Reunited with the Cowboy (3 page)

His eyes fell on her photo, sitting by his Bible, both resting on a table by his easy chair. He took a moment to pick up the picture, smiling down at it.

He had taken it a month before Adana was born. Sandy stood in profile to the camera, her hands cupped around the swell of her stomach, her short brown hair teased away from her face by a gentle breeze. Her head was tipped to one side, as if she'd been contemplating the new life growing inside her.

Compared to Heather's sophisticated allure, Sandy looked almost plain, with her freckled complexion and large green eyes. No stunning beauty, she'd always had a beauty of spirit, which had more staying power than Heather's breathtaking looks.

And each moment he'd spent with Sandy, he had grown more and more in love with her.

John touched her picture, sorrow welling up in him at the horrible loss he'd faced when she'd died. Leaving her behind in the hospital while he took his squalling baby home was the hardest thing he'd ever done. He still wasn't sure how he had gotten through the empty months afterward. If it wasn't for his parents, and their invitation to come back and stay with them at Refuge Ranch, he was sure he would have fallen apart. Their support, and Monty and Ellen's help, had brought him through that dark valley to where he was now.

On solid ground with a daughter he loved fiercely.

Sandy's little girl.

“I miss you,” he whispered to the beloved image in the photo. He waited a moment, as if listening for the giggly laugh that would bubble up every time he tried to get mushy with her.

But the only sound he heard was the happy slap of Adana's hands on the window of the porch door.

He set the picture frame down, straightened it and gave his wife's image a smile. “I told you I would take care of Adana and I will.”

He spoke the words aloud, as if to remind himself what was most important right now.

He would need every bit of resolve to get through the unwelcome distraction of Heather at the ranch. It was a good thing she was around for only a week, he thought as he walked toward his daughter, now tugging on the porch door. John could manage if he avoided Heather, which shouldn't be too hard. Cows needed vaccinating before calving. The barn needed to be made ready. Corrals, chutes, gates and fences needed to be checked over and repaired. There was plenty to keep him busy while she was here.

“I go outside,” Adana called out, her hands landing on the window again with a carefree splat. She gave John a crooked grin.

“Yes, yes, we're going.” He scooped her up in his arms, then held her a moment, looking into her smiling face, her bright blue eyes with their thick lashes, reminding himself that this precious bundle was his main focus.

He gave her a tight hug, holding her close. For a moment she laid her head in the crook of his neck and he inhaled the smell of her—baby shampoo mixed with newly laundered clothes.

“I love you, little girl,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her soft cheek.

Then she giggled and squirmed away from him. Time to go.

He made quick work of getting her jacket and winter hat on. A few minutes later he was dressed as well, and they walked across the yard toward the ranch house, Adana in his arms and her diaper bag slung over his shoulder. The sun was gaining strength, he thought, looking across the yard to the mountains beyond, cradling the basin. He could feel the promise of spring in the warmth on his back and the sound of water trickling across the driveway as the last of the snow melted.

He heard cows bawling, gathered in the lots. They would be calving in a month. If things went well, and Monty accepted his proposal, John would soon be a partner in the ranch. He would have a personal stake in the success and health of the calves.

He wasn't going to jeopardize that in any way.

With that in mind, he headed directly to the main house. Tanner's truck was parked in front. Obviously, Keira's fiancée had come by to see Heather.

John got to the front door and Adana banged her hands on his shoulders, squirming away from him. “No. Not go to house. Go on the wagon,” she protested, as he struggled to hold her wriggling body while he opened the door.

As soon as he stepped into the house and tried to set her down, she started crying loudly. The diaper bag slipped off his shoulder and fell to the floor, the contents spilling out.

“Do you need some help?”

John was crouched down, Adana still crying, sitting on his knee as he tried to gather up the cups and diapers, so he had to look up at Heather.

Her hair hung loose today, the morning light from the windows beside the door making it shine. She wore a simple white blouse and blue jeans, and had an empty laundry basket resting on her hip.

She looked so much like the old Heather that his traitorous heart did a slow flip.

He hid his reaction to her by grabbing the diapers, dismayed when he realized that they had been lying in a puddle of melting snow from another pair of cowboy boots.

“Here, let me help you,” Heather said, setting the laundry basket on the blanket box and picking up various items that had spilled out. “We'll need to clean these up.”

