Just a bit more. Just a few feet more and they’d be ahead of the leader, Willard Kelly.
Kip braced himself against the rocking of the wagon, leaning ahead as far as he dared urging his horses on. The spectators lining the rails were a blur. Kip knew Nicole and the boys were watching, but he kept his focus on the horses and on the finish line.
A bit more. Just a bit more.
Then they were across the chalked line and the race was over.
Kip drew back on the reins, pulling his horses back. They tossed their heads, unwilling to stop. They had done well, he thought. They had done their best and he was thrilled they had come this far.
The Rangeland Derby. Even to qualify had been thrill enough for him.
“And the winner of the heat, back in competition after a long break…Kip Cosgrove.”
The words of the announcer blared above the noise of the crowd and Kip dropped back onto the seat of the chuck wagon, his heart pounding.
He won his heat. He actually won his heat.
The reins slipped through his hand because of his moment of inattention and he gathered them up, slowly bringing his horses to a quick walk.
But best of all, he won in front of Nicole and the kids.
“Good race, Kip,” Willard called out as he turned his team around. “Good to see you back on the circuit.”
Kip nodded his acknowledgment, his entire focus on getting his horses turned around. The next group of wagons were coming around for their heat and he needed to get out of the way.
When he got his horses turned, his sponsor’s rep, Aidan Thomson, jumped into his wagon to join him in the victory walk past the stands.
“Good race, Cosgrove,” he said, slapping Kip on the shoulder, then waving to the people as they drove past the grandstand. “Your father-in-law will be happy to know he’s getting a return on his sponsorship.”
Kip just grinned, rubbed the dust out of his eyes with his arm and glanced over the people gathered at the rail.
Then he saw them. Nicole waving, Justin sitting on the rail whistling, Tristan yelling with his hands cupped around his mouth.
His mom and Isabelle stood to one side, madly waving as well. On Nicole’s other side stood Nicole’s father, arms resting on the rails, eyes narrowed as if still trying to figure this whole chuck-wagon-racing thing out.
Sam gave Kip a curt nod of his head, and from Sam Williams, that was high praise indeed.
Sam had kept his distance for a while until Kip’s mother had taken things in hand and called him. She’d told him in no uncertain terms he could either die a lonely, miserable old man or he could accept the family he had and see it as a blessing.
It had taken a few letters, a few pictures and a few phone calls from Nicole for Sam to come around. But eventually he had. During his first visit to the ranch, the twins had been enthusiastic and charming and he had thawed under their spell. Seeing Kip working with the horses had sealed the deal and Kip had gotten a new sponsor.
Then Kip caught Nicole’s gaze.
She pressed her fingers to her mouth and blew him a kiss, grinning and waving. I love you, she mouthed.
I love you, too, he returned.
“Nice little family you got there,” Aidan said.
“The best,” Kip said, bunching his reins into one hand and waving back, his grin almost hurting his face. “The best family this cowboy could ask for.”
If you enjoyed meeting Kip and Nicole, then stay a little longer in Aspen Valley and meet more of the Cowboys from the area:
It had been many months and many miles since he’d driven this road to Refuge Ranch. A lot of memories and a lot of pain.
Tanner Fortier’s foot hit the brakes as he stopped his truck at the top of the hill, a cloud of snow swirling around his vehicle. From this vantage point he looked across the basin cradling Refuge Ranch to the mountains beyond; their gray, forbidding surfaces softened by the winter snowpack, a hard white against the endless blue of the Alberta sky.
He shivered a moment, the chill of winter easing into the cab of his pickup. The side windows hadn’t completely cleared of frost since Lethbridge.
Tanner stacked his gloved hands on the steering wheel, reinforcing his defenses before descending into the valley and the Bannister Ranch. He hadn’t come willingly. He would have preferred to go directly home to the Circle C Ranch. Though he hadn’t been away from his childhood home as long as from the Bannister ranch, he would have liked to spend some time there, catch his breath before coming here.
