“I want to come back home. I want to come back to you and my family. And Holly. West Falls is where my heart is...and I can run my gallery from anywhere.” Even in the pulsing heartbeat of her hometown. “Oh, and Tate, I can teach art to the kids in the congregation. Weekly classes held at Main Street Church. Can’t you just picture it?”
Tate grinned wide and it looked like his heart was filled to overflowing.
She laid her head on his chest, seeking the soft place to fall that only he could provide. He wrapped his large arms around her, surrounding her with a cocoon of love. In the past few months her life had come full circle. She’d found love again with the only man she’d truly ever loved. And by some miracle this love was stronger, wiser, more grounded. It had been built on a foundation of forgiveness. Her heart had stretched out bigger and wider than she’d ever dreamt possible. Because of him.
Love. Security. Home. A soft place to fall. It was all right here in West Falls with Tate.
Epilogue
Horseshoe Bend Ranch
Cassidy increased her speed to a gallop as she rode in on Fiddlesticks, reaching the stables a hairsbreadth behind Tate, who was riding a white Arabian horse his father had just acquired. She lovingly patted Fiddlesticks, reaching into her shirt pocket for a bag of sliced apples. For weeks now she’d been riding her a few times a week, so much so that she was starting to develop a real attachment to the gentle horse. Even Tate referred to the onyx Arabian as “her horse.”
One month ago she’d set up a small gallery on Main Street. She’d decided to run her Phoenix gallery from here in West Falls with the help of her assistant. Her mother’s continued good health was the biggest blessing of all. From this point forward she would have to be vigilant about checkups in the event of a recurrence. Although she wouldn’t be out of the woods until she was cancer-free for five years, the doctors were optimistic about her prognosis.
Tate had quickly dismounted and was now standing next to Fiddlesticks, ready to help Cassidy dismount. She freed her feet from the stirrups and swung her leg over Fiddlesticks’s rump. Tate held his hands up and caught her in his arms, gently depositing her back on solid ground. Malachi came out of nowhere and took the reins of the horses. With a sly grin in Tate’s direction, he led the horses into the stables.
“Malachi is really going to have to stop bending your ear so much, Tate. It’s getting to be a real problem,” Cassidy quipped. In the past four months she’d only heard Malachi utter a few words at the most. He continued to be an enigma.
“He’s the strong silent type,” Tate said with a grin. “And as trustworthy as they come.”
When she rounded the corner of the stables she stopped in her tracks, taken aback by the sight that greeted her. A picturesque table lit with lanterns had been set up for two. Roses were laid out on the table, along with scattered chocolates and crystal flutes. Joy filled her heart as she realized that Tate had arranged this romantic surprise for her. She whirled around to face Tate, who was sporting a devilish grin.
“When did you do this? Tate, it’s so romantic,” she gushed, her hand pressed against her heart.
“I had a little help from Malachi. He helped set this up while we were riding,” Tate admitted. “C’mon and sit down.”
Tate led Cassidy to the table, pulling out the seat for her. She looked around curiously, wondering if the food was nearby. She was actually starving after riding for so long. Tate continued to stand there gazing at her instead of joining her at the table. He opened his mouth a couple times, then closed it. He took off his cowboy hat and raked his hand through his chocolate-brown hair. Two seconds later he was fiddling with his collar and readjusting his cowboy hat.
“Tate, is everything all right?” She didn’t know what was going on with him. Was he trying to break some bad news or something?
A huge grin took over his face. He seemed to relax. “All right? Yes, I’m all right. More than all right, actually. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. That’s because of you, Cass.”
“We both know we’ve been down this road before,” he continued. “Difference is, we’re older and wiser now. We know what it feels like to not have your other half. We know what it’s like to love someone, yet not be able to be with that person. We know what it’s like to have regret.” He swatted away the tears rolling down his face. “I’ve learned a lot over the past few years. I think I’m a better man. I’m stronger in my faith now. I know that when times get tough I need to lean on the Lord. And more than anything I know what I want for the future.” He took a big shuddering breath. “I want you, Cassidy. I want to love you and be loved by you. I want to wake up every morning with you by my side, knowing that no matter what else happens we have each other.”
Tate reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue velvet box. He flipped the box open, revealing the antique engagement ring that had been in his family for generations. It sparkled and winked at her, reminding her of the past yet hinting of a glorious future that awaited her. He got down on one knee and took off his cowboy hat, pressing it against his chest as he held the ring up to her.
In a voice husky with emotion, he asked, “Cassidy, will you marry me? Will you be my partner, my soul mate, my other half...for the rest of our lives?”
Tears of joy spilled down her cheeks and she walked toward him, ending up falling to her knees beside him. She wanted to be looking into his sky-blue eyes when she gave him her answer.
