True Horizon

by Laurie Winter

  Laughing, she tipped her head. Small, puffy clouds floated above her in a baby blue sky. “I don’t think there’s any danger of that. Walking a straight line really isn’t my style.”

  The wide open prairie spread out before them, dotted with Texas bluebells, ranging in color from purple to white. For a while, she enjoyed riding in silence. When she crossed the shallow, pebble-bottomed creek, the horses’ metal shoes clinked against the stones. Cold water splashed from the creek, dampening the denim just above her boots.

  Shadow ran ahead before stopping to wag his bushy tail as he waited for them to catch up. Every so often, he would approach a cow and bark a brief greeting, but always stayed clear of swinging horns.

  Heath’s shoulders had relaxed into a more natural position, and he held the reins with slack. His knuckles had returned to a ruddy bronze. When he looked over at her, his smile twinkled in his eyes, which were framed in impossible thick, dark lashes. She could barely make out the dimple in his cheek because it was hidden by that shaggy beard. What she wouldn’t give for a razor. She’d shave off that horrid thing.

  Up ahead, the gate appeared, along with the entrance to the forest trail. Grace decided now was as good a time as any to approach the delicate subject of what happened last night. “So…will you tell me how you ended up in Molly’s jail cell?”

  “Not much of a story…drank too much, ran into a trio of rowdy sailors, and spent a few hours in jail.” He shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

  He may very well have had worse nights, but none that involved her. His vague answer didn’t touch the heart of her question. “I guess what I want to know is why. You were clearly outmatched, so why did you pick a fight?”

  “You want the simple answer? I’m not a very nice guy.” He stared down at his scraped-up fists holding onto the reins. “I drink more than I should. I get into fights.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Everything she’d learned of Heath Carter told her he was a man of honor. She’d seen his gentle manner with the ranch animals. For her, the way a person treated animals was a good indication of the quality of their soul.

  “Well, sometimes the truth is hard to accept.”

  “Stop using those lines as an excuse.” She narrowed her eyes. “You must have had some reasonable explanation for why you went after three Navy guys last night.”

  He remained quiet for several seconds before letting out a long breath. “Those sailors.” He spat on the grass. “One of them was a local boy. They were heading to San Diego for BUD/S training.”

  “What’s BUD/S?” She hopped off Silver to open the gate.

  “It’s the Navy SEAL’s training program. They were talking tough and acting like they were better than everyone else in the room, even though they hadn’t yet seen a lick of action. Hanging out on a ship in the ocean is different than having your boots on the ground in the middle of a war.”

  Grace walked her horse through the open gate, and Heath’s horse followed. She closed it behind him before swinging back onto her horse. “I can understand how that would’ve gotten under your skin.”

  “I listened for an hour or so, rattling off a lot of BS. Blood and glory. I know how easily that can turn into a nightmare.”

  “Why didn’t you walk away?” She flicked her wrist to pull the reins to the right, and she started through a green tunnel. Trees and low shrubs enclosed a wide path. The crunch of gravel under the horses’ shoes played a rhythmic beat.

  “I don’t know what came over me.” His gaze drifted into the woods. “The sailors got up to leave, and the waitress handed them their bill. One of them told her it should be on the house. They were training to become SEALs and shouldn’t have to pay. She called after them, saying if they didn’t pay, the money would come out of her paycheck. All she got for her trouble was an unsolicited kiss.” He shifted and looked straight into her eyes. “The next thing I remember, I’m throwing punches.”

  “I’m glad you weren’t seriously hurt. Just a few bumps and bruises.” She glanced over at the deep purple bruise covering his left eye and cringed. That can’t feel good.

  “Those boys didn’t have much fight. They were full of hot air.” His loud laugh startled Daisy. As the horse jerked forward, he tightened his grip on the reins.

  They approached the end of the trail, and the trees gave way to a wide field full of white and yellow wildflowers. A pond sat directly ahead.

  Shadow took off to chase after the ducks, which waddled into the water, quacking.

