Sweet Mountain Rancher

by Loree Lough

  “They’re something, aren’t they?”

  “Yeah, they are.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “So what’s this I hear about a new Pinewood resident?”

  “Luke. He’s adorable. And too smart for his own good.”

  In his opinion, they were all too smart for their own good.

  “He isn’t shy,” Nate said. “I thought he’d talk my ear off when the guys introduced us.”

  “He’s high-functioning autistic, so you’ll notice a lot of stimming.”

  “Stimming. There’s a term that’s new to me.”

  “It’s short for self-stimulation. We all do it to one degree or another—cracking our knuckles, tapping our toes, drumming our fingertips—but in kids on the spectrum, it’s far more pronounced. They bob their heads or flap their hands, spin in circles, rock back and forth. Luke does it all to one degree or another, but hand-flapping seems to be his favorite stim.”

  “Well, from the way he talks, he sounds like a cool kid. I can’t wait to meet him.”

  “So what time is this surprise supposed to take place?”

  She sounded like the happy, upbeat woman he’d met back in May. Hearing her talk this way made Nate want to say “Come over right now!” so he could enjoy it before something happened to flip the switch. Again.

  “How’s three o’clock?”

  “That’s doable. I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Me, too,” he said, hoping he wouldn’t be sorry later.

  *

  WHEN NATE BUILT the sixteen-by-six table for his dining room, every Marshall had razzed him. Tonight, even Hank gave it the thumbs-up.

  “It’s big enough for three or four more,” she whispered with a mischievous wink and a nod toward Eden.

  “That’s about the craziest thing I’ve heard all day.”

  Hank feigned ignorance. “What do you mean, big brother?”

  “Just take me at my word because it’d take a month to explain why that’ll never happen.”

  “Tell you what. When I get back from Florida in a couple of weeks, I’ll set aside a month. We’ll sit down, just you and me.”

  “Florida?” their mother said. “Who’s going to Florida?”

  “I am, Mom. To Davie, for the Southeastern Circuit Finals at the Bergeron Rodeo Grounds. I told you about it, remember?”

  “Yes, but you know how I try to block unpleasantness from my mind.” She laughed. “Will you be back in time for Thanksgiving?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Maybe you could teach us how to…what’s it called again?” Wade said.

  “Barrel racing.”

  Hank had performed in Steamboat Springs in August, and when Nate found out none of the kids had ever seen a real live rodeo, he bought tickets and treated Eden and the boys. Eden would have nixed the six-hour round trip if he hadn’t suggested the boys could study the geometry of the barrel race figure eight. In the weeks since, it seemed the kids jumped on any excuse to talk about roping, riding and Hank. No doubt they appreciated her horsemanship, but not nearly as much as her cowgirl good looks. Nate tried to imagine Eden in four-tone boots, a fringed jacket and a pearl button Western shirt. Tried to imagine her roping Thomas Burke into tagging along on the trip from Pinewood to the Double M. He studied Thomas’s face, expecting to see anger, or at the very least, disdain. Instead, the kid seemed okay with the idea. So had he invited Burke? Or had Eden?

  “Stop gawking,” Hank warned out of the corner of her mouth, “or you’ll have to start that month of explaining right now.”

  Sure enough, half the people at the table had aimed watchful eyes his way.

  A basket of corn bread sat in front of Eden’s bowl, and Nate pretended not to see the other one within his reach. “Hey, Burke, how about passing that corn bread down here.”

  Nate’s dad, seated to his left, looked confused. “We have our own basket already,” he said, pointing. “And you already crumbled a slice into your chili.”

  “Oh. Right. So I did.”

  “You’re not old enough to be senile,” Zach teased. “I hear B vitamins help boost brainpower.”

  Nate was only too happy to be the butt of his cousin’s joke, since it covered up the fact that he’d been staring at Eden.

  “What do you call that thing,” Cody asked Hank, “where a rider leans a horse almost on its side while she’s going around the barrels?”