“Yes, I’ll marry you, Tate.” She gazed into his eyes, seeing her love for him reflected there. At that very moment she kissed him, her lips moving over his in a triumphant, sublime kiss that celebrated everything they’d been through that had brought them to this moment. He brushed his lips over hers, his kiss filled with the promise of forever.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Rancher’s Refuge by Linda Goodnight
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed visiting West Falls, Texas, and the love story of Cassidy and Tate. I love reunion romances set in small, cozy towns. There’s something comforting to me about two people who share a love that withstands the test of time. Cassidy Blake carries around a great deal of guilt and shame due to the accident. She yearns to make amends to all the people who were affected by her actions, particularly Holly and Tate. Throughout her journey toward redemption she turns to God for comfort and strength.
Being part of the Love Inspired family is a dream come true. I can’t think of a better job than writing happy endings and working in my pajamas.
Thank you for reading Reunited with the Sheriff. I’d love to hear from you. I can be reached at [email protected]. Please visit my website, bellecalhoune.com, to find out about future projects and giveaways.
Warm wishes,
Belle Calhoune
Questions for Discussion
Can you understand why Cassidy has avoided coming back home for eight long years? Have you ever avoided a situation and then been forced to confront it?
Cassidy’s motivation for coming home is her mother’s illness. Have you ever been faced with caring for a loved one during a serious illness? How did you deal with it?
Tate is pretty hard on Cassidy when he first sees her at the diner. Do you think his actions are justified? Why or why not?
Do you think Tate has mixed reasons for being angry at Cassidy? What are some of the reasons? In what ways is his anger holding him back from moving forward?
Cassidy’s goal is to make amends for all the harm she caused eight years ago, particularly to Holly and Tate. Do you think her goal is realistic? Have you ever sought redemption?
When Cassidy attends the church bazaar she is treated poorly by some of the townsfolk. Are their actions understandable? What would you do if you witnessed someone being treated th
is way?
Why do you think Tate turns away from Cassidy at the church bazaar? What emotions is he struggling with in this scene?
Holly’s injuries in the accident were shattering and permanent, yet she seems to have reached a state of grace where she can forgive Cassidy. What strengths does Holly draw on in order to forgive Cassidy? Do you think you could forgive if you were in Holly’s position?
Both Cassidy and Holly had moments after the accident where they felt that God had forsaken them. Have you ever been in a place where you felt that God turned His back on you? Have you ever experienced a time when you were angry with God? If so, how did you work through it?
Returning Tate’s engagement ring is a very emotional experience for both Cassidy and Tate. What does the ring represent for each of them? Was giving the ring back the right thing to do? Why or why not?
Maggie Lynch is still furious at Cassidy due to the accident that left her daughter paralyzed. Do you think her actions are in keeping with what the Bible teaches us about forgiveness?
When the storm damages Main Street Church the congregation bands together for the purpose of restoring the roof and steeple. In your life have there been instances where your church community banded together for a cause? How do you feel this strengthens a congregation?
Do the four roses bear equal responsibility for the accident? What could each of them have done that night to prevent the accident?
Were you surprised that Tate forgives Cassidy when the circumstances of the accident are revealed? What allows him to forgive her? At what point does Cassidy realize that she has to forgive herself?
The theme of this book is forgiveness and redemption. Have you ever sought forgiveness for a transgression? How did you go about making amends?
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.
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Chapter One
Left hand riding lightly on his thigh, Austin Blackwell held the reins with the other and picked his way through the thick woods above Whisper Falls, Arkansas. If one more calf strayed into this no-man’s land between his ranch and the cascading waterfall, he was putting up another fence. A really tall one. Barbed wire. Electrified. Let the folks of the small Ozark town whine and bellow that he was ruining the ambience or whatever they called the pristine beauty of these deep woods. They just didn’t want to lose any tourist money. Well, he didn’t want to lose any cattle money, either. So they were on even playing field. He’d never wanted to open the waterfall to tourism in the first place.
Now, every yahoo with an itch to climb down the rock wall cliff and duck behind the curtain of silvery water traipsed all over his property just to mutter a prayer or two. Wishful thinking or pure silliness. He’d made the trek a few times himself and he could guarantee prayers whispered there or anywhere else for that matter were a waste of good breath.
Something moved through the dense trees at his left and Austin pulled the horse to a stop. Cisco flicked his ears toward the movement, alert and ready to break after the maverick at the flinch of his master’s knee.
“Easy,” Austin murmured, patting the sleek brown neck while he scoped the woods, waiting for a sight or sound. Above him a squirrel chattered, getting ready for winter. Autumn leaves in reds and golds swirled down from the branches. Sunlight dappled between the trees, although the temperature was cool enough that Austin’s jacket felt good.
