A Place in Her Heart

by Carolyne Aarsen

  He tugged a glove off his one hand and reached out to her as he tipped his hat back with another, his smile a white slash against his tanned face. His rugged features completed the image of the working cowboy.

  “So this is where you ended up, Trevor,” Becky said with a nod of recognition. “I should have figured that out when I found out you were back.”

  “If you would have returned my phone calls you would have found out sooner that I was the newly appointed manager of the Triple Bar J.” Trevor grinned at her, still holding her hand. “I heard you were coming and made sure I was going to be in charge of the ride.”

  “When did you start here?”

  “A couple of weeks ago. In time to get in on this new thing the boss wanted to do with your magazine.” He angled his head to one side, his smile melancholy. “So why didn’t you call me back?”

  At one time, Trevor’s interest would have made her heart skip. Now she was more aware of Rick’s Jeep pulling up than a former boyfriend who had bruised her heart. “I had nothing to say.”

  “Well, do you have a smooch for an old boyfriend?” He slipped his arm around her shoulders, but Becky turned her head to one side.

  “You can have a hug, but forget the kiss.”

  “I thought you might at least text me, Becks,” he said, bumping her side lightly with his hip. “Like one of my Instagram posts. Didn’t you miss me?”

  Becky let her gaze tick over his dark hair, chiseled features finally resting on his soft brown eyes. “At first. A bit,” she admitted reluctantly.

  “But not after a while?” he asked. Becky shook her head, then turned, her heart giving a quick uptick as Rick closed the door of his vehicle, slung his camera bag over his shoulder and came walking toward them.

  He wore a faded denim shirt tucked into equally faded blue jeans and a pair of leather boots that had that soft wrinkled look of steady use. As he sauntered toward them in his loose-hipped walk, Becky’s heart started up again.

  Trevor easily rivaled Rick in the looks department and Trevor still had his arm across her shoulders. But it was Rick she couldn’t keep her eyes off of when he stopped in front of them, pulling his sunglasses off and glancing from Becky to Trevor who held his hand out to Rick.

  “You must be Rick Ethier. I’m Trevor Wilson. I’m in charge of the trail ride.”

  “And a few other things it seems,” Rick drawled, and shook Trevor’s hand, his eyes flicking over the other arm Trevor still had casually draped across Becky’s shoulder.

  “Trevor’s an old friend,” Becky said, surprised at Rick’s bristly tone. “Just returned from California via Colorado.”

  “I tried to convince Becky to come with me when I left, but she turned me down.” Trevor gave Becky a one-armed hug. “She’s got her roots down deep in the Holmes Crossing soil.”

  Becky laughed politely, gave Rick a bright smile and pulled herself gently out of Trevor’s hold. “Where should I put my things?” she asked Trevor, her eyes noting how Rick was avoiding her gaze.

  “I was told to show you two around the place first. Boss told me you wanted to get some pictures of the spread,” Trevor said. “The ride isn’t scheduled to go out until noon.” He grinned at Becky and made to put his arm around her again.

  Becky sidestepped and flashed him a warning look. “Lead the way.”

  Trevor had gathered a lot of information in the short time he had been at the ranch and was a knowledgeable and amiable guide. But Becky made sure to keep her distance.

  The ranch had been established at the turn of the century, when the only law was might made right, Trevor was telling them as if he approved of said law. The original owner was a remittance man, the youngest son of a wealthy family, sent over to the New World i.e. Western Canada in this case, because there was no land for him to inherit in England. He was one of the few who had turned his “remittance” from home into land and stock and slowly built up a small empire.

  This empire had suffered and prospered through economic ebbs and flows. It was currently owned by a cartel of various businesses, a few with vague connections to ranching and cattle. As Rick snapped pictures, Becky tried to figure how to work the businesses into the article.

  An hour and a half later they had worked their way back to the corrals, now a much busier place. People dressed in a variety of Western clothes stood either by their vehicles or by the corrals, watching the horses.

