me,” Robin said.

  Cliff jerked upright and spun toward her. His eyes lit up, then dimmed. “Robin. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. I, um, I wanted to talk to you.”

  He waited.

  Robin looked at her shoes. All the words she’d rehearsed seemed stuck in her throat. She raised her gaze to the fence post, to the river and the forest beyond.

  Zeus shoved her with his nose and she stumbled a step forward. Even the horse was getting impatient.

  She took deep breath. “I need to say I’m sorry. For blowing up at you and calling you names. And for not calling you at all since then.”

  She met Cliff’s steady gaze, his eyes impenetrable.

  “I appreciate it,” he finally said. “I think it was a hard day for both of us.”

  He wasn’t making this easy, but then, why would he?

  “So what now?” he said, looking down at her,

  She looked away, not able to bear his scrutiny. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you too. That doesn’t change things.” He turned and rummaged in a bucket filled with plastic and metal things. “Maybe we’re better off not seeing each other.”

  Why had her daydreams never included the hard stuff? Never had her facing the mistakes she’d made? Never given her a possible scene for making up?

  Cliff seemed like he was going to mess with that bucket until she left. “So what are you doing?” she asked, waving to the fence.

  “I’m working.”

  “Gee, I can see that. But the fence looks fine to me.”

  He stood, a yellow plastic thing in his hand, and hooked a finger around the smooth wire running along the top of the fence. “This is a hot wire, with an electric pulse running through it. When it’s on, it keeps the horses from leaning over for grass on the other side.”

  “The grass is always greener, right?”

  He smiled at that, just a bit. “If the insulators break,” he waved the plastic thing, “it shorts out and doesn’t work. And the horses figure it out and start leaning again. So I’m replacing some of the them and tightening the wire while I’m at it.”

  Robin studied the fence, then bent down and picked the hammer up. “I’ll help.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “No, really. I can hammer—it doesn’t take a ton of muscle.”

  Cliff smirked. He gave her the insulator and a nail, took the hammer back, and strode to the next fence post. He unhooked the wire and pried the old insulator off, then stepped back and returned the hammer to her.

  She figured out how to put the nail through the plastic insulator, settled it against the post and swung the hammer.

  And missed.

  She glanced sideways but didn’t meet Cliff’s eyes. She choked up on the hammer and tapped the nail gently.

  It hardly moved.

  She whacked it harder and it pushed into the wood. She turned triumphantly to Cliff, who nodded and told her to keep going.

  Robin hammered, missed, hammered again and caught the edge of her thumb. She sucked on it but wouldn’t give Cliff the satisfaction of looking at him. The nail eased its way in until the now slightly deformed insulator was finally snug against the post.

  She turned to meet his raised eyebrows. “You can smirk, but I did it,” she exclaimed. Then she burst out laughing. “I guess wielding a hammer takes some skill after all.”

  And he laughed with her. “It does,” he said, leading her to the next post. Cliff took the hammer, placed a nail and insulator against the post, and had it fastened with two whacks.

  Robin felt like an inept kindergartner. “Well if you put it like that…”

  “That’s okay.” He paused. “Do you know how cute you look when you’re concentrating?”

  She raised her eyes and saw the longing on his face. She took a step forward and reached out her hand.

  He took it, a soft, tentative clasp she hadn’t expected. He bent to kiss her. The touch of his warms lips made her want more, but he pulled back and spoke. “I missed you. I ached for you, to be honest, but…”

  He paused, but she knew what he was going to say. “But I shut you out,” she continued for him. “And I said a lot of things I didn’t mean.”

  “But you did mean them.” He looked away again. “They came from inside.”

  Robin paused as his words sunk in. “I’m sorry. I’m realizing that I have some issues to deal with. But right then, I really am sorry. I couldn’t believe that after my really bad stuff, you weren’t even coming to help me.”

  He turned back and tucked a tendril of her hair behind her ears and she leaned into his touch. “I had my own stuff going on. The ranch and my dad…”

  Her head shot up. “Your dad?”

  Cliff looked past her to the woods. “The ranch is in trouble—Uncle Phil may not be able to keep it going more than another year or two. So I was wrapped up in that, wishing I could talk to my dad, and his death just hit me all over again. I mean, they say that grief comes in waves, but I never really understood. I was sort of paralyzed for a while.”

  Robin lifted her hand to his shoulder. “And then you met up with my tirade. I’m really sorry, Cliff.”

  “I—yeah. I’d rather not go there.” He kept his gaze on the forest. “I heard the town council said no.”

