Reunited with the Cowboy (4 page)

“It's not how capable you are. It's how willing you are.” He sighed for a moment, then continued. “Like I said, I sensed that you're not comfortable around her. I don't want my daughter to feel like she's unwanted.”

Heather couldn't hold his gaze. Her eyes, with those impossibly long lashes, lowered protectively. “I'm sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know how it looks. It's just...she reminds me...” She stopped there, her hands twisting together.

She seemed genuinely upset.

“Reminds you of...” he prodded.

She bit her lip, shook her head, then slowly, almost reluctantly, looked up. He caught the faintest shimmer of tears in her eyes. “Doesn't matter,” she said. “Adana is a sweet little girl and I don't mind taking care of her.”

But John couldn't ignore the brief glimpse of sorrow in her eyes and in her voice. Older emotions sifted into the moment and he thought of her upbringing. “Is this because of your mother?”

She frowned and he realized he'd barked up the wrong tree.

“No. Nothing to do with her.” She waved off his comment with one hand. But that didn't erase his curiosity. There was more to this than she was letting on.

“I can take care of her,” Heather said, reaching out for his daughter. “I know you and Dad have a lot of work to do before calving.”

Still John hesitated, glancing from Heather to Monty. He had to be realistic. He couldn't take care of his daughter today.

Then Adana made up his mind for him. She patted him on the cheek with one chubby hand, as if to reassure him, then stretched her arms out toward Heather, her fingers clenching and unclenching.

“Pwease. Go for wide.”

John shifted to accommodate Adana's sudden movement, then reluctantly let Heather take her out of his arms. Somehow, in spite of the woman's hesitation around his daughter, Adana seemed to connect with her.

Heather held her for a moment, looking down at her. The tiny quiver of her lips was the faintest tell, raising a host of other questions. There was more to this than mere discomfort around children. There was real pain in her eyes.

But as Monty called out to him again, John knew this wasn't the time or place to find out.

Besides, he didn't have the right to pry into her personal life, he reminded himself as he watched her gently place Adana back in the wagon. He had to keep her at a distance. He had plans for his life, and she would only complicate them.

She gave him a forced smile that he sensed was more for show than anything, then picked up the wagon handle and walked past him.

He didn't plan to watch her leave, but couldn't keep his eyes from following her slim form, her blond hair flowing down her back, glistening in the sun as she headed toward Keira's workshop.

Monty walked over to find out what the delay was. “Everything okay?” he asked John, glancing from him to Heather.

“Yeah. Heather is taking care of Adana. She just brought her by to say hi.”

John saw Monty watching him, his eyes intent.

They were both quiet a moment, as if measuring each other.

“Heather hasn't told us much about her life in New York, but her mother and I sense she's had a tough go the past few years,” the older man said quietly, folding his arms over his chest, his eyes slipping back to Heather. “Mitch wasn't good for her. She's a very wounded soul.”

John sensed a warning in Monty's voice, and wanted to remind him that he had tried to tell Heather not to go with Mitch to New York. Not to believe the promises he had made her.

But he kept his comments to himself, aware of how precarious his current situation was. Even though Heather had been the one to break up with him, his love for her had never been a secret on the Bannister ranch. When Mitch had come to Saddlebank the first time and swept Heather off her feet, Monty had been the one to commiserate with John.

Now, it seemed, he was obliquely warning him to keep his distance.

“If that's the case, Heather will need this time with your family to recuperate before she moves on,” John said. “And I wish her only the best in everything she does.” He met and held Monty's gaze. “As for me, I have Adana to take care of right now.”

The rancher smiled carefully and nodded. “Of course you do.” He shifted his hammer from one hand to the other. “I guess we should get this fence fixed before the day slips away from us.”

He walked away. But in spite of Monty's warnings, John couldn't prevent another glance over his shoulder to where Heather had stopped and was lifting Adana out of the wagon.

Their eyes met across the yard and once again John felt as if time had wheeled backward. His foolish heart gave a thump.

