“Okay, fifteen of you and two of your leaders will come on a trail ride now. The others will stay here at the lake.” Tori pointed toward the small body of water. “Whoever wants to paddle a kayak may, or if you want to swim, that’s fine, too. There are other floaties, like that giant unicorn. Four of your leaders will be here for you, and my sister, Meg, will help the kayakers. My brother, James, and I will lead the trail ride.” She beckoned Ms. Johnson, the group leader, over. “If you’ll announce the first riders, please?”
The tall, thin woman nodded briskly and strode closer. She consulted her clipboard and began to read off the names. The girls moved to one side as their names were called. The blond who crushed on James clapped her hands and giggled as she joined her friends.
Seriously? She couldn’t be more than ten. Tori had not been that kind of kid. At ten, it had all been about horses, not boys, and especially not men three times her age. She shook her head.
The other leaders rounded up the remaining girls and headed to the cottages for swimsuits while Tori and her siblings began hoisting girls onto waiting horses.
“I’m Lillian,” the ringletted girl announced to James as he helped her onto Snowball.
Tori paused to watch.
“I’m James. My wife and I live here at the ranch. Where are you from?”
Tori stifled a chuckle as the child’s face saddened. And here she’d thought her brother hadn’t noticed.
“Medford,” mumbled Lillian, looking away. She gathered the reins.
“Have you ridden before?”
She nodded. “My daddy has horses.”
“All right then. Stay put until everyone is mounted up.”
James shifted to the next kid, and so did Tori. Soon she swung up onto Coaldust and let her brother lead the group out while Matt and Lionel, the teen employees, headed back to the stables to clean vacant stalls.
The girls fell into line behind James with their two chaperones interspersed among them. Lillian hung back, and Tori gave her a smile. “Off you go, and I’ll be right behind you.”
The girl sighed and nudged Snowball into motion. She glanced over her shoulder as though to ensure there was a rearguard. They filed around the north edge of the lake then James angled up one of the trails to the upper meadows, an easier route for inexperienced riders. Soon the path widened, allowing the riders to break out of their single line.
Lillian looked at Tori as she reined in alongside. “This is a nice horse. Is she for sale?”
Tori smiled and shook her head. “Snowball? No. She’s lived on the Flying Horseshoe since she was a foal, and her daughter was born here.”
“A baby horse?” Lillian’s blue eyes shone. “Can I see her?”
Tori chuckled. “Rosebud’s not little anymore. She’s two years old, and we’re training her for riders.” She leaned toward the girl. “But Snowball is going to have another foal in springtime.”
“Really?” Lillian reached down and ran a hand along the mare’s side. “There’s a baby in there?”
“There is. A horse is pregnant for most of a year, but Snowball is fine being ridden this summer. She likes getting into the mountains.”
“I like it, too.” The girl sounded wistful. “We don’t have mountains in Boston.”
“No, I guess you don’t.” Saddle Springs might chafe at Tori these days, but she couldn’t imagine living in a big eastern city. Some of the chaperones taught at the all girls’ school. They probably made pretty good money, but that wouldn’t be enough to lure Tori away from Montana’s ranching country.
The battle raged inside her. Leave everything she knew behind and get her teaching degree? Or stagnate as an old maid, working for her parents until they died and she became part owner of the Flying Horseshoe by default? No kids of her own, just the maiden aunt to Sophia and Aiden and any kids James and Lauren ever had. She’d get the house, since her sister and brother had their own newer builds around the end of the lake.
That future stretched in front of her in chilly, dismal gray, contrasting sharply to the warmth and beauty in the high meadow today. Brilliant orange Indian Paintbrushes beamed amid yellow balsamroot, deep purple gentians, and dainty white woodland stars. Pinky-purple fireweed climbed the steep slope across the meadow where a mudslide had taken out a strip of forest a few years back.
Bumblebees danced among the flowers, not audible amid the creaking leather, grunting horses, and chattering girls.
