The Cowboy's Homecoming. Carolyne Aarsen
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already jogging away from her. He ducked into a large building beside the hip-roof barn. A few moments later, a large overhead door rattled open and Lee came putt-putting out of the garage, driving an all-terrain vehicle.
She had to chuckle at the sight of this large, strapping cowboy operating what her brother always referred to as a quad. It didn’t look right. Nevertheless, he drove the vehicle up to her and, leaving it running, climbed off.
“Not going to lie, I’m a little disillusioned,” she said. “I figured a cowboy like you wouldn’t go anywhere on the ranch but astride a horse.”
“Quicker to start a quad than head out into the horse pasture to get a horse for such a short trip,” he returned, not even cracking a smile. “I’ll help you on.”
He held out his hand, but she ignored him.
“I think I can manage,” she said. She had been on many modes of transportation in her travels, but this would be her first quad ride. The seat looked large enough for the two of them, but she guessed it would mean sitting astride, right behind Lee.
Deal with that later, she thought, trying to figure out how she was going to get on the thing with her injured ankle.
Slow it down and break it down, she told herself. She’d made a fool of herself plenty already in front of Lee because of her tendency toward impulsive behavior. No sense in carrying on the tradition.
First she shrugged off her backpack and set that in the box fixed to a rack across the back of the quad. Then, putting her weight on her good foot and using her crutch for balance, she managed to get her bandaged foot up and over the seat. She shifted her weight, pulled up her crutch and...voilà! She was on.
With no falling whatsoever. Always a good thing.
Lee dropped onto the seat, hit a button on the handlebar and the quad lurched ahead. She caught herself in time, but her grip on the seat was precarious.
“The field’s a bit rough, so brace yourself,” he cautioned as he flicked the quad into the next gear up.
Rough was an understatement, Abby thought as the quad jostled and bounced over ruts in the field that she suspected were from a tractor. But the worst part of all was that every rut they hit made the quad bounce, had her bumping up against Lee.
She wondered if he had done this on purpose, but when she saw him move forward on the seat, as if to avoid her, she guessed this was a decision he regretted, as well. A few more bounces later, he stopped and turned the quad off.
He quickly dismounted but stayed beside the vehicle while she got off. Then he grabbed her crutch and handed it to her, and while she fitted it under her arm, she forgot her earlier reminder to take her time and she stumbled. He caught her, steadying her, his hand warm on her upper arm.
Abby jerked back, but she almost lost her balance again. This time Lee caught her with both hands.
They stood that way a moment, Abby wishing, praying, she could stop the blush that she knew made her cheeks flame.
“Please let me go,” she whispered.
“I will if you promise not to act so jittery. You’re going to fall again.”
“I’m not jittery,” she retorted, tossing her hair back and lifting her chin as if to face him down.
His dark eyes held hers, his expression serious.
“I think you are,” he said quietly.
Abby suddenly found herself unable to speak as their gazes locked. The faintest whisper of a breeze rose, cooling her heated cheeks, toying with her hair.
Lee finally released her, then heaved out a sigh. “Look, I know things are weird between us. I get it. But right now I have to help you with this story. I don’t like the idea either, but we gotta find a way to work together without being uncomfortable. Put what happened behind us and move on.”
Annoyance flickered through her at the seeming control he had of his emotions. Behind that came anger. As if he could simply put behind them what had happened. He was talking about more than something as innocuous as hurt feelings. But on the one hand he was right. Better to address the unpleasantness and get it out of the way than dance around it.
“I’m sure we can do that,” she conceded.
He gave her a quick nod of acknowledgment, but when he turned away from her to retrieve her backpack, she also knew her feelings toward Lee wouldn’t disappear simply because she wished they would.
They were too complex and too deeply ingrained.
She just hoped she could maintain a semblance of civility with him and not let old memories of her silly schoolgirl crush supersede the reality of what he had done to her family.
Who did he think he was fooling?
Lee clutched the padded backpack Abby had set on the back of the quad, taking a few seconds to contain himself. The tension between him and Abby was almost thick enough to see. So, obviously, his little speech about moving past what had happened between them wasn’t changing anything.
But at least he had gotten it out in the open. They wouldn’t have to pretend the pain and uncertainty weren’t there.
“I’ll take my backpack, please,” Abby said as Lee slipped the one strap over his shoulder.
“I don’t mind carrying it. I’m afraid it will throw you off balance in this high grass.”
“Those cameras and lenses in there are my livelihood,” she informed him, her hand still out. “I have never entrusted that backpack to anyone before.”
He wanted to protest, not sure he should risk helping her again if she stumbled, but she seemed adamant, so he reluctantly handed the bag over to her. He shoved his hands in his back pocket so he wouldn’t be tempted to rush to her rescue again.
That moment, when he had held her arms, it was as if something electric surged between them. He blamed his reaction to the heightened feelings she created in him all across the board. It was just their history that made him so aware of her, but for both their sakes, he knew he had to find a way to keep a tight lid on his emotions. Otherwise this whole arrangement could become untenable.
Lee slowed his steps to match her pace and when they came to a depression in the ground, he stopped.
“Don’t know if you can make it out from here, but that’s what’s left of the first foundation of the house that my great-great-grandfather Cecil Bannister built.”
“Is it a darker color?” she asked, pointing to the mounded rectangle in the grass.
“It is. My grandfather used sod from a field closer to the river for the foundation. Different grass type, that’s why it shows up.”
“A soddy house, I’m guessing?”
“When Grandpa Cecil and his wife came here in 1865, they stayed with a single man who lived a ways down the road. Apparently he was a head case, so Cecil decided he needed to get out as soon as possible. So he built the sod house. It was a quick shelter for them.” He spared her a look. “When I was growing up we would come up here for a picnic at least once a year, as if to remind us of the ranch’s humble beginnings. When Heather came into the family, this was one of the first places we took her.”
“Heather was adopted, wasn’t she?”
He nodded slowly. “She was ten when she came into our family.”
“I vaguely remember that. Must have been hard for her.”
“It was. But she had come from a bad situation. Her mother pretty much neglected her. But she loved the horses...and me and Keira and John took her riding whenever we could. It was the best therapy for her, apparently.