by R. C. Ryan
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Ruth Ryan Langan
Cover design by Daniela Medina. Cover photography © Rob Lang.
Cover copyright © 2020 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
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First Edition: December 2020
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ISBNs: 978-1-5387-1688-5 (mass market), 978-1-5387-1687-8 (ebook)
E3-20200901-DA-NF-ORI
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Epilogue
Discover More
Billy’s Sourdough Rolls
Don’t miss Jonah’s story in the next Wranglers of Wyoming story, Meant to Be My Cowboy .
About R.C. Ryan
Also by R.C. Ryan
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Wildflower Ranch by Carolyn Brown Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
About Carolyn Brown
Ride off into the sunset with more hot cowboys from Forever!
To the dreamers, searching for their happily ever after.
And to Tom, who taught me to believe in happy endings.
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Prologue
Merrick Ranch—Devil’s Door, Wyoming
Fifteen Years Ago
The Merrick family was running on pure energy. They’d spent days up in the hills during one of the busiest calving seasons ever, and extra wranglers had been hired to assist with their chores. And though it was early May, a fierce snowstorm had blown in across the Tetons, turning the already difficult time into chaos.
Now, as they gathered around a campfire outside one of their range shacks, Bo Merrick looked around. “Where’s Casey?”
The adults looked to eleven-year-old Brand. As the oldest of Bo’s three sons, he was expected to keep an eye on his brothers, ten-year-old Casey and eight-year-old Jonah.
Brand shrugged. “Last time I looked, he was helping Ham.”
Everyone turned to the patriarch of the family.
Hammond Merrick frowned. “I haven’t seen the boy in more’n an hour.”
Ham’s son Egan wrapped his hands around a steaming mug of coffee. “That’s about the time I saw him take off on Thunder.”
Bo looked at his father incredulously. “He took off on my horse? In this storm?” Bo swore. “What the hell am I going to do with that crazy kid? He breaks all the rules we set. Argues with his grandmother while she’s trying to teach him some schooling. Fights with his brothers. And now he’s off to who-knows-where in a damned snowstorm.” He tossed the last of his coffee on the fire, setting up a cloud of steam as he turned toward the corral. “When I find him this time, he won’t be able to sit a horse for a week.”
“Hold on.” Old Hammond caught his grandson’s arm. “You stay here with the others. I have an idea where he might be.”
Before Bo could argue, Hammond strode away and minutes later was swallowed up by a curtain of snow as he rode his horse up the mountain.
Ever since Bo lost his wife, Leigh, in a tragic house fire and had returned to the old family ranch, his middle son, Casey, had become a wild child, regularly flouting the rules set up by his elders. He resented his Gram Meg, who had appointed herself their homeschool teacher, since they lived too far from town to attend a regular school. To escape his brothers, Casey had taken to riding across the hills, spending hours in the wilderness. The only place he seemed to feel at home was high in the Tetons, surrounded by mustangs, wolves and coyotes.
Hammond urged his mount faster as the snow continued to pile up. He hoped and prayed he was right about where Casey might be. Otherwise, it could prove to be a long, cold night for the boy alone on the mountain.
Up ahead he spotted something on the ground in a stand of trees. He felt his heart give a quick jolt.
“Casey! You all right, boy?”
A head came up, and Hammond took in a quiet breath. Alive. At least the boy was alive.
“What do you think you’re doing, boy?” When he drew close enough, he was out of the saddle and racing toward the boy, who was down on his knees in the snow, cradling the head of a newborn foal.
Tears coursed down Casey’s cheeks. “I heard wolves. I think they got his mama.”
Hammond’s eyes narrowed. “It’s a wonder you heard them, boy, over the bawling of the herd.”
Casey swiped at his eyes, embarrassed to be caught crying. “Without his mama to feed him and keep him warm, he’ll die up here in the hills.”
The old man’s mouth tightened into a grim line. It was natural for a boy who’d lost his mother at such a young age to identify with the foal’s loss. Still, this was a ranch, and someone had to teach him the cold, hard facts of life. “That’s nature’s way, boy. Only the strong can survive.”
The boy struggled to his feet, holding the wriggling foal to his chest. “He can grow strong enough to run free with the herd.”
“Where do you think you’re going with him?”
“To the barn.”
“In the dark?
”
“He can’t stay here. The wolves will be back.”