Tension oozed out of Tori as she took off her hat and tilted her face toward the sun, allowing the sweet fragrance of the meadow drift into her awareness. Somehow, she had to keep this, no matter what happened. No matter that Garret didn’t love her. No matter that no one besides her family did.
Around her, the girls dismounted, intent on picking bouquets to decorate their cabins. Lillian slid off Snowball and joined them.
Only then did James sidle closer on Jigsaw and pull up beside Tori. “Wow, that one is quite the kid.”
Tori chuckled. “Lillian? Yeah. Poor little city girl in love with a big, brusque cowboy.”
He rolled his eyes. “In love? That’s what you call a kiddie crush these days?”
“Let her down gently.” She wished Garret had done the same instead of abandoning her on the dance floor.
“I think I did.” James studied her as he lifted his hat to scrub a hand through his hair. “You doing okay?”
“Did Lauren put you up to this conversation? Because I don’t think you’ve ever asked me that in my entire life.”
He laughed. “Maybe. But it’s a good question. You seem kind of quiet lately.”
Tori shrugged. “I’ll be fine. Just struggling a bit on what to do with the rest of my life. Is this my calling, herding rich people’s kids around and trying to make sure no one gets hurt?”
“I get that.” James scanned the group in the meadow. “I was restless, too, before things were settled with Lauren. Sometimes I felt trapped. I couldn’t let Mom and Dad down, but I couldn’t face Saddle Springs, either.”
Her eyebrows hiked. Of course. Her brother was so much more introverted than she was, and even more tied to the ranch since he was the only son. “But then Lauren.”
He gave her a sidelong look. “I was two years older than you before Lauren.”
“Only because you were too fixated on waiting because of your silly teenage promise instead of sweeping her off her feet years earlier.”
“Yeah. Kind of.” He combed his fingers through Jigsaw’s blond mane, and the pinto shivered in delight. “But I didn’t recognize that at the time. I just knew the decades stretched ahead of me with little to look forward to.”
Tori swiveled in her saddle and stared hard at him. He did know. He did get it. “Yeah. Kind of where I’m at. Except I’m done deluding myself that there might be a change if I just keep waiting.”
“You don’t know that.”
“So you’re saying to just sit tight and wait? Wait for what, James? A miracle?”
“They happen every day.” He grinned.
“Not to me.” She narrowed her gaze as his grin stayed glued beneath bright eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Just wanted you to know you’re going to be an aunt again.”
“You’re telling me Lauren is pregnant?”
He nodded, and she leaned over and slugged his arm. “Congratulations. I think.”
She wanted to be excited for them, but it was hard when she wanted the same thing for herself so badly.
“Thanks. Lauren’s puking a lot. She might hate me round about now.”
“Then she’ll hate you more when she’s actually giving birth.”
He let out something between a laugh and a huff. “Probably.”
“When’s the baby due?”
“Early February.” He stared off for a minute.
Tori followed his gaze toward the group of girls and their leaders clustered around a fallen log. All seemed well.
“Remember when Sophia was born?” he ask
ed. “I was smitten when Meggie and Eli brought her home and I held her for the first time. I was so jealous of Eli. He had everything I wanted.”
“Megan?” Tori kept her voice light.
James shot her a horrified look. “Not my sister, silly. But a wife. A baby. Just to be settled with a family, even though Eli says they didn’t get a decent night’s sleep for over a year.”
A lot like she felt now. The longing was greater with her brother’s words than it had been this morning, and it had nearly swamped her then.
James and Lauren had both waited for the other to make a move. Tori wasn’t like either of them. She’d told Garret how she’d felt, and he’d walked away.
If there was to be another step in their dance, it was up to him. But there wouldn’t be. He’d been clear.
Garret crashed his hands onto the keyboard. Why would that new tune not leave him alone? It had been fine. He’d enjoyed working with the soulful measures until the lyrics had manifested themselves. Now he wanted a different melody. Anything else.
