Home Free. Claire McEwen
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parked by the barn and buried the heat of her face in her hands. What was wrong with her? When would she get over her fears? And why had she lied about them, again?
The answer was obvious. She was a coward. A coward with a bunch more livestock to feed. She’d have to run along the fence like a maniac, tossing hay over at different places as fast as she could. It was risky. The cattle might push each other against the barbed wire trying to get the hay.
Later today she’d call around and see if she could find temporary workers to help out on the ranch. For now, she’d just have to survive. She knew one thing for sure—there was no way she was going into a pasture with those scary, slobbery creatures again.
* * *
ARCH WATCHED MANDY’S truck swerve away in a cloud of dust. He’d thought they’d made a connection yesterday. That maybe they’d started some kind of friendship. He’d lain awake like a fool last night, reliving that moment when she’d brought him the cake. When she’d made him feel like he mattered.
As soon as he got done with his morning chores, he’d resolved to go find her, to thank her, to let her know what her kindness had meant. He’d ridden through the gate that separated their properties with high hopes. Of what he wasn’t sure. Maybe just more of what it felt like to be near her. Because she’d seen him as a real person, not just an ex-convict. Maybe because she was beautiful, and he wanted to see that beauty again.
But when he’d found her, none of that had been there. Except her beauty, of course. That wasn’t even dimmed by her pale skin, her worried eyes or the traces of dirt on her cheek. But the warmth, the sense that she cared, were all gone. Instead she’d almost run him over, trying to get away as fast as possible. Something had changed for her completely. But what?
It hit him like a blow to the sternum. She’d gone back to the wedding reception yesterday and talked with Nora and Wade about the bad he’d done. About what a heartless brother he’d been. That was what had changed. He couldn’t blame her for trying to avoid him. If he heard those stories, he’d hate that guy, too.
Anger rose, at himself, at his choices. Anger was his lifelong companion, the cartoon devil on his shoulder. In prison, there’d been a chaplain, Pastor Doug, who’d become Arch’s mentor and friend. Doug called anger the go-to emotion, because it was the first to show up. The pastor’s words rose from memory and settled him. Stop. Identify the feelings. All of them.
Arch took a deep breath and tried to make space in his mind. There was anger, always. But there was more. Frustration that his past was coloring every moment of the present. Disappointment that Mandy wasn’t looking at him the way she had yesterday. Shame that he wasn’t worthy of anyone’s regard. Fear that he never would be.
Losing the glimmer of hope she’d offered him felt big. Truth was, he’d been hanging on to it like a lifeline. But trying to get that hope from Mandy, or from anyone, was a big mistake. The only hope that mattered was the feeling deep inside him. That small, stubborn belief that he could be a better person.
He had to remake his life on his own. And standing around here feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to get him far.
Arch swung onto the big gelding. Funny, he didn’t even know the horse’s name. He’d seemed strong and calm. The best choice for a big guy like Arch. And they’d gotten along well so far.
He’d found a path that connected the two ranches via a big well at the top of both properties. He’d take that way home now. And along the way he’d try to put Mandy out of his thoughts.
Fall in the eastern Sierra brought cold mornings, even on sunny days. His breath was visible where the peaks cast their shadows. Arch focused on gratitude, for the chilly air in his lungs and the feel of the big horse under him. If there was a definition of freedom, it had to be this. Riding alone in the quiet of the autumn mountains. Granite boulders scattered everywhere, turning landscape into moonscape. Sagebrush clinging to the dry soil.
Arch leaned down and broke off a sprig, inhaling its earthy, rich scent. And something inside him broke open, his gratitude expanding in a warm, soaring feeling that lifted his shoulders and lightened his heart. The deepest relief. The purest joy. Elation. Because he was here in this beauty. He was home. He was free. And that miracle mattered, more than anything.
* * *
THE TRAIL WOUND lower into the deep valley that sheltered Marker Ranch. When the terrain leveled, Arch let the gelding break into a lope, loving the speed and the horse’s smooth gait. Eventually the trail became dirt road. They passed recently painted outbuildings. Mended fences. Arch slowed the horse to a walk near the newly repaired barn.
A dark blue pickup was parked alongside it. A man was leaning on the tailgate, waiting. The horse’s pace quickened, as if he recognized the visitor.
“You found trouble,” the man called.
Arch stopped the horse a few paces away. “Pardon me?”
The man stepped forward and rubbed the horse’s nose, and Arch caught a glimpse of a lean face under the brim of a worn brown felt hat. “Trouble. That’s this horse’s name.”
Arch couldn’t contain his laugh. “I always was good at finding trouble. Guess not much has changed. You must be Todd.”
“I sure am.” Todd ran a hand over Trouble’s neck and stepped back to take the big horse in. “He’s looking good.”
“He’s great to ride. I don’t know much about any of the horses. I just picked him because he’s big.”
“You picked well. He used to be wild, you know. Found him sweltering in a government corral about sixty miles south of here. He was angry as hell, so no one would adopt him. But with some time and patience, he came around.”
Arch swung his leg over Trouble’s back, his legs just a little wobbly when he hit the ground. His brother-in-law stuck his hand out and Arch took it, gratified by the firm grip. “Thanks for stopping by,” he said. “Good to meet you.”
Todd just nodded, assessing him the same as he’d done to the horse. Calm and observant. Then his glance went to Arch’s arm, where Trouble was trying to nibble at his sleeve. “Trouble likes you. So that’s a good sign.”
“He’s a good horse,” Arch said. “You did a fine job with him.”
“I gentled him, but your brother Wade trained him,” Todd said. “Trouble’s the second mustang he’s trained.”
His little brother trained wild horses. Arch was getting random pieces of the puzzle. If he put them together, maybe he could learn all he’d missed. “Well, I’ll have to compliment him, then.”
Todd gave the horse a gentle pat on the neck, but his voice was firm. “He’s put a lot of work into his horses. And into fixing up this ranch.”
“I know,” Arch told him.
“No, you don’t know, actually.” Todd stood up straighter. He wasn’t a huge guy. Tall, for sure, but still a couple of inches shorter than Arch, and lanky and lean. “You don’t know the work your brother and sister put in to clean this place up. It took months. It made them a little crazy. They’ve lived with snide comments and dirty looks because of the things you did. Things they had no part in.”
Todd didn’t need bulk and muscle. The guy was a ninja with words, cutting and slashing right to the point, leaving wounds salted with pure truth. The pain of it made Arch gruff. “You’re right. I was born and raised a complete asshole. When I got old enough, I continued that family tradition all on my own.”
“You’ve got no excuse?” Todd crossed his arms, waiting.
“Nope. I did stuff that is inexcusable. Look, Todd, I don’t have a list of reasons. I was who I was. The guy my dad taught me to be. I hate that guy, but I was that guy. In some ways I’ll never be rid of him.” The pain of it coiled in his guts.
“So what’s changed? Why should