“Pwetty, pwetty,” Adana called out, her mood switching with lightning speed.

Except now, instead of reaching for the door, she was leaning toward Heather, arms outstretched. The sudden shift made John wobble on his feet.

“Can you take her?” he asked, trying to not drop everything again as he straightened. Wouldn't that be just amazing, if he ended up on his backside right in front of her.

“Um. Sure.” He didn't have time for her hesitation. He shifted his arm, pushing Adana toward Heather. She took the little girl just in time and he managed to regain his balance and keep his pride.

“Guess I can just throw these away,” he muttered as he picked up the remaining diapers.

He glanced again at Heather, who held Adana in an awkward grip. He knew Mitch wasn't the kid type. He had made that loud and clear at his bachelor party. But John had always thought Heather would want children.

Her forced smile and the self-conscious way she held his little girl showed him quite clearly how different Heather was from the girl he had once dated.

“I'll take her now,” he said, setting the diaper bag back on the floor and reaching for his daughter. “Come on, sweetie.”

But Adana ignored him. Instead, she had her hands planted on Heather's shoulders, grinning as she babbled away, clearly fascinated by her. “Pwetty, pretty,” she said.

“I think she likes my earrings.” Heather seemed uncomfortable, her expression hesitant.

But Adana wasn't looking at the pearls hanging from Heather's ears; her eyes were on Heather's face.

“Probably,” John agreed. He caught Adana under the arms and was about to pull her away when she screeched her objection.

“No! No, Daddy! Pwetty!” She leaned away from him, then laid her head on Heather's shoulder.

Heather shot him a flustered look. “I'm sorry.”

He didn't know why his daughter had suddenly formed this attachment to a woman she didn't know. Adana was an easygoing girl, but she didn't quickly go to strangers.

Heather turned then, shifting her arms so that John could more easily take Adana from him.

“Hey, you two, are you coming in or are you going to keep yapping?” Tanner called out from the dining room.

Heather gave John an apologetic look, then walked into the kitchen. With Adana wriggling in his arms, he followed her.

“Hey, John.” Tanner leaned back in his chair, grinning as Heather sat down. “Coffee's on. May as well join us. Monty's in no rush to head out to feed cows this morning.”

John glanced around the room. Tanner, the son of the neighboring landowner, Monty and his two daughters were all sitting around the table.

And there he was, the son of the foreman, standing awkwardly, feeling like the outsider.

“Sure. I'll join you,” he said, as Keira got up to take Adana from him.

“Hey, muffin,” Keira said, cuddling the little girl close. “You're as cute as ever.”

John walked over to the coffeepot, grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured himself a cup. He knew his way around this kitchen as well as his own.

“So, John, what's Monty got you doing today?” Tanner asked.

“Got some fences to fix,” he replied. “The corrals need a few repairs.” He looked to Monty. “You still figure on processing the cows on Saturday?”

“I got that part for the hay bind coming in on Saturday morning first thing, but yeah. After that we can get 'er done.”

“I'll have the cows ready to go, then,” John said, taking a sip of his coffee.

“You know, I could use a capable guy like you at my place,” Tanner said, grinning at him. “Why don't you quit working for this character and come work for me?”

“You trying to poach my best hand?” Monty protested.

“Never hurts to ask,” Tanner said with an unapologetic shrug.

“John's a Refuge Ranch man,” Monty said, with a broad grin. “Just like his daddy before him.”

John tried to tamp down his reaction to the banter between Monty and Tanner. Right now that was his reality. He was only the foreman like his daddy before him.

He thought of the proposal sitting in Monty's office. Now that he was so close, he wanted it done. Then he glanced over at Heather, just as she looked up at him. Their eyes met and she looked away. But even in that brief moment, he was disappointed at how quickly the old feelings taunted him.

He turned to his daughter, feeling a need to get back to work. To keep himself busy. “Hey, muffin, Daddy has to go to work. Wanna sit with me before I go?”

Adana looked at him, then her eyes skittered to Heather. “Wanna sit her,” she said, wriggling away from John's outstretched hands.

“C'mon, honey. Come sit with Daddy,” he coaxed.

“Sit her,” she insisted. Before anyone could stop her, she slid off Keira's lap, scooted around John's chair and headed straight to Heather.

“Guess you got dumped by your own daughter,” Tanner teased.

