by Tanya Hanson
“Oh, Jason. I wanted it to be you. But I reckoned you still on the wagon train.”
He grinned down at her, remembering the collusion of Hooper and Daisy. Even her mother. Someday he’d tell her about their matchmaking, but right now, he had more important things to say. “I wanted to stay. But I wanted to be with you more.”
“Jason, are you sure? It’s been a tough few days…”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. And it’s not just me. I know God led me here. To you.”
“To everything, there is a purpose,” she murmured against his chest. “I didn’t want to leave either. But Ned…”
“You had to. It’s OK. I’d kinda like you on my team if I needed something.”
Kelley looked up at him. “I’m glad I stayed. He needed a friend. And that’s all I was, Jason. All I felt. I missed you like the other half I didn’t know I needed.”
“I know what you mean. These past days have been surreal almost. Figuring out what I needed most when I thought I didn’t need anything at all.”
“And what would that be?” Kelley asked, coy and girly.
“You already know.” He held her face while he bent to kiss her. Sunshine warmed him but nothing like the desire on her lips or her body’s tremble against his. After their mouths’ dance, he put the words out there. “I think you’re The One. And I think I could love you.”
Her face warmed his hands. “As for that, cowboy. I think you are The One for me. And I think I could love you back.”
Epilogue
One month later
Mountain Cove High School All American Fourth of July Picnic
“I thought this was the high school alumni picnic.” Jason said in a half-complaint, Bryce tugging at his leash as throngs crowded around them. “I think half of Colorado is here.”
“Well, surely everybody for three counties. This is rural America, Mr. World Traveler. Nothing much goes on, so when something does, we get a good turnout.”
“It’s more like a county fair.”
“Oh, we have that too. And it’s ten times this size.” Kelley laughed, her happiness complete. Her brothers had liked Jason at first sight, but she’d have loved every inch of him even if they hadn’t. And, every second of their time together, too. However, the fact that he fit Hearts Crossing like a glove only added to her blessings. And today was the day to show him off. Not exactly as her fiancé, not yet. But something far more significant than “boyfriend.” She snorted. Such a high school term.
Yet here she was.
Scents from dozens of food booths filled the air as they headed for the Herding Competition held on the football field. Hooper’s Border collie Oreo was a top contender. “I think I could find the energy to power down a corndog,” Jason announced as the scent bounced around the breeze, then looked down at her. “If that thought doesn’t offend you.”
Kelley playfully stuck out her tongue. “How many times must I say it, cowboy? I am not judgmental against carnivores.”
“I know.” His left arm hugged her hard. “I think we’ve been making a great team.”
“That we do.” A sweet warmth covered her along with the summer sun.
“I meant, a great team cooking together.”
“That too.” She smiled as his arm tightened. “So let’s hit the faculty booth. Supposedly their ‘dogs are the best in three counties. Honey-dipped cornbread coating compliments of yours truly. Besides, Kenn’s working the booth and roped Christy into helping him. We gotta go talk some trash.”
Jason’s phone buzzed, and he took a peek. He shook his head and burst into laughter loud enough to compete with the din of the picnic.
“What is it?” Kelley was ready to laugh, too, even though the corner of her eye saw Bobbi Doering on the fast approach. Maybe Miss Friends-with-burger-benefits didn’t know Kelley and Jason were an item now and wanted to compete. Her heat flopped a little.
“It’s a text from my mom. She pitched your chuck wagon cookbook to her publishing house. They’re interested in you submitting a proposal.”
“Wow.”
“Get those stars out of your eyes.” He elbowed her. “Getting a proposal ready is hard work. I lived with Snowy long enough to know.”
Kelley could barely hold in such excitement, but she kept things light. “Like I haven’t had enough to do lately. Catering Caffey and Rhee’s wedding reception. Wagon train chuck-cook every other week. Moving back from Sunset Hills.”
