by Tanya Hanson
“Well, we’re sure glad you can join us this trip. And wait ‘til you taste Kelley’s lunch.”
Ah, Kelley. Rather than stew over her now as he’d done since midnight, Jason did the raised-chin salute at the group of wide-eyed tourists and tried to act like he really belonged here. Likely he still had time to back out. But he couldn’t. Not if Kelley was going along. Like a moth heading straight for the candle flame, he couldn’t resist the bright heat at her side.
Scott hurried on to another chore, leaving Jason still standing in awe. A kid about ten dashed up to him, waggling a Hearts Crossing Ranch brochure. “So you’re a Martin, right? Which one are you? Hooper? Kennedy? Pike, Scott…Bragg.” His huge smile exposed missing teeth shadowed by the brim of a pristine felt cowboy hat. Likely it had been bought minutes ago at the Hearts Crossing gift shop run by Daisy’s mom. “I know you’re not one of the girls.” He howled.
“Nope. I’m a wrangler. Not family.” For some reason, saying the last two words kind of hurt. It would have been nice growing up with folks like this, with your own roots, your own land. Folks who loved you and stuck with you no matter what. He pointed out some of the brothers as the kid laid his finger on faces on the glossy paper.
“That’s Hooper, our wagon master,” he told the kid. “Kennedy, nope. He’s not here this time around. He’s teaching summer school. Scott…he’s a cowboy and web-designer both. He’ll be coming along.”
“Cool.” The kid’s eyes actually sparkled. “Computer and cowboy. Awesome.”
Jason grinned at him and babbled on about Scott and Pike and Bragg, surprised how well he knew the Martin men after these few months, how they’d taken him into the fold, made him a friend. Something he’d rarely done elsewhere, stuck around, that is, to maintain the friendships he’d made.
“Guess you could say I’m a family friend.” Those words hurt too in a way, because that’s all Kelley wanted him to be.
Knife in the heart…
“Who’s that girl?” The kid asked, pointing at her mini-pic.
“Their sister, Kelley.” Jason pointed over at the chuck wagon, his heart jumping a hundred times before he could talk again. “I hear tell she’s a mighty good cook. Who are you?”
“Rhys.”
“Well, howdy, Rhys. I’m Jason.” He touched two fingers to his brim. “There’s a dog, too!” the boy shouted and ran after Bryce.
Well, Jason couldn’t stop himself from seeking out Kelley. Like invisible ropes pulled him, he headed to the chuck wagon all hitched and ready to go. Alternately feeling like a man off to his execution and a man in love.
He stopped in his tracks so quick his Stetson bobbled. In case anybody was watching, meaning Kelley of course, he got to his knees and pretended he’d dropped something in the dirt. In love?
Attraction was all. Settling down, he righted himself and plastered a fake grin on his face, but started a dumb tremble as her smile covered him like a warm sunrise.
“Hey, cowboy. Wanna ride with me? I could use some company,” she called down from the seat.
All she did was offer friendship. He read her eyes right as rain and saw no romantic ending. But he better not. His head had just told him he was in love. He didn’t dare let his heart in on the scoop.
Then he remembered the moth-flame cliché and knew he didn’t stand a chance at refusing.
“I guess so.” He ambled on over. At least he could discuss the draft horses faintly intelligently after his recent conversation with her brother. “But I think I already promised Zee.”
Let her beg for his company.
“Stepping out on me, huh?” Kelley smiled, and he promised himself he saw a flicker in those green-speckled eyes. So he gathered up his courage and stared her down. Even with the din surrounding them, he lowered his voice. Maybe so she wouldn’t hear after all.
“Kelley, I think there’s a place in your heart where nobody’s been. I’d like to be there.”
Although her eyes widened in surprise, maybe shock, she didn’t turn away. Those green flecks danced up and down him, but courage rather than discomfort flared. At least she wasn’t indifferent to him.
“But you won’t stay. Maybe that’s why I keep the door closed.” Finally she glanced down at her hands clasping the driving reins. “Now, you going to clamber on up or what?”
Why not?
“I’m clambering.” Hopping up took no effort at all. Atop the early breeze full of ranch scent and dewdrop, her perfume filled him, and he couldn’t get enough of it.