  “I’ve never attended a rodeo,” Luke said, “but I’ve watched documentaries and read books. That maneuver is called shouldering, and it’s something riders work hard to avoid. Ideally, they attempt to keep the animal’s shoulders and body straight up and down when they’re making turns around the barrel.”

  Cody looked at Hank, who said, “He’s right. Straight up is best, because the tilt could cause you to hit a barrel. And the judges deduct points for that.”

  “Has your horse ever been injured?” Luke wanted to know.

  “Only once or twice, and not seriously. A rider tends to take very good care of the animal that’s helping her earn fat purses.”

  “Hey, I have a question for you, Hank…”

  Now all eyes were on DeShawn. “What’s the deal with some horses getting all wigged out in the doorway at the rodeo?”

  “The alleyway,” she gently corrected. “It’s called balking, and it’s a bad habit some horses pick up. Mostly it isn’t their fault. They could be reacting to the crowd, or some inconsiderate fool’s litter rolling around on the ground. It could even be me, coming out so tensed up that the horse feels it in my leg muscles.”

  Chuckie, sitting directly across from Hank, flushed a bit when he said, “Did it take you l-long to l-learn all those tricks?”

  “I’m still learning,” she said. “If I ever get to the point where I think I know it all, I might as well hang up my saddle for good.”

  “Who taught you to ride?” Eden asked.

  Hank glanced around the table at aunts, uncles, cousins, her parents and Nate. The Double M foreman had joined them, along with Jim and Bob, the only two hands who weren’t out moving the cows up from the south fields. “I had a lot of good teachers,” she said, smiling.

  “Yeah, but it took some concerted effort,” the foreman said, “and a lot of teamwork to break this li’l filly of her bad habits.”

  “You’re fired, Carl,” she said, winking. Getting to her feet, she smacked Nate’s shoulder. “You’re slacking, big brother. Don’t we have one last job to do in the kitchen?”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s right.” He stood, too. “I need two volunteers.”

  Hank gathered chili bowls and spoons, and Burke signaled Thomas, who followed. It didn’t escape Nate’s notice that he was frowning less than usual.

  “You poke the candles into the cake,” Nate told the boy. While lighting them, he focused on Burke. “Can you grab that stack of paper plates and make sure everybody gets one?”

  Alone in the kitchen now, Nate gave credit to his family. They’d not only welcomed Eden’s boys with open arms, overlooking the occasional crude remark and inappropriate gesture, and now, they’d accepted Thomas’s father, no questions asked. Pride thumped in his chest. He’d do anything, anytime, for anyone at his table. His two rules did not apply to them.

  He carried the cake into the dining room and slid it in front of Eden. He didn’t know which glowed brighter, her dancing gray eyes or the flickering candle flames. She blushed prettily as the family sang a loud, off-key rendition of the birthday song, and when it ended, Hank handed her a knife.

  “Time to earn your supper, girlfriend,” she teased, plucking candles from the icing.

  “Where’d you buy this, Nate?” his aunt asked. “It’s delicious!”

  “Didn’t. Mom made it.”

  When the oohs ahhs died down, Eden said, “Thank you, Mrs. Marshall. I’m touched.”

  “Please. It’s Maeve. Mrs. Marshall was my mother-in-law, may she rest in peace.”

  The warm family scene stirred something
in Nate. Eden could be part of this, always—if he could just figure her out.

  “You know what would top this day off perfectly?” Everyone turned to Hank. “A moonlight ride around the pond.”

  “Aw, man, that sounds awesome!” Ben said. He looked at Eden. “I know it’s a school night and you wanted to hit the road by six, but if we promise not to goof off and get straight to bed, can we stay?”

  Nate expected her to say no. Surprisingly, she said, “Sounds like fun!”

  The boys cheered and the adults whistled.

  “Do you know how to ride, Dad?”

  It was the first time Nate had heard Thomas address Burke that way.

  “I’m no rodeo cowboy, but I can sit in a saddle.”

  “Why don’t you youngsters go have fun,” his aunt said.

  Nate’s mom agreed. “Don’t worry, this place will be shipshape long before you get back.”

