The Rancher's Return. Carolyne Aarsen
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He snapped the velvet lid shut, then he carefully placed the box on the Bible. “But I don’t think I’ll be giving it to anyone.”
“You never know what life will bring you, Carter, or where God will lead you in the future,” Nana said, a quiet note of admonition in her voice.
“Well, I don’t like where God has brought me so far,” Carter said, looking down at the Bible. “I’m not going to trust God for my future. I’ll make my own plans.”
He gave Nana a level look, wishing he didn’t feel a niggling sense of fear at his outspoken words.
Nana reached over and gently brushed a lock of hair back from his forehead. “Be careful what you say, Carter. I know God is still holding you in His hands.”
Carter said nothing to that.
“But I also have something else to tell you,” she said quietly, looking past him to the yard and the hills beyond. “I’m moving to town. Shannon has been looking for places for me in Hartley Creek.”
“You want to move off the ranch?” he asked, unsure he’d heard her correctly.
“Not really. But Shannon thinks I should be closer to the hospital, and unfortunately I agree.”
Carter sat back, absorbing this information. And as he did it was as if a huge weight had fallen off his shoulders. He’d never sell the ranch as long as it was Nana Beck’s home. But if she was leaving, then maybe he could too. And with the ranch sold, perhaps he could leave all the painful memories of the past behind.
“So why’re you shoeing horses instead of getting Greg Beattie to do your farrier work?” Carter leaned against the sun-warmed wood of the barn, watching his foreman and old friend trimming hooves. Yesterday he had spent most of his day catching up with his grandmother and visiting with his cousin Shannon. It wasn’t until today that he had an opportunity to connect with Wade.
Wade pushed his glasses up his nose and then grunted as he grabbed a pair of large clippers. “I like the challenge. And Greg’s been getting busier and harder to book. Lots of new acreages, and all the owners have horses.” Wade made quick work of clipping the horse’s hoof then let the foot down and stretched his back.
Carter swatted a fly and let his eyes drift over the yard. From here he saw everything.
Including the corral where Emma worked with a pair of horses; her son perched on the top rail of the corral fence. Part of him wanted to look away. The ranch held too many painful memories, but the corral held the harshest one of all.
His son, lying lifeless on the ground after Wade had pulled him out of the open stock tank that served as a horse waterer. When she was pregnant, Sylvia had urged him to get rid of the large tank, saying it was too dangerous. Carter had dismissed her worries with a kiss. He and his brother and cousins had grown up with that tank. On hot days they had sat in it, cooling off in the waist-high water.
He should have …
Carter pushed the memory and guilt away, pain hard on their heels.
“This Emma girl,” Carter said, “why did you hire her?”
“I told you I needed to hire another hand to replace that useless character we had before.” Wade picked up the horse’s hoof again and began working at it with a rasp, getting it ready for a shoe.
“I assumed you were going to hire a guy.”
“She had the best qualifications.” Wade shrugged. “I hope that’s not a problem.”
Carter looked over at the corral again. Adam now sat on top of Banjo, and Emma led him around. He heard her voice, though he couldn’t make out what she said. Adam laughed and she patted his leg, grinning up at him.
She turned and looked his way, then abruptly turned around.
“It’s not a problem if she knows what she’s doing,” Carter said, turning his attention back to Wade.
“She’s good. Really good. Has a great connection with horses, and some unique ideas about pasture management.” Wade tapped the horse’s hoof. He dropped it again and grabbed a horseshoe from the anvil.
“So what’s her story?” Carter asked while Wade nailed down the shoe. “Why would she want to work here?”
“She used to work her daddy’s ranch till he gambled it away. Says she loves ranch work, and it shows. She’s been a better hand than the guy I had for two weeks before I hired her.” He tapped in another nail. “She wants to talk to you about subdividing an acreage off the river property. Says she wants to settle down here.”
“Really?” So that’s what her son was talking about when he said they had to ask him about the acreage.
“Don’t sound so surprised. Some of us love it here,” Wade grunted as he tapped in another nail. Then he looked up, a horrified expression on his face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I know why you’ve stayed away. Of course being here is hard, and I get that—”
“Can she afford to buy the acreage?” Carter asked, cutting off his friend’s apology. He felt rude, but he knew where Wade was headed.
The same place he’d been going for the past year in any of their conversations and communications. The ranch was Carter’s home. It was time to come back. To get over what happened.
Trouble was it wasn’t so simple. It was difficult enough dealing with the “if onlys” when he was away from the ranch. If only he hadn’t gone out on that gather. If only he’d stayed home instead of hiring that babysitter. If only he’d taken better care of his responsibilities, Harry wouldn’t have wandered out of the house and climbed on that corral fence. Wouldn’t have fallen—
“Depends what you want for it,” Wade was saying, breaking into the memories that Carter had kept stifled. “I know you’ve never been eager to have anyone else living in the valley, but hey, she’s single, attractive, and now that you’re back—”
“I’m not looking,” Carter said, cutting that suggestion off midstream. “And I’m sure there’s enough other guys who would be interested in Miss Minton.”
Wade shrugged as he clipped off the ends of the nail protruding from the hoof wall. “Been enough of them trying to ask her out since she came here.”
“I’m not surprised.” Carter heard the squeal of the metal gate between the corrals and watched as Emma pulled the halters off the horses’ heads then coiled up the ropes.
He understood why the single men of Hartley Creek and area would be interested. She was pretty and spunky and had a girl-next-door appeal.
“She’s a great gal, but she’s turned them all down flat. I think she’s been burned too many times.”
Silence followed his comment. But it was the comfortable silence of old friends. Carter had missed that.
In the past two years Carter had worked as a ranch hand in Northern B.C., a wrangler for a stock contractor in Peace River and, recently, laying pipe for a pipeline in the Territories. That was where he had been when his grandmother had her heart attack.
He never stayed in one place long enough to create a connection or to build a sense of community. Which had suited him just fine.
But standing here, watching Wade work, not talking, just being, he found he missed this place he knew as well as he knew his own face.
Wade looked up at him, as if sensing his melancholy. “Did you miss the place? The work?”
Carter bit his lip, not sure what to say. “I missed parts of it. I missed seeing my family. Nana, the cousins. You and Miranda.”
“I missed you too, man,” Wade said. To Carter’s surprise, he saw the glint of moisture in his friend’s eyes.
The sight of Wade’s unexpected tears created an answering emotion that he fought