by Liz Isaacson
“Ted, this is April Nox. She’s, well, she’s….”
“She’s as close to my god-daughter as she can get,” Megan said from the recliner. “Her mother was one of my best friends when I lived in Jackson Hole.”
Ted’s coal-colored eyes seemed to look past all of April’s anger, and a faint smile appeared on his lips. “Have you worked on a horse farm before, April?”
“No.” She had no inclination to call him sir though he couldn’t be older than Landon.
Those eyes flashed, and April could lose herself to a gorgeous pair of eyes like that. “Oh, well, this should be fun then.” He gave Landon a look that clearly said it would not be fun, and he was not happy with being saddled with her.
“Thanks for the dinner invite, but I’m not hungry.” He left through the front door, and Landon waited until it closed before he sighed.
“Not hungry?” Megan rose from the recliner and set the sleeping infant in his playpen. “I don’t think Ted has ever been not hungry.” She peered at the front door and turned back to Landon. “Has he?”
“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.” Landon sounded tired, and he scooped up both girls. “Time to eat. Let’s get washed up.”
April finished the turkey steaks while Megan opened a few cans of green beans. No one said anything, but April hadn’t been born yesterday. She knew Ted had left because he didn’t want to eat dinner with her.
Chapter Three
“Lolly,” Ted called when he entered the house and only one of his Pomeranians greeted him. He reached down and scooped Stormy into his arms. “Where’s little Lollipop, huh?”
The black and white dog licked his face, which caused a chuckle to erupt from his mouth. He set the dog down and moved to the back door. He collected the dogs’ food and water bowls and cleaned them out and filled them up.
Lolly came through the doggy door just as he set the food on the floor, as usual. “There you are.” He gave the dog an affectionate pat and pulled open the refrigerator. He hadn’t realized April would be taking on work around the ranch, and he’d made sure Landon knew he wasn’t happy about being the one assigned to babysit her. He didn’t mind women on a ranch, but anyone with one good eye could tell April had never actually worked with horses, farm equipment, or hay before. Heck, if Ted’s excellent people-reading skills could be trusted, she usually wore heels and short skirts to work and had a different man taking her to dinner each evening.
Not fair, he chastised himself as he pulled out a carton of eggs. You don’t even know her.
And he didn’t. But he’d found himself obsessing over her for the entire afternoon. Was she married? Engaged? Why did he care so much?
He didn’t know, but he did care. He hadn’t seen a wedding band or any indication of one during their brief encounter in the kitchen. As he chopped an onion and pulled out some leftover ham to make an omelet, he wondered how she’d come to Brush Creek, and why, and how long she’d be here.
He whistled, but the tune was sad and discordant. He hadn’t dated since his retirement from the rodeo circuit. He wasn’t sure why, other than he was content with his bachelor life, satisfied though his career had ended sooner than he’d have liked, happy that he hadn’t had a wife or family to burden with his medical care.
Or at least he had been. Now, though, he could see and feel a hole that hadn’t existed before, and he wondered how long it had been there and how he could possibly fill it.
The next afternoon, April stood a couple of steps behind Landon in the barn. She wore jeans that made her legs seem ten miles long, and a long sleeved shirt in the exact shade of violet that reminded Ted of the lilac bushes his mother had cultivated.
A strong sting of missing hit him, but he smiled through it. His mother had died when he was nine, and now, twenty-five years later, he still ached to see her again. He thought he better call his father as soon as possible. When he missed his mother, it usually meant his father was struggling too.
Bring him peace, he was able to send toward heaven before Landon started talking. “So April’s gonna help with the broncos,” he said. “Not training them, but when you take them out to pasture, which I know is happening today.” He glanced at her, and though she’d plaited her hair and slicked on makeup, she also wore a look of pure fury. For some reason, Ted enjoyed the sight of her frowny face.
“So show her how to get saddled up, and bring her back in one piece.” With that, Landon headed for the exit.