“Wow. You smell good.”
“Thanks kindly. I do shower every morning.” Her feisty grin would have brought him to his knees even though he realized the teasing was the same style of sass she tossed at her brothers. “But I will say it’s a perfume made of olive leaves Caffey’s friend is trying to market. We sell it in the gift shop.”
Sounded like something to get Snowy for whatever holiday she did celebrate. “I like it.”
“Thanks. And I did bring a bottle along for the trail. Baby wipes, too. Hard to get a shower in. There’s always a dip in Old Joe’s Hole, though.”
“Is that an invitation?” he asked, suddenly bold because her eyes really said so.
She shrugged. “Only if I get some ‘kitchen’ help and can take the time.”
“You’re on.”
Then her eyes narrowed. “Swimming or cooking?”
“Both. If you’ll have me.”
Her blush answered him without words. She did want him, did want to be around him. Was it true he really didn’t want to be around for long? Was Kelley Martin the woman who would finally make him stay?
“I will.” At last she looked away, cheeks pink as dawn clouds, ripe for a butterfly kiss. But he was spared further words or feelings or actions because the trail boss took his position.
“Let the wagons roll,” Hooper called out.
The wagon train started off, Kelley taking her place last in line, ahead of the remuda of trail horses. Including Zee.
She explained. “A lot of the city slickers will end up riding from camp to camp. Our big old horses are accustomed to beginners. But unless they’re riders to start with, most folks will wait for the inspiration. You could lead a trail ride if you want. I’ve seen you sit a horse.”
From the softening voice and the way she tucked her head farther under her brim, he reckoned she’d liked what she saw, and he reckoned his head had just let his heart in on the scoop.
All around them, wagon wheels thundered as the mighty horses did the job they loved best. Mountains high gleamed bright with the last of winter snow, and aspen groves proudly shook their summer green as range merged with hills. Under the glow of the sun, the air warmed around them.
“We’re still on Hearts Crossing land,” Kelley said and broke the silence which Jason realized had been completely comfortable, “but we have permits to enter and camp in the national forest.”
Handing him the reins, she shrugged out of her denim jacket, revealing a pink tank top. And a tat.
He smiled, holding down the urge to touch her arm. This was no down-home bumpkin, not with skin art, tank top, and stylin’ boots. “I like it. Ranch brand, right?”
“Yep.” She fingered the tattoo of two entwined hearts with a cross at the intersection. Sort of like a Venn diagram. Now he couldn’t help it. He placed his forefinger over hers, and she let it stay. Heart thrummed, breath stopped. Not wanting to seem greedy or untoward, though, he lifted his hand a split second later and stuck it in his vest pocket.
She cleared her throat. “For generations, all this was called Martin’s Crossroad.” At least her voice sounded a tad shaky, and it wasn’t just the rough road.”Before the state highway went through, a gravel road from town was the only way to get to the ranch, and the crossroad led to Sunset Hills. But Ma, well, you know her. She changed things up when she inherited the place.”
“How?”
“Got herself educated and fixed up the finances. Didn’t marry th
e neighbor who wanted to merge lands. Waited for our Pa. Got him to change his name.” Her voice changed, and she looked at him. “Got him to stay. You would have loved him. He was a great guy.”
He was a great guy. You would have loved him…could he say the same about the man who was his father? But at least his folks had given him life. He had to grant them that—him—an unexpected conception in their free-love world. Snowy and September had done the best they could, he reckoned.
Maybe it was time for him to do better. As the wagons rumbled past a tunnel of alder, he saw a vision of Kelley at his side, at the end of his life, brusque and take-charge like her mother. But here, in Colorado. Not some way-out place like Uzbekistan or Moldova. And yep, kids and grandkids galore.
“Faith as well as love were the things that first got my parents together,” Kelly said, bringing him back to the present. “They lived their lives with Jesus at their sides. Love and Faith, they called it. So they renamed the ranch and registered a new brand.”
Her words, and the actions of her parents, touched him deep down, to his soul, truth to tell. The verse from yesterday, about encouraging one another and building them up, he realized, wasn’t meant for him in the way he’d first thought. He had no reason to stick his nose in Kelley’s decisions, no right. She had enough sense of her own.
