by Leigh Riker
Nell shuddered, remembering the calf’s mother lying so still, her body already cooling on the blood-soaked ground. “Not on the NLS, they don’t. Not like that. And I know that land as well as I know my face in a mirror.” As well as Cooper used to know every inch of his family’s ranch. “Bear didn’t step in a hole and there were no bogeymen lying in wait—”
“Nell,” her mom said in that chiding tone she’d heard since childhood.
“Well, you’re being just as ridiculous. If you came out here to sway me, I told you I’m fine and so is the NLS.” In her work-worn jeans with the hole in one knee and a shapeless gray T-shirt that should be in the ragbag, the contrast between Nell and her mother couldn’t have been starker. “I’m always happy to see you, but you changed your schedule today for no reason. What was it, a tennis date this morning?”
“A lunch with friends at The Stockyard.” The popular upscale restaurant in the city was her mother’s favorite, an irony not lost on Nell. Beef cattle were the business of the ranch, and the Sutherlands were purveyors of meat for many classy restaurants. But not Elsie, never that. Earlier, Nell had watched Cooper ride out to see to the cow, a backhoe for burial following his horse.
“You make me sound shallow, sweetie,” Mom said.
“Of course you’re not. Are you a chic city girl since you and Dad abandoned the ranch? Yes, and I still love you,” Nell said, “but I wish you’d stop expecting me to come live in that spare bedroom—”
“It’s your bedroom. Always waiting,” she said as if she couldn’t resist.
“—so you can introduce me to every eligible male from thirty to forty you think would make a good husband. If I wanted a man, I’d find one.” Nell repressed any mental image of Cooper. He’d been her first love, the boy she daydreamed about whenever they weren’t together, the one she’d expected to marry and have a family with, the man with whom she’d hoped to grow old. No wonder she wouldn’t discuss that with him.
Her mother threw up her hands. “If I want grandchildren before I’m too decrepit to enjoy them, I guess I’ll have to work on Jesse.”
“I wish you would.” Nell put an arm around her mother’s shoulders and walked her into the house, where her still-smooth face immediately showed distaste. “Really, why has no one ever updated this relic?” She went from the front hall into the living room on the right, looked at the scarred wooden floor, which in Nell’s view gave it character, the walls that hadn’t seen fresh paint in decades, the flattened cushions in a faded Western print on the large sofas that flanked the huge stone fireplace. There were cold ashes on the hearth, and the smell of burnt logs hovered in the air. “If you insist upon living here, why not at least hire a decorator?”
“And wipe out generations of history?” To Nell, it was a cozy place. “I love this house the way it is. I can feel PawPaw here, and Gram, and Dad and...you,” she finished.
Mom wrinkled her nose. “I was never meant for ranch life. The day your father carried me over this threshold I cried all night. The mattress in our bedroom must have been stuffed with horsehair a hundred years ago. It was rock hard, like trying to sleep in a coffin—and I almost wished I hadn’t married your father.”
“But you did. And you lived here for how long?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Sixteen years, thirty-seven days and nine hours.”
Nell sighed. “But who’s counting, right?”
Her mother trailed a finger over an end table, checking for dust. Her finger came away coated, and from the designer bag she carried, she drew a tissue to wipe her hands. Grimacing as if she’d stepped in cow manure, she tipped her head toward Nell. “The point is, I never fit in here. I tried because I thought your dad wanted to help PawPaw, which he did, and inherit the NLS, which he didn’t. When I found that out, I knew at last where we really belonged.”
“I’m glad you’re happy where you are,” Nell said, “but so am I.”
“Working yourself to death twenty-four hours a day? Endangering your life?”
“I wasn’t in danger last night, Mom. I had Cooper...and Jesse with me.” She didn’t mention that her brother hadn’t done much—except nearly get his nose bloodied.
“Among a bunch of coyotes? I may not be a rancher’s wife any longer, but I haven’t forgotten the threat those animals pose. We lost several calves and a foal when I lived here. Why didn’t you let the men chase after them?”