  This small patch of heaven used to be her favorite spot. Growing up, she would often come here to be by herself. Now, she hoped Heath would find peace as well. Grace brought Silver to a halt and turned to Heath, who was at her side. “See, you survived! Time for lunch.”

  ****

  Heath followed Grace’s lead and tied his horse to a section of old wooden fencing. He unstrapped the bag resting behind Silver’s saddle and carried it over to the shady spot where Grace had spread out a blanket. If he let his guard down, even for a moment, he could slip into loving her. Part of him wanted to pretend, just for this afternoon, that she was his.

  He trusted her, even after he’d sworn that part of his soul was a dead zone. She had him opening parts of himself that had been sealed shut. Maybe, the soothing tempo of the horse ride or the serene landscape had lowered his guard. Most likely though, the reason was Grace’s kind and caring personality. She didn’t buy his canned lines or his excuses. Grace pushed him to be truthful and along with that, forced him out of the shadows.

  The dog now lay on the grass with his head resting on his front paws, watching the ducks swim in the pond.

  Grace sat with her long legs stretched out. She opened the bag and pulled out a container of fried chicken and a plastic bag that held three biscuits. Then she grabbed a plate and filled it with food. “I brought some leftovers from Mom’s dinner last night. I hope that’s okay. Did you get back your appetite?”

  He appreciatively took the plate Grace handed him. “This is perfect.” His stomach had finally stopped churning. Now, it was empty and growling for food.

  “Thanks for taking over building my wedding gazebo. It’s one less thing my dad has to worry about.” Grace split open the biscuit and smothered the insides with strawberry jam.

  “He gave me the plans yesterday, which don’t look too complicated. Good thing. There’s not much time between now and your wedding.” The corners of Grace’s mouth tilted down, liked she’d tasted something sour. Shouldn’t a soon-to-be bride glow when she spoke about her wedding? Grace appeared less than thrilled.

  “The big day will be here before I know it. I’m starting to get nervous that something won’t go right. I have so much to keep track of. Maybe having both the wedding and reception at the ranch wasn’t such a great idea. I could have saved a lot of trouble and run off to Vegas.”

  “How would your mother react to that?” He took another bite of fried chicken and groaned in satisfaction. Joslyn Murray might have the makings of a Five Star General and to be honest, she scared him a little, but the woman was a queen in the kitchen.

  Grace shook her head and smirked. “Oh…she’d never forgive me.” A light breeze lifted several strands of her hair, and she brushed them off her face. “Have you ever been married?”

  “A long time ago. We were both too young, and it was short lived.” He hadn’t thought about his ex-wife, Jessica, in a long time. Their marriage had provided him with a sense of home, and he’d given her a military husband. In the end, she had wanted more than just a man in uniform stationed a half a world away. “Our marriage lasted less than a year. She served me divorce papers while I was stationed in Iraq.”

  Her eyes widened. “I can’t believe someone would do that.”

  The purity of her reaction was what he’d grown to expect from Grace. He sensed her nature was to do the right thing, even if the harder option. “Truthfully, it didn’t come as a surprise. We hadn’t known each other very long before we married.
Then, I was sent overseas one month after the wedding.”

  “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” Finishing her lunch, she set down her plate and lay on her side, propping her head on a hand. Her bare feet stuck out past the frayed edges of her jeans. Across her tan shoulder and chest rested a long, dark braid.

  Heath’s gaze roamed over her curves. Needing a distraction, he tossed Shadow the last corner of his bread and got a slobbery lick as payment.

  “I think he’ll be your shadow from now on.” Grace smiled.

  “In Afghanistan, dogs ran wild around the villages. We brought a few back to the base. My favorite mutt, Moe, ended up going home with a soldier from Kansas.”

  Anxiety at the memory of war made his muscles tighten, so he stood to refocus his energy. He looked across the wide field. The grass around them was knee high and swayed with the wind. Small brown sparrows and yellow finches darted from the grass and flew across the blue sky.

