Harvest at Mustang Ridge

by Jesse Hayworth

  Or, rather, the rainbow at the end of the tunnel. Because as the luxury bus followed the winding drive between two grassy fields—horses on one side, cattle on the other—they were headed straight for a perfect rainbow that arched over the valley beyond.

  “Would you look at that?” Danny’s seatmate plastered her face to the window. “It’s a sign!”

  Danny made a polite noise of agreement. Kiki-From-Cambridge had been talking in exclamation points the entire three-hour ride, to the point that the heavily made-up—and generously endowed—brunette had seemed to be in danger of popping the snaps of her fringed Western shirt as she babbled on about everything from the gum-smacking guy who had sat next to her on the plane to the fact that she hadn’t been on a horse since she got bucked off a lead-line pony at the age of six. That made Danny wonder why she had decided on a dude ranch for her summer vacation, but she kept the question to herself and gave Kiki props for facing her fears.

  Too bad she was doing it at top volume a couple of feet away.

  Most of the others on the bus had tuned Kiki out by the thirty-minute mark, leaving Danny wishing she had taken the singleton seat in the far back.

  “Can you believe we’re finally here?!” Kiki gave a happy sigh. “It feels like I’ve been waiting for this forever. What color horse do you hope you get? I want a yellow one! Pimiento, they call it.”

  Danny couldn’t help herself. “I think it’s palomino.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure it’s pimiento. And did you see the cowboys on the Web site?” Kiki made a yum-yum noise. “I’d like to take a ride on one of them!”

  Trying not to picture a horse made of pimiento loaf, a deli product called palomino loaf, or Kiki riding anything two-legged, Danny pointed out the window. “Oh, look! There’s the ranch! Isn’t it pretty?” Kiki made a happy noise and flattened her nose to the glass once more, making Danny wonder what she looked like from the other side, and then gave herself a mental kick for being bitchy. It wasn’t Kiki’s fault that Danny was winding down just when everyone else on the bus was gearing up. Hoping her internal eye rolls hadn’t made it to the outside, Danny asked, “Do you see any of those cowboys?”

  “Not yet,” Kiki said, staring raptly as the valley unfolded in front of them. “But I see more horses, and you’re right. It’s sooo beautiful down there!!”

  And, yeah, if Danny hadn’t given up the window seat the second time Kiki leaned across her to ooh-ahh before they even left the airport loop road, she would have been making a face-print of her own on the glass.

  Tucked into a perfect V of sun-toasted valley, the ranch was a mix of old and new, from the log-style main house and matching guest cabins scattered near an almost perfectly circular lake to the big steel-span barn that bumped up against an older wooden structure. Fence lines spidered out from the barns and bordered a dirt track that led through a perimeter fence and up a shallow slope to a ridge. Beyond that somewhere was Blessing Valley. Her valley.

  Danny let out a soft sigh. It looked peaceful. Wonderful. And like it was exactly what the doctors had ordered.

  “Wow is right!” Kiki said, suggesting that Danny had said the word aloud. “Aren’t those just the cutest cabins you’ve ever seen?”

  The noise level increased as the other passengers roused from their travel fugue with exclamations of “There’s the pavilion where they have dancing!” and “Do you think we can fish in the lake?” along with lots of “Ohh, look at the horses!”

  The rising chatter bounced around Danny as the young cowboy in the driver’s seat pulled the shuttle up in front of the barn and killed the engine. Getting on the intercom to project over the noise of two dozen vacationers readying to make a break for it, he said, “Welcome to Mustang Ridge, folks! I’d like to invite you to hop on down, fill your lungs with some fresh Wyoming air, and connect with Krista, Rose, or Gran—they’re the ones wearing the green polo shirts and carrying clipboards. They’ll get you set up with your cabins and tell you all the cool stuff that comes next.” He gave a dramatic pause, then deepened his voice. “So . . . are you ready to take your first step onto the soil that’s been walked by cowboys of the Skye family for more than ten generations?”

  As a ragged group shout rose, made up of lots of Yeah and Woo noises, Kiki scrambled over Danny and leaped into the aisle, where she did a shimmy-shake that set a whole lot of stuff shimmying and shaking, and hollered, “Let’s ride ’em, cowboys!”

  The driver’s eyes went deer-in-headlights wide in the rearview mirror, and, instead of doing the “I can’t hear you” thing that was probably next in the script, he popped open the doors. “Watch your step, folks! And welcome to Rustlers Week!”

  Danny stayed put while the first wave of guests stampeded off. Then she and the stragglers filed out into a whole lot of sunshine. The minute her hiking boots touched down, she got a quiver in her belly that said, You’re here. You made it. Welcome to the next chapter of your life. Which was totally the power of suggestion, thanks to the bus driver’s rah-rah routine, but still. Moving away from the bus, she filled her lungs with dry, sweet-smelling air that carried the scents of horses and sunbaked grasslands.

  “You must be Danielle,” a voice said from behind her.

  She turned, doing a double take at the sight of a pretty, perky blonde who wore a green polo and a baby sling, and was entirely familiar, yet not. “Krista. Hi! Yes, it’s me. But, please, call me Danny.” She peeked inside the sling and saw the curve of an infant’s head, blond baby-fine hair, and a fat pink bow. “And this must be Abigail Rose.”