He had to focus on Adana.

His and Sandy's daughter, he reminded himself. A woman who was faithful and true.

And uncomplicated.

Chapter Four

A
dana toddled around the saddle workshop, jingling the bell that Keira had given her. Sugar, the farm dog, followed her around the room as if guarding her.

“She's such a cutie patootie,” Keira said, laughing as Adana stopped to tug on the stirrup of a saddle that Keira had been working on.

“She is,” Heather said, letting the melancholy note she struggled so hard to keep at bay slip into her voice as she leaned against the workbench.

Her sister had been cutting some leather for a saddle when she and Adana came into the shop, but had gladly taken a break.

Keira shot her a sharp look. “Are you okay? You seem upset.”

Heather tried to brush off her concern. “It's just hard...coming back.”

Keira boosted herself up on the bench, as if settling in for a chat. “Coming back to the ranch or coming back to John?”

“That was a long time ago,” she said, trying to sound more casual than she felt. “Besides, we've both moved on. He has Adana and I have a new career I'm trying to get established.”

“But he's a widower and you're divorced.”

“Not going down that road again,” she said with a degree of finality.

Adana giggled and shook her bell again. Heather felt her heart compress at the sound.

“There's something else happening,” Keira pressed. “You seem so sad. You look tired and seem as if you've lost weight.”

Heather gave her sister a reassuring grin. “That's music to any model's ears.”

But Keira didn't smile at her feeble joke, just wrapped her arm around Heather's shoulders. “We've got lots to catch up on, you know.”

“I know we do,” she agreed, slipping her own arm around Keira's waist and returning her hug. “I'm glad to be around you again.”

Adana giggled, and Heather sighed lightly.

“There's something else going on. Tell me,” Keira said.

Heather didn't want to go back there, to that place, but she also knew her sister wouldn't quit until she told her.

“It's just that Adana is the same age as my...” Heather's voice quavered, but she was determined not to break down. “Sorry. I don't know why I'm so weepy.”

Keira's features crumpled as she tightened her arm. “Oh, honey. I never thought...never even put it together.”

“It's okay.” Heather cut her off, surprised at the way her throat seemed to close up. “It was two years ago. And it wasn't as if the baby was full-term.” But she pressed her lips together again, blaming the weariness that had clung to her all morning for her wavering feelings.

She hadn't slept much last night, her thoughts a tangle of old emotions, memories and new difficulties. She had left New York determined to start over. To be independent.

But it seemed that in the space of twelve hours her new start had been easily derailed. Now she had no job, no car and no real prospects on the horizon. Her life was the same jumbled mess as when she'd been living with her biological mother, then with Mitch.

And now seeing Adana, she was faced with the reminder of two of the biggest losses in her life: her baby and John.

“You were far enough along that Mom was buying wool to knit baby sweaters.” Keira squeezed Heather's shoulders. “I wish you would have come home after you lost the baby. I know Mom had a hard time with it all. I mean, first grandchild and all, so I can't imagine how hard it must have been for you, stuck by yourself in that apartment in New York.”

Heather sucked in a long, deep breath, wishing she could erase the sadness that clawed at her. “It was hard. But you know, if I'd had the baby, it would have meant I would always be connected to Mitch.”

“I thought you said he never really wanted kids.”

“He didn't, but he's manipulative enough that he would have exercised every right he felt was his.”

“Mitch was a jerk. Actually, he probably still is,” Keira proclaimed. “I know it's hard for you to be divorced. I'm still glad you two are done.”

Heather nodded, recognizing the truth in those words, but unable to repress the ever-present shame that came with the choices she had made.

“Have you talked to Mitch at all since...”

“Since the divorce?” She shook her head. “No. Once everything was over, I told him that I didn't want to have anything more to do with him. It's been a relief not seeing him.”

That was so true, in spite of the other actuality of the divorce. The fact that Mitch had cleaned out the bank account she had so painstakingly built up. The thought could still send shame blasting through her, hot, destructive and pointless.