  “You see the hill on the other side of the pond?” She pointed at a small mound in the distance. “That’s the first dwelling on the ranch. It’s a home built into the side of the hill. Would you like to take a look?”

  He meandered with her over to the spot. As he got closer, he could see a low opening cut into the hill. “This structure looks like some of the rudimentary dwellings I saw overseas.”

  “In the mid-1800s, my father’s ancestors bought this plot of land in hopes of making a living. They were a young couple having a hard time fitting in with society. He was a white man, and she was full-blooded Cherokee.”

  An image formed in his head of Grace’s Cherokee ancestor, a woman who probably looked very much like Grace. “You’re part Cherokee.”

  “You thought I was adopted, didn’t you?” She gave him a light punch on the arm. “I know…I look nothing like my parents or my brother. Every few generations, the Cherokee genes make a strong reappearance. I look just like my dad’s grandmother when she was my age.”

  He must have been staring because her cheeks grew red. But how could he stop? Between her breathtaking Native American beauty and the wonderful person she was on the inside, she was special, and his heart was a goner. Heath walked over to get a closer look at the earthen house. The front was covered in logs, which supported the structure. A dirt roof provided a good habitat for the tall grass and flowers that grew on the sloping hill.

  “You want to come inside?” Grace bent to step into the opening. “I think it’s still safe.”

  He followed her into cool, damp air, which came as a relief from the heat outside. He breathed in the stale smell of dirt and decayed wood—scents that reminded him of Afghanistan, and tried not to panic. Beside the light coming in from the doorway, the space was dark. He had to feel his way forward.

  A burst of light came from a candle in Grace’s hand, filling the small room with a warm glow.

  As he studied his surroundings, he calmed. The interior was framed with logs and stone. Standing inside this ancient dwelling, he felt like he’d stepped into another time.

  Chapter Ten

  Once upon a time, the old dugout had been her escape. When the teasing had gotten too much, or the expectations were too great, she would get on her horse and ride out here to hide. When Grace had been twelve, she’d first discovered the dugout. She’d spent weeks working up the nerve to step into the time-worn structure. But once inside, she’d felt safe and protected. Now, she watched Heath look around.

  He picked up a piece of carbonized wood and a few shards of clay pots scattered on the ground. “This is pretty cool.” Heath stood and bent his neck forward to avoid hitting the hand-hewn ceiling beams.

  “They lived here while the permanent house was being constructed. That log house isn’t standing anymore. Eventually, the family built the current main house.” She’d seen faded black-and-white photographs of the original log house. What incredible strength someone must possess in order to create a home from raw materials. Her ancestors’ homestead had been small and humble, but she was proud of their determination.

  Heath examined the crumbled fireplace. “Someday, this whole thing will collapse. I hope nobody’s in here when it does.”

  “I’m the only one who ever comes out here.” The toe of her boot traced the outline of a heart in the dirt floor. “I used to pretend I was a pioneer woman, and this was my little house on the prairie.” She laughed at the memory of spending hours here, lost in her own imagination. He gave her a smile that had no hint of judgment. A gift of acceptance for the insecure, daydreaming girl she’d once been.

  As he studied the construction of the wall, his hand glided across a long plank set into the dirt wall.

  What would his calloused hand feel like caressing her—running over her bare leg? Shaking her head, she tried to remove the thought, without much luck.

  “Have you ever noticed this recess in the wall?” He slid several large stones off to the side. “There’s a wooden box in here. Looks rotted.” He slid the box into the middle of the floor.

  The box might have been used for storing root vegetables. She opened the lid, which creaked on its rusty hinges. Using the candle for illumination, she glanced inside. “A metal case is in here. Can you get it out?”

  Heath tipped the rotten wood box and pulled out the metal container. The metal was flat and dull, blemished with only a few rust spots. After setting it on the ground, he pried the lid with his fingertips, but the thing wouldn’t budge. “This is in good condition for being so old.”

