by Jenna Mindel
Dale looked hesitant.
Faith laughed as she moved to the next stall. “Don’t worry. It’s easy.”
“If you say so.” He was tall enough to lean over and dump the grain.
Her mare, Viv, spotted Dale and whinnied. Faith laughed again. “I think she has a crush on you.”
“To be lowered to the level of animal appreciation.”
“You’ve got it all wrong there.” She dumped the last of her grain and returned to fill it. “Animals know more about people than people.”
Dale refilled his bucket, too. “So you think.”
“So I know. Viv doesn’t take to just anyone. She’s a rescue and whoever had her first didn’t treat her kindly. There’s something mighty gentle in you for her to want your attention.”
Dale stopped scooping grain and looked at her, horrified, as if she’d uncovered his big secret. “Gentle, huh? I don’t think my father would agree. I’ve made some pretty brutal deals in my day.”
Faith frowned. “Don’t tell me you’re a cutthroat.”
“I don’t take overinflated values well.”
“Yours or theirs?” Faith wondered if he had an ethical base he worked from. Dale might believe there was a God, but he didn’t strike her as man of faith. He’d pretty much admitted to spending holidays with non-family members of the female persuasion.
“Both. Repeat business demands a level of honest negotiation and fair pricing. But I won’t be taken in, and I don’t have a problem cutting loose dead weight in the office.”
She smiled. Viv might be on to something. Underneath the stuffy clothes and sophistication, Dale Massey might be a good man. Strong and confident, he did what needed to be done.
When they finished with the grain, Faith showed Dale the water pump, and they gave each horse a fresh water bucket. Outside, Faith cracked away the ice that had formed on the water trough in the paddock and then plugged in the deicer to keep the water from freezing.
“That’s it for now. Want to see Julie’s sheep?”
Dale shrugged. “Sure.”
“They’re sweet things.”
“Why do you have sheep? I thought sheep and cattle don’t mix.”
Faith smiled, amazed that he knew that much. Although anyone who’d ever watched a nature special on TV probably knew that much. Both animals graze, competing for the same grass.
“Exactly right. But Julie’s been raising them since she was a kid in 4-H. My dad gave her some pastureland and she’s made quite a business for herself. She sells the wool and knitted creations online. Katie, Cord’s wife, plans to sell some in town when she opens Jasper Gulch’s first-ever boutique.”
“A good tourist-shopping draw. Locally made goods.”
Faith nodded. “If we ever get the tourists here.”
*
Dale slipped into the crowded sheep barn behind Faith to the sound of feminine laughter and the bleating of sheep. Two large, hairy white dogs slept like sentinels by the door. Despite the windows, the day was dark and gray even with the snow. The women had a couple of lanterns burning.
Nadine and Katie and the young girl named Marci fawned over a lamb that followed Julie around like a dog. Another dog followed her, too, along with Nadine’s poodle. Both dogs barked, but the larger one nosed the small white lamb back toward the pen.
“That’s Cowboy Dan.” Faith pointed.
The dog heard his name and came bounding for them. Tail wagging furiously, the long-haired spotted thing’s tongue hung from his mouth. Cowboy Dan sat down in front of him.
Dale looked at Faith. “What does he want?”
She giggled. “For you to pet him.”
He did his best not to make a face. Then he remembered the work gloves. Slipping them back on, he patted the dog’s head.
“He won’t bite you.” Julie smiled.
“I’m not much of an animal guy.”
Julie and Nadine exchanged looks. Animals were their livelihood.
The little lamb wandered near him, too. Or maybe it was Cowboy Dan who’d herded the creature his way.
“I don’t know, Viv sure likes you.” Faith scratched under the chin of one of the bigger sheep in a pen. “And now Cowboy Dan, and even the little lamb there.”
Dale looked around. “There’s a lot of sheep in here.”
“With the icy rain, I didn’t want them to get wet then cold. Their wool hasn’t filled out from their fall shearing.” Julie puttered around the barn, tossing hay and a different kind of grain into troughs.