John was far too aware of the irony of the situation. Getting dumped by his daughter in favor of the woman who had dumped him.

He caught the look of wariness on Heather's face as Adana toddled up to her, then her discomfort as the child tried to climb up on her lap.

John was just about to rescue his daughter when Heather finally picked her up. But Adana wasn't simply content with sitting on her lap. She had another mission in mind.

“Pwetty earrings,” she said, reaching for Heather's earrings again, a cluster of chains with a pearl on the end of each. Heather caught her hand and eased it down, the stilted smile on her face making her look as if she would rather be doing anything else than holding his little girl. It bothered him that someone wouldn't want to hold his precious daughter. That it was Heather struck him to the very core.

Suddenly the phone rang, and Keira jumped up from the table to answer it. She spoke for a few moments, then came over to the table, holding it out to Heather. “It's for you. It's Alan, the mechanic.”

Heather passed Adana to her sister with a look of relief, then grabbed the phone. “Hello?” She jumped to her feet. “Really? That long?” She bit her lip, then nodded, and finally ended the call.

“So? What's the verdict?” Monty asked.

“Alan said that he had to order some parts and they wouldn't be here for a week to ten days.”

“So you'll be around longer?” Keira whooped, obviously more pleased with the news than her sister.

“It looks like it,” Heather said, reluctance tingeing her voice.

John knew exactly how she felt. He sighed and then once again caught her looking at him.

Unwanted and unbidden, attraction sparked between them. He tore his gaze away as frustration edged with an older, deeper emotion lay hold of him.

How was he going to avoid Heather for two weeks and still keep his own heart whole?

Chapter Three

H
eather sat down, her mind whirling as she tried to think. She had the job interview soon in Seattle, but now had no way of getting there.

She needed that job. Her shrunken bank account was a testament to how quickly she needed to get to work.

But she couldn't get to the interview if she didn't have a car. Her stomach roiled at the thought of the new charges she would have to put on a credit card she had finally cleared off.

Don't look around the corner. Just do what comes next.

The words that had gotten her through the past few years of her life came back to her, but now, in the cozy warmth of her parents' house, they seemed empty. Devoid of the comfort they usually brought her.

“So will you be able to stay until the bridal shower?” Keira asked.

It wasn't too hard to see the sparkle in her eyes and hear the hope in her voice.

“I don't have much choice,” Heather said, realizing how reluctant she sounded. She pinned a bright smile on her face, then glanced again at John, who was still watching her. He seemed as thrilled about the idea of her staying the extra time as she was.

“I better get going,” he said, setting his mug on the counter. “I'll feed the cows, Monty. You stay and visit.”

Then he turned and left.

* * *

Heather watched him stride away, his broad shoulders giving him an air of control. He had changed since she'd last seen him, become more reserved. This was not the warm, loving John she remembered.

The distance between them was wider than Judith Basin County. She wasn't sure why it bothered her. She had no intention of taking up where she and John had left off. Both of them had moved far away from that one happy time in her life.

You made your choice when you ignored his advice and went with Mitch to New York.

Past choices melded with present circumstances and she knew that her life was, to some degree, of her own making.

She dragged her attention back to her family, who were all watching her as if waiting to see what she was going to do next.

“I need to make another call,” she said. “Can I use the phone in the study?” she asked her father, needing some privacy.

“You go ahead, my dear,” he said, waving her on.

“And I should get going,” Keira said, getting up, as well. “I'll be at my workshop,” she told Heather. “Come on by and we can make some shower plans.”

“Of course,” Heather said, thankful that her sister was happy with the situation. She turned to her father. “Are you okay to watch Adana?”

“Alice should be finished soon helping your mother get ready for the day. I think I can manage until then,” he said with a grin.

Heather returned his smile, then left. As she closed the door of her father's office behind her, she shut off the sound of conversation that had started up again. She leaned against the door a moment, trying to suppress the panic slowly gaining momentum in her mind.

She couldn't afford a huge repair bill. She couldn't afford to be late for this interview.

She stopped herself. Don't borrow trouble, her father always used to say. So she sat in his large leather chair and with trembling fingers pulled up the information from her cell phone, then made the call.

Very quickly she was put through to Michelle Pearson, the manager she hoped to be working for.