  The metal box was square in shape, as tall as it was long. Its secrets pricked at Grace’s imagination. The box was a leftover from another time, maybe holding nothing of value but might provide a window into her ancestors’ early life together on the ranch.

  “This lid is locked tight.” Heath lifted it with a grunt. “And it’s heavier than it looks.”

  “Can’t you pick the lock?”

  “Do I look like the type of guy that knows how to pick a lock?” he asked, followed by a beat of deep laughter. “Wait, don’t answer that. Let’s take it home. With the right tools, I can get it open.”

  She left the dugout with Heath following. Sunshine and heat greeted her, chasing away the chill she’d gotten while inside.

  He bent to set the box under the protection of the framed doorway. “I’ll come back later with the ATV.”

  “Thanks, Heath.” She studied the box again, now in the sunlight. “What do you think is in there?”

  “You’ll have to be patient.” He winked.

  In that moment, her fiancé seemed so far away. Heath was there, standing right before her, making her heart beat way too fast. No doubt her feelings for Heath were dangerous. Not because she was worried about her safety. He had this unsettling effect on her, like her heart didn’t feel balanced in her chest.

  She imagined what his lips tasted like, or how the hard angles of his body would feel under her touch. All the tattoos covering his arms were incredibly sexy. Did he have more hidden under his shirt? She was the moth, and Heath was the flame. Could she enjoy the heat without getting burned?

  “We should probably head home.” Needing to look away, she turned her back to him. “I’m sure you have things you wanted to do on your day off.” Grace started strolling toward their horses, grazing on the tall grass by the fence.

  “Nothing too important.” He walked at her side. “This was nice, Gracie. Thanks for twisting my arm to make me come.”

  He’d called her Gracie. Dad had used that endearment and only when she’d been a little girl. Once she had reached the mature age of thirteen, she’d insisted to be called only by her given name. But now, coming from Heath’s lips, Gracie didn’t sound childish. The name sounded kind of sexy. “I’m glad you finally acquiesced without too much of a fight.” She grabbed Silver’s reins and led her out to the open field. “Do you remember how to get on, or do you need a boost?”

  Before she could finish, he’d swung himself up into the saddle.

  The smile
on his face was borderline cocky. His eyes glistened with a smug challenge. Let’s see if you can ride at a trot, tough guy, without hollering like a little girl.

  “You might make a cowboy of me yet.” With a light tap with of his heels and a firm hand on the reins, he got Daisy moving toward the path.

  “I could picture you as a cowboy.” Her gaze swept over his body, appreciating his athletic physique. “Just swap out the baseball cap for a Stetson and your work boots for Justin Ropers. I could teach you how to cut cattle on horseback.”

  “Cut cattle? That sounds brutal.” One eyebrow arched.

  “No actual cutting is involved,” she said with a laugh. “You are only separating a calf or an adult from the herd. I did it competitively when I was a teenager and have the trophies to prove it.”

  “While I appreciate the offer, I’m still a greenhorn.” He clicked his tongue, which Daisy took as direction to increase her speed. Heath let out a holler and whipped his head around. His face twisted.

  His attitude had switched from over-confidence to sheer panic. Watching him bounce down the path and disappear around the corner, she couldn’t stop her laughter. “Wait for me!”

  ****

  After Grace drove Heath into town, she slowly made her way back home. Once Grace walked into the house, she spotted her mother darting out of the kitchen.

  “Have you completely lost your mind?” she asked. “What were you thinking going out with that man…all alone?”

  Grace noted the red flush on her mother’s cheeks and her high-pitched voice, not a good sign of what was coming her way. “Last time I checked, I’m an adult and perfectly sane.”

  “We hardly know him. He could have hurt you.”

  “He’s not a threat.” She held the end of her braid in her hand and twirled it back and forth, a habit formed during the many clashes of opinion with her mom. “I’ve always found riding therapeutic, and I hoped Heath would feel the same.”

  Joslyn let out a long sigh. “Just because he works for us doesn’t make him our problem. You should be focusing on your wedding to Tyler, not playing amateur shrink to a troubled vet.”