For a few moments the only sound was the rasp of the file as Lee moved onto the last of Rowdy’s hooves, the sound of John clipping, the scree of a hawk flying overhead and the occasional nicker from the horses already tied up. It was a peaceful moment, serene almost in spite of the monotonous work.
“So, where does the lovely Miss Newton go after the roundup?”
“Probably back to Seattle.”
“Too bad. Sure you couldn’t talk her into staying?” John ribbed. “Maybe coming to the wedding?” Lee ignored him once again, trying instead to focus on his work. Trying not to wonder if Abby would stop by here after she talked to his parents.
Then Rowdy lifted his head and nickered, looking toward the house.
Lee couldn’t glance up right then, a bead of sweat dripping down his face and into his eyes as he finished the last of the rasping.
Then he heard the click and whir of a camera and he guessed Abby had come by here before going to the house. He also wondered how many pictures of him would be in this magazine article. But as he looked in her direction, he noticed she had her camera pointed to John, who was still wearing his cowboy hat, shirtsleeves rolled up, head bent over the hoof he was trimming. Clyde’s head was twisted around, as if presenting his best side to Abby and the camera.
And why did the fact that she was taking John’s picture make him feel jealous?
Then Abby turned to him and, as if sensing his moment of envy, snapped a few photos of him, as well.
“Hey, you,” he said as he finished up, lifting Rowdy’s hoof of the trimming block and setting it back on the ground. “Mom and Dad are in the house, if you’re looking for them.”
Abby lowered her camera and gave him a cautious smile. It was as if she wasn’t sure what his reaction to her would be.
Trouble was, he wasn’t sure himself. He felt as if what they had talked about yesterday had created a shift in the relationship, and he wasn’t sure which direction he was allowed to go.
“I saw you guys working here and thought I’d get some shots before talking to your parents. Ranchers at work and all that.” She looked away from him, down at her camera, checking her photos. “How’s the calf?”
“Doing well. You want to go check on him?”
“Um, well, I’d like to, but your parents—”
“Can wait,” John put in, straightening and arching his back. “You’ve got a stake in that critter, may as well see how he’s doing.”
Lee shot the other man a warning glance, but John just grinned, moved to Clyde’s other hoof, picked it up and clamped it down between his legs.
“I guess I could have a look...” Abby said.
“I just have to put Rowdy in the pen and we can go.”
“Does the calf need to be fed? I wouldn’t mind getting a few shots of that.”
“I fed him early this morning, but it wouldn’t hurt to give him another feed.”
Abby’s grin was open and carefree, and Lee felt a thrum of anticipation as he led Rowdy back into the pen. He took the halter off, coiled it up, walked back to where Abby was waiting then latched the gate. “Let’s go, then,” he said, angling his head toward the barn.
Abby followed him as he strode to the room off the calving barn.
“So, you’re feeding him colostrum, right?” she asked as he grabbed a pail and a bag of powder from the cupboard.
“That’s correct,” he said, impressed that she’d been paying attention the other day. “It’s full of antibodies and all the good stuff that they need to get a good start.” He began to mix the powder into the warm water. “This isn’t as good as the real thing calves normally get from their mother, but it’s better than straight milk, which is what he’ll be getting after this feed until we can wean him.”
Lee poured the warm mixture into a bottle and snapped the nipple on.
“No tube today?”
He shook his head as he led the way back to the pen. “No. That was a onetime emergency procedure. He’s drinking fine now. It will be bottle feeds until we can get him to drink straight out of a pail.”
The calf was on its stomach in the pen, legs curled under him, head to one side, just the way a healthy calf should be lying. Lee was about to go into the pen when he turned to Abby and held out the bottle. “So...you want to do the honors?”
Abby shook her head and held up her camera. “No, thanks. I was hoping to get some more pictures.”
“I can take some of you,” he offered. “Would make the article more interesting. Give it that personal touch.”
Abby glanced from him to the calf, looking uncertain.
“Just put your camera on the green square,” Lee said. “I’ll take it from there.”
Abby laughed. “How do you know about the automatic setting?”
“I took a few photography classes in prison,” he said. “Some good person who liked to volunteer would come and show us how to use a camera.”
Abby’s gaze jerked away as silence fell like the clang of a prison door. Lee fought a surge of frustration. He really had to learn to keep that part of his life to himself.
“So, what kind of camera did you use? In your prison classes?” Abby asked as she pulled her own camera out of her ever-present backpack. “Canon? Nikon? Leica?”
“A black camera,” Lee said with an attempt at levity to ease the tension between them. “With a lens.”
“That narrows it down,” Abby said with a grin, obviously willing to go along. “Anyway, if you’re going with automatic, the flash will probably go off. That will flatten everything, so I’ll set it up, let it go to autofocus and you should be okay.”
“And how do you want me to frame the shot?”
“Wow. I am in the presence of a photography genius,” Abby returned with another playful grin.
Lee felt the tension gripping him since his prison comment slowly dissipate. “I’m a renaissance man. I also know how to bake bread.”
“Most impressive,” Abby said. “With such a wide array of talents, I’m surprised you don’t have your own blog.”