The last was said with both promise and sadness. Her last summer’s dream had ended, but another had begun. After much prayer, she’d realized she belonged back home, and that God had led her in another direction. Vegeterra had not been a waste of time or money. She’d learned how to run a restaurant and keep accurate books. The equipment had all been sold, raising enough to pay off her bills, and she had brought back with her an excellent review from the food editor of the Sunset Hills Herald, to post as reference at the Butterbean Café.
Her and Jason’s new venture.
Ma and Hooper had indeed scraped up some cash, and Jason had eagerly gone into business with her with his savings. Even his mother had sent some funds from Moldova, promising she and September would be on a plane to Colorado for Thanksgiving dinner and Bragg’s wedding two days later. And this time around, Kelley had no doubts she’d have a faithful clientele.
Even with a fine collection of vegetarian dishes on the new menu…which would still offer Peg Coleman’s favorites. Kelley had already started cooking on weekends with Jason’s help during his free times from his new position as director of BeauVine’s regional office.
Sitting atop a cooler between this booth and the next, her brother Scott looked up, bright-eyed, at the woman laughing down at him.
As soon as she could, Kelley pulled at Jason and got him out of earshot. “My goodness. I’d bet the ranch that’s Miss Wesley. It’s been ten years or more, but I’d recognize her anywhere.”
“Who? Where?”
Kelley indicated with a backward head nod, rather than pointing. “Back there.”
“So? She’s hot, and he’s unattached.”
“She was our art teacher in high school.” Kelley whispered. “I was a senior and Scott was a sophomore. He had a huge schoolboy crush on her.”
“Well, I can see why.”
“You don’t get it. He looks star struck. But she’s got to be…what? Six, seven years older than him?”
Jason shrugged. “As I see it, they’re both consenting adults. And this is the reunion picnic, after all. Now…” He wiped at his mouth with his shirtsleeve, then turned pink. “Sorry, they were out of napkins. Thing is…”
He stopped and peered down at her.
“What?” She ordered. “Thing is, what?”
“Seeing that star struck brother of yours kind of put me in the mood. If you can stand the taste of corndog, that is.”
“What do you mean?” Kelley asked with a shy, fake batting of her eyelashes, for she knew full well.
He tied Bryce’s leash to the pole of the booth and grabbed Kelley’s hand, heading toward the stand of trees marked with a historical plaque. Long ago, the high school’s site had seen a shootout between U.S. Marshals and a notorious outlaw gang. As he leaned against the commemorative obelisk, Jason pulled her to him and knocked their Stetsons to the ground.
“I’ve made the conclusion. There is no ‘think’ about it any longer, Kelley Martin.” He murmured into her hair before his lips met hers hungrily. “You are the one. And I do love you.”
“Well then, cowboy.” She stood on tiptoe for one last butterfly kiss. “You have concluded correctly. I love you back. And I always will.”
Angel Child
1
October held enough leftover summer for sweat to bead on Scott Martin’s brow. But take his hand off the reins to wipe his face, nope. Not with Heather atop Peachy. Even though his ma’s cremello mare was the gentlest of all the Hearts Crossing horses, the disabled fourteen-year-old girl had never sat
a horse before. She couldn’t speak, but from her mumbles and chuckles, he saw clearly she was enjoying her ride as he led the horse in a slow lap around the corral.
Her ma stood outside the fence, afternoon sun showing the sparkle of tears in her eyes at her daughter’s wish coming true. Space Cowboy, Scott’s dog, rested his head on Mrs. Clark’s feet like he did it every day. Scott’s spirit soared at the sights around him.
“You are, Miss Heather, the prettiest cowgirl I ever did see.” Scott nodded at the mother and winked at the girl.
Mrs. Clark smiled at his words. “I just know she’d rather a wear a cowboy hat on her head than that helmet.”
“Safety reasons, ma’am. But I’ll see what I can do.” He doffed his wide-brimmed hat and plunked it atop the helmet. As Heather’s face split into a bright smile, her ma snapped a picture with her smartphone.
One more lap, slow and easy, and Scott reined in Peachy, started unhooking the safety belt he’d jury-rigged, and waited for Mrs. Clark before lifting Heather down. He wasn’t quite sure the nature of the girl’s disabilities, which were both physical and intellectual, but she couldn’t walk unaided. Her ma helped her every step of the way, so for a flash, he reckoned her riding the horse–even if he’d walked at her side just six inches from her knees—had been a true mark of independence.
