The Rancher's City Girl

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The Rancher's City Girl Page 12

by Patricia Johns


  Eloise considered slipping away to leave Cory to his thoughts, but she paused, her eyes lingering on the tall cowboy. They’d gotten closer over the past few days, and whether he’d wanted her to or not, she’d witnessed some of his toughest moments with his father. It wasn’t his relationship with his dad that was nagging her, though—it was the old woman who knew a bit too much about her personal life. Eloise had a sense that perhaps she’d misplaced her trust, and while she once would have done anything to avoid confrontation, she was older and wiser now. Besides, she couldn’t be certain of Cory’s betrayal until she heard his side of it. She stood undecided for several moments; then before she could regret her decision, she opened the door and stepped outside.

  Cory turned.

  “Hi,” she said quietly.

  “That was an interesting Sunday, huh?” He gave her a wry smile.

  “You could say that.” She tucked a stray curl back into the loose bun at the back of her head.

  “I’m really sorry,” he said again, turning back to face the sunny lawn. “I probably should have left well enough alone with my dad.”

  “You had a conversation with your father—one that was long overdue, I think. You have nothing to apologize for. I wanted to ask you about something else.”

  “Oh?” Cory turned to face her again.

  “That woman who was talking to me in the service—she said she’d heard about my situation.”

  “What situation?” He frowned.

  “My divorce. She’d heard that my husband left me.”

  Color drained from Cory’s face. “How?”

  “She didn’t say, but—” Eloise sighed. “You’re the only one I told, Cory, and I told you as a friend. I didn’t think you’d gossip about it.”

  “I didn’t!” He sighed. “Wait—”

  The hesitance in his tone gave her pause, and her stomach sank. She didn’t know what explanation she was hoping for, but she wanted it to prove him innocent of talking to someone about her most personal failure. Eloise attempted to hide her misgiving and raised an eyebrow.

  “Look, I was talking to Zack, and it came up.”

  Came up? All the hope she had for a marvelous explanation seeped out of her, leaving behind a bedrock of disappointment. A curl tickled her forehead and she batted it back.

  “How?” she asked after a moment. “I don’t get how my personal life became a topic of discussion with your partner.”

  Color rose in Cory’s face and he rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Zack was suggesting that you and I could—” he shrugged faintly “—be something more. You know him and Nora, always trying to set me up. I told him that I didn’t think it would work.”

  “Because my husband left me,” she concluded. He nodded, and she sighed. He was right that it wouldn’t work. She was nowhere near being able to trust a man again. If Philip could dupe her so completely, she’d have to be stupid to hand her heart over to someone else.

  Cory nodded. “I’m sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut. It was wrong of me.”

  “So that’s how places this size work, huh?” Eloise attempted a tight smile. “Say one thing and it spreads like wildfire?”

  Cory shook his head. “Pretty much. You breathe a word and someone else breathes a word and before you know it—”

  “Strange women are accosting me in church?”

  He shrugged apologetically. “It won’t happen again. I feel terrible. Can you forgive me?”

  “I suppose so,” she said with a faint smile. “You’re turning out to be a pretty decent friend.”

  Cory reached across the railing to put his warm hand over hers. “Thanks.”

  Eloise turned her hand over in his gentle grip and squeezed his in return. She might not be ready for romance yet—she might not ever—but she could certainly appreciate a solid friend in her life right now. All she wanted was to lie low and lick her wounds for a while longer.

  “It’s this place.” Eloise looked over the lawn, and the grazing horses beyond. “There is no way to just blend into a wall, is there?”

  “Not really. There are good things about a small, tight-knit community, though.” He released her hand, and she reluctantly pulled it back. “But privacy isn’t one of them.” Cory gave her a wry smile. “And if it makes you feel any better, that whole conversation I had with my father in front of the church will probably be repeated verbatim to everyone I know within hours.”

  Eloise smiled. Deep down, in a small petty part of her, it did make her feel a little better, but she wouldn’t admit to that.

  “Are you sure you don’t want that privacy?” she asked instead.

  “I have people who care. That counts for more. Besides, if I want privacy, I can get on a horse and ride.”

  “It makes a cold, faceless city a whole lot more appealing right now,” she said.

  “Is my dad okay?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “He’s asleep.”

  Cory sighed and leaned back against the rail, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I hadn’t realized how much he resented me.”

  A soft breeze lifted Eloise’s curls away from her face, bringing with it the scent of lilacs. “That wasn’t the truth. Not all of it.” She shook her head. “Your father threw around a few facts and some opinions. The truth is always broader and deeper than that.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  Eloise shrugged. “Call it a gut instinct. He came out here because he wanted to know you, too.”

  “It’s okay, Eloise. I don’t need to have a warm and fuzzy moment with my dad.”

  “And you might not get one,” she replied frankly. “But you also don’t have to accept a five-minute argument as the whole truth about a very complicated situation.”

  She met his gaze and he squinted back at her. His dark hair shifted in the breeze, and for a moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer. Then a smile toyed at one side of his mouth.

  “You are strangely wise, Eloise.”

  She chuckled. “I have time to think, too.”

