by Liz Isaacson
“I’m sure you can.” Hudson flashed him a smile. “I know Scarlett’s glad to have you.”
“Yeah.” Carson put a smile on his face too. “I’m glad to be here.” And he was. He liked the sunshine. He liked the smell of this ranch. He liked spending his time whittling and thinking about what his life could be here.
He cleaned up and loaded his dogs in the back of his truck before dinnertime, before heading down the short canyon to get some groceries for the future and something to eat that night.
After unpacking everything in his cabin, he said, “Come on, guys. Let’s go explore a little bit.” He left the cabin on foot, his dogs trotting ahead of him and then coming back to circle him.
He looped through the cabins, counting thirteen. Only three were occupied, and his suspicions about this ranch just getting its feet under it were confirmed. Across from the cabins were alfalfa fields, and next to them the homestead. He walked down the road that bordered that, seeing three more cabins. Only two had lights on in the windows, and the one in the middle put off the scent of something savory and delicious.
As he walked past, the door opened, revealing a rectangle of yellow light in the dusk. He was a hundred yards away, but he could tell the woman coming outside was Adele Woodruff. He should just keep walking, but he didn’t.
He stopped and watched as she carried something heavy down the steps and went next door. She kicked the door and called, “Gramps, it’s Adele.” Her voice carried easily in the stillness on the ranch, and a smile started somewhere near his stomach and rose through him.
Gramps opened the door, and Adele said, “Dutch oven short ribs tonight,” in a kind voice. He wanted her to spend to him like that, and he watched while she went inside and Gramps closed the door.
He stood there for a moment longer and then continued his solitary walk down the road. On his left, the land continued without restraint, and he could see more lights in the distance. He reached an intersection and saw barns and stables to his left and a long road still in front of him. The road split two pastures, and he found horses in one and llamas in the other.
“Llamas,” he said, somewhat in awe. Hudson had mentioned an animal rescue program, and some of these llamas certainly looked a little worse for the wear. Up ahead, he smelled pigs before he saw them, and sure enough, they came into view around the back of a huge hay barn.
He circled back up past the pigs to find several more buildings, all of them dark. There was more to the ranch, but he couldn’t tell what in the darkness. Tony and Ted started barking as they passed another road that ran north, but Carson whistled at them to keep them with him.
“Come on, guys,” he said. “Let’s get home.”
Home. What a strange word. He wondered what constituted a home, and if he could make one here at this ranch.
One of his dogs barked again, but it was farther away than he realized. “Ted,” he called. “Tony.” He whistled, but they did not come running. Suddenly tired, Carson veered down the road and found a parking lot down there, along with a big empty arena. And his dogs, both of them standing near the fence, stretched out to sniff a couple of baby goats.
“Goats.” He chuckled as he approached. “Really, guys? We’ve seen goats and sheep before.” Cobble Creek seemed to be a bit like Noah’s Ark, and had two of almost everything. Even ferrets, as Terry had three of those as pets.
One of the goats bleated, and Carson said, “All right. Let’s go,” to Tony and Ted. He started walking across the parking lot when a car came tearing into it, spitting gravel as it came to a stop in front of him.
The headlights blinded him, so he couldn’t see who’d gotten out of the car. But he recognized the displeased, furious voice of Adele Woodruff as she demanded, “What are you doing with my goats?”
“Nothing,” he said, watching Ted and Tony streak toward her. Their tails wagged, so they weren’t worried about her reception of them.
“Nothing?” she repeated, ignoring his dogs. They sniffed her as she strode toward him. “I could hear them bleating from my cabin across the ranch.”
“It’s dead silent out here,” he said. “And your cabin isn’t that far away.”
She stopped several feet from him, her headlights illuminating her face. “You’ve been to my cabin?” She folded her arms, a look of pure disgust on her face.
“No, of course not,” he said. “I took a walk around the ranch, and I saw you taking dinner to Gramps. Who’s Gramps?”
“No one.”
