The Rancher's Reunion. Tina Radcliffe
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she interrupted. “Then nothing’s changed, because you’re always wanting to wring my neck.” She smiled sweetly.
He refused to give in to her humor. Instead, he demanded, “How could you question where you would go?”
She shrugged and bit her lip. “I’m sorry, but the longer I stayed away the harder it was to come back.”
Crouching down, he took her hands in his. They were small and soft, the skin chilled. “Tell me what happened.”
Taking a large breath, she stared ahead, her gaze a million miles away. “I can’t. I wish I could but I seem to have blocked it out. Sometimes at night it starts to come back to me and then—” her gaze connected with his “—nothing. I don’t think I’m ready to remember anything but what they’ve told me.”
Will shook his head.
Annie’s gaze shifted and she stared over his shoulder. “Look,” she said. “The moon.”
He glanced behind him. Sure enough, it was a full moon, unusually bright with a luminescent glow.
“And the way those stars are scattered across the sky,” Annie said. “It’s like diamonds on velvet.”
“I don’t think I could ever leave this place,” he said, leaning against the rail.
“You don’t have to,” she whispered.
Annie scrunched the pillow over her face to block out the annoying sunlight streaming through the lace curtains. At some point in the night her body finally adjusted, and gave in to the luxury of a mattress over the familiar cot she’d been sleeping on for the past two years. She ushered a thank-you to God for the few hours of real rest she’d gotten last night.
A yelp of pain escaped when she sat up. Her leg was painfully stiff from being in the same position so long. The stitches pulled against her skin. She ran a hand over the area. Thankfully, it remained cool to her touch, with no signs of infection peeking out from the gauze. Today she’d remove the dressing and let the incision air.
Annie glanced around. Her room. Except for dusting, everything had remained untouched. When the breeze from the open window whispered past, she could smell the familiar fragrance of lavender mingled with furniture polish. Rose had tucked handmade lavender sachets into every drawer.
The bedroom truly was the only substantial thing Annie had ever called her own. Of course it wasn’t really hers. But a young girl could pretend it was her very own room and pretend she had a real family.
The small space had been a nondescript guest room when Annie had arrived. Over the next year or two Rose had very quietly transformed everything, enjoying every minute of painting the walls, sewing the curtains and picking out colors for a quilt.
Annie fingered the soft, gently worn fabric of the hand-pieced and machine-sewn quilt. “Around The World,” Rose called the pattern. Colors of peach and cream blended together into a soothing patchwork design, with a pale green border.
Around the world. Well, she had certainly done that. All her life, it seemed. She had traveled from town to town with her gypsy mother until being brought to the ranch to stay with Rose.
Why Rose? She’d often asked the question during those first years, trying to make sense of everything.
“Your mother and I were neighbors when we were children. We grew up together. She spent a lot of time at my house,” Rose explained.
“But what about my grandparents?” Annie asked.
“Leanne always told me her papa was in the navy and her momma was restless.”
“Restless.” Annie said the words aloud to the empty room. Was that her legacy? Restless.
As promised, Leanne returned six months later, once she and her husband were settled. When her new stepfather began to take notice of Annie, Leanne was quick to return her daughter to the ranch with the necessary papers for Rose to share guardianship.
Annie wondered if Rose had heard from her mother recently. While Leanne sent the occasional birthday card, the last real contact had been a quick, unexpected phone call when Annie turned seventeen, to let her know her mother was again divorced. At the time Annie feared Leanne would come and take her away. But no, she was headed to California to follow a “get rich quick” scheme.
Wiggling her toes and stretching her arms, Annie reached for the flannel robe she’d tossed on the end of the four-poster bed. Frustrating as it was, she would have to use the cane until her leg limbered up.
Her stomach growled, and she was both surprised and thankful. It seemed her appetite was back with a vengeance. Coffee and more pie sounded like a wonderful way to start the day. With any luck, Will hadn’t already finished off both.
She fished in her tapestry bags for her hairbrush then headed for the private bathroom, throwing water on her face and brushing her teeth, before grabbing the cane. Voices reached her as she hobbled carefully down the oak floor of the hallway.
Annie paused in the kitchen entry and discovered there was a guest at the table. Will sat across from a sophisticated blonde in a cream linen suit who gestured in conversation.
She inched back out of the room.
“About time you got up. We were debating whether or not to wake you for dinner,” Will called. A hint of a smile played on his strong mouth.
“Dinner? What are you talking about?” She glanced at the black, wrought-iron rooster clock on the wall. Three o’clock? “I slept over twelve hours.”
“You needed that sleep,” he said.
“Apparently,” Annie admitted. “I missed church.”
“Are you kidding me?” Will laughed.
Rose pulled out a chair. “Come sit down, honey.”
“Oh, no, no.” Annie shook her head. “You have a guest. I don’t want to interrupt. Besides, I’m not dressed.”
“Don’t be silly. This is just Mrs. Reilly,” Rose said, dismissing Annie’s concerns with a wave of her hand. “Now sit yourself down.” She pulled out a chair. “I’ve got a fresh pot of coffee brewing.”
The woman seated at the table raised a perfectly arched brow at Rose’s remark.
“That sounds wonderful,” Annie admitted. She carefully lowered herself into a ladder-backed chair.
“Annie, this is Margaret Reilly,” Will said. “She and her husband, Ed, are involved in a joint venture with Sullivan Ranch.”
Annie offered the woman her hand. The blonde’s grip was strong and businesslike as her assessing gaze met Annie’s head-on. A second glance at the woman’s polished features and Annie realized Margaret was her own mother’s age.
“Call me Margaret. I’m delighted to finally meet Will’s little sister.”
Little sister? Her glance darted to Will, who had suddenly become preoccupied with the floor tile.
Well, why was she surprised? The words only verified what she knew all along.
“I understand you’re a nurse,” Margaret said. “I don’t know how you do it. That sort of work definitely has to be a calling.”
“Annie is called. Did you know she had a full-ride academic scholarship to the University of Tulsa?” Rose spoke with pride. As she talked, she filled a mug with steaming coffee and set it on the table in front of Annie.
“TU? I’m impressed. So, what are your plans now that you’re back? How long are you visiting?”
“Visiting?” Rose interrupted, her voice taking on an edge. “Why, Annie is family.”
Margaret gave a small, tight smile. “So you’ll probably be looking for a job, and I know they’re desperate for nurses