Hazel eyes with glints of green and brown and gold.
Gazing into the windows of your soul,
Everything you think is mirrored there—
I’m powerless against...
He’d felt even more powerless since he’d seen Chantelle’s flyer. Oh, he’d never written an ode to her blue eyes, but he’d certainly lost himself in their shining depths.
He’d trusted her. Loved her. Convinced himself she loved him in return. That had been oh, so false.
Tori didn’t love him, either. She was unlikely to stab him in the back like Chantelle had done, gutting his promising career, but Tori couldn’t love him. She didn’t know him.
Whose fault was that?
His. Everything was his fault. He was unable to open up and trust again. He wasn’t made for long-term. Even Jenna would likely have found him wanting and left him at some point. Her death on their wedding night had taken the choice out of her hands, but Garret knew. He’d have messed up somehow, despite his best intentions, and she’d have given up.
Would she really? The rebuttal niggled him.
Sure, she would have, because Garret wasn’t made to be loved. He was defective somehow.
He forced his hands back to the keys and played Ten Thousand Reasons. Forced Matt Redman’s worshipful lyrics through his mind. Forced himself to bless the Lord.
No. He pushed away from the piano. He couldn’t do it.
Not when his anger at Chantelle consumed him. His turmoil over Tori. His denial over his mom’s cancer, which was every bit as invasive and advanced as his worst fears had been. He’d talked to the oncologist himself, but the man had patiently explained why treatment was not the right choice. It wasn’t just Mom being deluded. See? Even she would leave him, probably in the next few months.
The pathway in his mind had become a deep rut he seemed unable to swerve out of. He could see it, but why fight it? It was based in truth.
He strode out of the music room and out the front door, blinking a little at the evening sun angling toward him, so opposite the storms inside.
Even God couldn’t possibly love him like this. He’d embraced faith when his new mom had explained the Christmas story. He’d been a small child desperate to be accepted and loved, and Jesus sounded pretty cool. Not only did Jesus love him, his new mom did, too. It could only get better from here, right?
Wrong.
Yeah, he’d had a good childhood after the memories of his mother’s lifeless body stopped waking him at night in a cold sweat. Nancy was an excellent pianist and offered lessons to neighborhood kids. Kellen, five years Garret’s senior, had hated practicing. Garret had barely been able to wait for his brother to slide off the piano bench so he could climb up there and do it right.
Add Kellen to the long list of people who despised him.
Mom had let Kellen quit soon after and focused on teaching Garret, then got him a more advanced teacher when he outstripped her abilities in his early teens.
He’d really thought he was something back then.
The truth was much, much less. Just a thirty-year-old who could ride, write a little music, and play piano. Whatever. That was certainly no claim to fame.
Not like Chantelle Devereaux, who’d climbed the ladder on the backs of others... like him. No longer content with keyboarding for the band, now she was headlining.
He pulled the flyer from under a pile of paperwork on his desk in the stable’s office and carried it out to the corral. Then, with fumbling hands, he lit the sheet. He watched the flame spread across the paper until it was consumed then stomped the remains into the dirt.
If only he could wipe away the traces in his heart.
Chapter Thirteen
“You’re so good with the girls.”
“Thanks.” Tori angled a glance toward Deb Gosselin, one of the chaperones for the girls’ school, as the woman settled beside her on the sandy beach.
“Have you ever thought of becoming a teacher? The Lord only knows how much the world needs teachers who really love kids this age.”
Really, God? Pray for guidance and get a stranger’s encouragement? “The thought has crossed my mind a few times.”
“Really?” Deb’s face lit up. “Any school would be honored to have a teacher like you. I saw how gently you and your brother let Lillian down without crushing her and how patiently you’ve worked with all of them in teaching riding and plant identification and, well, everything.”
The praise made Tori uncomfortable, but it also warmed her heart. “Just doing my job.”