“Your goats are fine,” he said. “The dogs have been saying hello to all the animals.” He gestured for Ted and Tony to come to his side. “Come on, guys,” he said. “Over here.” They trotted back to him, and if Adele was impressed with the level of control over his canines, she didn’t show it.
He wondered what it would take to impress this woman, and why he wanted to do it so badly. “We’re just on our way home.”
“Great, you do that. I’m going to check on my goats.”
“They’re fine,” he said as she blew past him.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” She paused next to him, and they looked at one another. Carson felt like lightning had struck him, and his only thought was to ask her out again.
Don’t do it, he told himself, and thankfully his voice had gone on vacation. She stormed away, and he thawed. “I’m sorry,” he called after her, only getting silence in return.
The following morning, he still didn’t have an assignment on the ranch. His lifelong habit was to get up before the sun and get work done, and while he hadn’t been at Cobble Creek for a couple of months now, his internal alarm clock remained.
Dawn found him practically tiptoeing across the lawn behind the homestead, a card pinched between his fingers. An apology card. Surely Adele couldn’t continue to be mad at him after three apologies. Could she?
He didn’t knock on her door, thinking the hour too early. Instead, he stuck the card between the door and the jamb and practically ran away from the middle cabin behind the homestead. He wasn’t sure why this woman called to him so strongly, nor why he felt like he needed her to forgive him for the parking lot incident.
Away from the cabins, he met another man on the road, and he said, “You must be the new guy. I’m Sawyer Smith.”
“Carson Chatworth.”
Sawyer wore his hair shaved along the bottom, but it looked dark before it disappeared up into his cowboy hat. “Well, I’m headed over to Horse Heaven if you want to tag along.”
“I do,” Carson practically shouted. He couldn’t waste the hours without working, and he needed something to do. And if he could work with horses, even better. So he changed directions and started walking with Sawyer.
“What else do you do here?” he asked.
“I run the horseback riding lessons on the weekends,” he said. “Things have been changing a lot, and I’m glad about them. Scarlett really wants this ranch to be something, and she could really use someone like you to help her.”
“She hasn’t said anything yet.”
“She’s got a lot on her plate,” Sawyer said. “She’s basically let me keep doing what I’ve been doing, but she’s asked I make sure all the horses, pigs, and llamas are healthy and their facilities are in top-notch condition. So I’ve been doing that.”
“How long have you been here?” Carson asked.
“About seven years,” he said. “Gramps hired me to help with the animals.”
There was that Gramps again. “And who’s Gramps?”
“Oh, Gramps is Scarlett’s grandfather. He owns the ranch. Well, he did. He’s signed it over to Scarlett now, but he’s lived here with his wife and family for decades.”
Carson thought of Adele taking dinner to him last night. “Is his wife…?”
“Oh, she passed away about seven years ago, too. He’s been here alone since, trying to take care of over a hundred animals.” Sawyer shook his head. “I’ve done the best I can, but this place is hundreds of acres, with dozens of daily
tasks. Scarlett, though, she’s dug right in and done whatever she’s needed to do.”
Sawyer reached the stables and opened the door. “And Adele too. She came with Scarlett, and the two of them have brought new life to the ranch.”
“What does Adele do?”
“She works in the stables here, cleaning and refreshing straw. She feeds the dogs with Gramps in the morning and evening. I think she has a soft spot for the old man.” Sawyer chuckled as he entered the stables. “But she mostly works with the goats.” He pointed to the wall just inside the door. “So we keep track of all the horses here. Scarlett feeds in the morning, but I think Hudson is going to take that over. We have sixteen horses here, and a couple of them are lame. From what I know, this was a rescue ranch before. Some of the animals have been here for years.”
“And Scarlett’s trying to do that again.”
“Yeah.” Sawyer sighed and said, “Okay, so today, we’re rotating horses from pasture to pasture, and we need to clean the water troughs.”
Carson worked with the horses, moving them where he was told. It was easy, soothing work, and he really enjoyed being somewhere that was a bit more mild in temperature than Montana. The winters at Cobble Creek were murder on the soul, and the summers blazed like the devil himself had a vendetta against the state.
