Her Cowboy Reunion

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “Yes!”

  He owed Lizzie an apology. Another one. And it didn’t take a math whiz to understand that if he needed to apologize this often, he was the common denominator in the problems.

  He spotted Lizzie and Corrie sitting in the front of the sparsely populated church as he walked through the door. She wore a vest made from soft faux fur, trimmed in white, and her hair lay rich against the paler colors. Ivory sleeves covered her arms against the chilled April air, and when she stood, she brushed her hair back, behind her shoulder. Then she glanced back.

  She spotted him, but didn’t let her gaze linger. Not after he’d been such a moron the night before.

  No, she dropped her eyes to Zeke and he hurried her way as if drawn, and Heath could do nothing but follow him to the front pew.

  Zeke scrambled into place. He grinned up at her, then his father, then Lizzie again, as if being tucked between them was a treat. And when the elderly pastor began the short service, Zeke pretended to read out of Lizzie’s book of prayer. And word by word, Lizzie helped him, tapping the words with one trim finger.

  The aging pianist sounded the notes for a final hymn, but before the congregation could begin, the pastor raised a hand. “I need to say a few words before we go,” he announced from the three steps leading to the sanctuary.

  The pianist looked faintly annoyed but stopped playing. The small congregation grew quiet.

  “You all know I’ve been having some health issues this year.” He glanced around the church as people nodded.

  “And that winter is tough on me like it is on some other old folks in the area. So here it is.” He splayed his hands and gazed out at the thin clutch of people who’d made it a priority to come to church, and half a dozen of them were from Pine Ridge Ranch. “I’ll be leaving Shepherd’s Crossing in a few weeks. I’m going back to Boise, to live with my daughter. I wish I didn’t have to do this,” he told them. “Being here has meant a great deal to me, and I hope it’s been good for all of us. But there’s too much for an old man like me to do here, and that’s the truth of it. I’ll see you for a couple more weeks, and then...” He tried to smile but then his jaw quivered slightly and he stopped trying. “We’ll say our goodbyes.” He paused for several long seconds, then sighed. “The thing is...there won’t be anyone coming to take my place.”

  Heath saw the congregation glance around nervously.

  “There’s not enough money to pay a proper wage, and even clergy needs to eat. I’m sorry. I truly am,” he went on, then folded his hands tight across his middle. “We’ll have to close the church.”

  “But not the bells, right, Dad?” Zeke might have thought he was whispering the words, but he wasn’t. “We can still listen to the bells on Sunday, right?”

  The whole church stayed silent. Waiting for his answer? Waiting for someone to protest? To make things right?

  He clutched Zeke’s hand, because how could he answer such a question when he had no answers himself?

  Then he stooped low. “I don’t know, Zeke. I really don’t know.”

  Zeke stared up at him, then lifted his eyes to where the bell tower stood above the front entrance. His gaze darkened and when old Ella Potts began banging on the piano with more zest than talent, Zeke didn’t move, apparently wondering about the bells he loved so much. And Heath had absolutely no idea what to tell him.

  The aged pastor was standing at the door when Heath came through with Zeke. Lizzie had threaded her way through the people, and when he got to the door, she’d disappeared from view. But as he approached the minister, the old man proffered a hand his way. “Can I have a minute, Heath?”

  Zeke clung to Heath’s right hand. He looked sad, and so did the pastor. No church. No pastor. No services. What kind of town were they left with? Was this what he wanted for his son? “I’m sorry you’re not doing well, Pastor.”

  “Age catches up with most, one way or another,” Reverend Sparks said. “I can’t keep breath to preach like I should or pray like I should, and that’s no good for me or the people. And with the church so small and getting smaller—” His voice faded. “And the town down on just about everything... Only a few dozen show up on Sundays now.”

  He was right, but the thought of no church in town didn’t sit right with Heath, even if the only reason he came was the three-and-a-half-foot boy by his side. “The town needs a church. Doesn’t it?”

