Cowboy Come Home

by Sinclair Jayne

  “There’s even a dance studio in town that I’m going to check into to see if maybe I can teach some adult dance classes or yoga or Pilates in the mornings or evenings.”

  It was so strange. He was happy for her. Proud of her. And yet he couldn’t quite let her go so she could fly.

  “What about us?” The words were out of his mouth before he knew he was going to speak. “I mean, can I still text you from the road? Can I stop in and say hi when I’m back at the ranch?” he asked even though he was the one who had decided he needed to end the relationship so Piper could move on and he could figure out what he wanted for a future.

  “Not right away,” Piper said. “I think we need time apart. I know I do so that I won’t hope that you’ll want to…you know.” She sucked in a shaky breath and stared at the floor. “Get back together,” she mumbled.

  What was life without hope? Boone rejected that conclusion.

  “You go your way. I go mine,” she said in a low hollow voice that hit him like a mallet, hard in his gut.

  “That sounds so final.”

  Piper nodded. She swallowed hard and then reached into her leather backpack and pulled out a small box with a ribbon around it. “I got this for you at one of the artist stalls. It reminded me of how we met, how we traveled, and how we parted. Take care, Boone.” She pushed the box at him and then turned and left the trailer.

  Boone held the box for a long time before he found the nerve to open it. Of course it was perfect. Trust Piper to find the gift that symbolized so much. Boone wrapped the leather around his wrist and fastened the Montana coin snap. He touched the copper beads and the transparent blue-green glass beads. He smiled.

  Piper thought it was a goodbye gift, but why get him something that connected them, that he’d wear like a shackle and would see daily if she really meant goodbye forever?

  Feeling a little more certain he was on the right path, Boone went back to prepare for his last event.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Two weeks later Boone waled on what was probably his thirtieth fence post of the morning, while the still-pinkish morning sun slowly crept up into the sky. Two of the ranch hands were out repairing the south back fence line with him. The morning was chilly, but Boone was stripped down to his T-shirt and jeans.

  Hitting so hard, working so fast was helping him not to think because he’d been doing too much of that the past couple weeks. What did he need to bring to the table before feeling like he could be a full partner at the ranch? What did he need to offer Piper to feel that he would make her a good life partner? Would buying his own small parcel of land make him feel deserving of the life his parents and their ranch offered? Was he ready to settle down, give up the rodeo and come back to the ranch full time, ask Piper to marry him? Would she even want to now?

  So many questions and not an answer in sight.

  His dad rode out in the truck. Boone had taken a horse, not wanting to wait for the crew or supplies and needing the freedom of a fast, chilly gallop.

  Boone ignored him initially even when he saw that his mom had made a large thermos of coffee and snacks for his dad to bring. He’d been repairing and building fences since he was ten. He didn’t need any help or advice.

  He noticed the two hands had joined his dad and were chatting.

  Fucking cozy. He had things to do. He continued to work, loving the way his muscles already ached.

  Piper would be back from her morning run by now. Stretching out and doing some weight work. Or maybe about to hit the shower. He wondered if she had a client scheduled today. If she was lonely. If she missed him.

  “You ever going to talk about it?” His dad stood beside him holding out a cup of coffee. Boone slammed down the fence post driver three more times, feeling the sink of the stake into the hard earth. This part of the ranch was as rocky as the moon. Exactly what he needed today because he was running out of time. He had to make some decisions. Take action. Prove to Piper that…

  “Just trying to get caught up.”

  Hell no he was not going to talk about his feelings with his dad. Piper, yes, if she’d answer a text.

  Boone, I love you as you are. He kept remembering Piper’s declaration. The ring of truth in her voice. The intensity in her expression. But how could that be? He hadn’t achieved much of anything yet. Nothing like his father had. He was just him. That’s all he had to give her—himself.

  “Coffee?”

  “Busy.”

