It didn’t matter. Her presence was an unexpected answer to a prayer he hadn’t even dared to utter. It was nothing short of a miracle.
He held out his hand for Tia’s rope. Wordlessly she gave it to him, and their gazes locked, neither able to look away. Mark rubbed Nate’s horse, Spanky, with one hand, smiling up at her.
“Miss your bus?” he asked, his voice quiet.
Sheryl nodded. “Crystal and Marla managed to make me feel guilty for not spending any time with them, and since the next bus isn’t leaving until Tuesday afternoon, they conned me into taking them on the pack trip.”
“Good girls.” Tia pranced away from him and Mark tugged on her halter rope. “And you returned my horses.”
“I thought I’d ride Spanky here to get a feel of him, and when I saw the horses coming down the road, I figured they weren’t supposed to be there.”
Mark took refuge in humor. “Wow. Smart and good-looking.”
A smile teased the corner of her mouth, but she seemed to ignore his comment. “Elise is bringing the girls and their horses right away. I hope it’s okay they come. Nate thought they’d get in the way, but I promised to look out for them.”
“I’m glad they’re coming,” he replied, leading her horse to the hitching rail. The entire congregation of Sweet Creek church could come along, if they had anything to do with her being here. “But I’m even happier that you’re here.”
Sheryl bit her lip and then dismounted, fiddling with Spanky’s cinch. “So what can I do?”
Mark tied up Tia next to Spanky and leaned back against the rail, watching her. “Why don’t you tell me?”
She looked him squarely in the eye as if challenging him. “Throw the diamond hitch.”
“Now I’m really impressed,” he said, a heaviness inexplicably falling off his shoulders. Ed was the only one who could throw a faultless diamond hitch that caught all the parts of the pack and held them with an even snugness on the pack horse. He hadn’t managed to teach Nate, so packing up the horses invariably fell totally on Mark’s shoulders.
“Well that’s easy to do to some people,” she joked, loosening the latigo on Spanky’s saddle.
Mark pushed himself away from the rail and stopped directly in front of Sheryl, taking a chance and tipping her chin up.
“I’m really glad you came, Sheryl.”
She only shrugged in answer, keeping her eyes down.
Mark let his glance idle over her hair as the sun danced off it. It was tied up again in her now-familiar braid.
She was beautiful and she was here. For now that was enough.
Chapter 9
“Here, I’ll help you with that.”
Rick, Mark’s older brother, stopped and helped Sheryl heave the tarp over the packed horse.
“I can’t believe you know how to do this stuff,” he said as he straightened it.
“I’m a little rusty, but it’s coming back.” Sheryl smiled at him. Mark’s family accepted her sudden appearance with an equanimity that still surprised her.
“Are you hassling the help, Rick?” Mark poked his head over the horse’s rump, handing Sheryl a rope.
“Don’t be getting greedy, Mark. You’ve got at least thirty-five years of escapades to share.”
Mark slanted him a warning glance, and with a laugh Rick sauntered off, whistling.
“Don’t I just love my family,” he sighed, handing Sheryl the lash cinch to which the forty-foot rope was tied. “Do you want me to help you?”
“It’ll go faster.” Sheryl answered.
They fell into the same easy rhythm they shared baling hay. Sheryl felt an accord that she didn’t want to analyze.
She murmured softly to the horse as he danced around, and he settled down.
“Are you this good with cows?” Mark asked as she tied the final half hitches under the pack and they moved on to the next horse.
“Cows used to petrify me.” Sheryl laughed. “Nate always got mad at me when a cow charged and I’d run the other way. Then he’d be stuck with a bawling calf and a protective mother.” Sheryl laughed, setting the pack pad high up on the horse’s withers and sliding it down.
“Nate tends to overreact,” Mark responded. He bent over and handed her an extra pad. “Use this on F5. He’s a bit high withered as well as high-strung.”
They finished packing up the horses and together helped the others finish saddling, checking stirrups, adjusting cinches. Sheryl was amazed at Mark’s patience, how easily he worked with the horses, not against them.
