For some reason, that thought made him feel good.
KIMBERLY’S HEART GAVE A LITTLE SKIP WHEN SHE saw the items that Anna and Tara had set aside. Things not deemed to have any chance of reuse had been taken to the county’s refuse collection site by Sam and Pete. Things that Anna knew must stay in the Leonard family had begun taking up residence in one corner of the bedroom. The things still in question had been placed in a back corner of the living room.
The latter was where Kimberly stood now.
“See anything of value there?” Anna asked behind her.
Kimberly hardly knew where to begin as her gaze trailed over a washstand, a tarnished silver tea set and tray, a pair of Victorian table lamps, a large copper washtub, and a shoe box full of jewelry. And those were only the items easily seen.
“Should we keep any of it?” Anna asked again.
“I would. That washstand, for one. It must be at least a hundred years old. If it was sanded and stained, it would make a beautiful addition to any home. Especially if there’s an old porcelain washbowl and pitcher to go with it.”
“You’re right about its age. It belonged to Violet Leonard’s mother. Violet brought it with her when she married Chet’s grandfather.”
Kimberly looked at Anna. “You really know the history of this place, don’t you?”
“Yes. That’s true.”
“But you were away for a long time. Didn’t you say thirty years or something like that? I would think you’d have forgotten some of it.”
“Funny thing about getting older, Kimberly. The things that happened the longest ago, the people you knew when you were young, that’s what you remember best most of the time. Yesterday can get hazy. Forty or fifty or sixty years can be clear as a bell.”
Kimberly felt an unexpected ache for the grandmothers she’d never known. It would be wonderful if she could ask questions about her own family. But it was just her and Tara now, and their history had shallow roots, a tree that could be ripped up by the wind.
“Are you all right, my dear?” Anna laid a hand on Kimberly’s shoulder.
“Yes. I’m fine.” She took a step deeper into the corner, preferring to think about antiques rather than be reminded of the people and things that weren’t part of her life.
Anna
1945
THE WAR IN EUROPE WAS OVER!
Abe, a very pregnant Violet, and Anna piled into the Model T and motored into town to join the VE-Day celebrations. The bells in the Methodist church tower pealed across the valley. There was music and singing and dancing in the streets and liquor consumed by more than a few residents of Kings Meadow. People laughed. People cried. Those who had lost someone in the war cried the most.
At least that was true for Anna who felt afresh the reality that her daddy would never come home from Europe.
After an hour or so, she wandered away from the crowds until she found a place where she could be alone to remember her daddy. With the passing of each month, it had become harder and harder to remember the details of his face without the help of the photograph of her parents that she carried with her. The memory of his voice had become little more than a whisper.
But one thing hadn’t changed. Whenever she was with Shiloh’s Star, she sensed her daddy’s presence. It gave her courage when she felt like sliding back into fear. It helped her hold onto the dream that had been his first and was now hers to see to fruition.
“Next year, Daddy,” she said aloud, her eyes squeezed shut. “Next year there oughta be a colt or a filly out of Golden Girl by Shiloh’s Star. He doesn’t say it, but I think Abe’s as excited as I am.” She paused, willing her words to reach her father. Could those who’d gone on to heaven hear the folks left on earth? She wanted it to be so. “They’re good to me, the Leonards. Real good. Tell Mama I’m doing fine and behaving, like she taught me I should.”
With her forearm, she wiped away the last of her tears and opened her eyes again in time to see Violet walking across the field toward her. Waddling might be a better description of the way she moved through the tall, pale-green grasses of spring, one hand resting on her swollen abdomen, the other pressed against the small of her back. And she still had six weeks to go before the baby was due. How much bigger would she get?
“Anna? Are you all right, hon?”
Anna nodded.
Violet stopped beneath the tree where Anna sat and awkwardly lowered herself to the ground next to her. “We got worried when we couldn’t find you.”
“Sorry. I was . . . I was—” Her throat closed up, cutting off her words.
“You were thinking about your father,” Violet finished for her.
Anna nodded.
“I don’t blame you. If I’d lost somebody close to me in this awful war, this day’d make me feel the same way. Over at last but such a huge price was paid. And still not done in the Pacific.” She put her arm around Anna and drew her close. “It’s all right, you know, to ask God why things happen the way they do. I used to think I had to pretend that I was all right with everything the way it was, that if it was God’s will for something to happen in my life, then I ought to be happy about it. But that was just pretending. God doesn’t need me to pretend, and He isn’t afraid of my questions. You go right on and pour out your feelings to Him. Don’t hold back. He’ll listen, and then He’ll comfort. You see if He doesn’t.”
Ten
KIMBERLY STIFLED A YAWN AS SHE OPENED THE bottom drawer of the desk and took out her purse.
“Headed home?” Chris Russell asked from inside his office.
She moved to stand in his doorway. “Yes. Did you need something before I go?”
“Yes, I do.” He leaned back in his chair. “I know when you started we thought it would be for six weeks, tops. But are you willing to stay on for another four? I talked to Madeline, and the doctor says she won’t be able to put any weight on her foot for at least that much longer and thinks it best that she not return to work.”