  Thankfully Trevor left them to go help saddle up. But Rick followed him, leaving Becky alone and wondering if he had regretted the moment at her parents’ place.

  Okay. She could be casual, too, if that was how Rick wanted to play it. She spun on her heel and strode over to chat to a couple she recognized from church. In turn she was introduced to a few more people. Becky was pleased to discover that not all the riders were experienced. It had been a few years since she’d been on a horse, and was a little nervous.

  “So I understand that’s your new boss.” The woman, Crystal who worked at the vet clinic angled her chin at Rick. She pushed her white straw cowboy hat off her head revealing a mop of bright red hair. Crystal reveled in being ‘different’. “He’s a sweetie,” she said with a wink at Becky.

  Becky glanced over her shoulder at Rick, who was resting his elbows on the corral fence, snapping pictures of the horses. Sweetie was not a word she would use with Rick, though at first sight, his poster-boy good looks could be deceiving. “He has his own charm,” she conceded.

  “Oh, c’mon, Becky. Admit it. He’s a looker.” Crystal gave Becky a quick hug. “I know a dozen young women who would agree. More than a dozen.”

  Crystal’s gushing was embarrassing. At the same time it was as if her avid interest in Rick pulled down another of the flimsy barriers Becky had erected against Rick and the very charm Crystal was so enthused over.

  Yet part of her was annoyed. Rick was so much more than his looks, and she resented the fact that people saw only that part of him.

  “I sure like what he’s done with the magazine.” Crystal squinted against the sun as if to see him better. “He’s really made a difference already.”

  “You don’t mind all the ads?”

  Crystal shrugged. “I don’t particularly care for them, and I do kinda miss Gladys’s corny advice that came with her recipes, but it’s a balance, isn’t it? I’ll tell you what I really like is the way Runaround Sue and Rick are always butting heads. Who is that girl? She’s a good writer.”

  “She’s wanting to stay anonymous for now,” Becky said vaguely, pleased with Crystal’s comment. “But I can pass it on.”

  “Well, you just pass that on to Rick right now. Don’t bother spending time with us older folks.” Crystal gave Becky a push in Rick’s direction at the same moment Rick looked over at her. Her momentum carried her toward him. To stop and turn around would have been sillier than to keep going.

  Casual and relaxed was called for, though Becky felt anything but.

  Weather. That was always a safe topic.

  “Trevor figures we won’t be seeing much cloud cover,” Becky said as she joined him at the fence. “You’ll get some nice shots.”

  “I’m looking forward to that.” Rick leaned his elbows on the corral fence, watching the wranglers and the horses, still holding his camera. “So how did you know Trevor?”

  “High school fling. I was the editor of the school newspaper, he was the rodeo king always trying to give the Hemstead boys a run for the money.” Becky joined him, stepping up on the first rail so she could see better. “Hardly the classic relationship of cheerleader, football quarterback, but those positions were already taken.”

  “So the old boyfriend has come back into your life.”

  Where did this cool tone in his voice come from? Becky tried to catch his gaze, but he was snapping pictures, using the rail as a rest.

  “No. Trevor has come back to the Triple Bar J. I’m hardly a concern.”

  “So that’s why you were able to make arrangements suddenl
y to come on the ride?” Rick asked, with a quick sideways look. “Because Trevor was back?”

  If Becky didn’t know better, she would have guessed he was jealous. “I didn’t know Trevor worked here until I got here.”

  “You didn’t keep up with his comings and goings?”

  “Not really,” she said. “The dust from his horse trailer leaving town had barely settled before I was on to other things.”

  This wasn’t entirely true. She had mooned around the house, listened to Ian Tyson singing “Someday Soon” for months afterward and dreamed about following Trevor on the rodeo circuit. She’d even corralled one of the Hemstead boys in church but he couldn’t give her any information. However, Trevor never called and Becky grew up and life flowed on, predictable and safe, her heart intact.