“And then what? You going to go without sleep to bottle-feed a scrawny critter that probably won’t survive more’n a day or two at most?”
“If I have to.” Without waiting for an argument, Casey turned away and grabbed the reins of Bo’s big roan gelding. The horse began walking beside the boy and his burden.
The old man watched as he mulled how to handle this. Then, in a moment of inspiration, he began walking beside Casey.
“Why don’t you let me carry the foal on my horse? That way, we can both ride back to the barn.”
Casey turned with a look of surprise. “You’ll help me? Even though you’re needed with the herd?”
“I will. But I’ll want something from you in return, boy.”
“What?” With a look of suspicion, Casey paused.
“You had your pa worried sick. You had all of us worried. I want your word that from now on, when you get the urge to disappear, you’ll tell someone where you’re going and when you’ll be back.”
Casey thought about his great-grandfather’s words before giving a nod. “Okay. Promise.”
Hammond released a long breath before pulling himself into the saddle. “Hand him over, boy.”
Casey did as he asked before mounting Thunder.
As the two began their descent, Hammond nodded toward the campfire in the distance. “On the way down, we’ll stop and assure the others that you’re safe. Your pa’s suffered enough. I won’t have him worrying a minute more than necessary.”
“Do we have to?”
“We do. And you’ll apologize for leaving without telling anybody where you were headed.”
Casey lowered his head, avoiding the old man’s eyes. “Yes, sir.”
Hammond’s stern voice turned as frigid as the weather. “Say it like you mean it, boy. And mean it when you say it.”
Casey’s head came up. He met Hammond’s direct stare with one of his own. “Yes, sir.”
Hammond Merrick was bone weary. His clothes were caked with mud and ice as he trudged into the barn and unsaddled his horse, rubbing it down before leading it into a stall with fresh feed and water. He’d been in the hills for more than a week, and all he wanted was a hot meal, the longest shower in history, and his own bed.
He was just about to leave when he heard a soft voice cooing in the adjacent stall. Looking over the rail he saw his great-grandson kneeling in the straw, stroking the head of the mustang foal.
“You’ve been here all week, boy?”
Casey looked over. “Pa said it was all right if I slept out here and looked after little Storm until he was stronger.”
“You gave him a name? I suppose next you’ll want him to be a pet.”
“No, sir.” Casey stroked the foal’s head. “As soon as he’s strong enough I want him to join his herd. But I thought I’d stick around and make sure the cow Pa brought me would take to him.”
That was when the old man noticed the cow dozing contentedly in a corner of the stall.
At his arched brow Casey smiled. “Pa brought her down from the herd this morning. He said she’d just lost her calf, and he figured she might be willing to accept this little orphan, just until he was big enough to eat on his own.”
Hammond removed his wide-brimmed hat and slapped it against his leg to hide his surprise. “What was your father thinking? A cow’s not the same as a wild horse, boy. How’s he supposed to learn how to run and jump and live free with a slowpoke cow for a mama?”
“When he’s strong enough, he’ll figure it out. Isn’t that what those ducklings did when you put those duck eggs under one of our laying hens?” Casey’s eyes lit up with the memory. “That poor old hen nearly went crazy racing along the edge of the river when her babies jumped in and started swimming away.”
Hammond threw back his head and roared. “You’re right, boy. I guess I forgot about that.” He scratched his head. “This poor old cow. I’d hate to see what she’ll do when her calf starts jumping over her back and racing around like those mustangs do.”
Casey stood and the little foal scrambled up to stand beneath the cow. In no time the foal was feeding, while the cow reached around to lick its soft hide.
The boy stepped out of the stall before leaning his arms along the rail to watch. “Maybe next year she can have herself another calf. Then she won’t have time to worry about this little guy.”
The old man put an arm around the boy, and the two of them stood, savoring the moment.
Hammond’s voice was gruff. “That foal looks healthy. You did good, boy.”
“Thanks, Ham.” The boy looked up at him with a smile of pure delight. “When I grow up I’m going to know all there is about animals, just like old Doc Mercer.”
“So.” Hammond cleared the unexpected lump from his throat. A tough old bird, he insisted on being called Ham rather than any of the warm and fuzzy names usually associated with elderly relatives. He’d been ranching all his life, and he rarely got emotional about something as simple as the spectacle of a newborn animal. But this was so much more than that. This was an opportunity of a lifetime.
“It takes a heap of schooling to become a veterinarian, boy.”
