Indian Summer

by Amy Elizabeth

  INDIAN SUMMER

  A Novel by

  Amy Elizabeth

  ASPEN EYES SERIES

  Cut and Run

  Indian Summer

  Showdown

  Also by Amy Elizabeth:

  Dead Heat

  Singled Out (Breaking Pointe #1)

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  INDIAN SUMMER

  Copyright © 2013 by Amy Elizabeth

  All rights reserved.

  Prologue

  Alec stood at the edge of the cliff face, staring across the enormous chasm that opened before him. The sun overhead was concealed by a thick cloud of dust, casting an impenetrable gray glaze across the landscape. Each breath he pulled into his lungs held the bitter, unmistakable scent of death.

  His fingers were still clenched around the cool steel of his revolver, though the metal was slowly warming against his skin. He knew if he turned around that he would see two things–the life he’d been forced to take, and the life he was trying to save.

  Right now he couldn’t bear the sight of either one.

  From behind him, a gentle pair of arms encircled his waist. He didn’t need to turn his head to see who it was. He knew the feel of her touch. He knew everything there was to know about her. He even knew what she was going to say before she said it.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Alec,” she whispered in his ear. “None of this was your fault.”

  With a start, Alec jerked awake. Every muscle in his body was rigid and his skin was slick with a cold, nervous sweat. He stared wide-eyed at the wooden beams of the ceiling, trying to decipher his surroundings.

  He wasn’t standing on Trapper’s Ridge; he was lying in his bedroom at the farmhouse. He turned his head just to be certain, and sure enough, his wife lay sleeping peacefully beside him.

  Moving quietly so he wouldn’t disturb her, he peeled back the covers and rose to his feet. Then he walked over to the window and released a long, slow breath, willing himself to calm down.

  He used to have nightmares all the time, right after it happened. He was also plagued with bouts of insomnia that would go on for days, even weeks. But these past few years, since he’d been married, his mind had settled and his sleep was usually undisturbed.

  So what on earth was going on this week?

  It was the fourth straight night he’d been haunted by the same terrible dream. Each time he stood on the edge of the ravine, and each time she appeared in a futile attempt to comfort him. Last night his dream had continued just a little while longer, long enough for him to turn around and see the grief in her black eyes.

  She looked so different than his wife, but she was no less beautiful.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said to her.

  And even in the depth of his dream–even though it had all happened so long ago–he could still detect the subtle scent of vanilla on her skin as she lifted her hand to touch his face.

  “So am I.”

  Chapter 1

  Three months earlier

  A steady flow of snowflakes drifted through the air, spiraling in tiny circles on their descent from the low clouds. Against a world of white, the colt resembled a polished statue, his black coat glimmering like a gemstone. His long whiskers were encased in ice crystals, but the horse seemed impervious to the bitter February day. Arrogantly he tossed his head and spun on his haunches, arching his neck as he trotted through the powdery snow.

  Alec Westin stood in the center of the round pen, watching the young horse circle around him. He held no rope or whip; the colt wore no halter or bridle. He made the slightest movement with his hand, and the colt bounded into a canter, his powerful muscles bunching and stretching with each stride. Then Alec shifted his stance and lowered his hand, and the colt instantly came to a stop.

  He couldn’t help but smile as he motioned the horse closer. His registered name was Obsidian Shadow, but to everyone on the Flying W, the beautiful colt was simply Shadow. The horse was the spitting image of his sire, Onyx, but he’d inherited his gentle, eager-to-please temperament from his dam, Star. Just shy of three, he wasn’t quite old enough to back a rider yet. If his ground manners were any indication, though, the colt was going to have incredible potential.

  Shadow let out a hearty sigh as he ambled into the center of the round pen and dropped his head into his trainer’s arms. Alec squeezed a few ice crystals from the horse’s eyelashes before he smoothed his hand down his forelock.

  “Nice work, buddy,” he praised, giving Shadow a well-earned pat on the neck.

  A gust of wind pushed against his back, reminding him that the storm was moving in. He checked his watch and frowned when he saw that it was already four o’clock. It would be dark soon. He turned his gaze to the farmhouse, which was barely visible through the falling snow, and his stomach sank when he saw that the driveway was still empty.

  Shadow butted his shoulder, as if telling him not to worry. “You’re right,” he told the colt. “She’ll be fine.”

  He turned to open the gate, and Shadow followed him towards the barn. The snow was nearly to Alec’s knees, and there was more in tonight’s forecast. The winter systems had moved like clockwork this year, descending from Canada every week to blanket the landscape with a fresh coat of powder. Temperatures were unusually cold, as well.

  Since the first of the year, the warmest day had been a bone-chilling eleven degrees.

  A chorus of whinnies greeted them when they entered the barn. Alec switched on the lights to reveal an array of black, bay, and chestnut heads popping over stall doors to say hello. He led Shadow into the first stall and offered him a sugar cube, which the colt eagerly nibbled from his hand. Then he started a systematic journey down the aisle to ensure that each of his horses had sufficient hay and water for the evening.