  “Was there ever anyone else?” Rick asked, his tone casual.

  “I’ve dated a few guys, but I grew up with most of the young men in Holmes Crossing and they all wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.”

  She wondered at Rick’s sudden interest as she rested her chin on her hands watching Trevor sorting the horses. “How about you, Rick? Any old loves in your life?”

  “I dated a few girls. Just never stayed in one place long enough to maintain a serious relationship.”

  A faint chill slivered through her, as if she was being warned. “Maybe you just haven’t met the right person,” she said carefully, hoping she sounded unconcerned. Then she made the mistake of looking sideways at him. He was looking at her and he wasn’t smiling.

  “That might be a reason,” he said softly.

  As she held his gaze, her heart gave a soft flip. And when he turned the camera to her and snapped a couple of pictures, she felt as if he had underlined his comment.

  “You can’t put those in the article,” she said with a light laugh.

  “I might find another use for them,” he said stepping off the fence. “We should go pick out our horses.”

  Half an hour later, Becky and Rick were part of a long column of riders snaking their way along a wooded trail heading through wooded and rolling sand hills. It had taken a bit of maneuvering on Rick’s part to get him and Becky to take up the rear together. Fortunately Becky didn’t know a lot about horses and Rick did. He’d been checking out the animals and made sure they ended up with passive horses. Now they were exactly where he wanted the two of them to be.

  As far away from this Trevor guy as possible.

  If it wasn’t for the fact that Becky seemed genuinely uninterested in Trevor’s obvious come-ons, he might have been more jealous.

  Which was a first for him.

  The sun was warm on his back, a faint breeze slid over his bared arms. Rick shifted in his saddle, each muffled footfall of the horse on the dirt path, each faint jingle of the horses’ tack pushing away the tension that gripped his shoulders and neck. The past couple of weeks had been stressful. On top of getting the art and design team in line with what he wanted the magazine to do, he’d been busy getting potential advertisers aligned with the vision of Going West, setting up a budget they could fall within, and yet, put out a quality magazine.

  The worst of his struggles were with the bank. He really shouldn’t be going on this trip. He should be trying to get creative about getting the cash flow of the magazine healthy. But when Becky said she was coming on the ride, the cash flow became slightly less of a priority.

  Becky turned around in her saddle, her hair loosely tied back, a few strands framing her face. “Isn’t this gorgeous?” she asked, her smile lighting up her features as she flung her arm to encompass the open space behind them, the hills ahead, the river tumbling over rocks below them. “On days like this, I love my job.”

  “I thought you loved it all the time?” Rick teased, pulling his horse up beside hers, encouraged by her welcoming smile.

  “I do, but honestly, Rick, this is amazing.” She shook her head, dropping it back to look up at a sky so blue it hurt. “What a beautiful country we live in.”

  Her good humor was infectious and Rick couldn’t help the smile that started inside and slowly migrated to his face. She rolled her head lightly, looking askance at him. “What do you think?”

  Rick reluctantly pulled his gaze away from Becky and let it flow over the valley they were heading up. He was surprised at the sense of peace and protection he felt.

  “It’s amazing, really. That all this just…is. A picture can’t begin to capture the depth and sweep of this valley.”

  “I lived in Holmes Crossing all my life and I still find new things to discover and appreciate.” Becky sighed lightly, leaning forward in the saddle. “I haven’t come here enough. I’m glad we could do this.”

  So was he.

  They crested a peak, then dropped down into a river valley, the horses ahead of them like a long train, wending its way over the trail.

  Rick tied the reins of his horse to the saddle horn and unpacked the camera from the saddlebag. He stopped his horse, and Becky’s stopped, as well. He snapped a few pictures of the riders ahead of them. Then, giving in to an impulse, turned and framed Becky against the backdrop of the river valley. Her bright red shirt created a sharp contrast to the azure sky, deep green trees and sparkling crystal water.