He pressed his white Stetson tighter and urged the bay onward in the direction of the falls, the direction from which the movement had come. Might be the maverick.
“Coyote, probably.” But black bear and cougar weren’t out of the question. He tapped the rifle holster, confident he could handle anything he encountered in the woods. Outside the ranch was a different matter.
The roar of the falls increased as he rode closer. Something moved again and he twisted in the saddle to see the stray heifer break from the opposite direction. Cisco responded with the training of a good cutting horse. Austin grappled for the lariat rope as the calf split to the right and crashed through the woods to disappear down a draw.
Cisco wisely put on the brakes and waited for instructions. Austin lowered the rope, mouth twisting in frustration. No use endangering a good horse in this rugged, uneven terrain.
At least the stray had headed in the right direction, back toward the ranch.
“Yep, I’m puttin’ up another fence.” He patted Cisco’s neck with a leather-gloved hand. Somewhere along the meager stretch of old barbed wire the calves had found a place to slip through. Maybe in one of the low places or through a washout from one of the many creeks branching from the Blackberry River. Finding the break across three miles of snaggy underbrush would be a challenge.
But Austin liked it up here on the grassy, leaf- and hickory-lined ridge above Whisper Falls. Always had, especially before the stories started and people came with their noise and tents and plastic water bottles. Before the name changed from Millerville to Whisper Falls—a town council decision to attract tourists. He understood. He really did. Ruggedly beautiful, this area of the Ozarks was isolated. Transportation was poor and there was little opportunity for economic growth, especially since the pumpkin cannery shut down.
The remoteness was why he’d come here. The economy was why he ranched.
Those were also the reasons the little town had changed its name and started the ridiculous marketing campaign to attract tourism. Whisper Falls. Austin snorted. No amount of marketing moved God to answer prayers.
He shifted in the saddle to look toward the ninety-feet-high waterfall.
Here, the Blackberry River tumbled faster than near the ranch, picking up speed before plummeting over the cliff in a white, foamy, spectacular display of nature’s force and beauty.
The solitude of the woods soothed him, helped him forget. Nature didn’t judge the way people would. He could be himself. He could relax.
The air was clean here, too, tinted with the spray of freshness from the bubbling falls. It almost made him feel clean inside again. Almost. He breathed the crispness into his lungs, held the scent. Hickory and river, moist earth and rotting leaves. Good smells to an outdoorsman. Great smells to a man whose past stank like sewage.
“Better get moving, Cisco. Maybe we can find the fence break before dark.”
He pulled the bay around and that’s when he saw the woman. A slim figure in dark slacks and bright blue sweater moved quickly from tree to tree in some game of hide-and-seek. Curious, Austin took out his field glasses to look around, expecting a child or lover to join the game. No one did.
Austin swung the binoculars back to the woman. What he saw spurred him to action.
* * *
Annalisa Keller stifled a sob. She had to hide. She had to get away. “Please, God. Help.”
She heard him coming, thrashing, crashing through the dry leaves and underbrush like the madman he was. Knees rattling, she cradled her left arm and stumbled down the rocky incline. Straight ahead, the falls roared, a rush of sound with the power to sweep her away. The thought tempted, beckoned. Jump in and be swept away. He could never find her. No one would.
Teeth chattering, she resisted the frightening urge. The instinct to survive was too strong. She
couldn’t give up now.
“Help me, God,” she whispered again, grappling to the sides of slick rock, edging closer to the beckoning water, to the screaming falls. The footpath was worn and well-used, as if others had come this way before her. She followed the stones, clinging with cold fingers to the jutting rocks as she edged along the cliff face, hoping to hide from searching eyes above.
The roar of the falls grew louder still. Her heart thundered in answer. Before her was the waterfall. Behind her was the direction she’d come. An awful thought engulfed her. Why had she begun the descent to the falls? If he spotted her, she’d be trapped between him and the raging water.
But she knew why. She’d been running blindly with no destination in mind other than escape.
She sensed him coming, felt the air change with another presence. In desperation, Annalisa moved forward, praying there was sanctuary against the wet cliff face. One more step and...
The world went silent. A deafening silence.
Shocked, Annalisa wondered for one beat if she’d actually jumped into the foaming pool below the waterfall, if she was dead.
Trembling, she reached out, touched the silver curtain of water in front of her. A hard rain shower soaked her hand, cold and prickly like needles of ice.
In awe, she glanced to each side and then upward. The sight was dizzying. Behind was solid rock, wet and slick and shiny, with a jutting overhang high above. Water rocketed over the cliff with such force that a quiet space, like a white-noise machine, formed behind the cascade. She stood on a two-foot ledge, protected in the back by a wall of rock and hidden in front by the waterfall. It was like something out of the movie The Last of the Mohicans.
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