She took the grocery bag and, mentally smacking herself, climbed from the truck. Closing the door gently, she glanced at the dark house, relieved that no one seemed awake. She needed to think things through. Maybe he just needs some time to process what happened? Or maybe you’re living on a cloud, Angelique, and its time you got your feet on the ground. The roar of his truck made her wince as he drove off. She tiptoed up the front porch steps.
“You’ve been with Dalton Kinnison?” a voice issued from the front porch swing. It was her Aunt Rebecca, still awake and waiting, it appeared, for her.
“We met at the grocery store, drove around a bit and talked. That’s all.” Angelique stood poised at the front door. She was no longer a child, but that did not quell the sense that she’d just acted like an idiot schoolgirl.
“Surprised he spoke to you. We haven’t had contact with any of the Kinnisons since Wyatt let go the majority of the crew Jed had out there for years. It was difficult for your uncle, being Jed’s right hand man and closest friend.”
She hesitated, her hand on the doorknob. “Don’t worry, Aunt Rebecca. I won’t be seeing him again.” She faced her then, plastering an overly bright smile on her face. “Besides, I have a great guy waiting for me back in Chicago, remember?”
A long stretch of silence followed.
“You’ve not spoken much about your mother since you’ve been here.”
“You mean your sister?” Bitterness scalded her tongue.
“She was your mother Angelique.”
“She was a worthless, strung-out piece of crap,” she blurted out in anger.
Her aunt leaped from the chair and in two strides stood nose-to-nose with her.
Angelique held her ground. “You can’t possibly think to defend her, not now, not after everything,” Angelique snapped. Hurt. Angry. Reeling still from Dalton’s dismissal. Why should she care? Was he any better than the man who waited for her back home? Home. Hell, where was that?
Rebecca’s gaze softened. Her hands framed Angelique’s face as she spoke. “We don’t get to pick the family we’re born to.” Her voice lowered, soft and soothing. “But we all have choices—some good, some bad. You can think everyone is out to make a fool of you and everyone else is to blame. Eventually, you’re the one who ends up fooling yourself. Learn from her mistakes, Angelique, but do not become embittered by them.”
Angelique stared at her aunt’s kind brown eyes shimmering in the pale yard light. How many times had she been left there when her mother would have leave on business trips, some of them more than a week? Angelique grew up doing chores on the farm, learning to cook at her aunt’s side. They’d given her a life. Perspective has a funny way of providing clarity. “I know, Aunt Rebecca. I hear you.” She drew the woman close, grateful for the closeness, for all she’d taught her. And realized suddenly how her aunt seemed smaller and more frail than she remembered.
Chapter Three
“What do you think?” Rein waited to get feedback from the rest of the group gathered around the Kinnison dinner table. Built by Rein to accommodate their family meals, its dual purpose now served family meetings.
Dalton downed his second cup of coffee, needing the caffeine after a number of sleepless nights. Each time he ran into Angelique, it became harder to put behind him the memories he’d fought long and hard to forget. He stared at the flat screen television hung on one wall of the dining room. Wired up to a new security system, the television by decree of Aimee, would not be on during meals, but was useful at other times in providing surveillance of several areas of the house and property. Wyatt insisted on installing the system after the arson incident, sighting that it would be beneficial as added security for cabin tenants as well.
The video they’d just previewed showed an advertisement created by Liberty to showcase the Last Hope ranch, its mission, and amenities, including trail rides, nature hikes, and fishing. Liberty retrieved the DVD and scanned the faces at the table. “Well?”
Rein glanced at his business partner and new wife, smiling at her with a wink.
Aimee placed baby Grace over her shoulder and gently rocked her side to side. “I think it’s beautiful. What are your plans for it?”
Liberty’s eyes lit up. “First we connect with the chamber in town, get them on board with our project. Then maybe make copies of this DVD and send it out to various hospitals and tourism sites along with our brochure. We could build up to magazines, online advertising, radio, and who knows, maybe television spots?”
