4

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Rachel’s voice soothed him. “I wasn’t there...when Nick died. I’ve always thought myself lucky that I didn’t...see.”

“Maybe. I just don’t know. I don’t remember and that tortures me. Not knowing if I could have prevented the accident.” Brayton clamped his lips tight, not against the awful memories, but with mortification. “Rachel, I don’t know quite what this is. Maybe it’s us being in the same position, both losing a spouse, I mean. And in such unexpected ways. I don’t know. But I just can’t seem to mind my tongue today.”

Her smile could light up a thunderstorm, and he knew she wasn’t just tossing one his way out of comfort against his embarrassment. She did understand.

“I know. I think I felt it, too, a minute ago. There are just some things I can’t share with anybody else around here. Even Ma.” She glanced at her knees while she stretched her long legs, and sighed. “I mean, she did lose Pa, but I can’t help but feel her situation is a bit different. You know, they were together over thirty years. Raised eight kids. Nick and I barely got a start.” Amazingly, her smile didn’t dim although she shook her head.

“You know, I’d like to clear my head.” He drained his cup and cleared his throat—gathered his courage. “I’d sure love a tour of the ranch while Addie finishes up. And some family history. If you don’t mind, that is. I’ve bored you enough with mine.” He looked straight at her. “I’m not going to beat around the bush. First time I saw you and learned you were single, well, I wanted to meet you.”

Rachel shook her head at him, her nose wrinkling cute as a button. “You silly city cowboy. Come on.” She stood and held out her hand, but he read the gesture more like a friend than anything. “I’ll show you around. And I appreciate you being honest with me. But despite whatever connection we’ve been feeling, I’m not exactly on the market. If you know what I mean.”

He nodded, accepting the challenge to change her mind. He’d dated sporadically once the initial terror had healed, but Brayton could read most women easily, thanks to Gram Adelaide’s common-sense upbringing. Many women liked his money, the prestige of his reputation, but didn’t want to be a stepmother. Others wanted something casual in the bedroom that he morally opposed and wasn’t prepared to give. But Rachel was different; she didn’t want those things either.

Once outside, she unbuttoned her jacket. The day was warming nicely. “I guess we have time for a ride. What do you say, urban cowboy?”

He burst into laughter. “Now, now. I’ve got ranch roots deep as yours. You can’t blame me for taking a chance in the big city, can you?”

“Of course not.” Her boots clomped down the porch steps, and they hurried to the corral. She turned back with a smile. “Because you came back.”

“That I did.” And he intended to stay. The idea of moving from his Red Hill ranch in River Ridge into the condo he owned at Woodside Meadows loomed more important than ever. Of course Rachel had nothing to do with this decision, but he’d like being close enough to see her often. Most important, Addie could attend school in Mountain Cove. He’d homeschooled her since the move and considered hiring a tutor, but Addie had a personality that needed to be surrounded by friends and involved in a busy classroom. Of course, they’d get to Red Hill often. Addie did seem to enjoy the place.

“Come on. Let’s get some horses saddled up and ready to go.” Rachel interrupted his thoughts.

“Aren’t you going riding with Matty later?”

“Like I can’t do both? A trail ride is the best way to see our place. Come on.”

Riding has a way of making things better. Her earlier words slid into his mind, and he grinned at the truth of them as the warm air brushed his face. God was sure good this day.

After a quick goodbye to his busy daughter and Tiffany Martin, Addie gave him such a long, generous hug Brayton’s heart soared. “You have fun with Rachel, OK, Dad? I’ve got tons more I can do here with Tiffany.”

He frowned. “Don’t let her overwork you, Tiffany. You likely need your rest.”

“I’m healthy as a horse,” Tiffany grinned. “I’m not due for six weeks. I’m hoping our son comes a week later. Then he’ll be born on our second anniversary.”

Rachel’s nose crinkled again. “And I keep telling her she does not want to be late no matter what the reason. Come on, Brayton.”

“Take Alamo,” Tiffany ordered. “He isn’t getting as much exercise as he needs with Hooper gone. And Bragg’s busy with Rodeo College.”

Alamo, a sturdy paint, eyed Brayton with a dare more than once, but he knew horses. He and Rachel busied themselves saddling and mounting, and then headed down the gravel drive and underneath the ranch gate. On the crossbeam hung the ranch brand, two interlocking hearts with a cross where they intersected.

Brayton turned to stare back at it. “That brand’s as beautiful as it is distinctive.”

“Our ranch’s theme. Love and faith.” Rachel nodded. “Ma’s family has owned the ranch for over a century and a half. She was the last of the Martins. When she married Pa, she renamed the ranch and designed the new brand. Even had Pa take her maiden name.”

“Really? That’s enlightened.”