  “I’d rather not go there, either,” she murmured. “The gist of it is that they’re making a committee to look into all the options
. And every other place I’ve tried is too expensive, so I’m on hold for a while.”

  Cliff started to speak but shut his mouth again. They were silent for long moments. The river slapped softly against rocks, and the breeze rustled through the leaves across the fence. Cassie munched grass close by, and Brandy and Buckshot had moved closer.

  “So what now?” she finally asked.

  “So you wait and try to get funding so you’re ready.” He turned to face her.

  “No, I mean about us, if there even is an us.”

  He didn’t speak. Robin realized she was holding her breath.

  “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I love you, Robin, but I don’t know if I can do this. I’ll be a ranch hand the rest of my life. And things will always come up on a ranch.”

  “I know, I—” She shook her head in frustration. “I can’t find the right words. I guess this whole trusting thing is harder for me than I thought. I didn’t realize I wasn’t over it. I just have to learn to deal with it.”

  Zeus nudged her and she reached over to pet him. Cliff didn’t say anything. Finally she whispered, “Will you give me a chance to learn?”

  “I'd like to,” he said slowly.

  “But?” She didn’t look up.

  “But just because I love you doesn’t mean we’ll be good together.”

  “I understand,” she whispered, picking at a tangle in Zeus’s mane, trying to focus through a sheen of tears. Then she forced herself to turn around. “Do you want me to stay away?”

  Cliff suddenly pulled her into his arms. “No,” he said roughly. “I’ve been miserable without you. Maybe I need to learn to not back away.”

  She tilted her head back to meet his gaze. “I love you, Cliff Jackson. But more than that, I know the type of man you are. Right now, I know you make me feel secure and safe, even with everything else going wrong. So when I panic and blank that out, you keep pushing until I remember again. And pretty soon it will be so solid that I’ll never forget it.”

  She kept her eyes on him, let him search hers to find the truth that must show there, and finally saw something in him relax. She reached up to kiss him. He met her halfway, all warmth and strength and caring.

  Chapter 29

  Cliff and Robin eventually got back to finishing the fence, then walked hand in hand back to the barns. Cliff had no idea how everything would work out, but right now, his whole being was content with her alongside him.

  By the time they had the tools put away, delicious smells were wafting from behind the house. On the patio, Jory looked up from the barbecue, nodded to them, and went back to tending the meat without saying another word. Phil poked his head out of the kitchen, still stirring a bowl full of potato salad, and gave a wide grin. “It’s about time you two figured things out.”

  He felt Robin squeeze his hand, soft against his callouses, and he looked down to her shining eyes. This, he thought, bringing her hand up to his mouth for a kiss. This was what he’d been longing for.

  The October evening air was cool and Cliff helped Robin into her jacket before they sat down to eat. The lavish colors of the oak trees and the bright yellows of Aunt Jess’s chrysanthemums, plus the richness of good food and warm family made for a perfect evening. Especially with Robin at his side.

  They passed plates around the patio table, talking of Zeus’ progress and Grandma’s continuing recovery, as well as the rambunctious third graders Carla was teaching this year.

  “You know her friend, Emily, from a few weeks ago?” Aunt Jess asked, taking another scoop of potato salad. “Carla said she’s got some other friends who want to come ride for a weekend at the end of the month. Weather permitting, of course.”

  Cliff nodded. “With the calves gone, there’s plenty of time for me to clear out the rest of the stalls in the old hay barn.”

  “Glad someone can enjoy it,” Phil said. “Might not be around for them next year.”

  Jory looked up sharply and Cliff was surprised his uncle had said it so plainly with Robin there.

  “We got to face it,” Phil said, slipping a piece of beef under the table to Bandit. “Even with the check from the calves, the ranch is winding down. If not next year, then probably the one after. We can’t work ourselves to death for nothing.”

  Jess put her fork down. “You want to retire? And do what?”

  Phil heaved a sigh. “I don’t know, Jessie. But it’s got to happen sooner or later, and I’m thinking sooner. Something like Zeus getting hurt is just going to happen again if we don’t have money or time to keep up the maintenance.”

  Cliff glanced at Robin, who looked appalled. He squeezed her hand. “There’s not much possibility of expanding the ranch, and not much to do to increase the income without that,” he explained.

  Robin met his eyes, then focused on her food. He could see the wheels turning, though.

  “That explains some of the comments you’ve made lately,” Jess said, pinning Phil with a look, “but we should have been talking about this. I’m not ready to leave my home. Not next year, not the year after.”

  “I know, love. And maybe we don’t have to. Maybe we can sell the land but not the house.”