  “The town needs God,” replied the old man softly. “A building’s just a building. A town steeped in the faith of our fathers can stand strong against adversity. But a town divided, with everyone going their own way, well, that’s different, isn’t it? When we serve ourselves and money, there’s not a lot of room left for God.”

  A town divided.

  Apt words for Shepherd’s Crossing.

  And he was as bad as any, taking care of his son, Sean’s ranch, the sheep, and having little to do with the town or the people except as needed. He’d never seen that as a bad thing, but no church? No school? Not even a general store to grab a sandwich and a conversation on a rainy afternoon.

  “You’re a town leader now,” the pastor continued. “Folks might want a meeting about what to do with the church. It’s old and needs work, but the volunteer fire department is always looking for practice fires to hone their skills.”

  Burn the church? His gut clenched. “You can’t be serious.”

  “This falling-down wreck isn’t the church.” The reverend pointed to Heath and Zeke, then to the thinning cloud of dust the other cars had left behind. “The people are the church. Without them, four square walls aren’t much use. The church isn’t in there, son. It’s here in you. And them. In us.”

  The pastor leaving. Sean’s death. Grazing rights revoked. Heath was surrounded by change. Too much, too fast, too soon. He wouldn’t have thought of himself as an introvert, but right now he’d like to hole up at the ranch, take care of his own and let the world pass them by. But that attitude was what had gotten them into this mess in the first place. So maybe there was a message in the multiple blows.

  “Do you need help getting ready, Reverend?”

  “June’ll see to it,” he replied. “That’s my daughter. She’ll be here shortly after Memorial Day. I’ll say my goodbyes to those that come the next few weeks. And then lock the door.” He sighed, glanced at the church, then the town, and walked away on quiet feet.

  A locked church.

  An empty town.

  A dusty street that saw little traffic.

  “Surrounded by the rich, ignoring the poor.” Lizzie’s quiet observation interrupted his thoughts. He wasn’t sure where she’d come from, but her words hit their mark. “This is a very Robin Hood–style place you’ve got here.”

  “Lizzie—”

  She lifted her phone up. “My barn app’s alerting me. I wanted to catch you in case your phone was turned off for service. Gotta run.” She hurried to her SUV, got in and headed back toward Pine Ridge with Corrie by her side.

  “Is Lizzie mad at us, Dad? At you and me?” Zeke peered up at him, eyes wide.

  “No, son.” He could say this honestly as he opened Zeke’s door and helped the boy in. “She’s not one bit mad at you. For anything.”

  “Well, then it might be you in big trouble,” Zeke offered seriously, “’cause I think she was mad at somebody, Dad. And we’re the only people here.”

  “We’ll fix it when we get home. And I’m going to leave you with Cookie this afternoon because Lizzie and I have to take care of a horse having a baby.”

  “And then I can peek at the baby when it’s done?” Eagerness lifted the worry from his tone.

  “You make it sound like we’re cooking a turkey, not delivering a foal, but yes, you can come look. As long as you’re quiet.”

  “I will be!”

  Jace was exiting the first barn as Zeke scrambled out of the
rear seat. He moved Heath’s way and paused. “Two things, and you’re not going to like either one of them so let me apologize first.”

  Jace’s troubled look underscored the words.

  “Justine isn’t available to watch the little guy like we planned. She got an offer of a paid internship in Seattle and can’t turn it down so she’s staying in Seattle for at least six weeks. She tried calling you but your cell went straight to voice mail and your mailbox is full. She feels terrible because she knows this leaves you in a lurch, but the offer just came through.”

  He’d turned his phone off before church, and hadn’t noticed the missed call when he turned it back on. “She’s sure, Jace? Because this puts us in a spot we can’t afford to be in.” He’d managed to insult Lizzie’s child care abilities, Cookie wouldn’t take kindly to nonstop child duty and Corrie hadn’t come north to play nanny. Although she’d be a great one.

