Iron Will. B.J. Daniels
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Chapter Seven
Hank Savage squinted into the sun glaring off the dirty windshield of his pickup as his family ranch came into view. He slowed the truck to a stop, resting one sun-browned arm over the top of the steering wheel as he took in the Cardwell Ranch.
The ranch with all its log-and-stone structures didn’t appear to have changed in the least. Nor had the two-story house where he’d grown up. Memories flooded him of hours spent on the back of a horse, of building forts in the woods around the creek, of the family sitting around the large table in the kitchen in the mornings, the sun pouring in, the sound of laughter. He saw and felt everything he’d given up, everything he’d run from, everything he’d lost.
“Been a while?” asked the sultry, dark-haired woman in the passenger seat.
He nodded despite the lump in his throat, shoved back his Stetson and wondered what the hell he was doing back here. This was a bad idea, probably his worst ever.
“Having second thoughts?” He’d warned her about his big family, but she’d said she could handle it. He wasn’t all that sure even he could handle it. He prided himself on being fearless about most things. Give him a bull that hadn’t been ridden and he wouldn’t hesitate to climb right on. Same with his job as a lineman. He’d faced gale winds hanging from a pole to get the power back on, braved getting fried more times than he liked to remember.
But coming back here, facing the past? He’d never been more afraid. He knew it was just a matter of time before he saw Naomi—just as he had in his dreams, in his nightmares. She was here, right where he’d left her, waiting for him as she had been for three long years. Waiting for him to come back and make things right.
He looked over at Frankie. “You sure about this?”
She sat up straighter to gaze at the ranch and him, took a breath and let it out. “I am if you are. After all, this was your idea.”
Like she had to remind him. “Then I suggest you slide over here.” He patted the seat between them and she moved over, cuddling against him as he put his free arm around her. She felt small and fragile, certainly not ready for what he suspected they would be facing. For a moment, he almost changed his mind. It wasn’t too late. He didn’t have the right to involve her.
“It’s going to be okay,” she said and nuzzled his neck where his dark hair curled at his collar. “Trust me.”
He pulled her closer and let his foot up off the brake. The pickup began to roll toward the ranch. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Frankie. He just knew that it was only a matter of time before Naomi came to him pleading with him to do what he should have done three years ago. He felt a shiver even though the summer day was unseasonably warm.
I’m here.
“Looking out that window isn’t going to make him show up any sooner,” Marshal Hud Savage said to his wife.
“I can’t help being excited. It’s been three years.” Dana Cardwell Savage knew she didn’t need to tell him how long it had been. Hud had missed his oldest son as much or more than she had. But finally Hank was coming home—and bringing someone with him. “Do you think it’s because he’s met someone that he’s coming back?”
Hud put a large hand on her shoulder. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions, okay? We won’t know anything until he gets here. I just don’t want to see you get your hopes up.”
Her hopes were already up, so there was no mitigating that. Family had always been the most important thing to her. Having her sons all fly the nest had been heartbreak, especially Hank, especially under the circumstances.
She told herself not to think about that. Nothing was going to spoil this day. Her oldest son was coming home after all this time. That had to be good news. And he was bringing someone. She hoped that meant Hank was moving on from Naomi.
“Is that his pickup?” she cried as a black truck came into view. She felt goose bumps pop up on her arms. “I think that’s him.”
“Try not to cry and make a fuss,” her husband said even as tears blurred her eyes. “Let them at least get into the yard,” he said as she rushed to the front door and threw it open. “Why do I bother?” he mumbled behind her.
* * *
FRANKIE KNEW THE sixty-two-year-old woman who rushed out on the porch had to be Dana Cardwell Savage. Hank had told her about his family. She thought about the softness that came into his voice when he talked about his mother. She’d heard about Dana’s strength and determination, but she could also see it in the way she stood hugging herself in her excitement and her curiosity.
Hank had warned her that him bringing home a woman would cause a stir. Frankie could see his mother peering inside the pickup, trying to imagine what woman had stolen her son’s heart. She felt a small stab of guilt but quickly pushed it away as a man appeared behind Dana.
Marshal Hud Savage. She’d also heard a lot about him. When Hank had mentioned his dad, she’d seen the change not just in his tone, but his entire body. The trouble between the two ran deep. While Dana was excited, holding nothing back, Frankie could see that Hud was reserved. He had to worry that this wouldn’t be a happy homecoming considering the way he’d left things with his oldest son.
Hank’s arm tensed around her as he parked and cut the engine. She had the feeling that