Leaning against her mother, Heather groaned a sound that Scott was sure meant thank you. He squeezed the girl’s hand and reclaimed his hat. Next time, if there was one, he’d be sure to have on hand a Stetson big enough to tie around Heather’s helmet. Seeing Space Cowboy, Heather let out a sound of glee, and her ma helped her bend down to give the mutt a hug.
“I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Martin, for today. It’s a dream come true for my daughter. Horses and dogs—just about her two favorite things. How about another ‘lesson’ next Saturday?”
Scott had to hesitate. He sure wasn’t a certified therapy instructor. True, Hearts Crossing Ranch was no stranger at giving riding lessons, did so both privately and in groups to folks of all ages and experience levels, but today marked the ranch’s first time with someone of special needs.
“I looked up some stuff on the internet, but I’m not exactly certified, you know,” he said. Sure he’d enjoyed Heather’s excursion, and Mrs. Clark had signed all the necessary waivers, but he had to be honest.
“I know but…” Mrs. Clark kissed the top of Heather’s head and looked down at her feet. “The closest therapy riding center for disabled children is in Broken Bow. Hearts Crossing is on the way to my folks. I know Heather would love it, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?” She kissed her daughter’s cheek with such true adoration Scott’s heart tugged. “It was Mrs. Martin’s idea, and a wonderful one,” she continued before he could think to respond. “Coming here and trying Heather on a gentle horse. There are so few options for special needs children in Rustic Canyon…”
Of all the Mrs. Martins in his world, Scott knew she referred to his sister-in-law Daisy, who taught at a Christian school about an hour away. Heather and a trained teacher’s aide mainstreamed into Daisy’s seventh grade class a couple hours a day. When Daisy had suggested a therapy ride for Heather, the family had embraced the idea with enthusiasm.
But should there be next times? He knew CPR and first aid, of course, but as yet hadn’t taken any specialized training. In the meantime, Heather’s bright face convinced him.
“Next Saturday should be OK,” he said and meant it, planned to do more research during the week. “We’re glad y’all could make it today.”
“Thanks so much, Mr. Martin.”
“Call me Scott, ma’am. Mr. Martin’s one of my brothers.” He grinned.
Heather smiled again. Scott was unsure whether she understood or not since her lips twisted oddly from her condition. But in her way, she was a beautiful, intriguing child. Pity rose in his gut, as well as affection. What kind of life would she have later on? What kind of life did her mother have now with a child of such punishing dependence and no possibility of growing up and being on her own?
“OK, then. Be seeing you. Um…” Scott hesitated. Mrs. Clark seemed so capable, so in tune with her child, but he felt the need to ask. “Can I help you, you know, back to your van?”
Mrs. Clark smiled. “No. We’ve got our little routine. Heather and I have been on our own since she was knee high. But thanks. For everything.”
For a moment, Scott watched them walk away to a pale blue minivan, escorted by Space Cowboy, and wondered. On our own? Did that mean no husband and father in the picture? Couldn’t be an easy life, not at all. Alone yet.
Definitely time for a cold cola, he hustled up the porch steps into the big ranch house. Hearing voices, Scott wondered if he should intrude. Strong opinions surged from the big front room where most activities originated both family and tourist, ranging from city-slicker wagon trains to destination weddings.
But the strong words now were definitely about his brother Kenn’s day job. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, Scott didn’t want to eavesdrop, but he didn’t dare interrupt the eruption either. He hunkered just outside the doorway but with a partial view.
“I can’t miss a week of teaching,” The mild-mannered Kenn all but hollered. “I’ve got kids to tutor before quarter exams. Coursework to review with my classes. Not to mention report cards getting done. Ma, it’s not gonna happen.” Kenn’s good arm pounded the side of an armchair, his bandaged leg stretched on an ottoman. “And get that out of here.” He pointed at the wheelchair in front of the fireplace, and Scott’s heart panged. Before pancreatic cancer had claimed Pa’s life, he’d spent many hours in the thing. “I don’t need a wheelchair.”