  Cory turned back toward the yard. Mr. Bessler had hurt him more than the old man would ever know. Her patient irritated her sometimes with his crustiness, too, but her expectations were much lower. Eloise sighed.

  “He’s not a great father, I’ll give you that. And only Ruth knows what kind of husband he made. He’s cantankerous, opinionated and stubborn. But he’s also an excellent friend.”

  “I guess that’s good for his friends,” Cory replied. “You weren’t related to him.”

  “Maybe you could try to get to know him on a different level. He’s not going to meet expectations as a father, but there is good in him.”

  “Why do you defend him?” Cory asked.

  “Because somebody has to,” she replied. “He’s not all bad, and I’ve learned to really like him. He’s facing his own mortality, and that’s not easy for anyone. I think he could use a little grace.”

  “Fair enough.” Cory nodded.

  A gray cat sauntered across the lawn, tail in the air, drawing Eloise’s gaze along with it. The feline slipped off into a ditch.

  “So, what about you, then?” Cory asked.

  “What about me?”

  “What about your parents?”

  “My dad and I are pretty close. My mom died when I was fourteen in a car accident, so after that it was just the two of us.”

  “Is he still alive?”

  “He’s in Billings,” she said. “He runs a small used bookstore. It’s his retirement project.”

  Cory smiled wistfully. “It sounds nice. Do you talk to him often?”

  Eloise nodded. “I give him a call every couple of days. Normally he’s sorting books, and he stops to chat. When I lived in Billings, I used to drop by the store an
d take him out for a coffee. He’d close up shop and we’d go to the corner coffee joint and just talk for a while. I miss him.”

  “Now, that’s a good father,” Cory said soberly.

  “We never get the perfect lot in life,” Eloise replied. “I had a great father who adored me, but I lost my mom when I needed her most. We all just do our best with what we’ve got.”

  “I suppose so.”

  Eloise’s gaze swung from the horse barn and up the dusty road until the copse hid the rest from sight.

  “Look, I know I didn’t have it as badly as you did—” she began.

  “Don’t worry about it. I survived.” His warm eyes moved slowly over her face. He stepped closer, his dark eyes pulling her in. A stray curl fluttered in her vision. Cory caught it and wrapped the tendril slowly around his finger. A smile tugged at his lips as he tucked the curl gently behind her ear. She tipped her head back to meet his gaze, and as he looked down into her face, his eyes filled with tenderness.

  Is he about to—

  She dared not finish the thought, but he leaned closer, and the intensity of the moment tugged her in.

  From inside the house, Robert’s thin voice called out, “Red?” Cory paused, pressed his lips together. He pulled back.

  “Well.” He pushed himself away and cleared his throat. “I’ve got to go check on the horses.”

  “Okay.” Her voice sounded breathless, even in her own ears.

  Cory grabbed his hat from the railing and dropped it on his head with the resoluteness of a man leaving for a month. Then he glanced back at her. “I’ll be in the horse barn. Why don’t you bring my dad over?”

  Eloise nodded, trying to calm the patter of her heart. “Sure.”

  “And wear some boots. Nora left some for you in the mudroom. I want to show you the alternative to that cold, private city. I think you’ll like it.”

  Without a backward glance, Cory trotted down the stairs and strode across the lawn. Eloise leaned against a post and rubbed a hand over her eyes.

  “You’re here for Robert,” she reminded herself. “Don’t forget that.”

  * * *

  The horse barn was a long building, lined with horse stalls, now mostly empty. Dust motes danced through a ray of sunlight slanting through a window by the saddles and tack. Burnished leather shone in warm tones, and rows of bridles hung limply along another wall. The scent of horses and fresh hay wafted through the length of the building, following a cross breeze. A couple of ranch hands had already finished mucking out the place, and Cory stood next to his horse. She was a strawberry roan Arabian with a small head and delicate feet. At fifteen, she was middle-aged and calm. The silence was broken only by the swishing of Lexie’s tail and the drone of a fly bouncing off a windowpane.

  “Lord, I’m such an idiot,” Cory muttered, sliding the currycomb over Lexie’s flank. She stamped her hoof in pleasure. “Give me some self-control here, Father. I’m running low.”

  Or maybe his father’s call for his nurse had been providential. He’d almost kissed Eloise on the porch, and he could only hope she hadn’t noticed. Kissing her wasn’t part of the plan, but if it hadn’t been for the old man’s interruption, he wouldn’t have stopped himself. He saw something in her—something more than the city girl—and he wanted to show her what a ranch could offer.

  “She’s no cowgirl, Lexie,” he said quietly. The horse swung her head back, nuzzled his arm, then went back to her oats. Lexie probably understood him better than any woman ever had.

  “You get that, don’t you?” he asked.

  The horse’s muscles shivered as the coarse bristles moved over her coat. Lexie turned her head to look at him again, her big eyes regarding him with the soulful compassion only a horse can manage.

  “Yeah, you get it.” He chuckled, and moved around to her other side to continue grooming. “You’re a good listener, old girl.”

  She nickered in response.

  “Now, I want you to be polite, Lexie. She’s a new rider, and she doesn’t know her boot from her backside. So you be nice, okay?”