“Lee Bannister dot com,” he joked, moving his hand as if underlining a marquee. “Slogan, ‘Sponsor him because he kneads the dough.’”
Abby’s laugh was like a burst of sunshine, her sparkling eyes kindling a glimmer of hope.
And, even more, an attraction that grew with each meeting. An attraction he wasn’t sure what to do about anymore.
Chapter Eight
“Are they usually this strong?” Abby asked as the calf sucked eagerly at the bottle, its mouth wrapped tightly around the nipple. She had to hang on to the bottle with both hands to keep it from getting pulled out.
“Yeah. And it gets worse when they get older and bigger and start to bunt. That’s why we move to feeding them out of a pail as soon as possible.”
Abby stole a quick glance over her shoulder at Lee, but the camera hid his face. “You can stop taking pictures now,” she said with a nervous laugh. “You must have enough.” She wasn’t accustomed to being on this side of the lens, and it made her feel vulnerable.
Especially because it was Lee taking her photo. After the confessions of yesterday, she felt as if much had been reshaped between her and Lee. Last night she had stared at a watermark in the ceiling for what seemed like hours, going over what they had talked about. Knowing that he had wanted to take her out, that he was distraught that she had spurned him before that fateful party, had given her a different perspective on Lee.
A perspective that bothered and thrilled her at the same time.
“Easy to be bossy from your side of the camera,” Lee muttered, seeming to ignore her as he fired off a few more shots.
“Seriously, Lee, you’ve got enough,” she said, turning her attention back to the calf, who was still tugging for all it was worth at the bottle. A few more sucks and it was empty. Abby pulled it out of the calf’s mouth, but it was a momentary tug of war. Finally he released it.
“You might want to step back,” L
ee cautioned as he fired off a few more shots.
“Why?”
The calf shook its head, remnant drops of milk flying, jumped back, then began bucking its legs going every which way.
Alarmed, Abby retreated to a corner of the pen. “What’s going on?”
“People usually like to sit after a warm meal, whereas calves seem to get all lively and frisky. Trouble is, they’re not aware of anyone or anything else and you could get kicked.” Lee had joined Abby in the corner, watching the calf hopping around the pen.
“Can I see what you got?” she asked, itching to get her hands on the camera.
“Sure.” Lee unhooked it and was about to give it to her when the calf let out a bellow and raced across the pen.
Directly toward them.
“Watch out,” Lee shouted, grabbing Abby by the arm and pulling her back. Unprepared, Abby was thrown off balance. The bottle flew out of her hands and she stumbled. Her ankle, still tender, gave way and she fell against Lee.
Still holding the camera, Lee pulled her steady with his free arm, but as he took a step back, he caught his legs on a bale of hay behind him and together they collapsed in a tangled heap to the straw-covered floor.
The calf stopped just short of them, turned its head to one side as if examining them, then raced off to the other side of the pen.
Lee was laughing and Abby couldn’t help laughing herself as she tried to extricate herself from Lee’s arms. But her one arm was trapped under him and he was trying to roll over, yet his leg had twisted under him somehow.
“Your camera. Sorry,” he managed as he moved to one side, still grasping the camera. He set it aside in the straw as he attempted to get up.
“It’ll be fine,” she said, trying to get up, as well. “It’s had worse falls.”
But her arm was still pinned under him and his legs were still up on the bale. They struggled, laughed some more and then Lee was up on one elbow, looking down at her. Her one hand was on his shoulder to steady herself. She could feel the warmth of his skin through the material. Their eyes met, the moment lengthened and Abby couldn’t look away. She could see the golden flecks in his deep brown eyes and the thick fringe of lashes framing them.
Then to her surprise, Lee reached up and brushed her hair away from her face. As yesterday’s, it was the lightest of touches, but it created a quiver of anticipation and a more troubling yearning.
Her breath was caught in her throat as she veered between the need to move and the desire to have time stop right here.
“Abby,” Lee whispered.
She lifted her free hand and rested it on his cheek, the faint stubble rough under her hand. She stroked his face with her thumb, slowly, drawing the moment out, yet knowing she should leave.
Just stay for a while. You deserve this moment with him.
The voice from her past eased into the now, and her more practical self knew she should stop this.
But the loneliness that had dogged her for so many years kept her hand in place, kept her looking up at him as if the sight and touch of him could fill that emptiness deep in her soul.
And then, as if it was the only way to end to this moment, Lee lowered his head and his lips touched hers. Gently at first. Then more firmly.
Abby wrapped her hand around his neck, returning his kiss, her heart singing, all the sorrows of the past few years erased by this one moment with Lee.
He was the first to pull away and Abby protested lightly. But he stayed where he was, tracing her features with his finger. He released a slow smile, which didn’t help her heart rate but made her smile in return. Then he laid his forehead against hers, his face becoming a blur. “So, Abby Newton, now what?”
His question was like a chill breeze, tugging at her fantasy.
She slowly released her hold on him and gingerly eased away. “I don’t know,” she said, sitting up, pulling her legs toward her and wrapping her arms around them as if protecting herself.