“Good morning, Michelle,” Heather said, pulling out her “so happy to see you” attitude and hoping that would generate a positive tone in her voice. In previous conversations they'd chatted about the industry, traded small talk, discussed fashion trends, but right now she just wanted to cut to the heart of the matter. “I'm sorry to tell you that I had an accident. I'm fine but my car isn't. And it won't be fixed in time for me to arrive in Seattle when I said I would.”

“Oh. I see.” The silence that followed that comment held a heaviness that weighed on Heather. “That changes things. We needed someone quite soon. And we interviewed our second prospect yesterday. My partner was very excited about her, so if you can't come for a week, we may hire her instead.”

Disappointment sat like a rock in Heather's stomach. She wanted to protest that they should at least give her a try, but how could she when she couldn't make the scheduled interview?

“We will, of course, reimburse your travel expenses,” Michelle added. “Just send me the details of your mileage and associated costs and we can cover those for you.”

That was a help, but not much. “Thanks. I'll do that,” Heather managed to choke out, feeling the usual burst of shame at the thought that she would probably follow through on collecting even that small amount of money. “And thank you for the opportunity.”

“If anything comes up that we think you would be suited for, we'll give you a call,” Michelle said brightly, but Heather suspected her promise was more polite than actual. “As a former model, you have a view on the industry that I'm sure we could utilize sometime.”

Former model. All part of a very ragged résumé.

Former barrel racer. Former college student. Former wife.

Heather said a polite goodbye, hung up the phone and leaned back in her father's chair, turning it to face the window, giving herself a moment to pull together the tatters of her life. From here she could look out over the summer pasture and then to the hills beyond, rolling up to the mountains that edged the basin. She had ridden those hills with Keira, Lee and John, and knew most every knoll, valley and crevice. The life she'd lived here was like a wash of light in the darkness of her years with an abusive natural mother and her time with Mitch.

Help me, Lord
.

The prayer spilled out of her as she swung back and forth in the chair. Then she caught her sad reflection in the office window. She lifted her chin and pushed herself erect. Though she wasn't born one, she'd been raised a Bannister. Life didn't push a Bannister down.

As she stood, she caught sight of John walking across the yard. Once again she felt the regrets of the past slip into the present.

If only she hadn't gone away to school. If only she'd listened to him. If only she hadn't broken up with him. If only she had told him the truth about why she'd wanted to work for Mitch.

As if he sensed her thoughts, John looked back over his shoulder at the house. Heather lifted her hand to touch the window as if to make a connection with him.

Then he seemed to shake his head, shove his hands in his pockets and keep walking.

Heather squared her own shoulders and turned away from the window. She had other things to deal with.

When she came back to the dining room, she walked over to where her mother sat.

“How are you feeling?” Heather asked her as she bent over to give her a kiss.

“Much better. I slept well.”

“I'm so glad.” Heather glanced over at Alice. “And good morning to you, Alice,” she said to the older woman, sitting with a cup of coffee in front of her, feeding Adana bits of her muffin. “Good to see you again.”

“Welcome home. I was sorry to hear about your car, but glad that you're okay.”

“Thank you,” was all Heather said. She liked Alice well enough, but had never felt entirely comfortable around her. Alice had told her often how lucky she was to be taken in by the Bannisters, and had subtly reminded her of the debt she owed this family.

“Were you able to reschedule the interview?” her mother asked with an optimism Heather wished she could channel.

“No. They decided to hire someone else.”

“Oh, honey. I'm so sorry.” The disappointment in her voice only seemed to add to Heather's sense of failure.

“There'll be other work,” she said, pasting on the same smile that she used when she was working the cameras, trying to look excited to be wearing a bathing suit while a chilly wind blew.

“I understand from your mother that you'll be around the ranch for a few weeks,” Alice said, cradling her cup of coffee in her hands, lifting one eyebrow as if in query.

“I'm here until my car is fixed,” Heather said, going to pour herself another cup of coffee. And while she was here, she would be sending out her résumé to whoever she could.

“That could work out well for me,” Alice continued. “I just got a call from my aunt this morning. She's not been feeling well. If you're going to be here, I could visit her. Your mother is still fragile and I wouldn't feel right leaving her and Adana alone. Keira is busy with her work and wedding plans, so I don't think it would be fair to ask her.”

Heather sneaked a quick glance toward Adana, who was noisily sucking back a sippy cup of milk. She put her cup down and grinned, showing her tiny top teeth. “Hi, Hevver,” she said.