  Aunt Jess didn’t look satisfied, but eased the awkward feeling by changing the subject. “Did you know the Jensens are having well problems?”

  They talked about wells, the Wilson’s new bull, and what some new buyers might do with the horse ranch down the road.

  Robin interrupted when there was a lull. “What have you tried? To solve the financial problems, I mean.”

  And that brought them back to a discussion about what it would take to increase the number of cattle, Phil’s water rights to irrigate from the river, and the lack of demand for anything like boarding or stud services.

  “What about selling the calves somewhere else?” Robin asked.

  Phil leaned back in his chair. “We could take them to auction ourselves, but you never know what price you’re going to get. And Voight is the main buyer around, just because he gives decent prices.”

  “Oh.” Robin took another bite of barbecue and chewed for a minute. “What about selling to specialty markets? Organic and such.”

  Phil snorted. “Besides growing organic alfalfa and buying organic grain? You got to finish the calves off and that takes another full year. And where do you put them for that year while the new crop of calves comes along?”

  “If we cut the number of cow-calf pairs to make room for yearling calves…” Jess mused.

  “It’s just ideas, brainstorming anything that might work.” Robin pushed her salad around. “Would you mind if Cliff and I did some research on it?”

  “Please do,” Jess said.

  “And what about the people coming to ride?” Robin continued.

  “We ain’t no dude ranch.” Phil was adamant.

  “No, but you wouldn’t have to do that,” she answered.

  Cliff sat back and enjoyed the sparring—Robin showed a side of herself he hadn’t seen before. “I mean, you don’t need to have sing-alongs and fake rodeos, just someplace for people to ride for a week and trust that their horses would be well cared for while they’re in a motel in town. Couldn’t you market this place as a horseman’s camp?”

  “I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” Phil said.

  “I would,” Robin said rather smugly. “Marketing is my thing.”

  Cliff grinned. Just being around her made him feel alive again.

  “You’ve got your own projects to be getting on with, Robin,” Phil warned. “That shelter isn’t going to start itself.”

  She visibly deflated. “Yeah, well, that all seems to be on hold. The council turned me down and I can’t find another location.” Then she looked at Cliff and brightened a bit. “I can leave it on hold and do some work for you, right?”

  Cliff squeezed her hand. Phil scowled slightly. Jess and Jory just watched.

  “Can’t I help out here? A horseman’s camp would bring in at least a
little money.”

  “Some, but not enough, just for boarding a horse a few days,” Cliff had to say

  Phil reached for more potato salad. In the silence, Jess spoke up. “We’ve got those cabins where the hands used to live, when we had hands.”

  “Those old shacks?” Phil said.

  Cliff and Jory exchanged looks. “I’ll bet they can be fixed up,” Cliff said. “It would be a good winter project, and if Robin can market things, I’d bet we could have half a dozen people most weekends next year.”

  Robin was on her phone, searching for information. “Would you need to hire someone to cook for them?”

  Jess shook her head. “They’ve all got kitchenettes, and I could cook on special days. Used to cook for the hands all the time.”

  The kitchenette would need updating, probably every bit of each cabin, but Cliff thought this might actually work. He pictured trail riders coming from cities and lowlands, discovering the world of mountain rides, clear air and bald eagles.

  He leaned back in his chair, figuring what it would take to have cabins and stalls ready, and what people like Emily would pay. It could work. It could actually save the ranch.

  He leaned over and startled Robin with a hard, fast kiss. “You’re brilliant, you know?”

  “Oh. Well, yes, of course I’m brilliant.” Her smile lit her whole face. “Just what is it I’m brilliant about?”

  “Everything,” he said. “But right now, it’s your great ideas.” He kissed her again, then pulled her from her chair. “Come on, I have a spot to show you out front. Okay, Uncle Phil?”

  Phil’s face cracked a smile and he waved them around the house. “Go ahead, boy. She’s not the only one with good ideas.

  Chapter 30

  Two months later, on a freezing December day, a small crowd gathered at the Double J Ranch. Stakes with neon ribbons marked where a new driveway would go, leading to a large square bordered with twine and more stakes. Robin stood bundled in her coat, papers in her gloved hands and Augie on a leash at her feet.

  She looked around at all these friends—Mr. Brown with Soldier, having finally adopted him the week before, the Powell family with a slightly less-pudgy Jello, and a few other families with dogs. Her mother, Justin and Cat, and Ree and Mitch surrounded a well-wrapped Grandma Jackson, home from the rehab center and using only a cane. Town council members also showed up, along with a few other guests.