But time wasn’t on his side, and he wanted this job out of the way.
He rolled his shoulder, tensing against the pain that knifed through it, a souvenir from a rank saddle bronc who had spun in when Tanner expected him to spin out. Tanner had lost his seat but, as if to add insult to injury, had also received a well-placed kick that had dislocated his shoulder and put him out of the money for that particular rodeo and had ruined his saddle.
Monty Bannister had been the one who made that saddle, and Tanner wanted Monty to be the one to fix it. Hence his trip here first. The sooner the saddle was fixed, the sooner Tanner could head out on the road again.
The fact that Keira Bannister, his old girlfriend and fiancée, was back living at Refuge Ranch was something he’d have to deal with.
Tanner sent up a quick prayer for strength, put his truck in gear and headed down the road. He wouldn’t be long. Just a quick chat with Monty, drop off his saddle, say hello to his stepmother, who was staying at the Bannister ranch to help Ellen Bannister recuperate from serious surgery and then head back to the Circle C ranch a few miles down the road.
It had been his home ever since his father married Alice when he was five.
But not anymore.
Tanner had figured on staying at the Circle C for the few days it took for his saddle to be repaired and then heading back to his garage in Lethbridge, then off to his buddy’s ranch near Vegas to get ready for the National Finals Rodeo. The super bowl of rodeos. The big one.
The rodeo that would, hopefully, help him let go of the burden that had been haunting him the past two years.
He cut through a grove of snow-laden pines then slowed as he entered the draw sheltering the ranch buildings. Refuge Ranch looked so much the same it gave him an ache. And yet, as he looked over the familiar gathering of barns, hay sheds, bunkhouse and main house, he noticed a new addition. Tucked behind a grove of trees, to the left of the main house was another house that had been built while he was gone.
Was it Keira’s? he wondered as he pulled into the yard.
Then, as he made that final turn, he saw her.
Her face was hidden by a misshapen cowboy hat pulled low over her head and a red knitted scarf wound around her neck. A too large, worn oilskin coat flapped around her legs, meeting laced sheepskin boots.
It could have been anyone.
Except Tanner knew that sideways tilt of her head, how she always bunched her hands inside the sleeves of her coats. How, even bundled in winter clothes, he recognized the way her purposeful stride ate up the ground.
His heart gave an unwelcome thump and his foot hit the brake too hard. His truck slid a foot or two on the packed snow, then came to a halt just as Keira Bannister looked up.
He knew the moment she saw him. Her hands fell out of her sleeves and dropped to her sides. Her narrow chin came up and her lips thinned. Even though her bangs hung well over her eyes, he caught a glitter in their blue depths that matched the chill of the sky above them. She looked angry, which puzzled him, which, in turn, made him angry.
She was the one who had broken up with him. He was the one who, if his life was a country song, had been done wrong. What right did she have to be angry?
He was the one who had tried to get them back together after their breakup when he’d returned from that string of rodeos they’d fought about. But when he’d come back to Aspen Valley she’d disappeared. Hadn’t responded to any of his calls, emails or texts. Absolute silence. An
d on top of that, she hadn’t even bothered showing up at his stepbrother’s funeral two years ago. Keira had known Roger almost as well as she’d known Tanner. But in no way did she acknowledge the loss of Tanner’s stepbrother and rodeo partner. She hadn’t bothered to send a note, a card, not even the courtesy of a simple text message.
What right did she have to look so angry?
Their gazes held a moment and despite the raft of negative feelings the sight of her created, woven through them all was an emotion older and deeper than that new anger and frustration. An emotion that had grown and matured as they grew up together, friends, confidants and then sweethearts.
Tanner swallowed, as if the tightening of his throat could keep those older feelings from rising. He was surprised at how easily they returned when he saw her. He had heard, via his stepmother, Alice, that Keira had come back to Aspen Valley two years ago. A month after Roger’s funeral.
He knew nothing more than that. After Roger’s death Tanner had had no reason to return to Aspen Valley so he had stayed away, working in the mechanic business that had been part of the reason he and Keira had broken up.