By early afternoon the horses were packed and everyone mounted up and ready to go. Mark walked down the line checking ropes, adjusting bridles.
Sheryl handed Brad the lead rope for one of the pack horses, Roany. “Don’t tie this to the saddle horn,” she warned as he took the rope. “If you meet up with a bear you’ll have a rodeo you don’t want to be in the middle of. Better to let Roany fend for himself rather than get tangled up in ropes and hooves.”
“That makes sense.” Brad mounted his horse. “Mark just hands me the rope, lowers his eyebrows and growls ‘tie that rope to your saddle and you’re wolf bait’ so I don’t ask why.”
“I’m sorry,” Sheryl apologized. “I didn’t mean to preach.”
“No problem. I’d sooner listen to you than Mark’s yowling anyhow,” Brad said loudly, as Mark drew nearer.
“Unlike yours, my yowling makes sense,” Mark answered dryly, running a quick eye over Brad’s saddle horse. “Make sure you check your cinch ten minutes after you’ve been riding.”
Brad’s only response was a salute which made Sheryl smile.
Mark turned to her, the soft breeze lifting his long hair away from his face, a smile curving his well-shaped mouth.
“Ready to go, partner? I’ve got you leading F5. He seems quieter around you.”
Mark’s voice took on a teasing tone, then his rough finger brushed a few wisps of hair out of her face, further confusing her.
Sheryl glanced at him, trying to gauge his mood. He smiled crookedly, his head tilted to one side. He let his fingers trail down her cheek, and his expression became serious.
A sixth sense warned her of his intention, and she silently pleaded with him not to. Then his head blotted out the sun and he brushed his lips lightly over hers. He straightened, winking at her, as if challenging her.
“Lets get the show on the road,” he said quietly. He turned and ambled down the line of horses to Toby, his own mount, leaving Sheryl, her emotions in a turmoil.
Somehow Sheryl found her way back to Spanky, Nate’s horse, ignoring Elise’s approving smile. She untied F5’s lead rope and mounted up, her cheeks burning.
She managed a quick wave at Lenore who had elected to stay behind with Benjamin.
“Have fun,” Lenore called out as the line moved past her, out of the yard. “See you in a few days.”
Sheryl drew in a steadying breath, wondering what she had gotten herself into, wondering what the next few days would bring.
The horses had been climbing for about twenty minutes, the trail winding through the dusky coolness of the towering fir trees. In the light-strewn openings in the foliage, Sheryl caught glimpses of the hay fields that lay below them, dotted with small stukes of hay.
Now and again she saw Mark at the head of the column. He rode easily, moving with his horse, the hand holding the pack horse’s rope resting on his thigh. She let herself watch him, let herself wonder about him. She couldn’t imagine that he hadn’t been swamped by other girls. He was the kind of man her fellow waitresses would fantasize about during coffee breaks. If Tory could see her now, she would think her crazy for not taking advantage of the situation.
As if you had a chance, she chided herself.
He did kiss you, the other insidious voice reminded her.
“Hi, there.” Elise fell back and drew abreast of Sheryl. “Isn’t the weather great?”
Sheryl welcomed the intrusion into her thoughts and turned to Elise. �
��Have you done this trip in the rain?”
“Oh, yes. That’s when we really depend on Mark’s even temperament” Elise paused, as if waiting. “He’s such a great guy,” she added hopefully.
Sheryl recognized her underlying purpose and decided to humor Elise a little.
“So how long has Mark lived out here?”
Elise brightened at Sheryl’s question, and Sheryl stifled a chuckle. They were good people, but they couldn’t get away from their straightforward heritage, so different from her stepfather and brother’s.
“Mark moved out here about seven years ago, the same year Nate and I got married, and bought out the Simpson place a year later.” Elise sighed, looked ahead, as if making sure no one else was listening and drew her horse a little closer to Sheryl’s. “He bought the place for Tanya but she wouldn’t move from Vancouver. Guess she could get engaged to a manager of a successful real estate office, but couldn’t marry a rancher.”