The words were meant for him. Kelley, the entire Martin clan was building him up, encouraging him to find himself and his own faith in the God that led them. They wanted him to find the Truth, not feed off a rootless childhood with scattered creeds from this religion and that.
“Yep,” Kelley continued as though he hadn’t had a significant thought just now. “They believed the Lord works in mysterious ways to perform His wonders. You see, Pa was just passing through, ranch to ranch, doing spring roundups and branding. But first time he saw Ma, he felt a spark from head to toe. Said he knew then and there she was the one for him and he’d do all it took to stay at her side.” She chuckled out loud. “Without him even knowing about it, that same day she broke up with the rancher who wanted to marry her.”
Then she shouted to Bryce who had gone after a ground squirrel and pointed out a white starry flower growing along the road that looked like any daisy, but she called it blackfoot.
Anything, Jason guessed, to get away from the dangerous word, marry. Her extra rosy cheeks allowed him to think he’d thought correctly. Yet…her folks’ world had stopped the second they found each other. And again he knew Kelley hadn’t told him the family story to hint at anything. It was just a fact of life for the Martins.
So unlike the Easterdays. Well, one thing he and Kelley had in common besides attraction was food. Hoping his voice sounded normal, not shaky or nerve-squeaky, he found courage to talk. “So what’s on for lunch?”
Another blinding smile. And it wasn’t from too much tooth whitening either. Her joy for life simply reflected the sun. Something had happened this morning to lessen her sadness over her restaurant troubles.
And did he dare think…him as well? She sure wasn’t pushing him away right now.
“‘Vaquero Salad.’ Many ingredients from Ma’s garden. Regular with plenty of beef or chicken. Or vegetarian. My personal all-organic and fat-free green olive balsamic dressing.” She winked at him. “We’ve got a couple of vegetarians on this trip. Oh, and plenty of nut bread with homemade raspberry butter.”
“Homemade?”
She flushed again. “Me.”
“Sounds like dessert.”
“You’d think, but no. That would be chocolate chip cookies. My Grim-Gram’s recipe and the best in the world.”
He wanted to say something corny, like her being the best dessert in the world, but it was too comfortable sitting next to her to mess things up. Too tranquil, here in the wilds of ranchland and Front Range forest, pine and spruce singing with wind and a hawk swooping down for his lunch to the delighted crowing of two dozen city slickers. Talking about food and grandmothers. He gave in to the urge to sit closer, thrilled she didn’t scoot away.
“How much farther?” he asked, almost drowsily content even with the rolling wagon wheels that jumped over rocks once in a while.
“Up ahead.” Kelley said. “See the picnic tables and fire ring? I’ve got some portable tables, too, for bigger groups like this one. You can help put ‘em up.”
“At your service, milady.” He doffed his hat, and she made him breathless with another dazzler of a smile.
As soon as the wagon pulled up, he jumped off, not waiting until she parked it near a stand of frees. “I’ll be back for those tables in a minute,” he told her, assuring her he wasn’t running off, but needed time alone before he said something he doubted she’d want to hear, mostly something like them needing to be together.
The “in love” thing he’d save for some other time.
Satisfaction all but smothered him. For he knew there’d be some other time.
7
Ma was simply too wise. Kelly had listened to her and not discounted the sparkles.
Singing some Reba as she pulled lunch fixin’s from her wagon, Kelley positioned herself so she could enjoy the eye candy of Jason putting up the portable tables. Quick, easy, he looked like he’d done so a million times. Well, maybe he had. She chuckled. She had no idea exactly what fixtures composed a commune. Beneath his khaki long-sleeved shirt and snug Wranglers, his muscles moved lusciously, and her blood surged at the sight.
A commune, huh? She dumped ingredients in a massive wooden bowl and considered. What had his life been like, on the run, no firm foundation? No crazy, annoying, fabulous, indispensible siblings? No parents who had committed for better or worse?