  “I’ll stay and help them,” Zach said, pressing a kiss to Summer’s forehead. “Just in case somebody around here decides it’s time to add to the family this evening.”

  *

  HANK LED THE WAY, and Nate brought up the rear. Luke, Burke and Thomas were directly in front of him.

  “Are you having trouble staying balanced, Thomas?” Luke asked.

  “Yeah, a little. But pipe down, will ya, or the guys will give me the business.”

  Luke glanced up the line. “Oh, I doubt that. As you can see, they’re all far too busy concentrating on staying in the saddle themselves to pay any mind to you.”

  Nate chuckled as Thomas’s shoulders slumped, a clear indication he didn’t quite know what to make of the newest Pinewood resident.

  “I read a book once that explained the physics of balance, and I’m quite delighted to discover that the tactics actually work.”

  “Do you ever shut up?”

  “Yes, of course…when I’m sleeping. Although I can’t be certain that I don’t talk in my sleep. Perhaps you can enlighten me some morning.”

  “Yeah. Sure. Okay. Whatever.”

  Luke seemed unaffected by Thomas’s attitude. “It’s important that when riders mount, they take the time to position themselves properly in the saddle before urging the animal forward. Take note of the way I’m sitting. Tall but relaxed, with no sway in my lower back. Both buttocks should meet the saddle with equal pressure. Imagine a line drawn from your ear to your elbow to your hip and ankle.”

  “You’re my father,” Thomas said to Burke. “Can’t you save me from that?”

  Burke laughed. “At least let him finish. I’m learning a lot!”

  Luke continued. “Improper balance makes it difficult for some riders to follow their horses’ motion. They use their legs, instead, to hold on. Or they grab the reins tightly. This can be dangerous, particularly when the rider attempts a turn.”

  “Luke, can I ask you a question?”

  “Certainly, Thomas. Feel free to ask me anything.”

  “How long have you been talking like a college professor?”

  “You know, I’m not sure. All my life, I imagine.” He glanced over at his new friend. “Why do you ask?”

  Burke cleared his throat loudly, and again Thomas’s shoulders slumped.

  “Just wondering, that’s all.”

  “What’s that noise?” Carlos asked.

  “Just a cricket or somethin’,” DeShawn said.

  “Well, it’s creepy.”

  “So are all those shadows in the woods.” Nick cringed.

  “And that creaky noise the trees make every time the wind blows.” Ben did his best to emulate the sound, then gave an exaggerated shiver.

  A nighthawk chirruped in the pines to their right. To the left, the throaty hoot of a great horned owl. The boys, typically talkative and inquisitive, grew quiet, and even Luke seemed content to scan the horizon, lulled by the steady thump of horses’ hooves on the frosty loam. The only things missing, Nate thought, were guitars and the harmonizing voices of cowboys singing “Home on the Range.”

  “Hey, Nate,” Ben called out. “I think my saddle cinch is loose. It feels like I’m sliding sideways.”

  He rode forward, slowing when Patches came up alongside the big gentle roan. It seemed fine to him, but they’d been riding awhile, so he signaled the group to halt. They dismounted and stood, holding tight to their horses’ reins and turning left and right in response to every buzz and thud around them.

  Eden joined them, watching as Nate snugged up the cinch.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked as he patted the roan’s rump.

  “Yeah, but they’re looking a mite rough around the edges,” he began. “What say we turn back instead of riding the whole way around the pond?”

  “I say that’s a winning idea,” Hank agreed. “I need to get home and pack for Florida.”

  Suddenly, the calm was shattered by an ear-piercing shriek. The terrified trumpeting of a horse. A boy’s screams and a man’s shouts, all in the space of a heartbeat.

  Nate ran full-out toward the melee, and when he reached the back of the line, what he saw made the breath freeze in his throat: the cougar, trampled by Burke’s horse, lay motionless in a quickly spreading pool of blood.

  Thomas pressed close to Nate’s left side. Luke did the same on his right.

  “Is it…is it dead?”

  “Yeah, Thomas, it is.”

