Falling for the Rancher

by Roxanne Rustand

  Now, after several hours of unpacking moving boxes and putting things away, they all sat around his kitchen table, finishing off ham-and-cheese sandwiches, chips and quartered Honeycrisp apples,

  When Emma wandered into the screened porch off the kitchen to play with her dolls, she set aside the last part of her sandwich. “You seem awfully quiet. Is something wrong?”

  He took a last swallow of lemonade and didn’t answer.

  “I guess I was pretty thoughtless. I railroaded you into taking us to church, and didn’t stop to think that maybe you’re of a different faith and wouldn’t want to attend ours. Is that it?”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve gone to church. You were right—he’s a fine pastor, and he made me think. I’m glad I went.”

  But his solemn expression didn’t change.

  “Then what is it? Something’s wrong.”

  “I didn’t realize you’d lost your husband.” He regarded her with troubled eyes. “Emma told me. I’m sorry, Darcy. I know it must have been really hard for you both.”

  She’d always accepted sympathies without offering any explanation, knowing the truth was so awkward, so revealing about her past life, that it tended to open an uncomfortable chasm in conversations that niceties couldn’t bridge. And really, what could anyone say?

  Dean had been unfaithful and she had been a fool.

  But at the depth of compassion in Logan’s voice, she knew she couldn’t let any misconceptions lay between them.

  She leaned back in her chair to look into the screened porch, where Emma was still occupied with her dolls but beyond hearing range. “It was...complicated,” she said slowly, lowering her voice.

  “You don’t need to say anything. I know it’s not my business.”

  “But it is, I guess. Whether we work in the same clinic or just in the same town, we might both have long careers here, and I don’t want to hide the truth.” She took a deep breath. “Dean and I were classmates in vet school. Love at first sight, married quickly. We had big plans. When we graduated, we went into a lot of debt developing a mixed equine and small-animal practice in a leased facility north of Minneapolis.”

  She ran a fingertip down the condensation on her glass of lemonade. “Dean had always wanted the best, and he made sure we bought it. But his taste for class didn’t end with top-of-the-line ultrasound equipment and digital X-rays.”

  “I think I can guess what’s coming.”

  She shrugged deflecting his sympathy. “Emma was just two when I discovered he was having an affair. He oversaw the office manager and the accounting while I spent my time away from the clinic, being a mom. So I never noticed the billing discrepancies—money he’d diverted for entertaining his girlfriend, I guess. And I didn’t realize that many of his late-night vet calls didn’t actually involve horses.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Needless to say, when I found out, I felt like an absolute fool for trusting him. I guess it’s not an uncommon story—faithless husband, faithful wife—but it gets worse.”

  She glanced out at Emma once again to make sure she was still in the screened porch and too far away to hear.

  “A few months after he moved out, he was in the Caribbean with his gorgeous twentysomething girlfriend, living the high life on money he’d siphoned from our joint accounts before moving out. He had a scuba accident in deep water.”

  Logan’s jaw dropped. “I’m so sorry. How in the world did you...”

  “Of course, his latest girlfriend took off. At least she called to tell me about what happened, but she wanted no part of the funeral arrangements. I had friends who said I should just leave him down there—have his ashes scattered and be done with it. But what about Emma? It just didn’t seem right. Would she need the closure of a service to remember and a grave to visit?” She sighed wearily. “After he left our practice, he had no life insurance. So a ton of paperwork and over fifteen grand later, he’s now buried in Duluth, his hometown. And I’m still paying off those expenses, plus the loan I’d cosigned for his fancy new truck while we were still together.”

  “How did Emma take all of this?”

  “She misses her dad terribly, though I hope she never hears the truth about him. But do I miss him? Not so much after all he did to destroy us and hurt his daughter. The verse from Ephesians at church today is actually what got me through it all, though I had to post it above the kitchen sink and recite it hundreds of times before the message finally got through. My anger was hurting only me. It had no effect on the one who caused it.”

  His eyes were deep with understanding, and she wondered what he might have been through in his own life.

  “So,” she added with a half smile, “you might be running into clients who think we’d be quite a pair, because they sure have said that to me. But I promise you I’m not ever going down that road again, so you don’t need to worry. I’ve been there, done that, and it was a disaster—except that it gave me Emma. So never again.”

  “I bet there’ll come a time...”

  “Nope. Never.”

  He laughed. “Then I guess that does make us quite a pair.”

  Curious now, she waited for him to elaborate, but he sat back in his chair and fell silent for a few moments before clearing his throat.

  “I’ve been thinking about my original plans for the clinic. I agree with what you said earlier—that my original plans were narrow-minded. I was ignoring the obvious—that shutting down the small-animal clinic would be a big mistake.”

  “This is about misguided sympathy for me, isn’t it?” she asked flatly. “But I can build a solo practice of my own. You should do what’s best for you, not me.”

  “And that would be to keep the small-animal side going for the clients who already depend on it, with an associate vet who’s excellent at what she does.”

  “You should think on this for a while. When you moved here, you—”

  “I realize I was wrong.”