  “What are you doing?” She laughed, pushing her windblown hair back from her face. “I told you you’re not going to be putting those in the magazine. Conflict of interest and all that.”

  Ignoring her, he zoomed in on her face. But she didn’t look away. Her hazel eyes looked directly into the camera. The sincerity of her steady gaze and her warm smile slid into his heart. His finger trembled on the shutter as he took another picture, stored another memory.

  “We should get going,” Becky said as he lowered his camera, shaken by the innocent encounter. “We’re going to fall behind.”

  Rick only nodded as he replaced the lens cap as Becky nudged her horse ahead. He slowly slipped the camera back into the bag, buying himself some time, trying to find a place for the strange quiver of emotions she had aroused. Being attracted to a woman was nothing new. But he never felt this peculiar yearning mingling with the attraction. And he hadn’t even kissed her yet.

  Maybe that was the problem.

  His horse shook its head, jangling the bridle, signaling its impatience with Rick’s dithering. Rick untied the reins, toed his horse in the ribs and easily caught up to Becky.

  He kept his distance, watching her from behind as if seeing her for the first time. Occasionally she would throw back a long look that pulled at him, but he stayed where he was. He wasn’t sure what to do with the emotions she had raised in him with just one look. Just one touch.

  He had nothing to compare this to. He had never been, what might be technically called, “in love” with any other woman before. In college his friends had often waxed poetic about other women and he’d dated a number of women there, but never more than a couple of times and never long enough to get to know them the way he knew Becky.

  “You’re mighty quiet back there,” Becky said, angling her head back so he could hear her. “I hope I didn’t make some major faux pas that I have to apologize for.”

  “Not yet.”

  Becky let her horse slow down until he came alongside her. “That’s good, because I’ve been trying to figure out why you’re not trying to start an argument with me.”

  “Some of us like to look around and enjoy the scenery maybe instead of talking all the time,” he said, reaching for a teasing tone to his voice.

  “Point taken. I’ll be quiet.”

  “Think you can do it?”

  “You’re the one that’s talking now.”

  And a reply would only underscore her rather childish comment, so he kept quiet. And as long as the trail was wide enough, she stayed beside him, distracting him with her silence this time, instead of her words.

  Two hours later, they pulled their horses up in a shaded spot beside a brook that frothed and danced over a rock
bed, a counterpoint to the murmuring and groaning of the other riders.

  Rick slowly dismounted, his legs stiff from the ride. It had been over a year since he had ridden and he felt it in every muscle from his hips to his knees.

  Some of the other riders looked relaxed, others hobbled around looking even worse than Rick felt.

  “I didn’t even know I had muscles in the places I’m feeling them,” Becky moaned, slipping off her saddle. “I should have done some riding before this.”

  Rick moved around his horse to get her reins, but Trevor was right there. “Y’all okay, darlin’?” he drawled. “Saddle settin’ okay?”

  “You seem to have picked up a Texas accent to match your chaps,” Becky said with a laugh. “And my saddle is fine.”

  “Jest playin’ the part,” he returned with a grin. “I’ll tie up your horse. Go get something to drink or eat. Glenda will help you.” Trevor glanced over Rick’s horse. “How are you doin’? Everything good?”

  “I’m okay.” As if he’d admit to this cowboy that he was painfully aware of every muscle in his legs. “Beautiful ride.”

  “And more to come,” Trevor promised, all business now, his accent slipping away. “If you want, you can ride up in front. I can give you a bit of history of the place, point out some scenic views you might miss on your own.”

  “I’m doing okay at the back,” he said.

  As Rick tightened up the cinch strap he glanced over the top of his horse at Becky.

  Trevor intercepted the direction of his eyes. “She’s quite a woman, isn’t she? Always smiling, laughing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her angry.”

  Rick lashed his strap down, still watching Becky as he remembered hazel eyes snapping, that pert mouth tight with disapproval as they clashed over the direction of articles and the balance of advertising and content. “I have,” he said with a wry grin.