“I don’t care. It’s what I want.”
“That means you’ll have to stop fighting your grandmother about your schooling. And you need to stop fighting your brothers while you’re at it. You’ll have to take your lessons seriously and pour all your energy into learning all you can.”
“I will, Ham. I’ll do whatever I have to.”
His great-grandfather turned away. “You coming inside, boy?”
Casey shook his head. “Gram Meg said she’d bring me some supper later. I think I’ll sleep out here for another night or two. You know, just in case I’m needed.”
“Well then, good night, boy.”
“’Night, Ham.”
Hammond Merrick turned away, his eyes narrowed in thought. It was plain to see that Casey had a deep and abiding love for all animals. But only time would tell if the boy had the brains and the discipline, not to mention the determination, to reach such a lofty goal as becoming a doctor of veterinary science.
Chapter One
Merrick Ranch—Present Time
’Morning, Billy.” Casey Merrick helped himself to a tall glass of freshly squeezed orange juice before joining his family, seated around the big fireplace.
At the stove, Billy Caldwell, the ranch cook for more than twenty years, nodded a greeting before flipping pancakes onto a platter. Despite his love of good food, he was rail-thin.
“Storm coming in.” Hammond pointed toward the peaks of the Tetons, layered in thick clouds.
He turned to his great-grandson. “Billy says he’s packing food for your trek into the hills.”
Casey nodded. “With the ranch buttoned up for the winter, I thought I’d get away. Maybe in my travels I’ll get a glimpse of Storm’s herd.”
The elders in the family shared knowing looks. Through the years Casey had made it his business to keep track of the orphaned foal he’d rescued while pursuing a course of studies that was daunting. He’d chronicled Storm’s passage from being assimilated by its mother’s herd to reaching an age of independence. Now, all these years later, the stallion had a herd of mares and their young totaling more than two dozen.
Along the way, Casey had become something of an expert on the local wildlife, and was often consulted by ranchers and conservationists seeking his advice.
Meg caught Egan’s hand and squeezed, as she studied their grandson. “Maybe you should wait a few days, to see whether this storm fizzles or grows.”
Casey gave her a gentle smile. “Gram Meg, I don’t want you worrying. I’ve been traveling these hills long enough to know how fickle Mother Nature can be.”
“Fickle? Are we talking about you and your love life again, bro?” Brand and his wife, Avery, strolled into the kitchen, wearing matching smiles.
“It’s a burden, but I’ve learned to carry it.” Casey fist-bumped his older brother and bent to brush a kiss on his sister-in-law’s cheek. “All the lovely ladies at Nonie’s Wild Horses Saloon and Cafe will still be there, pining away, when I return.”
That brought groans from the others.
Casey’s aunt Liz, his father’s younger sister, helped herself to a mug of coffee. “I spotted your bedroll and supplies out in the barn. You sure you want to head into that storm?”
“Now you’re sounding like your mom.” At Casey’s remark, the others shared a laugh.
Liz winked at her mother. “You’ve always been the sensible one, Mom. But Casey, not so much.”
Brand joined in the laughter before turning to his younger brother. “One of these days you’ll return from one of your wilderness adventures to find that all your friends have married and your own personal herd reduced to a couple of toothless hags.”
“And pigs will fly, bro. Look at Chet.”
When his family members glanced at the ranch foreman, Casey added, “Closing in on fifty, and still one of the area’s most eligible bachelors.” Casey gave Chet a thumbs-up. “You’re one of my heroes, man.”
Bo glanced over as his youngest son, Jonah, strolled in. “I thought you were up at your cabin, knee-deep in work.”
“I was.” Jonah helped himself to coffee. “But then I woke up this morning and realized all I had to eat was an apple and half a candy bar.”
“And,” Casey finished for him, “you figured why not grab a Billy special before tackling another chapter of your latest book.”
“Exactly.” Jonah turned to the cook. “What’s on the menu this morning, Billy?”
“Steak and eggs, with a side of pancakes.”
Jonah gave a sigh. “Did you do all that just for me?”
Billy grinned. “For all of you. But especially since the good doctor is about to go off on one of his mountain walkabouts. I figured I’d send him off with something memorable. Except for the few meals I’m sending along, he’ll have to live with his own cooking for the next couple of weeks.”
Brand dropped an arm around Avery’s shoulders. “So we have Dr. Casey to thank for this fine meal.”