“More than that. We’ve taken the girls to a lot of unique locations over the years I’ve worked at the school. Not everyone makes the effort you do at the Flying Horseshoe to partner with us in providing a nurturing and encouraging learning environment. We teachers have all spoken to Ms. Johnson about offering the guest ranch as an annual excursion.”
Nearby, most of the girls played in the water, diving off the raft, kayaking, or trying to tip the giant inflatable flamingo. A few lay on the beach in swimsuits, slathered in tanning lotion. Tori remembered being their age, tipping back and forth from childhood to maturity like riding a playground teeter-totter.
“Thank you. We’re honored. We’d need to work with you on dates for next summer soon, though, since your school needs every available cabin. We already have a number of bookings for next year.”
“Good point, and I can see why you’re booked so far in advance.” Deb glanced toward the main house. “Whom do we see about starting that process?”
“Usually my sister Meg, but she’s as busy as anyone this week with you all here.”
“And she has such adorable children, too. What an idyllic place to raise a family.”
Tori’s heart squeezed at the thought of leaving the Flying Horseshoe or even Saddle Springs. “It’s a great environment. So, you’d be best off catching my mom, Amanda. She can log into the database and put a hold on a week or two while your school admin determines if a return trip is what they’d like to do.”
“I’ll be sure to do that. Your mom is great. Everyone here is. It’s been an exceptional few days.” Deb jutted her chin toward the sunbathers. “Even the most hormonal have settled in.”
Peyton and Aubrey had been the most disdainful of riding stinky smelly horses, but they’d come around. Tori stifled a chuckle. “On their own terms, but yes.”
Deb leaned back, her arms braced in the sand. “You’re really thinking of becoming a teacher? I can imagine how hard it would be to leave this place.”
“That’s the dilemma for sure.” Tori cast her new friend a sidelong glance. “We all had to pitch in after my dad’s accident, and I don’t regret that.” Much. “But maybe now...”
“I wondered what happened to him.”
“A freak farming accident. He was cleaning out a piece of equipment when someone flipped on the auger absentmindedly. It caught his legs.” Tori still shuddered at the very thought of how
much worse it could have been.
Deb shook her head, eyes brimming with sympathy. “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been. How much courage was required. You’re a strong family.”
“Our faith in Jesus is what kept us going. On our own, we’re no stronger than anyone else.”
“I’ve seen that faith in action this week. It’s commendable.”
Politeness nudged Tori to thank the teacher for those words, but it wasn’t right. “It’s not us. Trust me. It’s all God. For every bit of honor we offer Him, He provides the peace and faith for the next round. It’s like a cycle.”
“Interesting.” Deb watched the girls swim for a few minutes.
Was it really like a cycle? Offer faith, receive both blessing and trial, which, when accepted, brought more faith to offer up? It sounded so simple.
It was anything but simple. They’d nearly lost Dad ten years back. Then they’d feared his legs would need to be amputated. Then came the realization he’d never walk again without help. That he was a rancher who couldn’t ride. Couldn’t drive a tractor. Couldn’t clean a barn.
But they’d held onto each other and held the faith. Well, except for Meg, but she’d come back around. All those nightmarish experiences had taught their family the truth of Romans 8:28, that all things did work together for good, for those who loved God and were called according to His purpose.
They’d forged a new path for the Flying Horseshoe, one God had blessed. Through it, Tori could share her faith with guests like Deb, who’d taken the time to get to know her a little.
Could she do more as a teacher? Not in a public school, but maybe in a private one, if it were a Christian one. But then she’d be preaching to the choir, not reaching out to those who needed words of comfort and courage the most.
She could do that here.
But was it enough?
“Please give grace and peace through this difficult time, and we ask for Your will to be done. In Jesus’ name, amen.” Pastor Roland raised his head to smile at Mom, who lay on the sofa, covered with a fuzzy throw even in the July heat.
The Cowboy's Belated Discovery Page 9