It also had her sitting at the computer checking out other jobs online, sending her résumé to whoever would accept electronic submissions.

“Well, he was a louse,” Keira said, her eyes narrowing. “And there's no humiliation in being divorced from someone like him.”

Her shame had deeper facets, Heather thought, but she just stepped back and gave her sister a tight smile. “I've missed you so much,” she admitted, holding Keira's soft green eyes.

“I missed you, too,” Keira returned.

“I'm sorry I wasn't the best sister to you,” Heather added soberly. “You've had your own sorrows and struggles.”

Keira's gentle look acknowledged the sympathy. “It was hard, but I have Tanner and he's been my rock. God has also been my refuge and strength. I feel as if I've been surrounded and supported.”

Heather felt a twinge of jealousy. “I'm glad for you. I wish I could share your faith in God.”

“He's always there,” Keira said quietly. “He hasn't moved.”

Heather wasn't so sure about that, but wasn't going to get into a theological discussion about God with her sister. Especially when she seemed to be able to draw strength from him.

The jingle of Adana's bell caught their attention. The little girl looked over at them with a grin, as if seeking a reaction. Then she fell down on her bottom and let out an indignant cry. Sugar whined, as if pleading with them to fix something he could do nothing about.

“I'll get her,” Keira said, walking away from the workbench. Heather sighed as she watched her sister pick up the little girl. Keira seemed so natural with her.

Then Adana reached out to Heather, as she had been doing since their first meeting. The bell she was holding jingled lightly. “You hold me, pwease,” she said, her meaning clear.

“I don't know why she's so stuck on me,” Heather said, taking her.

Keira shrugged. “Maybe she knows you need to be around her to get over your own sadness.”

Heather held Adana, feeling her warmth seep through her vest and shirt, her heart hitching again at having the little girl in her arms. “Like that therapy they do, when you're afraid of something and you're constantly exposed to it until you get used to it?”

Keira smiled. “Sometimes we need to face our fear in order to conquer it.”

Heather guessed she was referring to the shadows in her own life. The shame of being assaulted by Tanner's brother years ago, and how she'd kept it to herself for so long.

“You would know,” she said quietly.

“I'm guessing there are still things in your life that you don't want to talk about,” Keira said, folding her arms over her chest. “And I'm not going to push you on that. The one thing I realized from my own life is that you can't face the past until you feel like you're in a safe place. And you are in a safe place now. You always said that for you, the ranch lived up to its name. That it was a true refuge.”

“It was and it is,” Heather said. “This is home.”

“And how has it been seeing John again?” Keira prompted.

Heather weighed the question, trying to sort out the unwelcome emotions John evoked.

“He's part of the past I don't necessarily need to face, but do want to leave behind,” she finally said. “He was married to an amazing woman and has a kid, and that's the end of that. John and I have both moved on.”

Heather wished she could have delivered her speech with more conviction, but her reaction to John belied any protestation she could make.

The skeptical look on her sister's face showed Heather she needed to work on that. Because there was no way she was going to allow herself to be so vulnerable again.

She had spent too much time there and it wasn't happening anymore.

* * *

Don't brush your hair. Just wash up and go into the dining room.

John cast a critical glance at his reflection in the mirror as he dried his hands on the towel on the bathroom counter at the Bannisters' ranch house. His hair was dented from his cowboy hat and it stuck up in the back.

Heather would just have to take him as he was, he thought as he hung the towel up and walked out of the bathroom.

As he went past the porch and into the kitchen, he wished he had insisted that he and Adana have lunch in their own house, as he had the past couple days.

Yesterday he and Monty had been busy until suppertime fixing fences, getting ready for today. But he'd picked up Adana and taken her to the Grill and Chill in town, using a need to visit Gord, the owner, as a reason for not joining the Bannisters when he was invited.