  “I know. But wait, Heath. It gets worse.”

  He watched his friend struggle for words, and Heath was pretty sure he didn’t want to hear whatever Jace was going to say next.

  “I’m leaving.”

  Heath swallowed hard. Jace was great on the ranch, but ranching wasn’t his primary job. He was a skilled carpenter: he’d overseen the building of the last two barns and he’d honed his reputation on Pine Ridge properties, but with the area’s diminishing population, there weren’t enough jobs to keep him busy. And he was Heath’s closest friend.

  “I love working here and living here,” Jace went on. His gaze wandered the ranch, then lingered on the hills beyond. “My family helped build this town over a hundred years ago, and there weren’t too many black ranchers in these parts. Or anywhere. But things have gone downhill and I’ve got to go where there’s work. I’m going to sell my parents’ place and use that money to pay off Justine’s schooling and stake my business.”

  His parents had passed away just over a year apart when Justine started college three years before. “You going to Sun Valley?”

  “Where else?”

  The rising fortunes of the picturesque central valley had drawn a lofty tourism trade while home values pitched up. Folks in Sun Valley would have the means to hire a guy like Jace and pay him what he was worth.

  “I’ve looked the situation over every which way, but it seems like the only option on the table right about now. It’ll take some time to sell our place,” he added. “There aren’t folks lined up to buy houses around here, so plan on me being here at least a month. Maybe more. I’m sorry, Heath.” Jace tipped his cowboy hat back slightly. “This wasn’t how I saw things going. We’ve been friends for a dozen years, and I never thought it would go down like this but my hands are tied.”

  They’d had plans as younger men. Thoughts about how to resuscitate the town, how to bring back jobs and hope. But the plans went on hold as the ranch grew. Sean’s vision and dreams kept them both busy, and they’d forged ahead without seeing the whole picture. Now it was too late.

  “I get it, Jace. You know I do. A man’s got to have work and you’re too good a builder to spend your life running sheep.”

  “I like working the ranch well enough. I’d like to have my own spread someday, a Middleton ranch like my great-grandpa had. That was always my dream.” Jace shrugged. “But I’m meant to hold a hammer and run a saw, and I knew that from the time my daddy taught me everything he’d learned. It’s not even just wanting to do it. It’s needing to do it. I just never thought I’d be doing it away from here.”

  Heath understood completely. It wasn’t about the money or the power of heading up a high-priced property. It was about taking the right trail to get where you were going.

  Lizzie texted just then. Maybe labor, maybe not. Nothing much happening. Will keep you posted.

  OK, he texted back,

  “I’ll turn the established pairs onto the meadow.” Once a ewe established her little family with strong nursing instincts, they were turned onto a select nearby pasture to eat, grow and socialize, making room for more newborn lambs. Head down, Jace moved toward the lambing shed.

  Heath turned toward the stables. Lizzie didn’t need him if the horse wasn’t laboring, and he had plenty to do, but he owed her an apology for his outburst the day before. She’d put a light in his son’s eyes, and he’d squelched things by hitting the panic button. Now he had to eat his words because Rosie wouldn’t be able to watch Zeke for weeks.

  He texted Cookie to keep an eye on Zeke for the time being. That meant the little guy had to stay inside on a brilliant spring day because Cookie had jobs to do.

  Guilt rose within him but that had become more normal than not. Did all single parents face these dilemmas? He wouldn’t know because he’d become very good at insulating himself. Just like Sean.

  He walked into the barn, crossed to the office wing and tapped on Lizzie’s door. She turned, surprised, then pointed up toward the monitor on the wall. “Nothing much happening. Didn’t you get my text?”

  “I did.” He walked into the room, shoved his hands into his pockets, then pulled them right back out again. “I didn’t come because of the mare. I came to apologize.”

  * * *

  Apologize? She stood, faced him, then folded her arms. “I’m listening.”

  Gorgeous eyes gazed into hers, as if searching.