Sheryl straightened as she absorbed this hitherto unknown piece of information.
“Did she ever come out here?” Sheryl couldn’t stop herself from asking. She had a sudden inexplicable need to fill in the spaces in Mark’s own past.
“She tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn’t listen. He bought the ranch, and she came out once in a while, but we could see it was coming apart a little more each time she visited. When he had to make a choice, he chose the ranch.”
“How did the girl take it?”
Elise sighed, biting her lip. “Badly. Mark was considered quite a catch. She finally offered to live here for half a year at a time, but Mark didn’t want that. He is pretty even tempered but when it comes to the ranch, he is pretty definite.”
Sheryl looked past the other riders to the trail that wound upward through the silent trees, remembering semitrailers, airplanes and the constant smell of exhaust. How could anyone choose that over this?
“So he’s been unattached since then,” Elise added hopefully. She settled back with a smile, moving easily with the rhythm of her horse. “There have been a number of girls who imagined themselves in love with Mark, but none of them have the temperament to live out here on their own, and Mark knows that.”
Sheryl only nodded, which was all the encouragement Elise seemed to need.
“He seems to enjoy being with you, though.”
“And what am I supposed to say about that, Elise?” Sheryl laughed, unable to feel uncomfortable around Elise’s straightforward manners.
“You could get coy and accuse me of kidding you, meanwhile hoping that I’ll reassure you, or you could freeze me out with a ‘you’re exaggerating’ and since you did neither, I’m going to say it again.” Elise tossed Sheryl a sideways glance, suddenly serious. “I haven’t seen him this interested in anyone in a long time.”
Sheryl decided to change the line of questioning. “Did you send the girls into my cabin or was it their own idea?”
Elise pursed her lips, tilting her head to one side, eyes glinting with amusement. “It was a group project.”
Sheryl stifled a groan. The way the Andrews family operated everyone was in on the plan except her and Mark, of that she was sure. His surprise this morning was genuine.
“But that wasn’t the only thing we had on our mind when we cooked up this scheme.” Elise continued. “I guess we wanted you to spend some time with us as a family, to spend some time up in the mountains. Mark says you love them so much, and Nate has told me enough about how you used to spend hours riding up here.”
Sheryl returned Elise’s now-serious look with a smile. “You are really an interesting family,” she said.
“I’m glad you feel that way,” said Elise as if Sheryl had just bestowed the ultimate compliment.
They rode on in companionable silence, Sheryl enjoying the ease she shared with Elise and literally soaking in the smells and sounds of riding up the mountain trails. It had been years since she’d been on the back of a horse. The creak of the saddle, the jingle of reins, the soft sounds of hooves falling on packed ground as they worked their way up the hills brought back good memories.
The trail, guarded by fir and pine trees, angled upward now, and would continue until they crested the first range. From what Sheryl remembered they would be at the upper pastures and the first camp by late afternoon.
She shifted in the saddle, turning back occasionally to check her pack horse, who plodded along expending the minimum amount of energy required.
A sigh lifted her shoulders as she looked around, the sun warm on her neck and back, the occasional shade welcome.
Elise stayed close, and now and then Sheryl made a comment on the landscape, pointing out birds and some of the different plants.
“You love this country, don’t you?” Elise asked finally.
Sheryl nodded. “I spent a lot of time up in these hills. My poor mom didn’t get much help from me in the house. Nate always said he pitied the man who married me.”
Elise was quiet, then turned to her. “You never really got along with Nate, did you?”
Sheryl felt as if it was her chance to spill out the injustice of what had happened. For eight years all her anger and frustration and guilt had been directed at Nate and Ed. It waited, stewing, and now she was given a chance to tell her side.
But Elise was married to Nate, and Sheryl didn’t know if it was fair to push on the foundations of what Nate had built here, just to satisfy her own anger.
Sheryl shook her head. “Please don’t ask me about that.”