Lee shoved his hand through his hair as he pulled himself up to sit beside her, leaning back against the pen. He picked up her camera and toyed idly with it, as if to buy some time.
“Neither do I,” he admitted. “I just know you’ve been taking up a lot of space in my brain lately. And last night, I kept thinking about what you told me.” He folded the strap of her camera over, then uncreased it and folded it the other way. “Thinking about what Mitch and David said to you.” He then looked over at her, concern etched on his handsome features. “Do you believe me when I tell you that they were lying?”
Abby held his gaze, heard the worry in his deep voice and nodded. “Yes, I believe you.”
Old emotions and memories superimposed themselves over the present and Abby felt, once again, the rush of attraction Lee could always create in her. Except now she felt a change. He wasn’t simply the guy she had a crush on. He was the man who had changed her life.
But he paid for that.
Yes, he had, but his shadow still lay over her life.
Forgive as the Lord forgave you.
Abby lowered her head to her knees, trying to still the competing thoughts. In spite of the accident, even in spite of what David and Mitch had told her, a part of her heart had always been reserved for Lee. And it was that part reasoning with her now. Telling her that all she had wanted was right here. Finally within reach.
“I’m sorry,” he said huskily. “I know it’s always the wrong thing to say after a guy kisses a girl, but I feel like I stepped over the line.”
Abby lifted her head and looked directly at him, holding his gaze, looking for an answer to her dilemma.
His dark eyes were anguished and his expression made her want to reach out and touch him. Reassure him.
“You didn’t step over any line that I laid down,” she whispered. Then, fearing she would do something more foolish, she took her camera from him, got up and left.
* * *
Lee tapped the last nail into Tia’s hoof, lowered it to the ground. As he stretched the kink out of his back, he looked back toward the house. Abby was still inside, speaking with his parents.
“Obviously they’ve got lots to talk about,” John said, catching the direction of Lee’s gaze.
“One hundred and fifty years of ranching,” Lee muttered, picking up Tia’s hoof again, grabbing the clench and bending over the nails he had just put in.
John was in the corrals when he and Abby had come out of the barn. Good thing that Heather’s fiancé was one of those quiet, discreet types, because Lee was sure he had to have noticed something.
He set the hoof on the hoof stand, then rasped and filed the ends of the nails sticking out of the hooves, half his attention on his work, the other half on the ranch house where Abby’s car was still parked.
She had been there as long as he’d been working on the horses, which was about an hour now.
“So, that’s the last of it,” Lee said, taking Tia’s hoof off the stand. “All horses are shoed and ready for Tuesday.”
“Can’t believe it’s here already,” John remarked. “Feel like we’ve been getting ready for months for all this.”
“Keira and Tanner sure made everyone busy having the wedding the same week as the anniversary.” Lee was surprised Heather and John had decided not to make it a double wedding with Keira and Tanner, but Heather had said she’d already had the big splash with her first wedding to Mitch. She wanted a smaller, quieter ceremony later and she didn’t want to take anything away from her sister’s big day.
“Figured it was the best way to get you here,” John replied with a grin, dropping his rasp into the box he’d been using. “Besides, some of the people coming for the anniversary will be here for the wedding too. All the relatives anyway.”
Though Monty was an only child, his father, like Lee, had grown up with two sisters, both of whom had moved away from Saddlebank. One great-aunt was still single, too outspoken to get married, she always said. The other had moved to Missoula, wed a dentist and had
four children, all of them now married, as well. The rest of the relatives were great-uncles and aunts, most of whom Lee hadn’t seen in years and barely knew. And they would all be descending on the ranch, en mass, come Tuesday.
Lee led Tia back into the pasture, shooting another glance over his shoulder at the house. He came back to the corrals, tugged his gloves off and stuffed them in his back pocket. He was sweaty and hot and needed to wash up.
“Coming to the house?” John asked, closing the gate behind him.
“In a bit. I want to check on the calf first.”
“He’s fine.” John gave him a sly grin. “Thought you might be eager to go and see Miss Newton again. What with you two rolling in the straw just an hour or so ago.”
Lee shot him an incensed glance. “What are you talking about?”
John walked over and plucked a few wisps of straw off Lee’s head. “Well, looky here, if these don’t exactly match the ones I just saw in Miss Newton’s hair,” he drawled.
“We were feeding the calf. He got frisky.”
“Calf’s not the only one that got frisky,” John said, adding a broad wink.
Lee felt a flush creep up his neck.
“Hey, I don’t blame you,” the other man continued. “As I mentioned before, she’s a beautiful woman. And from what I see, she seems to think you’re fairly easy on the eyes, as well. At least, the way she looks at you I’m guessing she does.”
Lee pulled in a long breath, realizing he could hide nothing from his future brother-in-law. “You know who she is and our history.”
“Yeah. I do.”
“It can’t happen. The situation is complicated.”
“That’s what I thought about me and Heather,” John said. “I had Adana to think about. A wife I was supposed to be mourning. Heather was divorced from an abusive man. I thought it was too messy. Too complicated. But we fell in love and love seems to find its own way through the complications.”
Lee heard the sincerity in John’s voice and wanted to believe it.
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