  “They’re all set, boss,” came a voice from the opposite end. “I just checked ‘em myself.”

  Alec glanced up to see his head wrangler, Tommy Bateman, stepping out of the office. When a triple bypass forced the Flying W’s old head wrangler, Roger, to retire two years earlier, Tommy was the logical choice to fill his shoes. The lanky Texan had worked on the ranch for nearly a decade and knew the business as well as Alec did.

  He rested his arms on Star’s door. “Any luck with the trough heater?”

  “I just ordered the part for it,” Tommy replied, striding down the aisle to join him. “Should be in on Monday.”

  “Good. What about the Biotin?”

  “Still backordered. I’ll go to the feed store and get us a couple tubs if we run out.”

  Alec focused his gaze on Star, mindlessly watching the chestnut mare nibble alfalfa from her bedding. Beside him, Tommy gave a knowing grin. “She’s not back yet, huh?”

  “That obvious?”

  He shrugged. “I just know the routine by now. Wander the barns, train Shadow all afternoon, then check my work about fifty times.”

  Alec couldn’t help but laugh. “Tommy, I think you have a little too much free time during the winter.”

  “So do you, apparently.” His friend chuckled and patted his shoulder. “Don’t stress, Alec. She’s made that drive a hundred times by now.”

  “I know.” He drew in a deep breath and tried to envision something other than vehicles sliding across icy mountain roads. “You still planning a trip home before calving season?”

  “I’d like to, if y’all can manage without me.”

  They conversed for another minute before Tommy headed back to the office. It was times like this that Alec wondered if his friend knew what a godsend he was. Bef
ore Tommy took over, Alec always needed to handle the paperwork–and a six-thousand acre ranch with eighty horses, several hundred head of cattle, and a summer staff of thirty employees required a hell of a lot of paperwork.

  These days, though, Alec barely set foot in the office. He still wrote the paychecks, but for the most part Tommy worked within a specified budget and ran the business for him. Alec had no idea how much time it had taken until he didn’t have to do it anymore.

  It was a good thing, too, because as much time and attention as the ranch demanded, what he had up in the farmhouse required even more.

  He exited the barn and shielded his eyes against the blowing snow as he began the long march towards the farmhouse. The structure was almost a hundred years old now, strategically perched on the property’s only hill. Alec puffed against the wind as he hiked up the frozen incline and paused on the porch to kick the snow from his boots.

  A welcome wave of warm air enveloped him when he opened the front door and stepped into the foyer. “Pop?”

  No response. Alec hung his coat on the rack and rounded the corner into the kitchen, smiling when he saw his father at the dinner table. Walter’s longtime nurse, Lucy Conrad, glanced up and nodded towards the stove.

  “The stew’s still warm if you’re hungry.”

  “Thanks, Lucy.” He placed a hand on her stout shoulder. “You can take off early if you like.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. I’m in for the night.”

  The nurse smiled and patted his hand. She was practically a member of the household by this point; the closest thing Alec would ever have to a mother. She’d lived for years in the farmhouse without complaint, waiting on Walter day and night. Words could never properly express Alec’s gratitude, so several years ago he had a cozy cottage built for her at the bottom of the hill.

  After Lucy bundled up and exited into the storm, Alec settled at the table. “Hi, son,” Walter greeted. “How’s Shadow coming along?”

  Alec filled him in on Shadow’s progress while he cut the potatoes and stew meat into tiny pieces. At this point he could hardly remember what life was like before Walter’s transformation from a robust rancher into a feeble quadriplegic. The doctors called it a medical miracle that the old man was still alive, but Alec knew better. He knew exactly what was keeping Walter going.

  It was the same thing that kept him going, too.

  “You should eat,” his father said between mouthfuls of stew. “You’re looking awfully thin.”

  “I weigh the same as I always have.”

  “Exactly.”

  Alec grinned. The long years of confinement had done nothing to dull Walter’s mind.

  “I’ll eat later,” he promised, rising to take the empty bowl to the sink. “Do you want to watch TV?”

  “I think I’m ready for bed.”

  Alec’s eyes flickered to the clock on the microwave. It was barely five o’clock. Walter had been sleeping more and more lately–a trend that deeply disturbed Alec. His doctors insisted that it was normal, but to Alec, it seemed like a sign of decline.

  He wasn’t ready for his father’s decline.

  “Alright, Pop,” he softly replied. “Let’s put you to bed.”

  *

  Rebecca Westin breathed a huge sigh of relief when she passed beneath the wooden archway that marked the entrance to the Flying W. Thanks to the blizzard, what was normally an easy six-hour drive from Laramie had just turned into a nine-hour nightmare.

  She parked the truck beside the farmhouse and killed the engine, taking a moment to rub her tired eyes. Driving through this storm was the icing on the cake of an already strenuous week. Three days of clinicals at the University of Wyoming had zapped her mental reserves, and she’d barely have time to recoup before heading back for mid-terms in two weeks.

  Never once, though, had she second-guessed her decision to move to Wyoming. As challenging as her life here was, it was more than worth the sacrifice. And she was thankful that the university here offered distance courses, which allowed her to pursue her academic goals while living on the ranch.