“And you’ll be sure to go feed Lolly and Stormy tonight, right?” Ted called after him.
“The girls went and got them this morning. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve already dressed them up and put bows on their ears.” Landon grinned and left the barn, left Ted with that horrible image of his poor poms being treated like dolls, left him standing there with a woman who clearly didn’t want to be there any more than Ted wanted her there.
“All right,” he drawled. “You can ride a horse in your…condition?”
“What condition is that?” she asked.
“You know, pregnant.” Ted actually knew very little about a pregnant woman, as he was the youngest of only two kids. His older brother had never married either. Had never even left home, and still lived only a mile from their father in Austin.
“I’m fine,” she said, turning in a full circle. “So where are these horses we need to take out to pasture?”
“Down this way.” Ted moved away from the corrals that opened into the training arena and headed down the aisle lined with box stalls. “I’m trainin’ two geldings right now to be the best broncos in the rodeo circuit. One’s already spoken for.” He paused outside Yellowstone’s stall. “But Yellowstone still has another, oh I don’t know. Six months of training to complete. He’s a good bucker, this one.”
He ran his hand affectionately down the horse’s nose. “You’re gonna throw a lot of cowboys, aren’t you?” The smile on his face had appeared without Ted’s knowledge, and he straightened his lips when he felt the weight of April’s gaze on his face.
Clearing his throat, he continued down the aisle. “You’ll ride Sugar ‘N Spice.” He gestured toward a tall, red-coated horse that had just started training a couple of months ago. “He came to us from two of the best rodeo horses in the circuit. His mom won barrel racing for three years, and his dad is a four-time champion in both bareback and saddle bronc riding.” He beamed at the horse and couldn’t erase his expression before turning to April.
“You talk about these horses like they’re people.” She studied him, her stomach pushing against her shirt the littlest bit.
“I work with them all day,” he said, his voice on the edge of defensive. “I talk to them like they’re people, because I spend more time with them than I do with people.” He pointed down the aisle. “Saddles in there. Let’s find you one that will work.”
“Aren’t saddles just saddles?” She followed him at his brisk pace.
“No,” he said, entering the tack room. “Sugar is a mild horse right now. Since he’s not trained up, he’ll just meander around if you don’t ride him. And to do that, you need a good saddle.” He pushed one saddle aside and chose another. He lifted it off the counter and held it up. “This one looks like it’ll work.”
“How can you tell?”
Heat rushed to his face. “Well, you’re a little slimmer, so you need a narrower cut. And, uh, this one is one of the deluxe models, with extra padding.” He ducked his head and got out of the tack room quick.
His heart seemed intent on pounding in time with his feet, and he practically ran back to Sugar’s stall. He turned, almost colliding with April. Instinctively, he reached out and grabbed her shoulders so she wouldn’t fall. “Sorry.”
Their eyes met, and something that felt a lot like sugar and spice coursed between them. She stepped away, her cheeks the color of poppies, her chocolate-brown eyes alight with a fire Ted felt burning in his abdomen.
“I forgot the blanket and the bridle,” he said stu
pidly, stepping past her and retracing his steps. She was the one who didn’t fit on the ranch. She was the one who had no idea how to saddle a horse. He couldn’t believe his brain had tried to betray him just because April smelled like cotton candy and looked like a model from one of his rodeo magazines.
A pregnant model, he reminded himself as he pulled the equipment from the hooks on the wall. He returned to the horse, and talked his way through saddling it. “You hold these while I get Yellowstone ready to go.”
“Who names the horses?” she asked.
“It depends.” He needed to get away from her, and he didn’t even know why. He saddled Yellowstone and opened both stalls. He led the horses and April outside and took a long, deep breath of air that wasn’t tainted by her fragrance. His head cleared, and he marveled at the blue sky and puffy clouds once more.
A cry of surprise and hurt sounded behind him, and he spun to find April sprawled out on the ground, the reins still in her hand. He couldn’t help it—a laugh burst from his mouth. He quieted it quickly, and rushed to her aid, but she daggered him with those sharp eyes.