“The pack was all but gone when we got there, and Cooper and I both had shotguns.”
Her mother’s gaze sharpened. “Cooper,” she echoed.
She’d said his name just like Jesse had. Nell focused her gaze on the fireplace, where a parade of family pictures in old-fashioned frames marched across the heavy marble mantel.
“This is your mother speaking.” She turned Nell to face her. “Oh, baby, do you think I’ve forgotten? Watching you grieve for that boy? Your heart broken in two?”
Boot heels thumped on the porch stairs, and a second later, Cooper walked into the house, pausing only to rap a quick announcement of his presence on the front door frame. He came into the living room and stopped cold, then removed his hat. “Mrs. Sutherland.”
“Hello, Cooper,” she said coolly, her gaze raking him from head to toe. Her eyes widened. With his grimy hands twisting his battered hat, his jeans smeared with mud and...Nell didn’t want to think what else...his shirt unbuttoned halfway, he looked no better than Nell did. Hard work wasn’t pretty. Still... “You’ve grown up,” her mother said.
Cooper shifted from one foot to the other. “I hope so, ma’am.” He looked at Nell. “Sorry to interrupt, but I got the cow settled. You can go see her spot under that big cottonwood tree whenever you like.”
“Thanks.” Nell’s throat had closed at the mention of Elsie. She didn’t want to talk about the cow, but neither did she want to continue the conversation she’d been having with her mother about Cooper. “You have time for a cup of coffee? I was going to make a pot.”
“No, the farrier’s finally here.” He plopped his hat on his head and touched its brim with one finger. “Ma’am. Nell.” He walked out the door, escaping before she could find another reason to keep him there.
“Well, my. I must say he’s grown up nicely,” her mom said, then frowned. “All the more reason for you to be cautious. The worst thing I can imagine would be my daughter marrying the man who nearly destroyed her years ago.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to marry anyone.”
Though she guessed that wasn’t the answer her mother wanted either.
* * *
THE NEXT DAY, Cooper watched Nell dismount from her horse, the sun gleaming on the gold glints in her hair. Holding Bear’s reins, she walked over to the cottonwood tree not far from a spring where the cattle liked to drink. Kneeling as she had the other night, she rested a hand on the mound of churned earth where the calf’s mother lay buried. “I’ll get a stone for her,” he said.
“You don’t find that silly?”
“Of course not.” Cooper understood her respect and affection for the animals in her care. He was glad he’d suggested marking the spot, as it had brought a half-smile to Nell’s face, a softer look to her eyes. “For two animal lovers,” he said, “I can’t think of a better idea for Elsie’s resting place.”
Stepping back to give her space, he studied the land around them. The herd had drifted off, tails swishing like flyswatters. They lowed softly, almost resembling a sweet dirge, yet their grieving seemed over. They were moving on.
As they topped the small rise farther off that flowed onto the former Ransom ranch, he heard another sound though. Cooper tensed. Coyotes, or at least one. It wasn’t like them to be so active during the height of the day, but maybe they’d decided to search for any remains of their feast anyway. “Nell. We should go.”
She was already turning from the grave to her horse. “What is it
?”
A disturbed murmuring had broken out among the herd, and several cows with their calves picked up their pace. The steers among them followed.
“The pack must be close by.” This could be their chance.
“I can come back later,” Nell said, stuck her left foot in the stirrup and smoothly swung into her saddle. Before Cooper urged his horse into a lope, she’d reached the ridge. “I don’t see any coyotes—”
“—which doesn’t mean they aren’t here.”
Beside her, Cooper listened but didn’t hear another howl. Had he been mistaken? In silence, they rode on, gazes sweeping the area before them, taking in each brush and tree that could be used to hide the pack as they passed by. Drawing a pair of binoculars from his saddlebag, he glassed the area. Empty, nothing but the land—his land just over there. “Elusive creatures, aren’t they?”