It smelled earthy in here, too. Thick like molasses. And a bit dusty from the hay.
“Dad wanted me to check on you, and see if you need help.” Faith still scratched the sheep that looked blissful with its eyes closed.
“We’re done here.” Nadine brushed her hands against her jeans. “Might as well get dinner started.”
Dale watched the women file out of the smaller barn and followed. Julie remained behind.
Making their way back to the main house through the fat snowflakes, Dale considered the simplicity of life here. It was not easy by any means, but it was not the hustle and bustle of what he was used to. And certainly not the cold indifference.
Shedding his coat and boots, he stepped into the large living room with the roaring fire and women’s chatter. This warm and woodsy atmosphere was light-years away from his modern co-op with the stark-metal-and-gray-leather furniture. Nothing like his mother’s overly decorated condo and even his father’s posh penthouse. Shaw Ranch had a welcoming feel to it. A pull on him he didn’t want to examine. He didn’t belong here.
Surrounded by the finest all his life, maybe he’d missed something basic. Being part of a close-knit family might be part of that, but there was something else. He wasn’t sure what it was, but maybe stuck out here, he’d find it. Or better yet, he’d realize this wasn’t real and lasting, either, at least not for him.
Chapter Eight
“Morning.” Faith skipped into the dining room.
Although the temperatures had dipped low overnight, glorious early-morning sun peeked through the dark clouds and streamed through the windows, turning the snow outside into a carpet of sparkly white cotton. The ice had become a coating of crystal.
Her parents and two brothers were already seated, their plates full of eggs. Dale was there, too. Their eyes met and held.
Faith’s appetite fled, replaced by a swishy feeling. Those butterflies were acting up again, making her light-headed. She looked away. Noticed the shared smiles between her parents and kicked herself for mooning over Dale in front of them. Going after Dale Massey was a delicate operation. She didn’t need her parents’ obvious matchmaking efforts getting in her way.
“We’re checking the fences this morning. The wind kicked up overnight and there might be drifts.” Adam poured a glass of juice. “Dad’s going to attempt to plow the driveway.”
“Sounds good.” Faith filled her plate. Plowing the wet, heavy snow from their private road and driveway before it froze into a solid mass would take her father a good portion of the morning. And Dale had said he wanted to work, so keeping her voice even and nonchalant, she asked, “Dale, would you like to go with me?”
“Sure.”
Austin nodded his way. “We could use the help. Cord and Ryan are evidently sleeping in. Do you ride?”
“I do. Or rather, I have. I belonged to a polo pony club while studying in England. But it’s been a while.”
“I see.” Austin raised his eyebrows at Faith.
She ignored it and sat next to Adam, putting her directly across from Dale. “I don’t know who could sleep with all this sunshine.”
“They’re newlyweds,” her mom said with a wink.
Faith felt her cheeks heat. “Oh, yeah.”
“You ever been married, Dale?” Adam asked.
Faith kicked him under the table. What kind of a question was that?
“Ow.”
“Uh, no.” Dale sipped his coffee with a look o
f utter distaste. Marriage wasn’t the plague. But then, his parents were divorced.
“Can’t say I’d ever want to. Makes a man soft.” Adam leaned back in his chair. “Look at Ryan and Cord lazing about.”
“As if you’d find someone who’d have you.” Austin knocked his brother’s shoulder.
“Marriage strengthens a man.” Her father took her mother’s hand and they shared a look. Something deep and filled with understanding passed between them. “With the right woman, it makes him a better person.”
“Thank you, Jackson.” Her mom smiled. They’d been under a lot of stress these last few months consumed with centennial preparations. Then she leaned forward and kissed him quick.
Faith wanted to slip under the table.
Her brothers made sounds of illness.
Jackson gave Dale a nod. “Might be just what you need.”
Dale’s green eyes widened.
Her heart skipped a beat or two and her stomach turned over. Nope, not obvious. Not at all.