Chapter Four
“I don’t need your help,” April said through clenched teeth. No matter how much padding that “deluxe model” saddle had, the ache in her tailbone would last the rest of the day. So much for trying to mount the horse by herself. The alternative—touching Ted—had seemed so much worse than falling.
But now he was touching her anyway. Grabbing her hand to pull her up, despite her protest. Dusting her off with those large-as-frying-pan hands. Everything he touched, though clothed, sparked a buzz in her skin.
“You okay?” He gazed down at her, not an ounce of malice in his face.
“Fine.” On one hand, she liked his jovial nature. Felt comfortable around him. It was the horse that had her spooked. She didn’t like how the animal’s eyes seemed wild, didn’t like that horses were associated with trampling, didn’t like that she had no idea how to control it.
She’d lost control of a lot of things over the years, and as she tried to regain some measure of freedom in her life, she was acutely aware of the distance she still had to go.
He put his hand on the saddle horn. “Your left hand goes here. Left foot in the stirrup. Give yourself a big push, swing the leg over, and done.” He demonstrated, and someone as tall and muscular as him shouldn’t be able to move with so much grace and power.
He dismounted and stepped back, that ridiculous grin stuck in place. “Give it a try. I’ll be right here so you don’t fall.”
She put her hand and foot where he’d indicated, and though she had always been on the thin side, she couldn’t propel her body more than a couple of inches off the ground. Her baby bump, small as it was, threw everything off balance.
“All right,” Ted said after her third try. He put one hand on her hip and added, “One more time.”
But she couldn’t move. She breathed in the scent of him and identified horses, sunshine, chocolate. Her craving for something dark, and rich, and creamy shot toward the sky. She glanced at Ted, sure the attraction between them was only flowing from her. Of course it was. He wouldn’t be interested in a surly, pregnant woman who’d disrupted his work life.
“Push off now,” he coached in a gentle voice, one he probably used on his horses. One that worked, obviously, as April pushed with all her might. Ted did too, his other hand finding her thigh and lifting her leg over the horse. The next thing she knew, she sat in the saddle on the tallest horse in the world, the burn of Ted’s touch racing through her system.
She panted like she’d run a marathon and tried to give him a smile. “Is getting off this hard?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “You’ll get the hang of it.” He didn’t get on Yellowstone, but led both horses toward the homestead. “Where’s your bag?”
“My bag?”
“We’re staying out in the cabin for the weekend.” He paused and glanced back at her. “Didn’t Landon tell you?”
Those ever-present tears pressed against her eyes. “No, he didn’t mention that.”
“So you’re not packed.” It wasn’t a question, and the statement didn’t sound particularly kind either.
“I didn’t know,” she said.
He sighed and said, “Stay here. I’ll go talk to Megan.” He parked the horses in the shade of one of the trees in the backyard and ate up the distance to the house with long, powerful strides. April tried not to be impressed by him, but it was altogether impossible.
She sat there, sweating, for at least fifteen minutes before Megan rushed out of the house, her face a mixture of horror and amusement. “I’m so sorry!” She stopped and held her stomach. “I shouldn’t have run like that.” She took a deep breath. “I packed a few things. I hope it will be okay. It’s just a couple of days.”
Ted exited the house carrying two saddlebags. April looked down at Megan. “You’ll be okay here without me?” Part of her job was to assist Megan. She sure liked that a heck of a lot more than prancing around on this pony.
“I’ll be fine. Landon’s not working this weekend.”
April’s hopes that she could get out of this trip crashed. She tried the smile again, but it still felt wonky on her face. “Okay.”
Ted arrived and attached the bags to Yellowstone’s saddle before swinging himself effortlessly into the saddle. “We ready?”
“Sure are.” Megan backed up, a look on her face that April had seen a time or two. She was actually enjoying herself, and a wild thought struck her in the chest. Megan had offered the ranch to April as a refuge. Said she needed help with the kids, help around the house, and from what April had seen, Megan did.