He took a deep breath, clapped his hat on his head and stepped out of the pickup into the chill wind that whistled down from the mountains. The sooner he got this done, the sooner he could be on his way.
He closed his truck door, tugged on his gloves, turned up the collar of his woolen coat against the cold wind that cut through the yard and walked toward Keira.
She watched him as he came, her head up, her mouth still a tight line, her cheeks a rosy glow. Blond strands of hair had slipped free from her hat and caught the wind, waving in front of her face. She batted them away, her eyes on him.
Beautiful as ever.
He caught the errant thought and pushed it back into the past.
“Hey, Keira,” he said as he approached her. He stopped himself from adding the ubiquitous how are you doing because it seemed superfluous.
“Hey, Tanner,” was her tight reply, her breath creating wisps of vapor tugged by the wind as she tucked her wayward hair back under her hat. She reached down and petted her dog, Sugar, on his head, then shot another look at Tanner.
Sugar released a gentle whine, then trotted over to Tanner and sniffed at him. Then he sat down, looking up as if expecting something from him.
“Hey, Sugar,” Tanner said, petting the dog, who seemed happier to see him than Keira did.
He looked back at her. They stood facing each other a moment, like combatants trying to decide who would make the first move. Guess it was up to him. “How’s your mother feeling?” he asked as Sugar stretched, then returned to Keira’s side.
“Today is a better day, according to your mom.” She angled her chin toward the main ranch house. “You going in to see Alice? She’s there right now.”
“I will in a few minutes.” Tanner’s stepmother was a home care nurse and right now her job was taking care of Keira’s mother, Ellen Bannister, as well as babysitting Adana, John’s little girl. John Argall was the ranch’s hired hand. Ellen used to do the babysitting until she broke her neck in a freak fall and was now recuperating under Alice’s supervision. “I’m actually here to see Monty. He around?”
Keira shoved her hands back in her sleeves as her hair came free again. “He went to Aspen Valley to get the mail and meet up with his cronies at the Grill and Chill. You can call him on his cell.”
Tanner did a double take. “Monty has a cell phone? Those are words I never thought I’d hear.” He couldn’t imagine Monty, a hidebound Luddite and proud of it, packing a cell phone.
“Yeah. He got it when Mom had her neck fusion surgery done.” Keira’s hesitant tone generated a thrum of sympathy.
“I was sorry to hear about the accident,” Tanner said. “Must have been scary.”
“It was. We’re thankful that nothing...nothing worse happened. It was a bad fall.”
Keira’s gaze ticked over his, and for a moment he wondered if she was going to say anything about Roger. Though two years had passed since the accident that killed his brother, Keira and Tanner hadn’t seen each other since his death.
But nothing.
Instead, Keira lifted her chin, staring directly at him. Her challenging attitude disturbed him, but it hurt him more. “What do you need to see my dad about?”
“I have a saddle I want him to fix,” Tanner said. “Maybe I can drop it off and he can call me later?”
“Dad doesn’t do much leather work anymore,” was Keira’s curt reply.
This was a surprise. Monty had been in the saddle-making business since he was a boy. He had learned the craft from his father and was a sought-after leather artisan. He had crafted numerous saddles given as awards in rodeos all over the Western states. The last Tanner had heard, Refuge Ranch Leatherworks was still a going concern. “I didn’t think your dad would quit until someone dragged him out of here. When did that happen?”
“Since the doctor told him to slow down, and I took over.”
Tanner frowned at that, trying to process this information.
“If you want your saddle looked at, I’m the one you need to talk to,” Keira said. Then she spun around and ducked into the shop, Sugar right on her heels. Tanner wasn’t sure whether her abrupt departure meant the conversation was over or that he should follow her into the shop.
He assumed the latter, returned to his truck and pulled the bronc saddle out of the cab. He walked to the shop and stepped inside.
