Chet did what he was told, and he couldn’t quite decide if that irritated or amused him. Both, actually. Often at the same time.
The plan was to begin with remodeling the line shack within the shortest distance of the ranch complex. Spruce up the cabin’s rustic look while making it tight against inclement weather. Of course, the glamping experience came more from the lush beds and fancy linens and the meals that would be prepared for them than from the setting.
The men cleared a trail that led a short distance up the mountainside behind the cabin to a secluded place where time and weather had carved a bowl out of the rocks. Just enough water from an underground hot spring mixed with cold water from the creek to make it the perfect temperature. A nature-made hot tub that wouldn’t need any upkeep from the Leonards. All the better.
Chet was alone, pounding an instructional sign into the ground near the hot springs pool, when Kimberly appeared at the top of the path. The day was hot, and she wore khaki shorts and a sky-blue sleeveless blouse. Her dark hair was captured in a ponytail, her head covered with a baseball cap the same color as her top. Her hat sparkled with sequins. When he saw her, he straightened and with the back of an arm wiped away the sweat on his forehead.
“Wow,” she said. “This is incredible. I didn’t even know about it until today.”
“It’s really something at night. Sit in the hot springs and stare up at the stars, steam rising all around you. Makes all your cares drift away.”
Kimberly took a couple of steps closer to the pool. “Sounds like I should try it out before the guests make it theirs.”
Chet’s mouth went dry as he imagined Kimberly in the hot springs pool—and him with her.
“Seriously. Would that be all right one evening?” she said.
“You bet.” He cleared his throat. “Maybe sometime soon. The two of us.”
Her eyebrows rose. Surprise filled her eyes.
Chet cleared his throat again. “I’ve been wracking my brain, trying to think of someplace I could take you that would beat the concert we saw. I kept coming up empty. Maybe I’ve been trying too hard.”
“Yes.” A small smile replaced the surprise. “Maybe you have been.”
“How about tomorrow night? You could stay for dinner and then we could ride up here together.”
“Ride?” Her smile faltered.
“In the truck.”
She released a breath. “Okay. I’ll bring my suit with me.”
“You know, if you’d give it a chance, I think I could help you get over your nervousness around horses.”
“I doubt it.”
“The woman I see before me is courageous. Not afraid to try something new.”
“Courageous. Me?”
“Yes. You.” He schooled his expression, wanting her to know he was serious. “Anna couldn’t have done any of this without you. You’ve been amazing.”
“Everybody’s done their part.” A pretty blush pinkened her cheeks. She turned away, as if suddenly interested in the surrounding trees and the sky above and the water cascading over rocks and spilling into the pool.
Chet was tempted to step up behind her and kiss her nape beneath the swing of her ponytail. But his feet stayed planted where they were.
She turned to look at him again. “Do you think it can succeed? Really and truly?”
“I think it might. Maybe not this summer, although if we can get the word out, August could be a good month.”
“I . . . I hope I’m around to get to see it.”
He understood the meaning behind those words. She was still looking for employment that would take her away from Kings Meadow. If I have anything to say about it, Mrs. Welch, you’ll still be here.
KIMBERLY COULDN’T SLEEP THAT NIGHT. SHE KEPT thinking about Chet and the hot springs. She kept thinking of all the reasons why letting her attraction for him go any further would be a bad, bad, bad mistake. But even so, she knew when she drove out to the ranch the next day, she would have her swimming suit with her, and she would go with him to the hot springs. It was inevitable—she had to.
“You know,” his voice whispered in her memory, “if you’d give it a chance, I think I could help you get over your nervousness around horses.”
Could he? Really? Tara would be surprised if Kimberly learned to ride. But it was silly to even consider it. She didn’t have time to take lessons and Chet didn’t have time to give them. They needed all hands on deck to make the Leonard Ranch Ultimate Adventures a success.
Sometimes she wondered if Chet took his cash flow issues seriously enough. Not that she had the details, but Anna had implied that bringing guests to the ranch this summer was critical for its survival. Was it? Kimberly knew all too well that blithely continuing on as if nothing were wrong could be dangerous for all concerned.
With a sigh, she sat up in bed and turned on the lamp on her nightstand. Then she reached for the notebook she’d started carrying with her everywhere. The first fifteen or so pages were filled with ideas and questions and calculations. Using a black gel pen, she wrote: How much must Chet make before the summer is over in order to improve his bottom line? She couldn’t come right out and ask him that question, but maybe she could get Anna to tell her more.
Only it wasn’t Kimberly’s business.
Or was it? Chet had asked her out. He’d kissed her. He’d asked her out again. Was that enough to make his finances any of her business?
No. It wasn’t enough. Still . . .
Chet wasn’t the type to spend time with a woman just for the sake of spending time with her. He would want a relationship to go somewhere. He would want it to lead to marriage. He didn’t have to spell that out to her. She knew it about him instinctively. It was who he was at his core. A Christian cowboy. A very good-looking, extremely appealing Christian cowboy.
Groaning softly, she pushed the notebook off her lap. Her gaze went to the clock. One o’clock and still awake. But she had to try to sleep or she would be worthless tomorrow. She turned off the light and slid down on the mattress, pulling the covers over her shoulders.