But California was breezy, and though it was summertime, it didn’t feel like he existed only a few feet from the surface of the sun.
He didn’t really need tutoring in how to move horses or clean troughs or feeding schedules, but Sawyer was easy to talk to, and Carson appreciated his kindness.
“So do we just eat on our own for lunch?” Carson asked.
“Yeah,” Sawyer said. “Scarlett said she’s working on hiring people, but a ranch cook is way down the list.”
“Is that a thing?” he asked. “At my ranch in Montana, we used to bring food in sometimes. Or my dad would cook.”
“Every day?”
“Oh, no, not every day. Few times a week.” For some reason, a bolt of homesickness hit Carson, and he flashed Sawyer a smile. “Well, good thing I bought some groceries then. See you after lunch?”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll be working with the cattle. Stop by and grab me on your way over.”
“Will do.” He touched his hat in good-bye and continued to his cabin, where he let Ted and Tony into the backyard for a bit of playtime. He checked his phone, though he hadn’t heard it chime nor felt it buzz.
He’d included his phone number in the card he’d left on Adele’s front door, and he’d hoped she’d text him.
“A fool’s hope,” he muttered to himself as he pulled a pizza out of the freezer and twisted the knob to start preheating the oven. Adele was obviously not interested in him. So why did he keep thinking they could get together?
Chapter 5
Adele worked the flour and other dry ingredients into the wet, liking the smooth texture of cinnamon roll dough. She’d speed up the footage until the video was less than sixty seconds, but she took her time to make sure the dough was exactly right.
It rose in a warm spot in the window while she put butter in a bowl under the mounted camera. Then she used her phone to show putting the butter in the microwave and melting it. She measured out cinnamon and sugar, adding a pinch of nutmeg to make her rolls stand out among the many recipes out there. That, and she made a cream cheese frosting with a bit of orange zest. So it was almost an orange-cinnamon roll.
She put together the frosting under the lights and cameras, still waiting for the dough to rise. It was an astronomical amount of work to make cinnamon rolls, and even more to put the video together in order. Hardly anything was done in sequential order, but all the foodie videos were done that way.
With the frosting finished, she put it in the fridge as her air conditioner seemed to be on the fritz lately. Finally, the dough was ready, and she floured the board and rolled out the dough, spreading the partially melted butter over the rectangle. Then she sprinkled the cinnamon and sugar, as well as dotting the dough with splashes of orange zest.
She rolled the dough and used a piece of unwaxed, unflavored dental floss to cut the rolls into one-inch rolls that she placed precisely on the baking sheet under camera three. Both pans went into the oven, and she started the job of cleaning up.
Bit by bit, piece by piece, she got her kitchen back in order and had just sat down on the couch when someone knocked on her front door. She shot back to her feet, her heart pounding.
“Carson….” She let the word hang there, her fury bubbling up. She’d already gotten his card that morning when she’d left the house to feed the goats. She should’ve stayed there and worked with them, because some of the babies weren’t anywhere close to ready for yoga. But the cinnamon rolls had called to her, and she really wanted it to be her video for tomorrow.
She glanced left and right as if armed guards would burst through the walls, but nothing happened. She went to the door and peered through the peephole, only to find Scarlett standing on the front porch.
“Adele,” she called. “Can I come in?”
Adele cracked the door a couple of inches and said, “No. I’m busy.”
“Busy?” Scarlett tipped up on her toes to see over Adele’s head. She was a bit shorter than Adele, and it annoyed her that Scarlett was trying to snoop inside the cabin through a three-inch gap. “Did you make cinnamon rolls?”
Adele had several minutes left on the timer before the rolls would be done. And she didn’t want Scarlett inside for reasons she couldn’t articulate. So she opened the door wide enough to get out and onto the porch, bringing it closed behind her. “I don’t want to talk about it. You said I’d have my privacy out here.”
