“Suppose not. We aren’t doing much today. Just getting Tara beyond the paddocks for a change. Thought we’d head up by the creek.”
“Great. I’ll be ready in no time.” Pete left the corral and disappeared moments later into the barn.
The boy was as good as his word, and soon they were all mounted on horses and riding away from the barnyard.
TARA WAS NOWHERE IN SIGHT WHEN KIMBERLY arrived at the Leonard ranch a little before 5:30 on Tuesday evening. Usually, the girl was brushing her horse when Kimberly got there. But not today.
She parked the car in the usual spot, then walked to the barn and looked inside. “Hello?” she called into the darker recesses.
Nobody answered.
She turned around. Chet’s black pickup truck was there. So was the truck his sons used and two more besides. She was trying to decide where to look next for her daughter—at the main house or in the guest cottage?—when two men rode into view through a copse of trees beyond some outbuildings. She didn’t recognize them. When they noticed her, they slowed their mounts from a trot to a walk. Kimberly took a couple of steps back as the horses got closer, nerves erupting in her belly.
“Howdy,” the one with the dark hair said. “You must be Tara’s mother.”
“Yes.”
“Blake Buttons, ma’am. Pleased to meet you.”
She offered a quick smile, wanting to move farther away from the large, sweaty animals but not wanting to be rude to their riders. “Hello.”
“Me and Denny saw Tara ridin’ with Chet and Pete about an hour or so ago. Up above the north pastures there. I reckon they’re on their way back by now, but I wouldn’t expect ’em any too soon.”
The blond-haired cowboy—Denny, she assumed—slipped from the saddle. “Might as well make yourself comfortable, ma’am.” He jerked his head toward the house. “Ms. McKenna’s inside. She’s sure to like your company.”
“Thank you. I’ll go see her.”
But before she could move, she saw Anna walking in their direction. The elderly woman wore jeans, boots, and a bright green western shirt. Her dyed red hair was worn in a ponytail. She looked and moved like someone thirty years her junior.
“You must be early,” Anna said.
“A little.”
“While you wait, let me show you our new additions.”
The ranch hands touched their hat brims, bid her a good day, and led their horses away.
“Come with me.” Anna took Kimberly by the arm, a gesture of friendship rather than an older person needing help. “The foals were born on Sunday a couple of hours apart. One of them is the spitting image of Shiloh’s Star when he was a colt. The other is going to be a blue dun.”
Kimberly didn’t bother to say she had no clue what any of that meant.
They moved through one end of the barn and out the other. The mares and foals were in two nearby paddocks. The babies, now about forty-eight hours old, moved around on their gangly legs with surprising agility, although they didn’t go too far afield from their mothers.
“Aren’t they the prettiest creatures God ever made?”
The wonder and excitement in the elderly woman’s voice was so much like Tara’s that Kimberly had to smile. “Tara must have been beside herself when she saw them.”
“She surely was.”
“When she isn’t here at the ranch, she’s reading books from the library about horses. I wish she was as eager to learn history or geometry or English lit.”
“Are you learning about horses along with her?”
“A little. But I might as well ask a dumb question. What’s a blue dun?”
Anna laughed. “Abe always said there was no such thing as a dumb question, and I agree. Basically the blue comes from a black horse with cream-colored genetics. It gives the horse a grayish coat with darker gray markings. And a dun has a dorsal stripe, which runs from withers to croup.” She pointed. “See it there?”
Kimberly nodded.
“Maybe you’ll think twice about those riding lessons we offered to give you. The offer still stands.”
“I’ll pass, Anna. Thanks anyway.”
There was a merry twinkle in Anna McKenna’s eyes. “But be warned. I intend to conspire with your daughter to change your mind.”
Kimberly didn’t doubt for a moment that they would try. But there was no way on earth she would ever agree to it. No matter what.
Anna
1945
MUFFLED MOANS AWAKENED ANNA BEFORE DAWN ON the Fourth of July. Barefoot, she went to the bedroom at the opposite end of the hall and tapped on the door. “Abe?”
