One Summer At The Ranch: The Wyoming Cowboy / A Family for the Rugged Rancher / The Man Who Had Everything. Rebecca Winters
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of protest. “Bert will help you down. I know it’s fun, but you need a break and so do the ponies. I’ll give you another lesson before dinner. Right now, I thought you might like to ride to the upper pasture with me and see some Texas Longhorns.”
Johnny looked perplexed. “What are those?”
“Beef cattle.”
“We’re not in Texas!” Sam pointed out.
“Nope, but they were brought from there to this part of the country years ago. Want to get a look at the herd?”
“Yeah!” they said with a collective voice.
He turned to the Harrises. “I’ll bring them back for lunch. You can come along, or you’re welcome do something else.”
Ralph smiled. “If you don’t mind, I think we’d like to take a walk.”
“Good. Then we’ll meet you back at the ranch around one o’clock.”
While they talked to their children about being on their best behavior, Carson walked over to Tracy who’d once again gotten off her horse without assistance. “Are you going to ride with us?”
“Please, Mom?” Johnny’s brown eyes beseeched her.
Apparently she had reservations. Maybe she hadn’t been around other men since her husband’s funeral and didn’t feel comfortable with him or any man yet. Operating on that assumption he said, “I was going to let the kids ride in the truck bed. If you’re with them, you can keep a close eye on what goes on. Those bales of hay will make a good seat for you.”
She averted her eyes. “That ought to be a lot of fun.”
Johnny jumped up and down with glee. “Hey, guys—we’re going to ride in the back of the truck!” The other two sounded equally excited.
Pleased she’d capitulated, Carson walked over to the truck and lowered the tailgate. One by one he lifted the children inside. Before she could refuse him, he picked her up by the waist and set her down carefully. Their arms brushed against each other in the process, sending warmth through his body. After she scrambled to her feet, he closed the tailgate and hurried around to the cab.
With his pulse still racing, he started the engine and took off down the road, passing the Harrises. The children sat on the bales and clung to the sides of the truck while they called out and waved. Through the truck’s rear window, Carson caught glimpses of her profile as she took in the scenery. Haunted by her utter femininity, he tried to concentrate on something else. Anything else.
There’d been a slew of women in his life from his teens on. One or two had held his interest through part of a summer, but much to his grandfather’s displeasure, he’d never had the urge to settle down. It had been the same in the military.
Carson couldn’t relate to the Anthony Barettas of this world, who were already happily married when deployed. Though foreign women held a certain fascination for Carson, those feelings were overshadowed by his interest in exotic places and the need to experience a different thrill.
Then came the day when his restlessness for new adventures took a literal hit from the deathly stench of war. Suffocation sucked the life out of him, extinguishing former pleasures, even his desire to be with a woman. Of no use to the military any longer, he’d been discharged early but had returned to the ranch too late to make up to his grandfather for the lost time.
Since he’d flown home from Maryland, the idea of inviting the Baretta family and others like them to the ranch had been the only thing helping him hold on to his sanity. Giving them a little pleasure might help vindicate his worthless existence, if only for a time.
Never in his wildest imagination did he expect Tony Baretta’s widow to be the woman who would arouse feelings that, to his shock, must have been lying dormant since he’d become an adult.
Somehow, in his gut, he’d sensed her importance in his life from the moment they’d met at the airport. Nothing remotely like this had ever happened to him before. He couldn’t explain what was going on inside him, let alone his interest in one little boy. But whatever he was experiencing was so real he could taste it and feel it.
Next Saturday they’d be flying back to Ohio. He already felt empty at the thought of it, which made no sense at all.
After passing through heavily scented sage and rolling meadows, the truck wound its way up the slopes of the forest. The smell of the hay bales mingled with the fresh fragrance of the pines, filling the dry air with their distinctive perfume.
To the delight of both Tracy and the children, they spotted elk and moose along the way. Carson slowed down the truck so they could get a good look. Rabbits hopped through the undergrowth. The birdsong was so noisy among the trees, it was like a virtual aviary. Squirrels scrambled through the boughs of the pines. Chipmunks chattered. Bees zoomed back and forth.
Tracy looked all around her. The earth was alive.
Life was burgeoning on every front. She could feel it creeping into her, bringing on new sensations that were almost painful in their intensity, sensations she’d thought never to experience again.
For so long she’d felt like the flower in the little vase Johnny had brought home from school for Mother’s Day. The pink rose had done its best, but after a week it had dried up. She kept it in the kitchen window as a reminder of her son’s sweet gift. Every time she looked at it, she saw herself in the wasted stem and pitiful-looking petals—a woman who was all dried up and incapable of being revived.
Or so she’d thought....
After following a long curve through the trees, they came out on another slope of grassy meadow where she lost count of the cattle after reaching the two hundred mark. They came in every color. In the distance she saw a few hands and a border collie keeping an eye on the herd. Carson brought the truck to a stop and got out.
“Oh,” Rachel half crooned. “Some of the mothers have babies.”
Tracy had seen them. With puffy white clouds dotting the sky above the alpine pasture, it was a serene, heavenly sight of animals in harmony with nature. “They’re adorable.”
Carson walked around to undo the tailgate. Beneath his cowboy hat, his eyes glowed like blue topaz as he glanced at her. “Every animal, whether it be a pony or a calf, represents a miracle of nature. Don’t you think?”
“Yes,” she murmured, unexpectedly moved by his words and the beauty of her surroundings.
Johnny’s giggle brought her head around. “Look at the funny calf. She’s running away.”
“Buster won’t let her get far.” Carson lowered the children to the ground. Tracy stayed put on her bale of hay. “Wouldn’t you like to walk around with us?”
“They won’t hurt you, Mom.”
She chuckled. “I know. But from up here I can get some pictures of you guys first.” Tracy pulled out her cell phone to make her point. “I’ll join you in a minute.” She didn’t want Carson’s help getting down. To her chagrin she still felt his touch from earlier when he’d lifted her in.
After she’d snapped half a dozen shots, she sat down on the tailgate and jumped to the ground. The children had followed Carson, who walked them through the herd, answering their myriad questions. Why were some of the calves speckled and their mothers weren’t? How come they drank so much water? He was a born teacher, exhibiting more patience than she possessed.
Soon the dog ran up to them, delighting the kids. Tracy trailed behind, trying not to be too startled when some of the cows decided to move to a different spot or made long lowing sounds.
Carson cornered one of the beige-colored calves and held it so the children could pet it. Their expressions were so priceless, she pulled out her camera and took a