“From cinnamon rolls?” Scarlett searched her friend’s face, and Adele didn’t like the questioning in her friend’s eyes. “You’re acting really weird. Secret baking and what was with all that glaring at Carson the other day?” Scarlett edged back on the porch though it wasn’t very big. “And you still won’t tell me what you’re plotting with the goats.”
Adele couldn’t tell Scarlett about the goats. She had folders of information in a drawer in the kitchen, but things weren’t ready yet. She still had to finish training the goats, and get a budget for yoga mats, and do some more research on prices. She had a very good start on a program the ranch could use to generate income, but she wasn’t ready to share yet.
Scarlett sighed—a big, heavy sigh like Adele was being a jerk. And maybe she was. So she lifted her chin and said, “I’m willing to tell you two things. Name them.”
Scarlett grinned at her. “One: Carson.”
Adele rolled her eyes though her heart started to riot inside her chest. Of course Scarlett would want to know about Carson. “Oh, I met him in town the day before he came up for the interview. He was a real jerk, and I was shocked to see him show up here. That’s all.”
“Met him in town? You didn’t mention that.”
“Yeah, well, nothing worth mentioning.” Her voice pitched up slightly, and to hide it, Adele crossed her arms too. Maybe Scarlett hadn’t noticed. Maybe the thrumming in her pulse didn’t mean anything.
“You didn’t think an incredibly hot man was worth mentioning?” Scarlett’s incredulity wasn’t hard to hear.
“Not all of them are,” Adele said. “Besides, he doesn’t need this job.”
“How do you know that? He applied.”
“Yeah, because he’s homesick and bored.” She shook her head, about to reveal something she’d sworn to herself she’d take to the grave. “He sold that ranch in Montana because oil was discovered on it. He has plenty of money.”
She hadn’t looked him up online because she liked him. Nor because he’d left her a cute card with a cartoon elephant holding a balloon that said “I’m sorry,” on it in all lower-case letters. She’d looked him up online because no one—no one—had jeans that clean when they worked on a ranch. He had so much money—the ranch had sold for twenty billion—
he probably threw away his jeans at the end of every day.
Understanding filled Scarlett’s expression. “Oh, so you hate him on principle.”
“That’s right,” Adele said, her eyes widening. “I hate him on principle.”
Scarlett’s shoulders drooped, and she drew Adele into a hug and said, “I’m sorry it still hurts.”
Adele melted into her, her emotions overwhelming her in an instant. Hot tears stung her eyes, and she let a single tremor of grief out. “I hate that it still hurts.” She pulled away and wiped her face. “I hate that he still gets to make me feel like this.”
Hank. Why did he get to influence her so easily, over a year later? It didn’t seem fair, but she kept a tight grip on her emotions and sent a prayer up to the Lord to help her find peace. She’d certainly found more here than anywhere else, and she held that tightly too.
Everything inside Adele was so, so tight.
“It gets better,” Scarlett said. “I mean, I know you hate it when I say that, but it’s true.”
Adele nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear, where it fell right back out again. She hated her hair at this length. “What’s the second thing?”
Scarlett looked at the closed front door and back to the homestead, clearly trying to make a decision. “Goats,” she finally said.
Adele breathed a sigh of relief, because she wasn’t sure if she could tell Scarlett about the food videos right now. She straightened, ready to put on a professional show. After all, she was going to ask for money too. “Fine, but I don’t have all the details worked out yet, so keep that in mind.”
“It’s in mind.”
“Goat yoga.” A vein of excitement squirreled through her as she said each word very clearly.
“Goat yoga?” Scarlett laughed, and Adele wanted to stomp back inside and slam the door behind her. Thankfully, Scarlett cut the sound off quickly and asked, “Really, Adele?”
Adele had always thought much farther out of the box than Scarlett. “Really, Scarlett. People are doing all kinds of alternative exercise these days, and yoga is huge. Hot yoga. Beach yoga. And we could do goat yoga. I’m a trained yoga instructor, and we have the facilities. They’ve been doing it down South for a year or so—I saw it on TV a couple of months back—and I’ve been training the baby goats.”