The door jerked open a few moments later. Perspiration beaded Abe’s forehead, and his eyes were filled with concern.
“Is it Violet?” Anna asked, although she knew the answer. “What can I do to help?”
“We need Minnie York to come right away. I don’t think this baby’s going to take long, no matter what they told us to expect. Can you ride over to the York farm and get her? The telephone isn’t working. I tried about an hour ago.”
“I’ll get dressed and go right now.” Anna spun away and ran to her room. She dressed in a hurry and tied her hair back with a ribbon without bothering to run a brush through the tangled curls. Then she was down the stairs, out the door, and into the barn where she saddled Shiloh’s Star and rode away from the yard as dawn became a pale promise in the east.
According to what Violet had told Anna a few weeks before, Minnie York had delivered most of the babies in Kings Meadow for the last twenty years. Certainly the experienced midwife had delivered more babies than the young physician, David Chapman, who’d opened his practice in the valley this past spring. Luckily for Anna, the York farm butted up against the Leonards’ east pastureland. It didn’t take Shiloh’s Star long to carry her there.
Almost as if she’d been anticipating Anna’s arrival, Minnie York opened the door with her leather bag already in hand. “Is it time?”
“Yes. Hurry. Abe says the baby’s coming fast.”
“What does he know? All he’s delivered is calves and pigs.” She closed the door behind her and strode toward her automobile. “If you get there first, tell Abe and Violet I’m on my way and to stay calm.”
Anna turned Shiloh’s Star around, and they began the race toward home again. The young horse gave her everything he had, his long strides eating up the ground beneath them. By the time they galloped into the Leonard barnyard, the sky overhead had turned from pewter to blue. Anna tied the reins around the hitching post and ran into the house.
Upstairs, the door to the bedroom was open. Violet’s groans filled the hallway. Looking scared to death, Abe stood beside the bed, holding his wife’s hand.
“Abe, Mrs. York’s on her way.”
He glanced toward the door. “Did you tell her to hurry?”
“I did. She was getting in her car when I started back. She should be right behind me.”
As if to prove Anna told the truth, an engine backfired below the bedroom window.
“Go see if she needs any help,” Abe ordered, his gaze returning to his wife.
Anna was quick to obey, but the most the midwife wanted from her were clean linens and hot water. After that, Anna had to be satisfied with sitting in the kitchen, listening as Violet strained to bring her baby into the world.
Twelve
ON FRIDAY AFTERNOON, ANGRY VOICES DREW CHET out of the house in time to see Pete take a swing at his brother and miss. Sam was quick to retaliate. He connected with Pete’s nose, knocking him to the ground. The younger boy was back on his feet in seconds, this time using his head as a battering ram, flying straight into Sam’s midsection. Sam was thrown backward. He slammed into the side of the truck that had carried the two boys home from school not long before.
“Sam! Pete!” Chet ran to put himself in between them. “Stop it!”
He didn’t succeed in pulling the brothers apart until one of the hired hands, Blake Buttons, showed up to assist hi
m. Chet got ahold of Pete. Blake dragged Sam in the opposite direction.
Chet turned his youngest son around to face him. The boy had a bloody nose, and his right eye was starting to swell. “What’s going on?”
“Ask him.” Pete spat the words as he jerked his head toward his brother.
“You’re acting like a baby,” Sam returned as he fingered his split lower lip.
With a cry of rage, Pete tried to pull free from his father’s grasp.
Chet held on tight. “I want to know what’s going on between you two, and I want to know now!”
Sam was the first to answer. “He’s mad, ’cause I asked Tara Welch to go with me to the prom next week and she said yes.”
“You know I like her. You know it. You coulda asked somebody else. Any girl but Tara.”
“So what if you like her? You aren’t her boyfriend, and you couldn’t take her to the prom anyway. You’re a sophomore. Why shouldn’t I ask her?”
“You wouldn’t have asked her if it wasn’t for me.”
“Ah, grow up.”