  “Take a break. Your mom also made breakfast sandwiches since you’ve been going without.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Boone loved the repetitive manual labor. It calmed his mind. But when he went to jerk out the old, bent and rusted stake to replace it, his dad put a hand on his shoulder. Boone fought the urge to shake it off.

  “Drink the coffee. Eat the sandwich. Take a break.”

  Boone took the steaming traveler’s mug. Held the sandwich. Wasn’t hungry. He felt too on fire to eat. He looked around for a flat surface to put them down on.

  “Drink. Eat,” his dad repeated.

  What the fuck? Was this some parental intervention? He was fine. Fucking miserable and no closer to figuring out what he needed to do to deserve Piper and his place at his family’s ranch. But fine.

  “I’ll get to it.”

  “Now’s good.” His dad had his own cup of coffee. He took a sip and looked across the land. “You still have Copper Springs before the break and finals.”

  He knew his schedule.

  “You’re losing weight.”

  Boone shrugged. “Not a big deal.”

  “Is when losing strength can get you killed.”

  Boone unwrapped his sandwich. Took a bite. Tasted like dirt to him. He missed the ones Piper made with all the weird ingredients, some of which he’d never heard of. The thought of the egg and cheese and bacon would make her eyes roll back in her head in horror.

  And then he would laugh. Threaten to kiss her with cholesterol on his breath. Or smear grease on her lips.

  Then she’d push him away, laugh at him and run, and he’d chase and catch and then they’d…

  Boone chewed and could barely get himself to swallow.

  “Not really hungry,” he mumbled.

  His dad nodded. “So which part should we not talk about first?”

  “Funny. Not talking about Piper.”

  “Good to know her name.”

  “Sure Miranda and half the town told you by now.”

  “Miranda told me she’s still here. She’s a masseuse. Witt said she’s starting to get a few PT clients at the hospital clinic for therapeutic massage.”

  Of course Piper would succeed. She was smart, hardworking and awesome. And not just because he loved her.

  He staggered a little at the L word. But it hit like a load of dumped fence posts. He’d avoided admitting that he loved Piper because they were supposed to be temporary. But he’d fallen hard and fast a long, long time ago. Million reasons. The way she looked at him like he was a hero always made him feel like one. The way she held him at night—wrapped around him like he was her world. He loved to make her eyes light up, make her laugh, show her something new, make her feel safe and treasured. He loved that she was so curious about people and history and, hell, everything. He loved her kindness. Her sweetness. The way she took care of him.

  Boone could barely breathe.

  He’d thrown her love and care away.

  Wanted her back with a fierce ache that clawed at his bones.

  Needed her back.

  He was barely existing, while she seemed to be settling into the town. She and Miranda had gone to a movie with Petal. She’d been shooting pool with Shane at Grey’s one night, just before Shane left town. He’d walked in and walked out, trying to adhere to her no-contact rule although it was damn near killing him.

  “It’s too soon,” she’d reminded him after the first late-night text when he’d been on the road, lonely as hell and wondering what he was doing
without her.

  In his mind, it was too long without contact so he’d resorted to often keeping his phone off so he wouldn’t be tempted.

  He couldn’t eat or sleep. He just kept his eye on his goal. Winning the rest of the season. Accumulating more money. Going to that auction and getting that chunk of land. He thought he had a real shot. It was small and bordered by much bigger family-owned ranches. A little piece of it even touched his family’s ranch. He had an idea about what he’d do with some of it. Not fully fleshed out. But he was in the process of being a better man, an independent man.

  “Not in the habit of gossip at the pharmacy with Carol Bingley,” his dad said sipping his coffee. “So Piper. What went wrong?”

  “Seriously, I am not discussing my love life with you.”

  “So you love her.”

  Fuck. Boone jammed a huge bite in his mouth. Good delay tactic, but now he’d have to swallow.

  Boone spit out the sandwich. “Why do you have to be so literal? It’s a common phrase.”