  Krista’s lips curved. “Abby to her friends, which includes you. Any friend of Jenny’s is a friend of ours.”

  “Jenny and I really only worked together for a month or so.” In a faraway rainforest, where Krista’s twin had been filming a reality dating show and Danny had been in charge of the zip-lining, bungee jumping and canyoneering dates.

  It felt like another lifetime.

  “If she says you’re cool, then you’re cool,” Krista said firmly. Then, to the baby, she said liltingly, “Isn’t that right, Abby-gabby? Your Aunt Jenny knows her stuff. And, thanks to her, Danny here is going to hang out with Jupiter’s herd up in Blessing Valley for a while. Won’t that be fun?”

  Throat tightening, Danny managed, “I’m grateful. Really. I don’t know how to tell you what this means to me.”

  Krista patted her shoulder. “Don’t stress it—we’re happy to help. I get it, though. You’re way more used to doing favors than needing them.”

  Danny eyed her. “Jenny told you that?”

  “Nope, but like recognizes like.” Krista adjusted the sling as the sleeping baby shifted against her, curving into her body like a small, sleepy shrimp. “Up until a year ago, I had to be in charge of things, no matter what. The ranch, the business, life in general . . . I might have asked for help now and then but always on my terms.”

  “And then she came along?” Danny nodded to the baby.

  “Well, first her father came along.” Krista’s brilliant blue eyes gained a glint. “Wyatt. We were college sweethearts who crossed paths again at a time when I needed a cowboy, he needed some saddle time, and neither of us was thinking about romance. At least that was what we keep telling ourselves.”

  “And you’re getting married soon.” Jenny had passed along that detail while Danny had still been trying to catch up with the idea that her freewheeling, country-hopping photographer friend was married to a veterinarian and living in Wyoming when she used to swear she’d never return home for more than a quick visit.

  A pleased flush touched Krista’s cheeks. “We’ve got nine weeks until the wedding. Long enough to feel like I should change everything but not long enough that it’s an option, so we’re going with the plan we’ve got—family and friends under the pavilion.” Her expression brightened. “You’re invited, of course. Please say you’ll come!”

  Danny had to stop herself from backpedaling, which was silly. Maybe for a while she had
hoped the next wedding she went to would be her own, but it was past time for her to stop flinching over that. “I’d be honored,” she said. “Thanks for inviting me.”

  “Brilliant! Don’t stress about dressing up, but if you want to shop, Jenny and I are always up for a girls’ night, or afternoon or whatever. And our friend Shelby—she always manages to make the stuff she finds in town look like it came out of a fashion magazine.”

  “That sounds fun.” She couldn’t spend the whole summer alone, after all. Besides, she wanted to thank Jenny in person for e-mailing out of the blue to catch up, and then, when Danny gave her the short version of the past couple of years, responding with: Come to Mustang Ridge. It’s the perfect place to get your head screwed back on straight.

  “Sweetie?” a voice called from the other side of the bus. Moments later, a petite, white-haired woman came around the front of the shuttle, eyes lighting when she caught sight of Krista. “There you are! I’m going to fix a few folks up with snacks while your mom and Junior show everyone else to their cabins. Do you need anything?”

  “Nope, I’m good for right now, and Miss Abby is conked out.” Krista patted the heavy curve of the sling. “Bless her for being a good sleeper, and pretty much the best baby ever—not that I’m biased or anything. But before you go, Gran, I want to introduce you to Danny Traveler.”

  “Hello, dear! It’s so lovely that you’re here. How was your flight?”

  “It was fine.” She had picked a plane that had a single row of seats on one side, then strapped herself in, chased an Ambien with a screw-top micro-bottle of white wine, and practiced her deep breathing exercises. It hadn’t been fun, but she had made it through.

  Gran’s eyes went sympathetic, like she had said the rest of it out loud. “I stocked your camp with supplies, but come see me before you and Krista head out there. I have a little basket put together for you.”

  “And by little she means approximately the size and mass of the average blanket chest,” Krista put in.

  Danny cleared her throat, suddenly overwhelmed—by the warm welcome, the chaos, all the people around her. To Krista, she said, “Do you need to help show people to their cabins? I don’t want to keep you from your guests.”

  “You’re a guest, too.”

  “I’m not paying nearly what they are.” Which was yet another reason to be grateful.

  “No, but you’re staying far longer, and you’re not going to require nearly as much hands-on time. Though for the record, you’re welcome to participate in any of the activities you’d like. We’ve always got a spare horse or three, and there’s something incredibly relaxing about a long ride in the great, big wide-open.”

  “We’ll see. I’m planning on spending most of my time in the valley.”

  “Of course. But please consider it an open invitation.” Krista touched her arm—like she wanted to do more but could tell Danny wasn’t a hugger. “Come on. Let me hand off Abby to her nana, and then I’ll show you to your valley.” She laughed. “Now that’s not something I get to say every day! See? I knew I was going to like having you around.” She danced off, humming a happy tune and exchanging a few words with each of the guests she passed, introducing herself and the baby, and welcoming the newcomers to her family’s world.

  Danny watched her, thinking, That. That was what she wanted—not all the people and the hustle-bustle of running a dude ranch, but that sense of loving life and doing exactly what she wanted to do. Too bad she didn’t know what, exactly, that was.

  Yet.