Rachel chuckled. “Ma is pretty determined to get her way and usually does. But they made up for it. They named their third son Kennedy, which was Pa’s maiden name.” They shared a laugh as they rode side by side, east on a rocky path then up a rise. A nearby alder reached for her hair.

“Ol’ Kenn helps lead our wagon train tours in the summer when he’s not teaching English at Mountain Cove High. He’s married to Christy who’s a landscape designer.”

Brayton remembered. They’d never met, but she was the landscaper for Woodside Meadows and had worked for his Tranquility Group in Los Angeles. Right now, however, wasn’t the time to reveal his plans to move. He needed to discuss it with Addie first. Christy might get a kick out of it, too. “Where are you in the lineup?

“Second. Hooper is oldest. You’d think Ma and Pa would have stopped right then, one son. One daughter. But no. Ma went through it all six more times.” She chuckled. “Lucky for me. I love my siblings.”

The mention of Hooper reminded him. “Where is Hoop?” Brayton had met the ranch foreman when he signed up Addie’s lessons. He patted Alamo’s neck, and the animal proudly shook his head. “Tiffany said this horse isn’t getting much exercise.”

Rachel’s face changed, just for a moment. “He’s in California with his wife. Mallie, and he, well, they’re both cancer survivors. He’s fine, but she’s got an MRI going on with a brain tumor specialist.”

From the way Rachel’s face tensed, he knew things were serious. But she smiled albeit a little uncertainly.

“We’re expecting great things.” Her tone strengthened. “We’ve just got to. They’ve got a little girl, Ella. I think you’ve met my other brothers?”

Brayton nodded. Pike, a large animal vet, had advised him on a new type of feed pellets, and CPA Bragg was in the lineup for Red Hill’s new accountant. “Your sisters?

“Kelley’s the chef with the cafe in town. She’s the one who made those cinnamon rolls, remember? Her husband Jason is…is the geneticist here.” Her voice hitched. “He came on board to take Nick’s place when Nick got deployed. Pa hired Nick ten years ago, and…that’s how we met.”

“I’m sorry.”

She smiled. “No, we had a good love story. Just not the happily-ever-after. And, um, my baby sister, Chelsea. Kinda like you, she did rodeo. Champion barrel rider, youth division, and is now in college at Boulder. She’ll be doing a study abroad in England next semester.”

Brayton nodded. “You’ve got quite a wonderful thing going here. You all work together, live close by. Seem friends as well as family.”

The breeze turned brisk, lifted Rachel’s hair. “I never was one for a posse of gal pals. It’s amazing what good friends I am with my sisters and sisters-in-law. Especially Tiffany. She actually came aboard to be my nanny and paralegal when Nick left for the Middle East. We’ve always gotten along great, and being sisters now is like the cherry on top. You know?”

“You all are really blessed. So many families get wrenched apart or somebody abandons somebody or they have squabbles they never let go.”

“I know. People can let their love die, let their relationships wither for stupid reasons—or even important reasons. But you fix it. Or at least try. Not like somebody dying and you never get another chance.” She looked straight ahead but turned back for one quick comment. “That’s why I don’t do any sort of family law. I’m not going to be somebody that helps rip apart a family.”

“What kind of law to you practice?”

Horses’ hooves clattered up a rocky rise stuck with spiky shrubs.

“When I first passed the bar, I worked for a big firm in Boulder that specialized in business litigation. Well, that wasn’t me, and I’m not a city girl to begin with. So I came back home.” She raised her eyes to the snow-brushed peaks and gave a half-smile. “Small-town specialty, I suppose. I work with tax law for many ranchers. Ours included. Contracts, wills and trusts. Once in a while a boundary dispute or a patent here and there. Now I’m part time. Tiffany still helps a little bit, but I can handle the lesser work load. I want to spend my days and years with Matty.”

“I know exactly what you mean. That’s why I wanted to come here. Simplify. Sort of start over, fix things with Addie. Especially with Nate almost on his own.”

“I get that. I suspect Matty will grow up on me before I turn around.” She chuckled, leaving behind a smile both beautiful and rueful. “But you. I’ve bored you to death. Now tell me the rest about you.”

For a while, he rode behind her before the trail widened and they came side-by-side. Unsure what to say. He’d pretty much hit on everything important, hadn’t he?

“I met Marianne while I got my undergrad degree at Pac-Arts.” He tossed Rachel a nod. “Pacific Center for Art and Architecture in Los Angeles. Started in architecture but ended up in urban planning and development. She was majoring in art history part time.” Talking with Rachel made him realize that, like her, he needed closure. He’d always wanted to build an art gallery in Marianne’s memory. That would be closure. Especially with a beautiful woman now at his side. “We had great years and great kids. Now what’s that?” A rustic cabin high up the trail caught his eye. With Rachel at his side he realized he had more life to live.

“Supply station for the mule-packing adventures Hearts Crossing now offers. Honest mountain-man stuff.”

“Jeremiah Johnson?”