  “Not for you. Not ever. And you won’t look me in the eye. You’ve stopped talking. You don’t joke with the ranch hands anymore. Work yourself harder than three men and have been competing like the devil’s on your ass. So yeah, love. And you may not want to talk about it, but your mother’s worried sick, and I don’t like her to be upset. She has enough worry with Rohan out on another mission he can’t talk about.”

  “Fine. I met Piper in California when I went to the stock contractor in Temecula to check out their operation.”

  “That long ago?”

  Boone felt itchy. “Let’s just drop it.”

  “Fine. What went wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  Everything.

  “So she dumped you. Why?”

  “She didn’t dump me.” Boone’s pride was stung, and by the way his father took a sip of his coffee, his features carefully blank, Boone realized he’d been had.

  “I’m just not ready to settle down,” Boone said irritably, tired of trying to explain himself. “I need to achieve more. Be a better man.”

  “She say that?” His father’s features tensed along with his voice.

  “No, of course not,” Boone defended Piper. “She said she loved me. That she couldn’t imagine a better man for her. That she loved me as I am.”

  His father stared at him, his face as uncomprehending as Piper’s had been. Why didn’t anyone get it? Get him?

  “It’s just so goddamn easy for you,” Boone burst out. “All of this is yours. You built it. You worked it. All of it is your achievement, and I’m just walking in. None of it’s mine except by birthright.”

  “Bullshit,” his dad said. “That’s bullshit, Boone. It’s not my ranch. It was my father’s and his brother’s. His father’s before. And before that my great-grandmother inherited the ranch and ran it. It’s not Taryn Telford Ranch. It’s the Telford Family Ranch. Family. Father to son or daughter.”

  “You saved it.”

  “Hell yeah, risked my ass every weekend to save it. Bust it each day to work it. Keep it. For us. All of us. For you and Witt and Rohan and Riley if they want. And your children. You started working the ranch hard when you were in elementary school, Boone. Learning the skills. Helping when you could and every day you got stronger and smarter about how to do things. You’re ranch through and through.

  “You have a gift with the animals and with the equipment. You keep everything running. Hell sometimes I lose you for days when you go help a neighbor with their big equipment. The point is we all work together. You’re not walking into anything. You are part of it as much as I am.”

  “I just feel like I should bring something of my own.”

  “You do.” His father’s voice echoed his disbelief. “You bring yourself. Your skills. Your knowledge. Your way of solving problems. Approaching things. Your dreams. I don’t expect the ranch to be static when you come on board. I expect you to agitate to make changes.”

  Boone pushed back his hat and wiped his forehead with his forearm. “I just want to achieve something on my own.”

  “Outside of ranching?”

  “No.” Boone kicked dirt over the food he’d spit out but animals and insects would make quick work of it. “I’ve always been your son. You’ve been an amazing dad. I just want to add on to that legacy, be my own man.”

  His father was quiet for a while. Thinking.

  “You are your own man, Boone. Your decisions are yours. Your actions shape your life. When I married your mom and brought her here to live, my dad and uncle were still alive and working the ranch with me. I quit the rodeo and got to work. Your mom and I talked about things. She worked with the horses, but she also improved on the garden. Then later added crops. I wanted to buy more property. We saved so we could. Now I want to go into bull breeding. Expand stock-contracting operations. Each generation adds a piece. Once you get here and your heart and head are here, you’ll start making changes. We’ll work together as a family for a while, and then you’ll take over and work with your kids and your siblings if any of them want to come home and make a life here. That’s how it works.”

  Boone was quiet. He was starting to get what his father was trying to tell him. But he still felt like he needed to offer more to Piper.

  “I want to build a career here,” Boone said. “I want to put my own stamp on it. But I feel like I’m just bringing me.”

  And his savings from his winnings over the past seven years.

  “That’s all a ranch needs. Dedication. Willingness to work and share ideas.”