“It’s a ‘transport’ chair,” Ma sniffed. “You need to keep your leg elevated. It’ll ease you getting around the house. But school? Not on my watch, not with all those pain meds gurgling through your blood. You got no ramps to your classroom. Besides, you need the ice machine and electrodes for your shoulder and all the other gizmos to get you better.” Ma harrumphed in her own special way. “And with Christy not here, she’s left me in charge.”
At the mention of his wife’s name, Kenn’s face darkened. It had torn them apart, Christy leaving so soon after Kenn’s tumble from a rescued mustang, but she was a keynote speaker at the Landscape Architects National Association’s annual convocation in southern California. In addition, she was the scheduled recipient of the prestigious Tomorrowscape Award for one of her Los Angeles area sustainable landscaping projects. Even with her protests, Kenn had insisted he was in good enough hands for a few days. He’d even encouraged her not to cancel plans to visit relatives and friends before coming home.
Out-patient arthroscopic surgery had fixed up Kenn just fine. And without a doubt, Ma’s promise to hover over his brother had helped convince Christy not to cancel her plans.
“The discussion is over,” Ma declared. “You couldn’t even use crutches with that shoulder. So stop squawking and start healing. And you, Scott.”
His skin crawled. How had she sensed him? He knew well he hadn’t made one single sound as he leaned against the doorway wall. “Scotty? Please tuck that chair away in the study.” She tended to the wires attached to Kenn’s bandages.
“OK, Ma.” He kissed her cheek. Ma was a powerful force of nature in the best of times, but when one of her clutch was in need, her authority never stopped. Thing was, she was usually right.
“And Kenn, even talented as you are, nobody’s indispensible,” Ma said. “This morning Principal Scovell hired somebody who taught for him a while back. Your substitute will be here in a little while to get some lessons plans done. You recall me telling you that, don’t you?”
Kenn nodded, but his tensed jaw let Scott know he was still resisting like crazy.
“Now, you be polite.”
With a groan, Kenn used his good arm to toss a throw pillow across the room. Then Scott moved the “transport chair” out of sight.
“How’d it go with the little
girl?” Kenn asked, eyelids moving slow, when Scott returned. The pain meds were apparently working.
“Not so little. Fourteen.” Scott perched on a chair next to his brother. Ma sat silently, but bright eyes full of interest. “She enjoyed it. Tragic girl. Crippled and all but mute. Her ma tries to keep her gussied up cute, though.”
Ma harrumphed again. “Of course her ma does. That girl is the beautiful child of her heart, no matter what. And ever a child of God.”
“Her ma wants her back next Saturday. I said OK although I think we better find out some more about therapy riding.”
“Let Kenn research it while he’s housebound.” Ma ordered. “You’ve got to get the holiday inventory catalogued for the gift shop, and get the Christmas collection up on the online store.”
“All right.” Scott shrugged, a tad offended. He knew well what all his duties were, never shirked them to begin with. With the October cattle market now over and Hearts Crossing’s summer activities quiet until next year, he had time to catch up and even expand his own web-design business. In addition, a local romance writer had hired him to design promotional book trailers for her upcoming releases. He stood up, recalling his need for a soda.
“Get you anything, Kenn?” He headed toward the kitchen just as the doorbell rang. During the busy tourist months, the front door was never locked and guests went in and out at will, but off season, the ranch house had returned to a private home again. “I’ll get it.”
He opened the door, and his breath stopped. Heart pounded against his ribs before falling to his feet. Mary Grace Wesley? Well, Mary Grace Gibson now. Her big blue eyes widened like moons.
Grabbing tight to his self control, Scott’s brain insisted she’d grown more beautiful since the Fourth of July. After running into each other at the reunion picnic, they’d spent the whole day together. She’d even looped her arm through his when he took her around to chat with people she hadn’t seen in years.
“Hi, Scott.” As she moved her head, the sides of her blonde bob swung against the high bones of her cheeks and hid the rising blush.