But Elise wouldn’t quit. “Sheryl, he’s my husband and I love him, but I also know he’s not perfect.” Elise bit her lip, nodding. “I guess it would help me understand him a little more if you could tell me your side of the story.” Sheryl tightened her hands on the reins, trying to balance her own memories with the changes that she had seen in Ed and even in Nate.
Sheryl looked ahead of them, at the long, drawn-out line of riders and pack horses as they meandered down the hill to a dried-out creek bed. It was almost symbolic of this family. A dependence, a caring, and Nate had a part in all of this.
“Please,” Elise encouraged. “I think it’s sad and wrong that you’ve been away from them so long without a word.”
Sheryl cleared her throat and began. “It was difficult when we first moved to the farm.” Her voice trailed off as she tried to catch the right memory. “But once I got over losing my dad, I realized that it could be a lot of fun. Nate and I had to work with each other a lot, and I didn’t mind the first few years. But there was always work to do on the land, and my mom didn’t help out much. She was busy enough running the house, but I think Nate resented that.” “Nate always said that Ed was a perfectionist...” Elise let the sentence hang as if encouraging Sheryl.
Sheryl felt tempted to leave it there, but somehow Elise’s raised eyebrows and tilted head seemed to draw her out. She sighed, then said, “I don’t think there were many things either Nate or I did that met with his approval. But Nate kept trying. I didn’t. And that was when the trouble began.”
“I guess Nate kept at it because he always knew he would get the ranch someday.”
“And that’s why I resented all the work after a while,” Sheryl added quietly. “As a stepdaughter, I figured there was nothing in it for me.”
Elise nodded in understanding, and Sheryl experienced the same feeling of relief she’d felt with Mark. And again she felt as if part of the burden she had been carrying had shifted a little, felt a little lighter.
“How did Jason come into the picture?”
“Through my own stubbornness.”
“How did that happen?”
Sheryl shrugged. “I was talking to him once, and Ed found out,” she continued. “He warned me away from this evil boy and I, of course, ran in the opposite direction.” She fell silent, remembering how dangerously exciting it was at first to be with Jason, the thrill of defying Ed, but she also remembered her mother’s anguished look each morning after she slipp
ed in late.
“How old were you when you started going with him?”
“About sixteen. We went out for about two years, until I graduated from high school, then Jason and I eloped.
“When did your other die?”
The unexpected question was spoken in gentle tones, but the words cut and hurt. Sheryl thinned her lips, looked ahead and shut off her memories.
“I’m sorry, Elise, I don’t want to talk anymore.”
“No,” Elise said quietly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry and dig.” She reached over, and squeezed Sheryl’s hand. “I’m glad you came and I’m glad you’re here and I won’t ask any more questions—” she lifted her eyebrows as if she didn’t quite believe the statement herself “—if I can keep my mouth shut that long.”
In spite of the momentary tension, Sheryl smiled. Elise was uncomplicated and easy to be with. But the pain she felt at Elise’s question showed her that she was better off to keep her thoughts to herself.
Mark dismounted, looking over his shoulder gauging the hours until sunset. Glancing around the site, he noted with approval the firm hitching rails and clear camping area. He hadn’t had the time to supervise Rob, and he’d sent him up here right after the haying was done. He’d done a good job.
Mark tied up his mount and pack horse, easing the cinch on his saddle for now.
“I’ll get you something to eat in a bit, Toby.” He stroked his horse’s nose, stepping back as the animal tried to rub the side of his head against him. “Just settle down, now,” he warned with a smile. He walked around to his pack horse, loosening the rope, keeping a lookout for Sheryl.
One by one riders pulled in, laughing, chattering. Horses shook and blew, riders dismounted, stretching, groaning.
“Watch that horse, Jennifer,” Mark called out to his niece as she dismounted. “He’s a little too interested in the ground for my liking.”
Her father, Allen, looked up and jogged over. “Whoa, you mongrel.” He caught him by the bridle. “Don’t you go rolling over on my best riding saddle.” He held the horse a moment while his daughter dismounted, then tied him up.
Homecoming (Sweet Hearts of Sweet Creek Book 1) Page 13