  Boone jerked his head in a nod. The words and what they meant were starting to settle in his head. Sound right. His father was verbally making him a partner. He’d bring his own ideas and skills to the ranch. Make changes.

  And there were definitely things he wanted to do differently. Already after spending the summer with Piper he wanted to move the ranch over to organic. Grass fed. Antibiotic and hormone-free beef.

  He looked at his dad.

  “Need to finish the fence. Heading out tomorrow.”

  “I know. That’s the other reason I’m here to help. But, Boone, don’t leave it too long.”

  “The fence?” He’d been working on in since yesterday and would be done with this section by late tonight if he humped it.

  “No. Piper.”

  “Dad, she deserves…”

  “Let her decide what she deserves. When I met your mother, she knocked me off my proverbial horse. She was beautiful, educated, from a large ranching family that was way more successful than mine, out by Missoula. Your mom was way out of my league. I didn’t care. Had to have her.”

  Boone laughed a little. It had been the same with Piper.

  “And I didn’t have much to offer. Me. A dangerous profession. A family ranch that was nearing foreclosure. And a burning desire to keep it in the family and make it thrive again. Your mother put her stamp on the ranch as much as I did. We worked together.

  “Like when Witt went after Miranda, he wanted to make a damned grand gesture, so he made an offer on that fifty acres I had been waiting on to come down in price. He stole it from under my nose just to impress Miranda and show her that he meant business and planned to stay and put down roots here. I told him he should have waited for Miranda’s input. If she were going to become part of the family, part of the ranch, she should have a say in what happens.”

  Damn genetics was a bitch. Boone had been planning the same move.

  “Man you are today will be different in five years,” his dad said, picking up quite a few stakes and easily balancing them over his shoulder. “Time changes you. The ranch changes you. The woman you fall in love with changes you. Fatherhood changes you. It’s a process, Boone, for you as a man, and you and your wife as a couple. Not a damn destination.”

  *

  Early Monday morning Piper entered the fairly crowded Java Café and spotted Tucker cuddled up with her husband and a few others whom she recognized fro
m the rodeo a couple of weeks ago. Miranda was at another table huddled up with a few of the moms from the elementary school—likely planning a fall festival party or something else family-oriented. Piper ignored the pang of her heart and instead smiled and waved. Two of the women were clients and had booked second massage appointments.

  “You knew it would take time to settle in,” she chided herself under her breath.

  Things were going as well as could be expected. While in line at the counter, she scanned the menu of drinks as if she didn’t already know what she wanted. She should be happy, she reminded herself again. She’d chosen a town. Was making her stand here. It was cute. People were nice. She was already making some inroads socially, and her business, while not thriving, was at least up and running. Boone’s brother, an orthopedic surgeon, and one of his partners, Wyatt Gallagher, had already introduced her to the rehabilitation staff at the hospital, and she’d discussed her training, experience and training both in massage and kinesiology and dance. She’d already worked with two post-injury clients from one of the physical therapists.

  She also was going to meet with the owner of a dance studio in town to see if they had any desire to offer barre classes or adult dance classes or anything she could do at night so she didn’t have to sit alone and stare at the bare walls until she fell asleep.

  So she wouldn’t have to think about Boone.

  The weeks apart had not eased her ache or emptiness. She still had trouble falling asleep without him curled around her. And when she startled awake at night in the small studio apartment she’d taken over from Shane who’d left town several days ago, increasing Piper’s loneliness, she couldn’t get back to sleep.

  Instead she’d make herself some peppermint tea and sit on the stoop of the outside stairs leading up to her studio and stare down the quiet residential street and feel lonelier than she ever had.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have told Boone to stop texting. Maybe she should start responding to his Snapchats.

  But each picture, each short text had made her heart leap with hope, and her brain hyper-analyze. And then she’d worry about when the texts would slow. Stop. And she had to stop hoping. She’d told him she hadn’t chosen Marietta because of his ties there.