“The idea,” Rein interjected, “is to get the word out about the ranch. We’ve gotten all the formal paperwork in place, so now we can focus on our mission for the ranch. How to make it what Jed envisioned.”
“A place for second chances.” Wyatt tapped his finger on the table.
“A place for people to heal both physically and emotionally,” Rein added.
“If I may address the topic of physical healing?” Michael Greyfeather spoke in his calm, quiet way.
Rein nodded. “Absolutely.”
“My purpose here is to care for the overflow of recovered horses from the Mountain Sunrise Ranch. And they are indeed grateful for your generosity in allowing the horses to be cared for here until forever families can adopt them. However, since learning that the first guest of the Last Hope Ranch is a wounded war veteran, I feel I may be able to offer something more.”
“Go on.” Rein sat forward, listening intently.
“As it happens, I am a certified equine therapist and before coming back to the ranch to assist here, I was on a team at Mountain Sunrise that offers a similar program to what I think you may be discussing here.”
Puzzled, Dalton looked at Michael, his brown skin leathered from years in the sun. “When did you have time to get certified?”
Michael smiled and glanced at Wyatt. “It is no secret that I have dedicated my life to working with horses. I trained the first horses Jed ever gave you boys and I continued to break horses and care for neglected horses long before it became a popular accreditation. After your uncle passed and the ranch crew downsized, I decided to check into training. Much of that training was no more than an affirmation of all that’d I’d been taught growing up on the reservation. But it helped me to network with people who used horse therapy as a tool for healing. What I have come to know is that the broken spirit of a horse is not far different from the spirit of a person. Horses can feel more than you realize and can be highly effective in the healing process.”
Rein straightened in his chair. “This is amazing. It’s exactly what we need.” He turned to Wyatt. “I propose that we make Michael head of our equine therapy. Dalton”--he looked at his brother--“you could help him, and maybe get trained yourself.”
Dalton had followed the conversation, and while he agreed that it sounded like something that Jed would have wanted, he wasn’t sure if it was a good fit for him. There’d been days lately when he felt more of a candidate for the Last Hope Ranch than one of its co-owners.
“If this is a direction you’d like to pursue, I can check with the owner of Sunrise and see if they’d be willing to come down and look at our facility. Perhaps they could lend us a horse trained to handle our special guests.”
Wyatt broke his silence, his gaze staying on Michael. “I owe you an apology, Michael, one that’s long overdue. When Jed died, I let everyone go. I nearly lost the ranch. It wasn’t a good time and it was poor judgment on my part.”
“Wyatt,” Michael responded with quiet diligence. “Had circumstances not been what they were, I might never have had the incentive to follow through. To be honest, it was Rebecca’s idea. I think she tired of me being underfoot.” Kindness showed in his easy smile. “Nothing is ever wasted if something good can come of it. Jed would understand. And now we have come full circle and are in a better place to help build a future and do some good.”
Wyatt rose and pulled the old man into a bear hug. The two men patted each other on the back.
“I
have asked Angelique to stop down later today to look at a one of the horses. She has been at my side and has worked with a variety of equine since she was old enough to ride. Perhaps she, too, would have time to volunteer on weekends.”
“Oh, then you have to ask Sally, too.” Aimee piped up. “She’d love that. Especially if it involved trail rides for kids. She’s about the most patient person I know.” Grace squawked, signaling the need for a diaper change. “If you’ll excuse me.” She smiled and rose from the table, unable to leave until Wyatt kissed his daughter’s rose-petal cheek.
“Let me help you.” Liberty skirted around the table with a gleeful smile as she followed Aimee.
“Oh, honey, be sure to remind everyone about what we need for the BBQ next Saturday, and be sure to show them plans for the new fire pit.” Aimee puckered her lips and gave Wyatt a wink.
“New fire pit?” Rein turned his focus on Wyatt.
“Later.” Wyatt looked at Dalton. “You haven’t said a whole lot. What do you think?”