Heather's heart warmed at the sound of the little girl saying her name. Obviously she was as smart as her mother.

“If it doesn't work, I can reschedule...” As Alice's sentence trailed off, Heather guessed the woman sensed her hesitation.

“Or we could find somebody else,” Ellen said.

Heather caught her mother's rueful smile and hastily put her hand on her arm, hoping and praying that her mom didn't think her lack of enthusiasm had anything to do with her.

“Of course I can help out today,” Heather quickly said, giving her a reassuring look. She was free for the next few days. The least she could do was help where she was needed.

“That's wonderful,” Alice said, sounding relieved. “Would you mind terribly if I left right away?”

So soon?

“Sure. That'd be fine,” Heather said with a confidence she certainly didn't feel. “Just tell me what I need to do for my mother, and I'm sure I can figure out what to do with Adana. How hard can it be to take care of a toddler?”

“Not hard at all. She's a little sweetheart,” Ellen said, reaching over and tucking Adana's bib under her chin.

The child banged her cup on her tray table, then looked at the gathered women, as if sensing the conversation was about her. She gurgled in pleasure at the attention, happily oblivious to the gnawing pain in Heather's soul that her very presence created.

It's just for today
, Heather told herself. She could handle it for one day.

* * *

“You're good to go,” John called out to Monty as he pushed on the fence tightener.

Down the fence line, he could see the rancher swinging his hammer, pounding in the staples on the barbed wire that John had just pulled taut.

They had been busy all afternoon, wading through mud, the occasional snowdrift and sometimes walking on bare ground, working their way down the fence toward the home place, getting the calving area ready. In a month they would be busy, calving out cows. The sun beating down on John's back was a promise of the warmer weather coming.

Soon
, he thought, pounding the last nail on his end and pulling off the tightener. He glanced up at the hills, which were already bare of snow, and across the pasture, where only a few drifts leftover from the last storm lay stranded against fence and tree lines.

He dropped the hammer in his pail of tools and lifted it off the ground. In only a few days, the drifts had receded substantially, leaving mud in their wake.

On Saturday they had to process the cows and give them their precalving shots. He wasn't looking forward to herding them through all this dirt.

“So, we done with this?” Monty called out as he strode toward him.

“That was the last of it,” John said.

“Good. I'll head over to the corrals and check them once more before we have to run all the cows through.” He nodded toward the house. “You just take a moment to say hi to your little girl.”

A high-pitched squeal of laughter caught John's attention and his smile grew.

But when he turned, he frowned at what he saw. Heather was pulling a high-sided wagon. Adana sat inside, leaning over the edge, staring at the ground rolling past her as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

His eyes reluctantly touched on Heather, who was looking everywhere but at him. She had put a down vest over her shirt, a concession to the brisk spring weather.

Though she still looked as if she was heading to a fashion shoot, the down-home clothes were a reminder of happier times. When they would go out riding. When he would watch her run barrels, timing her and coaching her.

He shook his head, as if to dislodge the errant memories he wouldn't allow himself to indulge in.

“Where's Alice?” he asked. He set the pail down and halfheartedly walked toward them. They met halfway between the pens and the house, the tapping of Monty's hammer echoing over the yard.

“Daddy, ride,” Adana called out, reaching for him. He picked her up, settling her against his hip.

“She left this morning to visit her aunt,” Heather said. “She asked me to help out with Adana while she was gone.”

John narrowed his eyes at the thought of Heather taking care of his daughter. “Just for today?”

“It's fine. I...I can manage. I'm not familiar with kids, mind you...”

“I sensed that,” he stated, holding Adana a little closer. She laid her head against him, as she often did when she was tired or upset. Did she also feel Heather's discomfort?

He felt the same overwhelming need to protect his daughter that he had felt when he'd brought her home from the hospital. He had made a promise to himself that he would protect her, take care of her and make up for all she had lost.

“That's why I think I should take care of her,” he added.

“But you're busy. I thought...I understood that's why Alice and Mom look after her. So you can work?”

“I'll figure a way around it.” He glanced down the fence line toward Monty.

Heather lifted her head, staring him down. “You don't think I'm capable.”

In spite of the confrontational tone of her voice, he caught a glimpse of hurt in her features. His resolve wavered a moment, but then he felt the warmth of Adana's head against his neck.