“You know, if you’d give it a chance, I think I could help you get over your nervousness around horses.”
It might be fun to try. It would please Tara. Maybe that alone would be reason enough to try.
Kimberly rolled onto her side and tucked an arm under the pillow. She had a lot to be thankful for, but more than anything she was thankful that the past three years hadn’t sent her daughter into a downward spiral. That could have happened so easily. Tara could have gotten into drugs or gangs. She could have run away from home. Or she could have done her best to make her mother’s life a living hell. That happened in many families, with or without some traumatic event shaking the foundation. But none of that had happened to them. Kimberly and Tara had a close relationship—most of the time. All things considered, that was no small miracle.
“Thank You, Lord,” she whispered as exhaustion tugged her toward slumber. “Please help me figure out . . . what You want . . . me to . . . do.”
Anna
1950
FIVE-YEAR-OLD RICHIE SLAMMED HIS BOOT HEELS into the pony’s sides but got little results for his efforts. The Shetland had a will as stubborn as his master’s.
Anna clucked to her gelding and rode up beside the boy. “Richie, honey, try to relax a little. This is supposed to be fun.”
“But he won’t go faster!” His voice rose in a whine. “I wanna go faster!”
The boy’s petulance had more to do with the somber mood in the ranch house the last few days than his pony’s lack of obedience. Violet had learned from the doctors, following a recent miscarriage, that it was unlikely she would be able to conceive again. The news had left Richie’s parents heartbroken.
“Tell you what,” Anna said. “You can ride with me on Champ. He likes to run.”
“Can I? Really?”
“Yes. This once.” She knew Abe wanted the boy to learn to ride his own pony rather than doublin
g up with adults, the way he’d been doing since he was six months old. But if it would keep Richie out from under foot in the house for a while, she thought Abe would approve. “Come on. Let’s put your pony up.”
A quarter of an hour later, Champ cantered away from the barn, Anna in the saddle, Richie right behind her, arms tight around her waist.
At the beginning of June, the grass in the fields was belly high in some places and a lush shade of green. Wildflowers were in abundance, too, splashing the valley floor and hillsides with yellow and pink, lavender and blue. White-faced cattle grazed in clusters, their calves cavorting nearby.
Eventually Anna slowed the gelding to a walk and guided him along a deer track into the forest. They climbed steadily up the mountainside, going higher and higher. “Think we can go high enough to touch the sky, Richie?”
“Nah. Can’t never touch the sky, Anna.”
“Are you sure? Well, that’s too bad.” She patted his hands with one of her own. “It would be fun to try. Guess we’ll do that another time.”
They rode in silence for another half an hour before the trail they followed burst through the trees and rose up to a rocky plateau. From there they could see the entire valley. They weren’t touching the sky, true enough, but they were gazing upon something beautiful all the same.
She wished she could paint like Miles. Perhaps then she could capture on canvas the splendor of this country. Perhaps she could show others how deep her love of this land had burrowed into her heart.
She wished she had some talent with words, but she wasn’t a writer. How did one go about describing all she could see with her eyes? What was that shade of blue overhead? What exactly was that scent on the breeze? Were there words adequate enough for any of it? Perhaps not.
Anna twisted around and took Richie by his upper arms, then lowered him to the ground. As the young boy stepped away from the horse, Anna dismounted and followed after him. They stopped a few steps back from the edge of the rocky outcropping. Richie reached up and slipped his small right hand into her left. She closed her fingers around his and squeezed tight.
In that moment the future blossomed in her heart. Her tomorrows spilled before her imagination. Life and death. Joy and sorrow. Laughter and tears. A life lived to the fullest.
“I promise, Lord,” she whispered, lifting her gaze. “I promise to live life abundantly.”
Twenty-eight
THE NEXT DAY, ON THE THIRD OF JULY, KIMBERLY gave her approval for the new website to go live. Leonard Ranch Ultimate Adventures was officially launched and ready to start booking guests for the months of August and September. It was nothing short of a miracle. So much had been accomplished in such a short period of time.
As she closed out of her e-mail program, the sound of laughter drew her up from the chair and out to the barnyard. The men who were constructing the new barn had left about an hour ago, she supposed to begin the three-day weekend a bit early. The voices she’d heard belonged to Tara and Pete. They were seated on the top rail of the corral, watching Sam and a young horse in what appeared to be a battle of wills. The horse arched his back and crow-hopped along the far side of the pen.
Crow-hopped? When had Kimberly learned that term? It made her smile, realizing she also knew what it meant. Not only that, but she could state with confidence the horse Sam rode was a buckskin, which meant the animal had a golden-brown coat with black mane, tail, and stockings.
When she was almost to the corral, she spied Anna seated on a bench in the shade of a nearby shed. She shifted her direction and went to join the older woman. As she sat beside Anna, she asked, “What’s so funny?”
Anna chuckled. “Nothing really. We’re giving Sam a hard time right along with that little horse there.”