  She considered his words, then looked up and squarely met his gaze. “If we’re truly talking business here, I want the chance to buy into the practice, just as I would’ve with Dr. Boyd—twenty percent per year, until I’m a full partner.”

  “Sounds fair enough.”

  “But if you decide otherwise, I’m going out on my own. Let’s take the next week to think this over, and then we can decide which way we want to go.”

  She’d kept an eye on Emma while they were talking, but now she wasn’t in sight, and Darcy heard a faint telltale cough.

  “Excuse me.” She rose, grabbed her purse from the bench in the front entryway and hurried for the back porch.

  Emma had curled into a ball on a wicker love seat, her dolls strewn across the floor. She coughed again when Darcy sat down next to her. “Hey sweetie, how are you doing? Want to sit in Mommy’s lap?”

  Darcy pulled her onto her lap to sit upright and stroked her back, then rested her fingertips lightly along Emma’s ribs.

  “Is she all right?” Logan pulled up a matching wicker chair and settled into it, watching them with an expression of concern.

  “I think so. I don’t hear her wheezing, and she’s not laboring to breathe. But at the first cough I always start watching her closely, just in case.” She kissed the top of Emma’s head, then reached into her purse and withdrew a zippered vinyl bag. “We just want to be careful. Right, honey?”

  Emma nodded somberly. “I get scared sometimes.”

  “I know you do, sweetheart, but we take really good care of you, right?” Darcy pulled a plastic peak-flow meter from the plastic bag, swiftly set it up and gave it to Emma. “Okay now...big breath out. Big breath in—and blow.”

  Emma dutifully blew into the plastic mouthpiece.

  “Good job!” Darcy looked at the measurement showing along the length of the dev
ice, then had her do it once more. “Looks good, honey.”

  Logan asked, “So, it’s okay?”

  “Super. This gives us a measurement of lung function, and she’s in her normal range. But I think she and I are just going to sit here for a while and have a nice rest. Then I’ll get back to helping you out.”

  * * *

  By late afternoon, the haphazardly placed furniture in Logan’s great room and bedrooms had been arranged, and most of the paintings hung.

  Now all of the moving boxes had been emptied and flattened as well, the kitchenware and linens stored.

  Exhausted, Darcy took a final look around the main floor. “You have such a beautiful home. I love the woodwork and that massive stone fireplace.”

  “I barely glanced at the house when I flew in to look at the practice,” Logan said with a rueful smile. “I’m just thankful it turned out to be a nice place and not a money pit.”

  “It’s hardly that. And it’s such a beautiful place for entertaining. Dr. Boyd used to host parties here for his staff and clients at Christmas and on the Fourth of July. No one ever wanted to miss his summer hog roast, or the gorgeous decorations at Christmas. He always had a dazzling twenty-foot tree in the great room, and the pine trees lining the driveway were covered in lights. Traditions to continue, right?” she teased.

  “He must have had a team of elves to do all that,” Logan said wryly as he adjusted a lampshade. “It must have taken weeks.”

  “He did it all himself for years, I understand. But by the time I came on board, he’d started hiring a decorating service for Christmas and a catering service for all of the parties.” She glanced at her watch. “Well, I suppose we ought to go. Can you give us a lift?”

  “Of course...unless you think Emma might like a ride. I saddled Drifter a few minutes ago, and she’s ready to go.”

  Emma had been coloring at the kitchen table, but she whirled around at his words. “Really? I can ride a horse?”

  “It’s about time—you were a big helper today. You even colored some pictures for my fridge.” He grinned down at her. “And I’m pretty sure I have just about every size of helmet in the tackroom, so we can find one your size.”

  They all walked in the shade of towering pines on the way out to the barn, the fallen needles under their feet releasing the crisp scent of pine.

  Emma impulsively grabbed Logan’s hand and skipped along beside him. “Someday I’m going to have a pony and ride all day long. At night, too.”

  Logan cast a glance over his shoulder at Darcy. “Hear that, Mom? You’re going to need a larger yard and a barn. And you’ll need a pony with headlights.”

  “That might be a while.” Darcy leaned down to pick up a pine needle and crushed it between her fingers to release the Christmassy aroma. “But I look forward to it. I want her to have the same childhood I did.”

  He turned around and walked backward in front of her. “What kind of horses did you have?”

  “A grade Welsh mare when I was six, which was a lot like giving me car keys. Then a gradual progression of horses after that, each one a little better. I lived on those horses. Mom said the only time she saw me in the house was when I was sick. I started showing horses when I turned eight, but when I started vet school, I no longer had time.”

  “Sounds like an idyllic childhood.”

  “It was, with incredible freedom. My friends and I rode bareback for miles in every direction on the roads and trails. I wouldn’t let Emma do that now, though. The world is a scarier place. So, what about you?”

  A corner of his mouth lifted in a faint grin. “You rode for fun. I was working cattle and helping start our two-year-olds under saddle. I think Dad thought my sister and I would break less easily if we got dumped, so he turned that job over to us when we got into middle school.”