This time, Pete managed to jerk away from his father’s grasp, but he didn’t try to go for his brother again. Instead he stormed off toward the barn.
Blake appeared to be hiding a smile as he relaxed his grip on Sam’s arms. He sent a questioning gaze toward his boss. Chet nodded, silently telling him he could go. Without comment, Blake returned to whatever he’d been doing before the fight broke out.
Chet focused his attention on his eldest son. “Is that true? Did you ask Tara out just to hurt your brother?”
“No. I thought I was doing her a favor. She’s new at school and doesn’t seem to have many friends yet.” He touched his lip again, then checked his fingertips for blood, his brows knitted together in a deep frown. “I figured she’d want to go to the prom. And like I said, it isn’t like she’s Pete’s girlfriend. They aren’t going out or anything. He’s never told her he likes her. He’s too chicken for that.”
Chet had worried Pete might get his heart broken by Tara, this being his first serious crush, but he hadn’t figured on Sam being the reason. The brothers had squabbled before for many different reasons, but he’d never known them to go at it with fists—and certainly never over a girl. “You need to make it right with your brother, Sam.”
“How? Do I tell Tara I can’t take her to the prom ’cause Pete’s jealous?”
“No, that wouldn’t be fair to her. Not if she already accepted.”
“She did.”
Chet rubbed his chin, hoping for an idea. Nothing came to him. “I don’t know how you’ll make it up to him,” he answered at last. “But you’d better find a way.”
“I’ll do what I can. Just don’t expect a miracle.” Sam grabbed his backpack off the ground and walked toward the house, slipping past Anna who had come outside sometime during the commotion. Chet followed a few moments later.
“What was that about?” Anna asked when he reached her.
“A girl.”
Anna looked toward the barn. “Tara?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, dear.”
Her words added an extra weight to his shoulders. “Yeah.”
WHEN KIMBERLY WALKED THROUGH THE BACK DOOR into Janet’s kitchen, Tara was waiting for her. The girl’s eyes were brilliant with excitement.
“Mom, I got asked to the prom. It’s next weekend. I’ve gotta have a dress.” The words tumbled out of her with nary a breath. “Can we go find a dress tomorrow? Please, Mom. Please.”
“The prom?” Her daughter hadn’t mentioned a prom before now. Tara had never shown any interest in school dances or fancy dresses. It had always been horses, horses, horses. “Who invited you?”
“Sam Leonard.”
Kimberly relaxed slightly as she set her purse on the small table near the door. Sam seemed a nice boy, and he came from a good family. That offered some relief. But a prom dress was another matter entirely. How could they afford one?
Janet appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Mind if I butt in? Couldn’t help but overhear.”
Kimberly shook her head, then nodded, desperate for any help that might be offered.
“There’s a secondhand store in Boise that specializes in formal gowns for teens at reasonable prices. The dresses are as good as new but at a fraction of the price you’d pay in the department or specialty stores. Why don’t you two drive down tomorrow and see what you can find? Make a day of it.”
Money for gas. Money for a dress. Could she manage it? Of course she could. She’d have to manage it. A girl’s first prom was an important milestone, and Tara deserved to go to it. She’d done without so much since her father passed away.
Kimberly forced away any remaining negative thoughts, the kind that came to her all too easily. “All right.” She smiled. “Let’s do it. A girls’ day out. Just you and me. It’ll be fun.”
“I’ll have to call Ms. McKenna and tell her I can’t be there tomorrow.”
“Oh, dear. I’d forgotten that.” Kimberly frowned in thought. “Maybe I could volunteer to go with you on Sunday afternoon or one evening next week so that Ms. McKenna has double the help. We don’t want Mr. Leonard to feel as if you’re taking advantage of him or shirking your duties.” Even as the words left her mouth, intuition told her Chet Leonard wouldn’t feel that way. He would understand. Still, she added, “Your horse eats, whether you help around the ranch or not.”
“Sure. That’d be great if you could come help. I’ll call now.”