As if in response to Anna’s words, the horse began to buck. Kimberly knew what that word meant too. It meant danger. It meant someone could get hurt. But the glimpses she caught of Sam’s face told her he wasn’t afraid. Just determined. As for Pete and Tara, they were having a grand old time. They whooped and laughed and shouted encouragement to Sam.
Anna patted Kimberly’s knee. “See how Sam stays relaxed and goes with the horse. He’s not going to fall. You can be sure of that. Watch. He’s going to give up the fight now.”
“Sam?”
“No, the horse.”
And just like that, the buckskin came to an abrupt halt in the center of the corral. His dark tail switched a few times. He twisted his head around, as if to give Sam a hard look. The boy said something to the horse in a low soothing tone.
“Did Wind Dancer ever buck like that with Tara?” Kimberly asked softly.
“You know, I couldn’t say for sure.” Anna gave Kimberly’s knee one more pat. “I guess you’d have to ask her.”
“I don’t think I want to know.”
“My dear, it would do you a world of good to get over this fear of yours. There is nothing more wonderful than riding a horse through this valley and up the trails in those mountains. Nothing like it.” Anna frowned. “Did something happen that made you nervous around horses? Did you get thrown or kicked?”
Kimberly shook her head. “No, nothing like that. I don’t know why I’m so nervous around them, really. It’s always been that way. Janet had to coax me onto her pony every single time when we were kids.” She looked toward her daughter, still seated on the fence. “Tara was born loving horses. It was simply always there. I think . . .” She looked at Anna again. “It would be fun if we could go riding together one day.”
A smile brightened Anna’s face. “Then let’s make that happen.”
“Could we . . . could we keep it a secret for a while? In case I fail miserably.”
“You won’t fail. Chet and I will see to that.”
CHET WAS HOT, GRIMY, AND SWEATY WHEN HE AND Blake rode into the barnyard. There wasn’t a whole lot of time before dinner would be on the table. He said good-bye to his hired hand and wished him a good holiday. Then he tossed the reins to Tara—all alone in the barnyard at the moment—and asked the girl to cool down the horse for him.
“Sure thing, Mr. Leonard.”
Chet headed for the house. Anna and Kimberly turned in unison when he entered the kitchen. Kimberly stirred something on the stove top. Anna was setting the table.
He spoke before either of them could. “I need a quick shower. Can dinner wait about fifteen minutes?”
“Sure.” Anna waved him toward the stairs. “You go on. We won’t eat without you.”
He glanced at Kimberly. “I won’t be long.”
She gave him a quick smile before turning back to the stove.
Chet didn’t have the words to describe what her smile did to his insides. Would giddy apply? No. He wasn’t the giddy sort. Never had been. Still . . .
In his bedroom, he yanked off his boots and dropped his dirty clothes into the hamper. He got into the shower, not minding that the water was cold at first. Not such a bad thing on a hot day like today. He lathered and rinsed faster than he’d ever done before.
Why all the rush? The family wouldn’t eat without him, like Anna had said. But hunger wasn’t the reason he hurried. He was eager to sit down with Kimberly. Across the dinner table. In his pickup. At the hot springs. All day he’d been filled with anticipation for the evening to come. And at some point during this long day, he’d realized he felt hopeful. Really hopeful. About everything. He was through trying to protect his heart. Time to toss any remaining caution to the wind. Nothing risked, nothing gained.
When he reentered the kitchen, his hair still damp from the shower, the three teens had joined Anna and Kimberly. They looked like a family, everyone helping, everyone knowing their places. Chet paused to study them, so perfect with each other. The brothers were getting along, and as of late, Pete and Tara had been acting more like best buddies than potential boyfriend and girlfriend. Was there a chance the six of them could become a real family?
The conversation during dinner was lively, especiall
y the retelling of Sam’s training session with one of the two-year-olds. While Kimberly looked at Sam, Chet looked at her. Something had changed about her, he thought. What was it? He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was definitely different.
When the meal was over, Anna volunteered Pete and Tara to do the dishes while Sam took care of the evening chores. Looking at Chet and Kimberly, Anna added, “You two scoot.” She flicked her hands toward the door. “Go on and enjoy your evening. The kids and I have a couple of movies to watch, so no need to hurry back.”
Chet resisted the urge to hug her, but he said thanks with his eyes.
Half an hour later, wearing swimming suits beneath their shorts and shirts—with towels and a blanket in the back, along with a dessert and a jug of pink lemonade in a picnic basket—Chet drove the truck away from the ranch complex. June had been dryer than usual, and a huge sand-colored cloud rose behind them as they headed north.
“You’ll never guess what I agreed to today,” Kimberly said, breaking the silence that had filled the cab.
Chet glanced over at her. “What’s that?”
“I agreed to learn to ride. Or at least to learn to be less afraid.”
His eyes widened as he returned his gaze to the dirt road, delight erupting in his chest.
“I’m as surprised as you are.” She laughed softly.
“What changed your mind?”
“I really don’t know. Perhaps because it will please Tara if I at least try.” She reached over and touched his right forearm, drawing his eyes back to her for a moment. “But don’t tell her. I want it to be a surprise.”
“That’s not going to be easy. Your daughter is here whenever you are.”
The Kings Meadow Romance Collection Page 17