After the glare of the sun on the snow outside, Tanner had to pause and let his vision adjust to the darker interior. He pulled his hat off then looked around the space of a shop that was once as familiar to him as his own home. He would often keep Keira company here when she did piecework for her father. He’d loved watching as she cut and stitched and did the intricate leather tooling on the saddles Monty was known for.
Neither Keira’s older brother, Lee, or sister, Heather, were interested in the business their father had taken over from his father. Heather’s focus was barrel racing at first, then modelling and Lee... Well, Lee liked his fun, running around with his buddy Mitch and, at times, Tanner’s brother, Roger.
Now Heather was living the high-life and Lee was out of prison but not living in Aspen Valley.
Lots of sorrow for the Bannister family.
Keira was moving some pieces of cut leather off the heavy butcher-block worktable dominating the center of the building as Tanner set the saddle on it.
Across from the table, rows of shelves stacked with boxes holding grommets, snaps, buckles and rigging D’s and other hardware necessary for saddle making filled most of the wall. Beside the shelves hung stirrups made of metal, or leather-covered wood, all lined up by size and shape. Next to them stood an old rolltop desk that held binders of photos of completed projects to show prospective customers.
Sugar lay on an old worn rug lying by the chair as she always did when Keira worked here.
The other corner of the shop was taken up by three industrial sewing machines. Beside them, perched on a saddle rack, was a half-finished saddle.
What had changed most was the wall opposite him. Monty used to hang pictures of finished saddles on it. Now shelves holding wallets, belts, briefcases and purses took up that space. Obviously, a new venture for Refuge Ranch Leatherworks.
Keira brushed a few remnants of leather from the table, then adjusted a pile of cardboard patterns. Fussy work that kept her attention off him.
“Since when did you start cutting, stitching and stamping again?” Tanner asked, slipping his hands in the pockets of his jacket.
“When I came back. About two years ago.”
And a month after Roger’s funeral, he had discovered. Once again he wondered why she hadn’t attended the funeral. Once again the pain of her absence cut. He brushed the old feelings aside. They belonged to a past he’d closed the door on a long time ago.
“Looks like you’ve got a few other projects in the pipeline,” he s
aid.
Keira rested her hands on the table in front of her, looking resolutely ahead at the wall of manufactured items Tanner guessed were made right here by her. “I’ve been taking the business in another direction,” was all she said. “Working on a purse for Freya. Brooke wants one too.” She stopped, pressing her lips together, as if she had told him too much about her friends.
“Pretty ambitious. Do you still do saddles?”
“I do a few. Dad helps out, and helps me with the small work from time to time. He can’t stay completely out of it.” Her gaze skittered off him and onto the saddle now lying on the table between them. “That looks ragged.”
Tanner ran his hand over the misshapen cantle and adjusted the worn stirrups. “Last ride was a bit of a rodeo, if you’ll pardon the expression.” If it were his saddle, he would have junked it. But this saddle held deep-seated memories, and he wanted it, no, needed it fixed.
Keira shot him a frown. “You still riding? I thought you were done when Alice helped you buy that mechanic shop in Lethbridge?”
“I was, but I thought I’d take one more run at the NFR this year.”
Before his brother died, Roger had qualified for the National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas. After his death and after Tanner got over his grief, he promised himself he would do one last rodeo season in Roger’s honor, aiming to qualify for the NFR himself. This was that season and he had done well. He felt that God had honored his request to ride in the NFR for Roger. Had some good rides and made some good money. He’d gotten some injuries on his quest, but soon he would be riding in Vegas, and he was determined to do it on Roger’s saddle.
He was equally determined to win. Maybe then he could lay his guilt over Roger’s death to rest.
Maybe Alice would finally forgive him.
“Wow, it certainly got a working over,” she said, examining the saddle carefully.
Her throaty voice was even. Well-modulated. If anyone were listening, they would think she was talking to a stranger.
Not her former fiancé.
Western Hearts: A sweet, cowboy romance (Cowboys of Aspen Valley Book 1) Page 20