“Thank you, sir, but I’m fine as I am.” Dale’s expression was closed. Humorless.
Austin gave her a look of sympathy and rose from the table. “We’ll see you out there.”
And Faith could have hugged him when that diverted their father’s attention. They left, and silence thick as molasses settled in the room.
“I’ll head for the kitchen.” Faith’s mom took the tray of dirty dishes and left. Between her volunteer work and time spent on various Jasper Gulch committees and boards, Nadine Shaw’s time was usually filled. On weekends, she liked to putter around her kitchen.
“Sandy’s not here,” Faith said to cut the silence. “But then, today’s Sunday and she has the weekends off anyway.”
Dale nodded. He didn’t care about their housekeeper’s schedule. He looked like he didn’t care about much.
She took a bite of eggs and could barely swallow. Faith pushed her plate away and sipped coffee instead.
“You’d better eat.”
Faith’s eyes widened. “Well, Mr. Skip-Breakfast, you’re calling the kettle black.”
“What’s that mean anyway?” He gave her a smirky grin.
“I don’t know, but you’re the one who doesn’t eat in the morning.”
“I did today. A whole plateful. It was delicious.”
“Good for you.” Her positive mood had vanished with her father’s meddling. And why did Dale keep looking at her?
“No word on the power?”
Faith shrugged. “With this cold snap, that ice isn’t going to melt. Bad news for the linemen and us. It’ll take longer, I’m sure.”
With her father’s decree to conserve energy, they’d switched off breakers in the basement, closed up heating vents to unused rooms and closed the doors. It was chilly inside this morning, but they’d be outside most of the day. In the cold.
Might as well get to it.
Faith wolfed down a couple of more bites and then thoroughly looked Dale over. “You’re going to want some fleece-lined jeans today. And more layers under that barn coat. Adam’s got a pair. I’ll fetch them for you.”
He nodded, looking unperturbed. “I’ll get ready, then.”
When she met Dale in the hallway, he’d slipped on a fancy gray turtleneck sweater under the green flannel. Made his green eyes really pop. She’d found him a warm hat and lined leather gloves and thick wool socks, too. “Here.”
“Thank you.”
“Meet you downstairs.”
Slipping into the coat, Dale stepped into view wearing the lined jeans, his boots and barn coat. He looked ready for outside work. Was he?
That cultured voice of his made her rethink the invitation. He didn’t like getting his hands dirty. And what if something went wrong? What then?
“You sure you’re okay with this?” She thrust her woolen-covered feet into thick rubber-soled boots that skimmed her knees.
“I can’t sit around and wait for the electricity to come back on. I’d climb the walls.”
Faith nodded. “Okay, then, let’s go.”
They entered the barn. The stalls were empty except for Viv and H.R.—a gentle giant of a gelding her father intended for Dale. The rest of the horses were in the paddock, no doubt enjoying the cold sunshine and fresh hay. “Ever saddle up before?”
“No.”
“That pony club did all that for you?”
Those vibrant green eyes hardened. “Yes.”
“Well, here’s your first lesson.” Faith disappeared into the tack room and came back out with a couple of blankets. “We’ll saddle up your mount first. Viv gets impatient if she has to wait.”
Dale chuckled. “I know how she feels.”
Faith decided to cut Dale some slack. A businessman stuck on a ranch with no way to conduct his business had to feel cranky. She’d seen Dale’s ironclad control crack and give way to plain old irritation. She didn’t mind. It made him human.
Still, it was Sunday. A day of rest. Although, not for ranchers. Power outage aside, Dale could probably use a few hours away from laptops and cell phones and sales reports. It was up to her to make sure he didn’t regret this fence-checking jaunt.
She showed Dale how to clip a lead rope from the wall to the gelding’s harness so he’d stand still while they saddled up. When Faith came out of the tack room with the saddle, Dale’s eyes widened.
“Give me that.” He reached for the heavy leather Western-style saddle. “It’s bigger than you.”