  Lexie put her nose into her oats again and Cory shrugged. Lexie was his first choice when letting kids ride. She was intuitive and gentle, and he had no doubt she’d ease Eloise into the riding experience admirably, but he tried to dampen his hopes with a cold dose of reality. A canter through a field didn’t make a cowgirl.

  After saddling Lexie, Cory led her out into the yard next to Winner, the black stallion he planned to ride, who stood sedately, saddled and ready to go. Winner was less accommodating and more willful, but he needed the riding time to curb some of his bad habits, and there was no time like the present to give him some much-needed practice.

  “Heading out for a ride?” Zack called, ambling up to the fence.

  “I thought I’d take Eloise around the paddock on Lexie.”

  Zack grinned. “Winner’s been testy today. He tried to bite Nora when she brought him hay this morning.”

  Cory chuckled. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  “So, where’s Eloise?” Zack asked.

  Cory jutted his chin in the direction of the house. Eloise was already on her way down the drive, pushing his father’s chair. Her cheerful voice filtered toward them as she chatted with the old man, her words blending in with the wind.

  “Did you mention Eloise’s situation to anyone, Zack?” Cory asked.

  “I told Nora about it.”

  Cory nodded.

  “Why?” Zack inquired.

  “Never mind.” The damage was already done. Cory couldn’t blame his friends for his own lack of discretion. “I was just going to take Eloise around the paddock where Robert could watch us, but if you’ll be around for a bit, maybe you could hang out with my father while I take her out for a decent ride. What do you say?”

  Zack shrugged and grinned. “Sure.”

  “Thanks.” Cory pointedly ignored his friend’s mirth and waved to Eloise as she approached. “Go through the barn!” he called to her. She waved back and adjusted her course.

  “You know, I thought Nora was all wrong for me, too,” Zack commented.

  “Yeah, and you were dead wrong.” Cory chuckled.

  “You could be, too, you know.”

  “Dead or wrong?” Cory joked.

  Zack shot him a mildly amused look. “Laugh it up, man, but when you’ve tasted married life, there’s no going back.”

  “I’m blissfully ignorant of everything I’m missing,” Cory retorted.

  Zack laughed and patted Lexie’s rump on his way by. “Have it your way, but a girl like her doesn’t come along every day.”

  Don’t I know it! Cory thought. He took the horses by their reins and led them toward the barn door, arriving just as Eloise and his father did. Eloise took a step back in alarm.

  “Don’t worry,” Cory said. “They’re gentle.”

  “Scared of a horse?” his father teased.

  Color rose in Eloise’s cheeks. “Can I pet them?” she asked.

  “This is Lexie.” Cory led the smaller horse forward. “You can pet her nose and get to know her a little bit.”

  Eloise reached forward tentatively, and Lexie met her halfway, accepting a stroke along her muzzle. A smile sparkled in Eloise’s eyes.

  “Well, aren’t you pretty?” she murmured.

  “That’s a nice stallion you’ve got there,” his father said, nodding at Winner.

  “Yeah, he’s a good horse, but he needs more time.”

  “He’s a biter, isn’t he?” the old man asked.

  “How’d you know?”

  “Just a suspicion. He’s got that look in his eye.” He eyed the horse warily. “Soldier was just like him. Stubborn and angry, that beast.”

  “A complicated relationship,”
Cory said, and the old man laughed, meeting Cory’s gaze with a humored look.

  “We were both old cranks. We got along fine.”

  “I don’t imagine you’d be able to ride?” Cory asked.

  His father shook his head. “I’ll watch. It’ll do. You’ll have your hands full with that one.”

  Cory wasn’t sure if the old man was referring to Winner or Eloise, and he chose not to clarify.

  “We won’t be too long,” Cory said, and when his father gave him a silent nod, he caught Eloise’s eye. “You ready?”

  “For what, exactly?”

  “Back in Haggerston, you said all you needed was a good teacher.” He shot her a grin. “Well, you’ve got one.”

  “You want to teach me to ride?”

  “You want to learn?”

  “Oh, go on,” his father said. “You’ll like it.”

  Eloise glanced up at Cory, her eyes sparkling in excitement. “All right. How do I do this?”

  Cory handed Winner’s reins to Zack and led Lexie to a mounting box beside the fence. Eloise walked beside him, hot summer wind blowing through her thick curls.

  Cory caught her hand in his and smirked at the surprise in her widened eyes. “Okay, so you’re going to put your foot in this stirrup here and get a hold of the saddle horn.”

  Eloise stepped onto the mounting block and lifted her leg up, but the reach wasn’t an easy one, even for an experienced rider.

  “You’re pretty small,” Cory noted, catching her around the waist as she got her boot into position. “Ready?”

  She reached toward the back of the saddle—a common first instinct.

  “It might look harder, but grab the horn—the front—of the saddle.” Eloise reached for the horn and Cory lifted her slight weight upward as she stretched.

  “Swing that leg over,” he commanded, and Eloise landed on Lexie’s back with a gasp of surprise. “See?” Cory swung the reins over Lexie’s ears and placed them in her hands. “Easy as pie.”

  “What do I do?” she asked breathlessly.

 

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