Kimberly forced herself not to smile. After all, Madeline was having a difficult time. But four more weeks of drawing a paycheck would be a blessing, and she would be grateful for every one of them. “I’m happy to stay on as long as you need me, Chris.”
“Good. I appreciate the work you’ve been doing. You caught on fast.”
“Thanks.” She took a half step back, then turned. “See you in the morning.”
There was a definite spring in her step as she left the office and walked toward the grocery store. She was tempted to splurge on some big, juicy steaks for dinner, but Tara would appreciate tacos or pizza more, and either of those would cost a good deal less than prime cuts of beef.
Wistfully she remembered the times when she’d prepared a romantic dinner for her and Ellis. Candlelight. A little red wine. Her best crystal and china. Soft music from the iPod speakers. Steaks grilled to perfection. Ambience and presentation had been important to her.
In her memory, she saw the way Ellis looked at her when they’d enjoyed one of their special evenings at home. Eyes filled with love. Ellis had had such expressive eyes. One time, maybe six months before he died, he’d surprised her at the end of the meal with a gorgeous diamond necklace. It hadn’t been her birthday or their anniversary. He’d bought it because he loved her, he’d said.
How would she have reacted if she’d known how deep in debt they were?
The pleasant memories spoiled by reality, Kimberly pushed open the swinging glass door and entered The Merc. She pulled a shopping basket from the stack near the entrance and started down an aisle, looking for the items on her list. It didn’t take long. Choices were not abundant in this small-town grocery store. Nothing like the superstores where she’d done her shopping for most of her adult life.
She paid for her purchases at the checkout, then gathered a brown paper sack in each arm. At the exit, she turned her back to the glass door and pushed it open with her backside. As she turned again, she nearly collided with an incoming customer.
“Whoa there.”
She recognized Chet Leonard’s voice even before she lifted her gaze to his face, shaded as always by his brown cowboy hat.
“Here. Let me help you with those.” He took one bag from her, then the other. “Where’s your car?”
She shook her head. “I walked to work this morning. It’s not very far to Janet’s. Not on a day like this.”
“It is fine out.”
Kimberly began to feel awkward, standing there in front of The Merc, Chet holding her shopping bags. How was she supposed to take them back from him?
“I’ll carry these for you,” he said in answer to her unspoken question.
“Oh, you needn’t do that. They aren’t heavy. Really. I . . . it’s—”
“Come on. I’ll bet you’ve got the fixings for supper in these sacks. Better get you home so you all don’t starve.” He swiveled on his heel, then gave her a glance that said he was waiting for her.
What else could she do? She moved to his side and they set off toward Janet’s home.
After a brief silence, Chet said, “Tell Tara that we’ve got two new foals as of yesterday.”
“They both came? She’ll be disappointed she didn’t get to be there to see at least one of them born. She told me all about the mares when she got home Saturday.”
“Yeah, she seems eager to learn everything about horses and ranching.”
“Maybe it’s for the best she wasn’t there. She might be a little young to watch a live birth.”
Chet looked at her, eyebrows raised. “You’re kidding, right? She’s almost sixteen.”
She supposed he was right. Tara wasn’t a little child.
“Sorry,” he said. “None of my business. But when you live on a ranch, the natural order of things is something you learn early on. Tara’s more ready than you think she is.”
“I know. I can be overprotective sometimes.”
“I guess you’ve got a right to be, after all that’s happened to the two of you.”
She winced, realizing how much he must know about her personal affairs. “I take it Tara’s told you about her father and how bad things got after he died.”
“Yeah. She told me a little.”
A little? She knew Tara better than that.
“Look, Kimberly. I wasn’t trying to pry. I promise.”
She released a humorless laugh. “I know you weren’t. Tara doesn’t filter her thoughts much. Not when she’s comfortable with someone.” She looked at Chet again. “She feels at ease around you. She feels at ease with everybody at the ranch.”
“That’s good to hear.” He smiled, kindness in his eyes. “I wasn’t sure how she and I would get along at first. I’m used to dealing with boys. Never have spent a lot of time with girls.” He paused on a sigh. “Maybe that’s why I’m divorced. Maybe I still don’t understand girls.”
His last comment raised a number of questions in Kimberly’s mind. She knew far less about him than he knew about her. At least when it came to his failed marriage and ex-wife. Perhaps she might learn more if she asked a question or two. But something in his expression stopped her. Something told her talking about it still caused him pain.
She understood only too well.
IT HAD BEEN A STRANGE IMPULSE, TAKING KIMBERLY’S sacks of groceries and then offering to escort her home. Chet wasn’t sure why he’d done it. For the same reason he’d agreed to work with Tara and her horse, he supposed. Couldn’t help himself. Chet to the rescue. It was a character trait he wished he could change. Not everybody needed or wanted to be rescued, not even when they looked or sounded like they did. Marsha hadn’t. That was for certain. His ex-wife had wanted to lead her own life and make her own decisions, far away from him. Without having to report to anyone.
Report to anyone.
Those words had stung. They still did.