This morning he'd brought Adana over right after breakfast and made sure that he'd scooted out of there fast, using the cows as the perfect excuse. But he didn't have to rush. Monty had gone to Great Falls for the part for the hay bind. He had told John to wait on moving the cows until he came back, but John needed to keep busy and out of the house, so he'd gotten them all gathered in the sorting pens. But he couldn't keep avoiding the family, so this morning he had accepted the standing invitation to join them for lunch.

Heather stood by the large table and was ladling soup into bowls as he came into the dining room. She glanced up when he walked in, then quickly looked away, underlining the awkwardness that surrounded any encounter they had. She wore blue jeans again, but her silk shirt negated the down-home effect.

He bent over and kissed Adana's forehead. “Hey, sweetie,” he said, brushing his hand over her curls and smiling down at her. “You have a good morning?”

“Hi, Daddy.” She grinned up at him, then looked back at the bowl Alice set in front of her. “Yummy soup,” she said, picking up her spoon.

“How's your aunt?” John asked Alice, his eyes shifting against his will back to Heather.

“She's not doing as well as I hoped. I think I'll spend a few more days with her,” the woman said, breaking some crackers into Adana's soup. “She's still fairly fragile, and now that Heather is staying longer, I'm hoping she can help take care of Ellen and Adana so I can go.”

John felt a moment's anxiety. Heather taking care of his daughter more than just for an afternoon? He glanced her way and met her eyes. Once again he sensed her hesitation, then she blinked and the moment was gone.

Maybe he could find someone else to take care of Adana till Alice returned. He couldn't ask his in-laws. They were gone. But there had to be someone who was willing to come out to Refuge Ranch.

“How's Adana been?” John inquired, turning his attention back to his daughter.

“She's been a little angel,” Alice said. “But she's getting tired.”

“Where's Keira?” he asked next as he picked up the small spoon Adana always used.

“Keira and Tanner went into Bozeman to talk to the wedding photographer,” Ellen said, stifling a yawn. “And Monty called. He's still waiting in Great Falls for that tractor part that was supposed to come in on special order today. He didn't think it was worth his while to drive back when the delivery is supposed to arrive at any moment.” She gave him an apologetic look. “Hope that's not a problem.”

John tried not to sigh. “I've got the herd locked up. I was going to give them their precalving shots. Monty was going to cut the cows for me and run them through.”

“And neither Alice nor I can help you,” Ellen said.

“I can't wait until Monty comes back to process them.” There was no way John could sort and run the entire herd through this afternoon on his own. “I'll have to let them out.”

He gave Adana another spoonful of soup and, in spite of his frustration, smiled as she caught his wrist, bringing the spoon closer to her mouth.

“That's a nuisance,” Ellen said. “I'm sorry Monty didn't think this all the way through.”

“It's okay. We'll just have to try again Monday.”

“But cows are always harder to get in the second time, aren't they?” Heather asked.

Her quiet comment drew John's attention to her. He was surprised she knew that.

“And Monty is taking me to Helena to see the specialist on Monday, then we're joining Tanner and Keira at the cattle show in Missoula,” Ellen added.

John gave a quick nod as his plans grew more tangled. Monty, she, Keira and Tanner had planned to attend the cattle show, and he had encouraged them to go. He had figured on Alice helping him with Adana. If they'd gotten the cows processed today, he could easily take care of everything else on his own until everyone else came back.

“Plus it's supposed to rain tomorrow,” Heather interjected. “That will make it a lot worse to do on Monday, won't it?”

“That it will,” he said with a quick sigh.

“So let me help.”

Her simple statement caught him off guard. “What?”

“I can help. I've done it before. If you've got the cows all gathered up, it's not that difficult. I can saddle up and cut them out.”

“It's hard, dirty work,” Alice said. “Are you sure you're up to it?”

“You don't need to do this,” Ellen stated, her voice quiet and placating. “You never liked helping with the cows before.”

Heather looked from Ellen to Alice to John. “I've helped with the cows before.”