  “I was out of line yesterday and I’m sorry.”

  She lifted a brow slightly but stayed quiet because he was right. He was out of line and no one got to treat her that way. Ever.

  “I should have been glad you took Zeke for a ride. I know your skills, I know your instincts, I know you. I let old buttons get pushed and that was plain stupid.”

  Still she waited, unwilling to offer him help or absolution.

  “It’s been crazy busy here, not just since Sean died but since he got sick. I haven’t had time to do things I should with Zeke, and Rosie had her hands full. She was pregnant and watching Zeke and a set of twins.”

  “Zeke told me about the twins. I think he felt trapped because Rosie was busy and he couldn’t do too much outside.”

  “Rosie said as much. I just figured it would all work out in time, but it didn’t. It was winter and then Sean started to go downhill. That increased the workload on me, but I did it at the expense of my son. Now I’m not sure how to undo any of it.”

  “Delegate?”

  He brought his chin up quickly.

  “You trust the people working with you to handle vital things, but when it comes to Zeke, fear gets in the way. Trust more and worry less,” she told him.

  “Easier said than done.”

  She laughed. He scowled, and that only made her laugh more. “You know those birds of the air? The fish in the sea? Those sparrows that God cares for every single day? Be more like them,” she suggested. “Trust. Reach out. There is life beyond Pine Ridge Ranch, just like there was life beyond Fitzgerald News. It’s a question of exploring it. Then embracing it.”

  She glanced up at the monitor, saw nothing of note, and eased a hip onto the office desk. “Zeke loves being on the ranch. He’s a born cowboy. But he could use some time with his daddy to figure out how to be the best cowboy he can be. And if you can’t take him with you off the ranch because time is short right now, make him your sidekick. When it’s safe. It will do you both good. And while I appreciate the apology...” She moved a step closer, determined to make her point. “Nobody gets to go off on me like that, Heath. Ever. Don’t do it again.”

  If her reprimand surprised him, he didn’t show it. “I won’t. Most of the time.” He sent her a rueful grin, a look she remembered like it was yesterday, the kind of grin that stole a young girl’s heart. “I get stupid about Zeke sometimes.”

  “Loving your child isn’t stupid. It’s how it’s supposed to be. Every kid in the world should have at least one parent who loves them.”

 
Sympathy softened his jaw. His gaze. “Your father’s a moron, Lizzie. And selfish. I’m sorry he messed you girls up.”

  “We’re educated. We’re smart. We’ll be okay. But he cost over a thousand people their jobs and their pensions while he lives the life of a rich man in Dubai on stolen capital. That’s indefensible. And he got away with it.” She frowned. “I honestly don’t know how he lives with himself.”

  “And that’s why Sean named you three women in the will. He couldn’t believe what his brother did to you. How he left the three of you holding the bag and some pretty stiff college loans for Charlotte and Mel.”

  She was tired of rehashing her father’s misdeeds. “Just be glad you ended up working for this Fitzgerald brother. That he gave you a chance. Because I can see you love this place, Heath.”

  “It saved me.” He turned his gaze outward. “I owe Sean and I owe this ranch, and no one expected him to get sick. To die. So the fact that he left me part of all this humbles me. And challenges me. So yeah.” He stood, tall and strong, shoulders back. “I love it. And I have to do whatever it takes to continue its success.”

  “That’s when I call on my faith,” she told him quietly. “To give me the strength I need.”

  He looked at her. Right at her. And he didn’t blink an eye. “The work of human hands has gotten me a whole lot farther than some intangible belief system. Diving in, getting things done, staying the course.”

  “Except that you were just in church with me a couple of hours ago. Somehow this doesn’t compute.”

  “I always take Zeke to church. His mother isn’t here to do it, so I do it in her place. She’d have wanted me to. It was important to her.”

  But not to him.

  The ring he still wore on his left hand gleamed brighter when a stray sunbeam hit the corner of the office window. It made a perfect reminder for Lizzie.