But had she also brought her out here to match her up with a cowboy? April shot a daggered look at Megan, who waggled her fingers good-bye, and April had her answer. Yes, Megan had definitely had a secondary agenda in bringing April to the ranch.
“See you Sunday!” Megan called as the horses moved through the fence on the north side of the house. April couldn’t bring herself to answer, but Ted waved and bellowed, “Save me a seat at church!”
Church, urch, urch, echoed off the sky. April sank into it, for the first time in months thinking that maybe going to church wouldn’t be so bad if Ted would be there too.
“So tell me about your family.” Ted Caldwell was a talker, April had learned in the hour they’d been riding. He’d already told her all about his family—a single older brother and a retired father in Texas. He’d detailed his rodeo career, his childhood, his two little dogs, and the death of his mother. The only thing he hadn’t mentioned was his dating history or if he’d ever been married. Everything about him reminded April of a big ole teddy bear, and she wanted to wrap her arms around him and squeeze him tight.
“I’m the oldest,” she said. “I have two younger brothers who still live in Wyoming.”
“How old are you?” He didn’t look at her when he spoke, but kept his eye on the towering red butte they kept getting closer to.
“Thirty.”
“Is this your first baby?”
She sucked in a breath. “Yes.” She’d expected people to be curious about her, but she’d hoped with a town the size of Brush Creek, people would mind their own business.
“Are you married?”
“No.”
“Who’s the father?”
“You’re a nosy thing, aren’t you?” She glared at him, satisfied when he turned toward her and offered an apologetic grin.
“Sorry.” He didn’t ask again, but the unspoken questions gnawed at April. The words swirled in her mouth. Her gut clenched and released, swooped forward and back. Her tailbone seemed to have its own heartbeat and it was saying, Tell him. Tell-tell-him.
“Fine,” she finally said. “He was my boyfriend. We’d been together for three years. I wasn’t…going to church in Wyoming. I worked in a legal office, and he’s a used car salesmen that one of the lawyers represented in a lawsuit.” She swallowed, her
tongue and throat sticky. Her emotions had been all over the place for months, and memories with Liam surged forward and stained all the hard work she’d done to find peace.
“He doesn’t want the baby,” she said, her voice definitely in an upper register now. “So when Megan called and asked me to come help with the kids and the homestead, I jumped at the chance.” She looked at the horizon, wishing God would pour out His forgiveness and blessings upon her. At the same time, she knew she didn’t deserve them. Yet.
“I’m trying to figure out what to do.”
Ted let several heartbeats of silence go by. Then he said, “This is a great place to do that.” He flashed her a smile worthy of millions and fell silent.
April soon learned that silence out in the wilds of Utah wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, and she wished Ted would ask her another question. As more time went by, she found a comfortable place inside her own mind and used the summer breeze, bright blue sky, and steady clopping of horse’s hooves to steady herself. Evaluate what she really wanted.
By the time Ted said, “Right there. See that fence line?” April knew she wanted another chance at her happily-ever-after. She wanted a loving husband. The chance to be a mother.
She glanced to the right, where Ted was looking, but she didn’t see a fence. Her hands fell protectively to her belly. Could she really give her baby up for adoption? Maybe she’d never get another opportunity to be a mother.
“Do you have any regrets?” she asked, and Ted swung his attention toward her.
“That’s a huge question,” he said. “I think everyone has regrets.”
“Big ones, I mean. Like something you’d travel back in time to fix, if you could.”
Ted shrugged, but April had worked for lawyers. She knew the signs of evasion as well as anyone, even though she’d only made copies of the briefs, and ordered lunches, and brought in coffee.
“If I could travel back in time, I’d save my mom. Make sure she didn’t get in the car to come pick me up from school that day.” Something crossed his face, but April couldn’t identify it before his chin dropped and his cowboy hat concealed his expression. He turned away from her further and clucked his tongue at his horse.