“Deadly too,” she said, one hand resting on the stock of the shotgun sheathed in a scabbard by her leg. “Nothing would give me more satisfaction than to take revenge for Elsie’s...death.”
“We’ll get ’em, Nell. If not today, then soon.”
We, he’d said. But to his relief, she didn’t take offense. Just then, a lone coyote burst from the underbrush and started running across the open range between them. Cooper reached for his shotgun at the same instant Nell did hers. Almost simultaneously, they got off two shots before the coyote streaked under a gap in the far fence and, yipping, disappeared.
“Winged him maybe,” Cooper said, shoving his shotgun in its sheath. He surveyed the range. “Seems strange it was alone when we’ve heard a number of them before.” Maybe they could flush out more.
By now, without his noticing, they’d passed over the original boundary again from the NLS. He stretched his legs by standing in the stirrups. Ransom land. She must realize where they were, but when Nell didn’t object he rode on, his pulse pounding, half hunting for another coyote, half enjoying the view and just being here. There was the overgrown trail he’d ridden with his dad, learning to cowboy at his side; the stand of trees where he’d first kissed Nell...and down that slope ahead, he saw the house.
He expected Nell to rein Bear around and head onto the old NLS, tell him he didn’t live here anymore and never would again. But her next words weren’t those he’d anticipated.
“Let’s take a look,” she said, and without glancing his way, cantered down the slope. Maybe she had some idea to tear down the house and barns, use that acreage for extra grazing land. He wondered why she and Ned hadn’t done that already or at least rented out the house.
At the front steps, they dismounted. Cooper’s pulse kept speeding as if he were on some racetrack, accelerating into the corners. Leaving the two horses ground tied, they walked up onto the porch. Cooper heard a loose board creak and leaves and bits of brush littered the floor. “I don’t have a key,” he said.
Nell twisted the knob on the front door. It protested at first, the lock badly in need of some oil, but then it gave and the wooden door swung open. “Aha, just as I thought. You know PawPaw doesn’t believe in keys. He always says, so far from the road, who would even guess a house was here?” It was true; the former Ransom ranch had a long, winding driveway from the gates, which Cooper had seen again on his way to the NLS that first day before Nell hired him.
On the threshold, he hesitated. His family’s house had dirt and debris scattered over this lower floor. The sight shocked him, yet a tidal wave of memories washed over him.
“At Christmas, there was always a wreath on this door,” he said.
Obviously remembering too, Nell added, “The dining room table would also be set with your mother’s best china.”
Cooper smiled. “Inherited from her mother, and we always used my dad’s family’s silver carried by a long-ago relative from the east when they headed west in a covered wagon.”
Nell blinked. “I wonder how many holidays we all shared here.”
Oh, Mom, he thought. Except for the trash, the rooms were empty now—the living room where she’d read to him each night by the fire, the kitchen with all the appliances pulled out and shipped to Chicago. He pointed. “This half bath in the hall that’s really a quarter bath, just a toilet in the revamped space of a closet, is still here too,” he said, glancing at Nell.
“Sad, isn’t it though? The whole house seems sad.” She paused. “And yet there are happy memories here too.”
She had an odd expression on her face, taking this trip down memory lane with him, that must have mirrored Cooper’s expression. Upstairs, the rooms looked cleaner, but the master was also bare. “My parents’ vintage brass bed is in my mom’s apartment in the city now,” he told Nell. “And she still uses that old Singer sewing machine she had here.”
Nell rolled her eyes. “She made me such cute little dresses.”
“Which you wore now and then to please her,” he said with a smile.
Nell wasn’t one for skirts. At the end of the hall, they came to the room that had been a nursery after he was born, then a little boy’s space, occasionally lonely for the only child he’d been but more often his place, and his alone. Cooper’s room held even more memories. With Nell. He ran a hand over the door latch.
“In my teens, I installed this small lock for privacy. Remember?”
“We spent a lot of time here,” she said, looking around, “doing homework—”
He raised his eyebrows. “Making out...”
