The Cowboy's Family Christmas. Carolyne Aarsen
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“He might not have time,” his father said, as if Reuben was no more than a salesman whom George felt he had to be polite to.
Reuben pushed himself up, glancing from his father back to Leanne. He guessed her invitation was more a formality than anything. That his father could be so cool to him he fully understood. Nothing new there.
But Leanne? The woman he had, at one time, thought would be his?
“No. I should get going,” Reuben said, fighting down his own resentment and anger.
Good thing the opinion of other people had never mattered to him. Otherwise this could have been a genuinely painful moment.
“Will you be coming by again?” his father asked.
“I’ll have to see how things go” was all he would say. No sense in pushing himself on either his father or his sister-in-law if he didn’t have to.
George turned to Leanne. “I’m going back to the house.”
Then without another word to Reuben, he walked away, shoulders bent, head down.
He looked much older than the last time Reuben had seen him, and in spite of his father’s lack of welcome and veiled animosity, Reuben felt the sting of remorse that he’d stayed away so long.
It wasn’t your fault.
Maybe not, but he should have been the bigger man. Should have set aside the old hurts and slights. In spite of how George treated him, he was still Reuben’s father.
He set aside his regrets for now and looked to Leanne, guessing he would get neither handshake nor hug from her. Not the way she stared daggers at him. As if she had any right.
“So we might see you around?” she asked. The chill in her voice almost made him shudder.
But then, to his surprise, she held his gaze a beat longer than necessary and once again the old feelings came back.
“I’m sure. It’s a small town,” he returned, then he turned to Austin and gave the little boy a quick grin. “So, I’ll see you again,” he said to his nephew.
“Bring a present?” Austin asked.
“Austin, that’s not polite.” Leanne gave her son’s hand a gentle reprimanding shake.
“I should have thought of that,” Reuben said with a light laugh. “After all, I am your uncle and uncles should come with presents.”
“I like horses. My dad liked horses.”
Reuben’s heart twisted. Once again his and Leanne’s eyes met.
“I never had a chance to tell you how sorry I was to hear about Dirk,” he said, thumbing his hat back. As if to see her better.
“He was your brother too.” Leanne’s voice held a thread of sorrow and for a moment they acknowledged their shared grief.
“He was a good brother. And I’m sure he was a good husband.”
Leanne released a harsh laugh. “I hardly had the chance to find out. We were only married two weeks.” She pressed her lips together and Reuben took a quick step toward her. Before he even knew what he was doing he laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, tightening it enough to let her know that he understood.
She stayed where she was a moment, but then jerked back, her features growing hard. She turned to Austin. “I’ll get you a drink, sweetie, but first we should put your horse away.”
Then she left, Austin trailing alongside her, her head held high, back stiff, exuding waves of rejection.
“Bye, Uncle Wooben,” Austin called out, looking back.
Reuben waved goodbye. It was time for him to leave but he waited, watching Leanne as she walked down the grassy path toward the corrals where a horse stood, waiting patiently. She told Austin to stay where he was as she climbed over the fence.
He wanted to ask her why she thought she had the right to be so angry with him when she was the one who’d run back to his brother as soon as Dirk came back into her life. Ask her what happened to those promises they made to each other in Costa Rica. When she had told him that she’d always cared for him.
Had they all been lies?
He spun around, striding back to his truck. That duty was done. He wished he had listened to the realistic part of himself and simply driven past this place and the two people who didn’t want him around.
Reuben slipped his sunglasses on and climbed into his truck. He started it up and, without a backward glance, drove off the ranch that had been his home for years.
He and Leanne were over. He had to look to his own future.
And as he drove, he second-guessed his plan to work in Cedar Ridge for the Rodeo Group.
He glanced back at the ranch as it grew smaller in his rearview mirror.
Why should he put himself through this on purpose?
He would talk to Owen Herne. Tell him he wasn’t taking on the job. He had no reason at all to stay in town.
Tomorrow he’d leave and Cedar Ridge would only be a memory.
“I know I put you on the spot, but I don’t have much choice.” Reuben rolled his coffee cup back and forth between his hands, looking everywhere but at his cousin Cord and his Uncle Boyce sitting across from him at the Brand and Grill. “I can’t do this job.”
The muted hum of conversation and the occasional order called out by Adana, one of the waitresses, filled the silence that followed his pronouncement.
Cord Walsh lifted one hand, his green-grey eyes narrowed. “You said you were willing,” he said. “We could have gotten someone else, but you said you could do this. We don’t have much time to get this done.”
“I know that, but I also know what I can and can’t do.”
“Did your other job get moved up?” Boyce asked, swiping his plate with the last bite of toast. “That why you changed your mind?”
“No. It still doesn’t start for a couple of weeks but...” He hesitated, wondering what to say without sounding like some heartsick loser. “I don’t think coming back was a good idea.” He pushed his coffee cup away from him and sat back, as well. He didn’t want to say any more than that in front of his uncle, George’s brother.
Boyce was busy taking one last swig of his coffee. But Cord held his gaze for an extra beat as if delving into Reuben’s thoughts.
If anyone knew Reuben’s history, it was his cousin. Cord knew most of Reuben’s secrets. Most, not all. The only other cousin who understood where Reuben was coming from was Noah. He also had to deal with a father who was never satisfied.
“Okay, then,” Cord said with an air of resignation, glancing at his father. “I’m guessing we can’t change your mind with our Walsh charm or appeal to your Walsh heritage.”
Reuben chuckled. “Probably not. I’m immune to those tactics.” Then he reached into the pocket of his denim jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He pushed it across the table to Cord. “Here are the names of a couple of other guys you could get. They haven’t made any firm commitments and they won’t be available for a month or so. But they’re good too.” After his disastrous visit to his father’s ranch, Reuben had made a few calls from the motel to some other engineers he knew. He got a couple of vague commitments from some old classmates. It was the best he could do under the circumstances.
“So tell us about this job you’re starting,” Boyce said, looking up as Cord pocketed the note. Clearly his uncle wasn’t going to try to convince Reuben to stay. “I