She laughed. “Yep. Only in the flesh and real.”

His laughter joined hers. “Sounds like something Nate and I ought to try.”

“Sure. Tours will start first week of June. Mountain-manning aside, it’s equal-opportunity roughin’ it. The female persuasion is more than welcome.”

“You done it?”

“Not on your life.” Her laughter sparkled again in the cooling air. “Not yet, at least. But you never know what the future might hold.”

Brayton hoped she might be hinting at future association with him. He didn’t consider himself a vain man in the least, but he was confident, though, and knew she was interested.

Then the horses turned around a small, rock-strewn loop, the vista of Hearts Crossing sent a rush scooting down Brayton’s spine. East of the ranch, water sparkled in the sun.

“Wow.”

“I hear you. Gets me every time.” Rachel grinned, pointing. “Hawk Creek. And through those trees, down there, is Old Joe’s Hole. Come on, let’s get down. We can see better if we hike off the trail a while.”

“Sounds good.” He dismounted quick, wishing he could help her dismount so he could enjoy her body’s slide down his, her scent filling his senses. But of course an experienced rancher like Rachel didn’t need his assistance and probably didn’t want it anyway. But his breath caught when she held out her hand to him after tethering the horses to a branch.

“Come on,” she said, waving her fingers. His disappointment flared; she hadn’t been inviting him to hold her hand, merely indicating the direction. Her cinnamony scent floating near him helped make up for the loss of her warmth.

The path down past the dedicated horse trail was primitive at best, and he decided to go first. Likely she’d traversed it often, but he wanted to man-up. “I’d have worn my broke-in hiking boots if I’d known we were going so Wild West.” He tossed over his shoulder.

“Not much of a pioneer spirit, are you? Anyway, I like your Bright Angel boots. Ten dollars from every pair sold going to children’s cancer. They look good,” she called back, words carried on the wind. He turned quickly so he could watch it tussle her hair, pleased at her compliment. Pleased she’d noticed the least little thing about him.

So pleased he stumbled, backwards, boot heel meeting a rock. He flailed a bit, and her arms reached to catch him, to steady him. To pull him close. His racing heart didn’t do a thing to calm him.

“Watch yourself, cowboy.” Her voice trembled against his chest, and she didn’t pull away. “You wouldn’t be the first to take a header down the hill.”

After a moment that lasted forever and not long enough, he swallowed hard and maneuvered to take her hand. “Thanks.” He strengthened his unsteady voice, drank in deeply of her scent, a heavenly aroma when mixed with sunshine and pine. “Last thing I need is to get laid up here at Hearts Crossing.”

Or not. Her fingers tightened through his as they made their way, together, to a small overlook ringed with chokecherry. Below them, the scenery all but stole his breath.

“It’s a small stream-fed lake. Cold as ice but oddly refreshing after a hot day on the wagon train. Our guests swim and fish. There’s a pretty little grove on the north side. It’s said our ancestor Josephus Martin buried his faithful mule there. But Christy designed it as a natural gazebo for the ranch’s destination weddings.”

“Is there anything Hearts Crossing doesn’t offer?” he asked with a grin and a squeeze.

She smiled back, and he was certain he read flirtation in her eyes. “No. There’s something for everybody.”

The love of her land gentled her voice, and the chill in the breeze warmed at her words. Something new was going on inside him. “Even from here, it’s gorgeous. Maybe we ought to go swimming there ourselves. You could show me the place close up.”

Her smile warmed him through. “I think we could manage that.”

They headed back up the path to their horses, wordless and comfortable. Spirits high, he untethered her horse and handed her the reins. He was unable to resist the gallantry. Her smile dazzled. The ride back to the ranch had him wondering if she could read him. He’d come more alive at Hearts Crossing in this afternoon than he had in years. Dismounting, he carefully plotted what to say as he and Rachel set to unsaddling their horses.

“I’ll check the water tubs,” Rachel said, apparently back in everyday mode. How then could he feel the trail ride had been so momentous? Like…well, he might as well say it.

“Rachel, after today. I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

She looked up from the water hose. Eyes bright, with tears, he figured. Fingers tense around the nozzle. She’d never looked more beautiful, and he wanted to help her, needed to help her, felt called to help her, through whatever it was tormenting her. He knew it was more than widowhood. Something had gone wrong, and Nick had died before it could be fixed.

“Brayton.” She shook her head and looked upward. “I can’t deny I’m flattered or attracted to you. I liked touching your hand, being close. But this isn’t the right time, you know, for anything more than a friendly ride to Joe’s Hole. Or a cup of coffee during Addie’s lessons. Nothing extra, nothing special. That’s all I can promise. All right?”

He held in a smile of triumph. At least she wasn’t spurning him or slamming an imaginary door in his face. “I’ll take whatever you want to give me, Rachel. I’ll never ask for more.”