Kimberly watched as her daughter picked up the phone and punched in the number, but she didn’t wait for someone to answer on the other end. She wanted out of her work clothes and into her favorite pair of jeans.
Janet followed her to the bedroom door. “Tara’s super excited.”
“I didn’t think anything but a horse could get her so worked up.”
“Sam’s a nice kid.”
“He seems like it.” She stepped behind the open closet door and began to change clothes. “But I’m not sure I’m ready for Tara to fall for him or any boy. Inevitably what follows a first crush is the first heartbreak.”
“We all have to go through that, Kimmie. It’s how we learn as we grow up.”
She tugged on her jeans. “I know. But I still wish I could protect her from it for a while. These last years have been hard ones. I’d like to see her happy for a good long spell.”
“Despite all that’s happened to the two of you, Tara’s got her head on straight. You’ve done a good job raising her.”
Kimberly looked around the closet door. “Do you really think so?”
“I really think so.” Janet smiled at her before turning away. “I’m going to grill hamburgers for supper.”
“I’ll be out in a sec to help.” Kimberly pulled on a T-shirt, then glanced in the mirror above the dresser. “You need to learn not to worry,” she told her reflection. If only I could.
THAT EVENING, DINNER IN THE LEONARD HOME WAS AN uncomfortable affair, anger an almost physical presence in the room. Neither of the boys said more than a dozen words the entire meal. Tired of the tension, Chet excused Pete and Sam from doing the dishes. Easier to wash up himself, he decided, than let his sons’ foul moods give him an ulcer.
When he’d finished cleaning up in the kitchen, he headed for his office, intending to accomplish some much-needed bookkeeping. Instead he sat at his desk and stared toward the window, unseeing.
If Marsha were here, he wondered, would she know how to handle this rift between brothers? Or would she feel as helpless as he felt now?
Chet would have given a lot to have had a brother when he was a kid. He’d had a great childhood, but sometimes he’d been lonely. He’d decided early on that, when he married, he wanted a big family. No only child for this Leonard. Four generations of that was enough. He’d wanted a bunch of kids to fill the bedrooms of this old ranch house as they’d never been filled before.
He thought back to the births of each of his three sons
, remembering the joy he felt the first time he’d held them in his arms. Happiness had seemed a promise for the rest of their days. But that kind of thinking had been naïve. Nobody got to be happy forever. Not on this earth. Trials came to the just and unjust, like the rain. He’d heard it said that happiness and joy were two different things. Happiness because of circumstances—and ever so fleeting. Joy because of trusting God, despite the circumstances. Was that true? He wasn’t sure.
He stood and walked to the window. Sunset was a ways off, but the lowering sun had painted the barnyard with the muted shades of evening. He always liked this time of day on the ranch. Everything moved slower. Nothing was pressing. Chet closed his eyes and leaned a shoulder against the window case. As he released a deep breath, he let the concern for his battling sons go on a silent prayer.
That you may know the way by which you shall go, for you have not passed this way before.
He’d read that passage from the book of Joshua during his morning devotions, and as the words returned to him, he felt some of the worry drain away. This was new ground for them as a family, but they’d passed through a lot of new ground over the years. And somehow they’d always managed to find their way through it. With God’s help, they would do so once again.
Thirteen
KIMBERLY AND TARA LEFT KINGS MEADOW AT NINE o’clock on Saturday morning. It was one of those perfect days in May when the sky was crystal blue and the earth splashed with varying shades of green. Green was not a color Kimberly thought of first when she thought of Idaho. Not after spending her life in the Seattle area where the average annual rainfall was over three times more than here.
The highway followed the Payette River, which ran high on its banks and roiled and frothed over boulders and trapped logs, but Kimberly couldn’t enjoy more than the occasional glance in the river’s direction. The winding road required her full attention.
Once they were out of the mountains and headed into Boise, Tara read aloud Janet’s detailed directions to the recommended shop. Fifteen minutes later, the car turned into the parking lot beside Déjà Vu Couture. Nerves tumbled in Kimberly’s stomach.
The Kings Meadow Romance Collection Page 8