Dalton was sure he could handle the horse end of things, the repairs, and the daily upkeep of the cabins and property. Hell, maybe even the training if it came to that, but having Angelique here underfoot on weekends? That, he wasn’t sure about. “Excuse me, I need a refill.”
He pushed from the table and escaped to the kitchen. Filling his cup, he pondered the wisdom of topping it with a touch of whiskey. He took in the view of pristine summer sky framing the mountains and thought back to high school and the girl he’d seen that day on his way home.
He’d just gotten his driver’s license and had been at baseball practice in town. He’d hung around a little too long showing off the old, beat-up truck the three boys shared and realized it was getting late to do his chores before supper. Jed was strict that chores came before anyone ate. Fortunately, there was an old gravel road just past Dusty’s Bar that provided a shortcut home. As he came around the bend, probably driving too fast, he spotted a figure hunched forward on a dark-colored horse. The rider, bent forward, rode as though being chased by a demon. He recognized the long, dark braid belonging to Angelique, Michael Greyfeather’s shy young niece, who he thought was maybe a grade or two behind him in school, though he hadn’t ever paid much attention…until now. Fascinated, he slowed the truck, nearly driving off into the ditch as he watched her handle the horse--confident, determined, and fearless. Something stirred in his gut. She wasn’t his type, yet she stayed in his thoughts long after he’d gotten home that night, leaving him totally puzzled. Much as she’d done since coming back to End of the Line.
“Are you having second thoughts about the plans for the ranch?”
Pulled back to the present, Dalton shrugged and turned to face Rein standing at the kitchen door. “Nope. Jed started this place as a cattle ranch, ran it like that for years. The fact that he wrote down his thoughts for renaming it the Last Hope Ranch makes me think that he knew the cattle industry was struggling—at least in the way he’d always known it to be.” Dalton looked down at his cup, no longer desiring the coffee. “He did it because of us—you, me, and Wyatt. He took the three of us”--Dalton looked out the window and took a steadying breath before continuing--“and saw something in how he and this ranch changed us, made us better, gave us purpose. He thought exposure here for other folks would produce the same results. I get that. I’m grateful for it.”
Rein walked in, leaned against the counter, and folded his arms over his chest. “So what is it, then?”
“Hey, what are you two plotting now?” Wyatt reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a tub of fresh blueberries. He nudged Rein aside, grabbed a bowl, and filled it.
Rein released a quiet sigh. “Just trying to see what’s wrong with little Lucy over here.” He tipped his head toward Dalton.
Wyatt’s gaze darted to Dalton. “Tell me you aren’t involved with that pool shark blonde from Billings again. That woman stalked you for weeks.”
Dalton frowned. “Damn, would you two give me a break?”
A berry pinged him on the forehead and he swatted at it, throwing Wyatt a stern look. “Don’t start with me, Wyatt.” Another berry whizzed past him. “All right, that does it.” Dalton searched for the first thing he could lay his hands on. A tea towel hanging on a hook was the best he could do. He tried rolling it in his hands, ready to snap his brother. Rein stood off to the side, doubled over in laughter.
Aimee appeared at the kitchen door, baby Grace cradled in her arms. “Wyatt Kinnison, where are my—are you throwing my blueberries at your brother?”
“Busted,” Dalton said with a grin and returned the towel to its place.
Aimee stuck her hand out and, with a chagrined look, Wyatt handed her the bowl. Eyeing the three of them, she turned on her heel and walked out.
“She’s been eating blueberries by the ton,” Dalton commented after she left.
Wyatt shrugged and popped a last berry in his mouth. “Nuts, water, oatmeal, snow peas, eggs…she claims it’s supposed to increase lactation.”
“As in nursing, you mean?” Dalton baited his brother with a wicked grin.
“You don’t want to go there,” Wyatt warned.
“Hey, paybacks are hell.” He grinned. “So does this mean you know that you’re off limits until she finishes nursing?”
Wyatt straightened his gaze firm on his brother. “Are you seriously asking this?”
Dalton shrugged. Honestly, he found it a viable question. One he might tuck away for future reference.
