Home to Wyoming. Rebecca Winters
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didn’t know you’d be on this flight. You didn’t by any chance see a woman and little girl on board, did you? The Forresters didn’t come in on the last flight. I was supposed to pick them up in front, but they weren’t outside, so I figured they’d be in here getting their luggage. Some of the bags still haven’t been claimed.”
So the woman and her daughter were the Forresters!
After overhearing part of her phone conversation with “Frank,” he’d pretty much ruled her out as possibly being the widow of Daniel Forrester.
The marine’s heroism had been lauded after he’d taken a grenade to save members of his platoon from certain death. He’d been buried only nine months ago. Not that his wife couldn’t have found herself in another relationship this fast. The woman was a raving beauty.
Come to think of it, Melanie and Buck’s brother had gotten close much faster than that while he’d been away at school. But Melanie hadn’t lost a husband in the war. Somehow, Buck would have expected a grieving widow to take a little longer to recover. The woman had already removed her wedding ring. Still, it was none of his business.
“I sat next to a mother and daughter in the airport lounge in Salt Lake, but I had no idea they were the family we’re hosting. Unfortunately, I was the last one off the plane.” He frowned, wondering if the turbulence had made one of them ill. They were his responsibility, after all. “Maybe they’re in the restroom. Stay here.”
He started across the terminal lounge to look around when he saw them come out of an alcove and head for the luggage carousel. The little girl clung to her mother’s hand. Buck closed in on them.
“Mrs. Forrester?”
She swung halfway around, giving him the frontal view he’d been trying to glimpse earlier. Midnight-blue eyes connected with his. He thought she looked surprised to see him. She probably hadn’t expected the man with the cough at the Salt Lake airport to be the one greeting her.
She was maybe thirty. A generously curved mouth and high cheekbones were set in an oval face. Her classic features appealed to him as much as the rest of her. She was a very attractive woman. He thought of Carson and the way he’d felt when he’d first laid eyes on Tracy.
Damn.
He looked down at her daughter, who showed all the promise of growing up to be a beauty herself. “I’m Buck Summerhayes, one of the partners at the dude ranch. Welcome to Teton Valley.” He shook her hand.
“Thank you, Mr. Summerhayes. We’re very happy to be here.” Although her tone sounded cordial enough, she seemed a bit subdued. Maybe the flight had made her ill.
“Let me introduce Willy Felder. He’s one of our staff and will be taking us back to the ranch.”
“My name’s Alex. How do you do?” She shook hands with him.
“If you’ll tell Willy which of those bags are yours, he’ll take them out to the van.”
“They’re the red ones.”
“Red’s my favorite color,” the little girl piped up.
Buck smiled. “So I can see.” He squatted in front of her. She was wearing jeans and a red top with a princess on the front. “It’s nice to meet you, Jennifer. I’m glad you’re coming to the ranch. I forget—are you six or seven?”
“Seven.”
“Jenny had a birthday last week,” her mother explained.
“Well, congratulations, Jenny!” he said. “The owner of the dude ranch, Carson Lundgren, has a son named Johnny who’s going to turn seven next Thursday. You’ll meet him at breakfast in the morning. He’ll want to show you his pony, Goldie.”
“I’ve never seen a real pony.”
“We’ve got four of them.”
“Can I have a ride on one?”
He smiled. “You can pick your favorite and start riding first thing in the morning. Do you know you have the prettiest green eyes?”
“So do you.” Her comment took him by surprise. She seemed so grown up for a seven-year-old. “My daddy’s were green, too.”
“That explains their color.” A lump lodged in his throat. This was Daniel Forrester’s little girl, who would have to live without him for the rest of her life. “Your daddy was a very brave man. We invited you to the ranch as our way of honoring him.”
Her features sobered, but she didn’t tear up. “Were you in the war?”
“Yes.”
“How come you’re not there now?”
“That’s a good question. It’s because I got sick while I was in Afghanistan and had to come home. So did my friends Carson and Ross who run the ranch. They have coughs, too.”
“I heard you coughing at the airport.”
“I saw you sleeping, and I’m sorry if I woke you up. I cough a lot, but just remember you can’t catch it from me.”
“Why not?” She was curious like Johnny, a trait he found endearing.
“Because it’s not a cough from a cold. It’s from breathing the bad air in the war.”
She looked up at her mother with an anxious expression. “Do you think Daddy got that cough, too?”
“I don’t think so, or he would have said something in his emails.”
Jenny looked a trifle pale. The mention of her father must have upset her. “Let’s get going to the ranch. It’s only a short drive away. I’m sure you’re tired and hungry.”
“I got sick on the plane.”
That explained her pallor. “I’m sorry about that. Our plane did get bounced around, but we’re on the ground now. Are you thirsty?”
“Not yet.”
Buck got to his feet and turned to the girl’s mother. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes, thank you.”
He guessed that she couldn’t wait to get to the ranch and put her daughter to bed. “Then let’s go. The van’s right outside.”
When they exited the terminal into the darkness, the wind was blowing so fiercely it was a good thing he wasn’t wearing his cowboy hat. He saw lightning flashes followed by thunder. It was going to rain before they reached the ranch. Willy opened the van door to help Jenny and her mother get in. A strong gust caused her skirt to ride up those fabulous legs just as Buck climbed in behind her. Once behind the wheel, Willy pulled away. Two minutes later, the downpour started.
“Where’s that big mountain?” Jenny wanted to know. She rested her head against her mother, who had a protective arm around her. He noticed she squeezed her daughter harder every time there was another clap of thunder.
“The Grand Teton is to the right of us, but with the storm, you won’t be able to see it until tomorrow.”
“I’m scared.”
Willy had turned on the windshield wipers, but it was still hard to see.
“You don’t need to be, Jenny. We’re perfectly safe in the van, and in a few minutes we’ll have you tucked in bed in our cabin. You’ll be as cozy as the red squirrel who lives in a hole in the fir tree near the main ranch house.”
“It’s really red?”
When Buck smiled, Jenny’s mother reciprocated. “Not exactly like your top. More of a burnt-orange-red color. Moppy likes pine nuts.”
“Moppy?” Jenny squealed in delight, her fear forgotten for the moment.
“That’s Carson’s name for her.”
“I