Just like Ma with Pa, Kelley had discovered deep down that Hearts Crossing Ranch was just what Jason needed. Not just for now, but forever. Roots and hard work, in-laws and outlaws, supper together and Wednesday devotions, the faith in Jesus that made you whole. All things goofy, nutty and wonderful that made up a family. And as she sprinkled homegrown dried blueberries across the vegetables, she knew Ma’s reminder about leaning on God had been just what she’d needed to hear.
A vision of Jason old and gray at her side had begun to grow since four twenty-eight this morning. Once again, Ma had been right. Not only about the sparkles, but also that God’s Word never returns void. He does provide, and surely that meant providing the bread of life to Jason. Kelley’s own faith might have taken a beating of late, but since yesterday, the love and faith, those foundations of Hearts Crossing, had taken hold of her again. She’d suspected she’d feel better, coming home, and she’d been right.
She tossed her specialty dressing in everyday mayonnaise jars. Truth was, God had never let down anybody. He might say no, He might reply not now, even not ever. He might allow sorrow and tribulation—and He had, but for one reason only, to teach that He alone had the power to sustain you in the troublesome day to day, to provide you with all you needed, in the here and now—and most importantly, forever in Heaven.
There hadn’t ever yet been a child of God who didn’t roil on the seas of earthly storms. Today, here under the same sun that blessed Hearts Crossing Ranch for more than a century, Kelley realized she weathered such a storm. If Vegeterra wasn’t deigned to be long for this world, God would lead her down another path.
And just maybe He had led her home. For the past few years, she’d been busy as a sous chef in Denver or working her fingers off in Sunset Hills. Maybe this time, she was to stay put. Start the next chapter. She knew in her heart if God said no to Vegeterra, He wasn’t saying not ever. Just not now, not there. The year’s experience as a businesswoman as well as chef had certainly taught Kelley an abundance of new lessons in finance and recipes. She knew she hadn’t wasted her time.
Thank you, Heavenly Father.
“Looks good.” Jason said at her side, his chore completed. Her heart all but exploded.
“Thanks.” She had made the artfully arranged salad a hundred times, but Jason’s compliment, as he
helped lay out the platters of cheese, sliced chicken breast and baskets of bread and cookies suddenly meant the most of all. “Tonight we’ll have a hot meal. I’ll probably need some strong shoulders to keep the home fires burning under my Dutch ovens.” She looked sideways through her eyelashes in an age-old flirtation.
“Once again, at your service…”
“…milady.” Kelley laughed, Jason did, too, and how well the sounds meshed together. Around them, the tourists explored snake holes and wildflowers, some even eager to try horseback riding from here to their overnight stop in view of Elk Grove. Hoop directed the lunch line, and already hungry ooh’s and aah’s rang through the camp. Kelley’s own tummy rumbled, but she reckoned some of it was Jason.
Before her brothers and other wranglers did the serving buffet-style, Hooper spoke up.
“One of our traditions at Hearts Crossing is saying grace before our meals. Now, I want you to know no one needs to participate if y’all are uncomfortable. But it seems most folks like to join in.”
“Hear, hear,” somebody called out, and Kelley nodded. Their tours weren’t faith-based as a whole, but because of their brand, most folks expected something spiritual, and Hooper always complied, making prayers optional of course, as well as fireside devotions before bedtime.
Everybody in sight, down to the smallest six-year old, David, bowed heads and folded hands. Jason included. Over the wind, her oldest brother spoke clear. “From Psalm thirty-four, verse eight. ‘Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed are all who trust in Him!’ Lord, we thank You for the beauty of Your world, for the animals who help us, for the pleasure of each other’s company, and for the gift of this food. In Your name…”
Hoop hesitated for a second so all could join in. “Amen.” And Jason’s voice was the loudest.
“Come on, you get a load off,” Hoop ordered her. As wagon master and host, he tended to eat on the run so he could mingle with the guests while they dined. And well, Kelley needed her energy and a good night’s sleep. She’d be up before dawn loading up Dutch ovens with bacon, gravy, and biscuits. And grilling French toast for the vegetarians. “Jason, get her rested and fed. And fill your belly, too. The Wild West bug has infected the group. About twenty of them want to ride the next four miles to camp. I’ll need you to help guide.”