He’d thought they had a partnership. He’d thought they were each one-half of a whole. He’d thought they were able to tell each other anything and everything. He’d thought they were married for life.
Which just went to prove his point. He’d thought wrong. Again.
“Chet.”
Kimberly stopped walking, and Chet was pulled back to the present.
She held out her arms. “I can take those now. We’re here. You needn’t come any farther.”
See, Kimberly Welch didn’t want to be rescued either. He thought he was doing the polite thing, and she thought he was intruding on her personal space. Couldn’t be more clear about it. He passed the two sacks into her waiting arms.
“Thanks for your help.” She took a step back from him.
He wondered if she meant it. “Glad to do it.” Now he wondered if he meant it.
“I’ll tell Tara about the foals. She’ll be eager to see them tomorrow.”
He nodded and gave his hat brim a tug, then turned and headed back toward the center of town, ready to get home, whatever had brought him to the grocery store in the first place forgotten.
KIMBERLY RAPPED ON THE DOOR TO TARA’S ROOM, then opened it when she didn’t answer. Her daughter was lying on her stomach on the bed, holding a book out in front of her with both hands as she read.
“Homework?” Kimberly asked.
Tara shook her head as she turned the cover of the book so her mother could see it.
Of course. A book about horses. What else?
Kimberly entered the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “I saw Mr. Leonard a little bit ago. He said to tell you the two new foals were born.”
“They were? Both of them?” Tara sat up. “Wish I’d been there.”
“You’ll see them tomorrow.”
“This book has pictures of a foal being delivered.” She flipped quickly through the pages, stopping when she found what she wanted. “It says a foal will normally stand within the first hour and can trot and canter that very first day. Cool, huh?”
“Very cool.”
“Kinda makes me wish Wind Dancer was a mare so we could have a colt one day.”
Kimberly reached out and pushed Tara’s dark hair back from her face. “You’d best be happy with the one horse you’ve got.” Silently she added, We couldn’t even afford him if not for Chet Leonard’s generosity.
The thought brought his image back to mind, and her heart did a small, unexpected flutter. He was so old-school polite around her. The code of a cowboy, perhaps. And truth be told, she was beginning to find that code rather attractive.
Eleven
SAM’S VOICE RANG ACROSS THE BARNYARD. “HEY, DAD!”
Chet turned his attention from Tara and the sorrel mare she was saddling. “What?”
“You’re wanted on the phone.”
“Who is it?”
“He didn’t say. Just says it’s important he talk to you.”
“I’ll be right there.” He looked at Tara. “You wait for me to get back before you mount up.”
The girl made a soft sound of impatience, but didn’t voice her objection.
Chet took off for the house. Once inside, he bumped his hat back on his forehead with his knuckles and picked up the handset of the kitchen telephone. “Hello.”
“Mr. Leonard? Scott Webb here.”
Scott Webb. A trainer from over in Payette, a town near the Idaho-Oregon border. A man looking to buy several new horses from the Leonards. “Afternoon, Mr. Webb.”
“I’m afraid I have some bad news. I won’t be able to make it up to see your horses tomorrow.”
“Not a problem.” Even as he spoke, he felt a premonition that it might be a problem. “When will you be able to come?”
“Doesn’t look like I’ll be buying any new stock this year. My wife’s got some health issues and has taken an unexpected turn for the worse. The medical expenses will have to be paid before I can consider any new horses. That could be awhile.”
Chet sank onto a tall kitchen stool, disappointment sharp in his chest. “I’m sorry to hear your wife’s ill. Hope she makes a quick recovery.�
��
“Thanks. And I’m real sorry about not getting those horses.”
“It’s all right. Appreciate the call. And you come when you’re able. Might not have the same horses you were looking at, but there are always others.”
After they both said good-bye, Chet punched the Off button and put the handset in its charger. He rubbed his forehead with his fingertips, as if trying to erase the sudden worry. He’d counted on that sale to improve his cash flow. He could usually tell, even over the phone, when someone was just looking and when they were ready to buy. The website he’d had designed by Allison Kavanagh made him even more accurate in his assessments, because folks came to the Leonard ranch already knowing what horse or horses they wanted to see. And Scott Webb had been ready to buy some prime stock.
But no one could know the future. Illness or tragedy could strike anybody at any time. As much as he felt the loss to his bottom line, Chet wasn’t devoid of empathy for whatever the Webbs were facing.
He started toward his office on the lower level of the house, then remembered Tara was waiting for him to continue her riding lesson. Not exactly what he wanted to do at the moment, but out the door he went. First thing he saw was Pete sitting on the corral fence, talking to Tara. He wasn’t surprised to see him there. The boy’s crush on the girl had been growing more and more obvious by the day. Anybody could see it—except Tara herself, that was. All she seemed to notice were the horses. Chet preferred it to stay that way.
“Sorry about the interruption,” he said when he reached the corral. “Have you got the mare ready to go?”
“Yes,” Tara answered.
Chet went into the corral and checked the cinch and saddle. “Good job.”
“Hey, Dad.” Pete hopped down from the fence. “Care if I saddle up and come with you?”
The Kings Meadow Romance Collection Page 7