Faith let him take it, knowing she’d bruised his pride earlier with her crack about the pony club. “Okay, place it on the blanket.”
He gave her a sardonic look. He wasn’t an idiot.
“Pull the cinch strap tight.” Faith watched, and then shook her head. “A little tighter.”
“Seriously?”
Faith took over. Going shoulder to belly with the horse, she pulled the strap higher and H.R. groaned.
“Aren’t you hurting him?” Dale stood close behind her.
Faith chuckled as she anchored the leather strap in place. “He’s a sweetie but bloats his belly on purpose, hoping to be left behind to eat more hay. You’ve got to gently remind them who’s the boss.”
“I see.” He made no move to step back. “What’s next?”
Faith looked up, feeling her breath catch at how close they stood. “The reins.”
“Show me how to do that.”
Faith licked her lips. Did he really want to know or was he humoring her to pass the time? She softly elbowed him in the ribs. “Give me some room here.”
He backed up.
She felt his gaze on her as she grabbed the reins from the door of the gelding’s stall. The air seemed tight and charged and it sure wasn’t compliments of the dead power lines trying to come back to life. Dale Massey burned holes through her.
Faith cleared her throat and looked up at him. “What?”
He cocked an eyebrow.
“You’re, like, staring.”
He chuckled. “I’m watching to learn.”
Learn what, though, that was the question. She was pretty sure Dale wouldn’t be doing this again, any time soon.
“Getting them to open their mouths is something of a dance. Rubbing the bit against their teeth usually works.” She maneuvered her arm underneath H.R.’s jaw and slipped the bit into the gelding’s mouth. “There’s a good boy. Then loop the top over his ears, like so.”
“Got it.”
She smiled. “Good. Now, mount up and I’ll make sure the stirrups are long enough for you.”
Faith watched Dale swing into the saddle with easy grace. “Not bad.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
“You got on well. That’s a good start.” She handed him the reins.
He looked way too good sitting in a saddle. Faith had trouble dragging her gaze away from his rough, unshaven face. Dale Massey sort of resembled the portrait of his great-great-grandfather, Silas. And Faith had always thought Silas a han
dsome fellow.
“Sit tight while I saddle up Viv.” She’d unhook the gelding once they were ready to go. She didn’t want Dale taking off when she wasn’t ready.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Dale scratched behind the gelding’s ears.
If only that were really true. Faith sighed. As soon as the power came back on, Dale might be gone. He’d been nothing but honest with her, sharing his code of flirting ethics and warning her that he didn’t do serious. Dale sounded like a real player and yet, he seemed more like a man afraid to feel too much. And that made her wonder why. It also made her want to set him free.
Some wild things can’t be tamed.
But Dale wasn’t wild. He was the most guarded, controlled man she’d ever met. And honest. Scott had lied to her from the start, making her believe he truly cared when he hadn’t.
And here she was again, chasing after love the way she’d chased butterflies as a little girl. She’d never used a net as a kid. Faith hadn’t wanted to crush them by accident. After many failed attempts, she’d finally caught a beauty with her bare hands. Gently, she’d let that monarch walk her fingers right up her arm until it flew away. She’d never have experienced that special connection had she given up.
Might Dale be her monarch?
If so, she’d have to tread softly, and hope in the end that he didn’t fly away.
*
Dale followed close behind Faith as she led the way through deep packed snow. His horse was a gentle fellow and picked his way gingerly through the packed snow. “What’s his name?”
“H.R.”
“H.R.?” What kind of name was that for a horse?
“Short for Home Run.” Faith turned in her saddle to look at him. “He came with the name. My father bought him from Mick McGuire after his wife died. She had a soft spot for H.R. and I think the memories were too much for Mick.”
“Memories have a way of doing that.” Dale couldn’t believe he’d said that.
Faith gave him a curious look. “I suppose they do.”
No way was he going inside that opened door. “Why didn’t you stay in Seattle?”
Her eyes widened and then she shrugged. “I wasn’t interested in selling my soul for a permanent seat in the strings section.”