“And you think my photos of childbirth are sick?”
“Hey, it’s an honest question,” Rein interjected on Dalton’s behalf.
Dalton nodded his appreciation toward Rein.
“Shut up.” Wyatt turned to Rein. “Besides, I’m pretty sure the conversation you two were having wasn’t about my wife’s breasts.”
“Honey?” Aimee stood again in the doorway, curiosity etched on her face. “What’s going on?”
Wyatt narrowed his gaze on Dalton as he placed his arm around his wife’s shoulder. “Just my idiot brothers, sweetheart. Pay no attention to them.”
“Hey, don’t call me an idiot,” Rein called after the departing pair. His gaze swung back to Dalton. “Clever, by the way, how you managed to side-step answering my question.”
Dalton blew out a sigh. “Did you ever feel like you weren’t sure if you belonged somewhere?”
“Sit,” Rein ordered pointing to a kitchen chair. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
Reluctantly, he slid in the chair and folded his hands on the table.
“Go on. I’m listening.”
Dalton stared for a moment at his hands uncertain he could put into words how he felt without sounding like a whiny-ass baby. Hearts-to-heart were not his thing. He’d just as soon take his fishing pole, head up to the cabin in the woods that Jed had built for hunting and sort things out on his own. But this was different. He didn’t know how to shake these feelings roiling around inside him. He didn’t know how to shake his memories of her.
“So, is it the plans for the ranch not suiting you, or something else?”
He and Rein, closer in age, had gone off to college together while Wyatt stayed back and ran the ranch—nearly into the ground, but that wasn’t the point just now. The pair had gone on after graduation to handle the cattle sales, spending long hours looking over contracts, negotiating the best prices to restaurants and the like for their cattle. But when it came to personal issues, Rein nearly had to pry it out of Dalton.
He glanced at Rein. Though he was the older sibling, it seemed Dalton found himself coming to his younger brother for advice. “It’s not the ranch, the horses, or the cabins,” Dalton stated.
“Well, then it must be a woman.” Rein knocked his fist on the table. “And since I know it’s not Sally, I’m guessing it’s Angelique.”
“You’re nuts.” Dalton wondered if he was that transparent.
“Listen, I know something happened b
etween you two.”
“What are you talking about?” Dalton hadn’t breathed a word to anyone about the night he and Angelique had shared. “Who told you, Sally?”
“Look,” Rein held up his hand. “Before you go all Clint Eastwood on Sally’s ass, she doesn’t know details. But let’s face it, it’s been no secret that since the wedding you’ve been avoiding the woman like the plague.” He studied Dalton. “Something you’d like to talk about in that department?”
Dalton held his brother’s gaze. “No.”
Rein eyed him a moment more, sighed, and looked away. “Fine. So you’re good with her working around here a bit more?”
Dalton scratched at a nick on the Formica tabletop. “Sure.” He heard Rein snort.
“You’re lying through your teeth and this may be something you want to work out alone, I get that. But what I am more concerned about is this ‘unsure if you belong here’ shit.”
“I didn’t say here, I said somewhere.”
“Right. So explain it to me, because I’m about ready to bust a chair over your head if you don’t.”
He shoved away from the table and stalked to the back door, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He remembered barbecues, times when the three would sit out on the deck after supper and look at the stars; the times Jed let them go up to the hunting cabin to sleep over. As oldest, the ranch belonged to Wyatt, though they shared in its upkeep. The cabins had become Rein’s project, though Dalton had helped build them, but he realized lately that he’d spent most of his life since college looking for a good time. He hadn’t given much thought to the fact that one day it might catch up to him. Hell, the other day in the mirror he’d seen traces of silver woven into his dark hair. “What have I done with my life?” Frustration laced with his words.
“What?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “You heard me. You and Wyatt. You have the ranch and the cabins, you both have wives and families—well, prospects, anyway.” He raked his hand through his hair, suddenly feeling years older.
“You’re serious?” Rein asked.
Renegade Hearts (The Kinnison Legacy Book 3) Page 4