Nell’s cheeks turned pink. “Until your mother knocked at the door and we sprang apart like guilty thieves. Oh, Cooper.” Her expression shifted again, softening, and without another word, Nell slipped her arms around his waist, then laid her head against his pounding heart. He hugged her in return, but the embrace didn’t last long. Nell drew away, her gaze downcast in what might have been embarrassment for initiating that touch, and she took a few steps toward his bedroom door. “Well. Hmm.” She cleared her throat.
“Nell, thanks for coming with me, but please don’t regret it. I’m glad we shared this. I think it helps to revisit who we were then.” Even though she hadn’t wanted to do so the other day. “And you don’t have to act tough all the time. It’s okay to show your softer side, to just...be a woman. A woman with a big heart.”
“Don’t let that go to your head.” The throat clearing again. Another glance into the hallway as if she were waiting for rescue. “Let’s explore the rest of the house while we’re here.”
Suppressing a sigh, Cooper clattered down the steps behind her. He didn’t trust himself anyway to be alone with her in this place that held so many memories, especially the better ones that made him wish for their long-ago friendship and that first love. “We should be careful. No telling what shape this structure may be in by now, but it was solidly built at the end of the last century—like Ned’s house—so I hope not that bad.”
At the bottom of the stairs, Nell faced him. “Meaning you do plan to fix it up. For your mother,” she said accusingly.
“I told you what she wants, Nell. What I want.”
She squared her shoulders, pressed her lips together as if to keep from saying, No, you won’t get this house, this ranch. I don’t care about the past we shared. I don’t care about you.
Yet, the very air in these rooms—his old room—had changed the dynamic between them somehow, and underneath her determination to run the NLS and keep his land as part of it, he sensed she also understood.
CHAPTER EIGHT
EXHAUSTED, NELL TRUDGED from the barn to the house. As soon as she opened the door, she smelled dinner. In the kitchen, her mother bustled around, stirring a pot, setting plates on the table, pausing to take a sip of the coffee she’d poured into a mug. She tossed Nell a grin.
“Wonder how many suppers I’ve made in this house. I knew just where to find everything—as if I still lived here.” She rolled her eyes. “Not that I ever will ag
ain. I decided you could use a home-cooked meal.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Nell reached into the refrigerator for a bottle of water, then took a few sips, reminded of her afternoon jaunt with Cooper to his old home. He hoped to make his mother’s wish come true, but that would also give them squatters’ rights of a sort on their former land, which wouldn’t please Nell or her grandfather at all. “I appreciate that. You don’t have to stick around for me though. I’m sorry Jesse made you worry.”
Nell supposed Cooper, as a son, felt much the same about his mom. He certainly remembered his old home and the happy memories there. For a short while in his bedroom, she’d felt...close to him again. However, that didn’t mean she’d had to put her arms around him.
“Don’t frown, baby girl. You’ll put lines in that pretty face.”
“Was I frowning? Just tired, I guess,” she said. When the door opened again and her brother walked in, she was grateful for the interruption. Her mother had a way of getting things out of Nell, and she wasn’t about to discuss the afternoon. Or Cooper.
Jesse threw his sweat-stained hat on the table, narrowly missing a place setting at the end seat. “Cooper says you two shot up a coyote today.”
“We shot at a coyote. Maybe we hit him, but I’m not sure.” She took a breath. “Where were you? I thought you were going to brand the last of the calves, then muck stalls at the south side of the barn.” When Nell had quit work for the day, she’d noticed none of that had been done. “If you’re so set on being part of the NLS after all these years, I’d suggest you pitch in.” Nell hadn’t forgotten how he’d lagged behind that night when she and Cooper found Elsie.
“Children,” their mother murmured, tapping a spoon against a pot.
Jesse’s mouth flattened. “I went with Clete to mend that gap in the fence where the calf got caught. Not my favorite part of this business, but I’ll pay my dues to get what I want.”