  Later, as she stood along the fence and watched Logan patiently leading the palomino and her elated daughter up and down the long driveway for at least the twelfth time, her thoughts kept slipping back to the conversation after lunch.

  She’d said what she’d truly believed, until now.

  After Dean’s cruel betrayal, she’d intended never to risk falling for anyone else. For whatever unknown reasons, Logan had said the same thing.

  But those words had now carved an empty, aching place in her heart. Was that really what she wanted? To become lonely and bitter like her mom, and continue their long family legacy of failed relationships?

  It didn’t take any thought to imagine which would be the most positive example for Emma. But did Darcy have the courage to risk taking a chance?

  Probably not.

  She watched Logan sauntering toward her, his sleeves rolled back, the first two buttons of his pale blue oxford shirt open to reveal his tanned throat. With those broad shoulders and his face shaded by his black cowboy hat and dark Oakley sunglasses, and he looked like a cowboy in a Levi’s commercial.

  The palomino’s long white tail swept the ground as Logan turned her around and headed toward the highway once again. “Last trip,” he called out over his shoulder. “Been a long day, and this cowboy’s done for. But Emma thinks you should take a spin.”

  Delightful memories from her own youth deluged her as Darcy watched them return from their final trip up the lane and back.

  The trail rides.

  The horse shows.

  And oh, the Minnesota State Fair—the most exciting of all. The cavernous cement arena had been called the Hippodrome back then, and every time she’d ridden through the wide entryway to compete in a quarter horse class, her adrenaline had soared and she hadn’t been able to stop grinning.

  After helping Emma dismount, she stepped lightly up into the saddle and adjusted her reins, the joy of being back on a horse again sending sparkles of delight down every nerve.

  Logan looked up at her, his eyes twinkling. “I don’t suppose we need to talk about the brakes.”

  “Probably not. But it’s been a while.”

  He tipped his head in acknowledgment. “She was my reining horse, just so you know, and she did pretty well in working cow horse classes.”

  Power steering deluxe, then. Delight washed through Darcy as she almost imperceptibly tensed the muscles of her calves and Drifter eased into a super slow jog on the soft grass-covered side of the lane, her head nice and low.

  Darcy twisted in the saddle to look at Logan. “I may never bring her back. Is that okay?”

  He laughed, but before he could answer, she cued the mare with a faint touch of a leg, and Drifter rocked into a slow lope, smooth as butter.

  With other delicate cues, the mare did flying lead changes on the straightaway. Rollbacks and 360s, and when the highway came into view, Darcy sent her into a faster loop and cued her for a sliding stop.

  Drifter sat down into the slide, as perfect as if she’d been headed for biggest shows in the country.

  Awed, Darcy leaned forward to hug the horse’s neck, then pivoted her toward the barn and let her saunter slowly on a loose rein during the half-mile trip home.

  Back at the barn, Emma watched Darcy with amazement, and Logan leaned against the fence, one boot heel hooked on a fence board. The knowing look on his face made her grin in return.

  “I haven’t had a horse for years, and you just made my day. My week. Maybe my year,” she breathed. “She’s spectacular. I’d love to work cattle on her.”

  “Back in Montana, my sister and I showed quite a bit. The mare is definitely quick.”

  “I’ve never owned a reining or cutting horse, but I’ve ridden a few. It’s so exhilarating—I can’t even explain it. They make me feel like I’m dancing.”

  He looked up at her with a strange, indecipherable expression. “I know exactly what you mean.”

  She swung out of the saddle, tossed the stirru
p over the seat, and rested a hand on the mare’s neck. Drifter hadn’t even broken a sweat. Her breathing was slow and steady.

  Darcy paused with her hand on the girth. “Are you riding now, or do want me to unsaddle her?”

  “Unsaddle. She’s cool and doesn’t need to be walked, but I can put her into one of the dry lots while I take you and Emma home.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d like to sell her.”

  He chuckled. “Charlie and Drifter will never be sold.”

  “How about if I throw in my house? My car? Oh, wait. It doesn’t run. Just the house, then. I don’t have much else of value.”

  “Sorry. Not even your house.” Laughing, he brushed an errant strand of hair away from her face. “But you and Emma are welcome to come out anytime.”

  “Tomorrow! Can we come tomorrow?” Emma begged. “Please?”

  “Probably not, sweetie,” Darcy said. “I’ll be working all day, and you’ll be at Mrs. Spencer’s, playing with your friends. In the evening I need to work on your room. But maybe another time.”

  Emma didn’t speak a word on the way home, and when they arrived she yawned and silently climbed down from Logan’s truck.

  “Looks like we’re going to have a quiet evening,” Darcy said as she followed Emma to the house with Logan at her side. “But I think she’s just overtired. Thanks so much for the wonderful day.”

  At the steps of the porch Darcy impulsively gave Logan a quick hug and stepped back, suddenly feeling a little flustered and awkward at unexpectedly crossing that invisible line between friends and something more.

  Yet how could she regret something that felt so right?

  Chapter Twelve

  “Looks like the wrecker beat us here,” Logan murmured when he took Darcy home on Monday after work. “Did they know where to take your car?”