  And from the look of things, so was his dad.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  THE WAITING ROOM at Porter Adventist hummed with the low murmurs of what nurses had labeled That Marshall Bunch.

  When the 911 operator heard “cougar attack,” she’d radioed for a medevac copter. While waiting for it to arrive, Hank pointed out that the helicopter would spook the horses, and volunteered to lead the boys back to the barn. Eden stayed behind to be with Thomas, who refused to leave his father’s side.

  “He’s breathing! I feel a pulse!” He repeated it so many times that at some point, it changed from a hopeful pronouncement to monotone acceptance.

  After they wheeled Burke into the surgical suite, Thomas had leaned against the waiting room wall, chin up and back ramrod straight. In the three hours since, he’d slid to a seated position, hugging his knees, his face hidden in the crook of one elbow. And there beside him, with an arm across his shoulders, sat Luke.

  Zach had met them at the ER, and now, he and Nate walked out to the hall and slouched into two of six chairs lined up near the door.

  “I don’t get it,” Zach said. “What would make the cat come out into the open that way, with so many horses and riders around?”

  Nate drove a hand through his hair. It didn’t make any sense to him, either. Unless…

  “Her kittens must have been close to the trail. Burke and Thomas were the last two riders, and when I got back there, Burke’s horse was snorting and stomping, partway into the woods.”

  “His horse stomped the cat?”

  Nate nodded. “Only thing I could get out of Thomas was that Burke put himself between the cat and the boys.”

  “If he survives this, we need to buy him a saddle. Build him a house. Give him a car.”

  “And a job.” Nate got up and peered through the window in the waiting room door. “Look at him, calm as can be. Hasn’t shed a tear, either.”

  A nurse approached. “Mr. Marshall?”

  “Yes?” the cousins said together.

  She smiled up at them. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up that the police are on the way to interview Mr. Burke’s son.”

  “You mean, they’re in the lobby?”

  She met Zach’s eyes. “No, not yet. They were just dispatched, but they’ll be here soon.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “I know because my boyfriend is the dispatcher. I’ve seen how these accident interviews go. I’m sure the officers mean well, but they don’t always take time for gentle diplomacy. So when I can, I like to give the families advance warning.”

  The cousins thanked her, and once she we
nt about her business, Nate turned back to Zach. “The kid is doing his best to hide it, but he’s already traumatized enough. If I can get some information out of him before the cops get here, maybe they won’t need to talk with him at all.”

  Zach nodded toward Eden.

  “You need me to run interference? Distract her while you take Thomas aside?”

  “Nah.” But he remembered all too well her reaction to his bumbling advice. This could go sideways, fast, and he knew it. He opened the door and hesitated in the opening. “But if she goes for my throat…”

  Zach grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Hank gets Patches.”

  As an afterthought, Nate walked up to the soda machine and bought two bottles of water. After handing one to Eden, he gave Luke two twenty-dollar bills. “Do me a favor, kiddo, and tell the guys they should go down to the cafeteria, grab a bite to eat. We’ll meet you later.”

  Luke took the money and started rounding up his housemates.

  Nate placed a hand on Eden’s shoulder. “Maybe you should go with them. I’ll stay with Thomas.”

  He thought she’d tell him to take a hike. To his surprise, she held up her cell phone. “Call me if there’s any news?”

  “You know I will.”

  Eden patted the hand resting on her shoulder, saying without words that she trusted him. He studied her face. Would she change her mind? He hoped not because he wouldn’t hesitate to tell her that right now, this kid was priority one.

  “Can I bring you anything?”

  He held up his water bottle. “I’m good. But thanks.”

  She hugged Thomas and left them alone, and once she was gone, Nate sat on the floor next to him.

  “Drink this,” he said, giving Thomas the second bottle. “They won’t let you in to see your dad if you pass out from dehydration.”

  Thomas unscrewed his bottle and nearly downed it in one gulp.

  “Thanks,” he said, scrambling to his feet. “I’m goin’ crazy just sitting here, waiting. Can we go for a walk or something?”