  Still, she was glad that this was her final semester. She never could have imagined how taxing it would be to commute so often for exams and clinicals–especially since there always seemed to be a snowstorm on her travel days.

  The gauge on the dashboard registered an outside temperature of negative seven degrees. Rebecca tightened her scarf and sucked in a deep breath to prepare for the icy blast that would greet her when she stepped outside. Figuring she could get them in the morning, she left her textbooks and suitcase where they were and bravely opened the door. Her boots disappeared in the soft snow as she shuffled up the driveway and onto the porch.

  With precision timing, the front door swung open, and she couldn’t help but mirror her husband’s tired smile as he pulled her into the foyer and shut the door behind them. Alec gathered her in his arms and she melted right into him, burying her face in the warm crook of his neck.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she said. “I tried to call, but my phone didn’t have service–”

  “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re home.” They shared a brief kiss before he drew back to look at her. “Are you hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  Rebecca stepped out of her boots and removed her coat, hanging it on the hook next to Alec’s. Then she followed him into the kitchen and stopped short when she didn’t see Walter. “Where’s your father?”

  “I just put him to bed.”

  She frowned in concern. “This early?”

  He nodded as he ladled two bowls of stew. “He had a long therapy session this morning.”

  Rebecca took a seat at the old oak table and unraveled the scarf from her neck. “How’s he been this week?”

  “Surprisingly well, considering how cold it is.”

  Alec smiled as he set the bowls on the table, but there was no hiding the dark circles under his eyes. She knew he didn’t sleep well when she was away, and she hated giving him another reason to be anxious.

  “So how were your clinicals?” he asked as he settled into the chair beside her.

  The storm continued to howl outside while they shared dinner and caught up on the week’s activities. Rebecca relished these rare moments when it was just the two of them. Most days, a quick cup of coffee in the morning or a quiet meal in the evening was the only significant time they’d get to spend together. Oftentimes they didn’t even get that.

  It wasn’t the way they wanted it to be; it was simply the way it was.

  Alec set down his fork and reached for the newspaper. “I know you probably don’t even want to think about getting on the road again, but I noticed this today.”

  She took the paper and examined the ad for an upcoming livestock auction in Steamboat Springs, Colorado. “The whole ranch is being liquidated,” he added. “I went online earlier to check out their horses, and it looks like they’ve got some decent stock. How would you feel about running down there next weekend?”

  “How far away is it?”

  “About six hours. It’s an easy drive.”

  Rebecca mentally juggled her schedule. “That should be fine. Just let me double-check my assignments for next week.”

  “Of course.” He rested his hand on hers. “Honestly, even if we don’t buy any horses, it’d be a nice little getaway for us. I feel like I’ve hardly seen you all winter.”

  As if to emphasize his point, the telephone began ringing. Alec collected their empty bowls while Rebecca strode across the kitchen to answer it. “Hello?”

  “Hey! Welcome back.”

  She smiled at the sound of her sister-in-law’s voice. It was still hard for her to believe that she had a sister-in-law in the first place, which meant that her goofy big brother was now a responsible husband. Rebecca was thrilled when Jeff married her friend Allison; the two of them were a perfect match.

  As if having Allison in the family wasn’t enough of a treat, three w
eeks ago they’d added the newest member to the Sheehan clan–a beautiful baby girl, Stacey Renée.

  “Thanks,” Rebecca replied, leaning her face against the pantry door. “So what’s up?”

  She could hear the smile in Allison’s voice. “I just finally got cleared to drive, so I’m dying for an afternoon out of the house. Want to meet me for lunch in town tomorrow?”

  She’d hoped to lounge in her pajamas all day, but she could hardly pass up the opportunity to see her new niece. “I’d love to. Where do you want to meet?”

  Once they’d agreed on the Italian bistro near the town square, Rebecca hung up the phone and walked over to the sink. “I’m wiped,” she said, resting her head against her husband’s back. “I’m going to take a shower and get ready for bed.”

  Alec craned his neck around to kiss her forehead. “I’ll be right up.”

  The old floorboards creaked beneath her feet as she climbed the stairs and headed down the hallway to their bedroom. It still contained the same four-poster bed, antique dresser, and periwinkle curtains, but the once-bare walls were now filled with snapshots of a hundred happy memories: Jeff and Allison’s wedding day, her mother’s first visit to the ranch, their anniversary getaway to Las Vegas, and–of course–their own wedding portrait, with the majestic peaks of the Tetons soaring in the background.

  Getting married at twenty-three to a fourth-generation cattle rancher was definitely not what she’d envisioned for herself. She figured that she’d finish grad school and focus on her career for a while before even considering a serious relationship.

  Her first summer on the Flying W changed all of that. Her second summer, shortly after she moved back from Boston, Alec asked her to marry him. The following summer they were wed in a small, elegant ceremony on the ranch.

  And it was then, gazing around at the faces of everyone she loved, that she realized life didn’t always happen in chronological order. In fact, she was thankful every day that her life was nothing like she’d imagined it would be.