Kitabı oku: «Her Cowboy Hero»

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

It had been many months and many miles since he’d driven this road to Refuge Ranch. A lot of memories and a lot of pain.

Tanner Fortier’s foot hit the brakes as he stopped his truck at the top of the hill, a cloud of snow swirling around his vehicle. From this vantage point he looked across the basin cradling Refuge Ranch to the mountains beyond; their gray, forbidding surfaces softened by the winter snowpack, a hard white against the endless blue of the Montana sky.

He shivered a moment, the chill of winter easing into the cab of his pickup. The side windows hadn’t completely cleared of frost since Bozeman.

Tanner stacked his gloved hands on the steering wheel, reinforcing his defenses before descending into the valley and the Bannister Ranch. He hadn’t come willingly. He would have preferred to go directly to the Circle C Ranch. Though he hadn’t been away from his childhood home as long as from the Bannister ranch, he would have liked to spend some time there, catch his breath before coming here.

He rolled his shoulder, tensing against the pain that knifed through it, a souvenir from a rank saddle bronc who had spun in when Tanner expected him to spin out. Tanner had lost his seat but, as if to add insult to injury, had also received a well-placed kick that had dislocated his shoulder and put him out of the money for that particular rodeo and had ruined his saddle.

Monty Bannister had been the one who made that saddle, and Tanner wanted Monty to be the one to fix it. Hence his trip here first. The sooner the saddle was fixed, the sooner Tanner could head out on the road again.

The fact that Keira Bannister, his old girlfriend and fiancée, was back living at Refuge Ranch was something he’d have to deal with.

Tanner sent up a quick prayer for strength, put his truck in gear and headed down the road. He wouldn’t be long. Just a quick chat with Monty Bannister, drop off his saddle, say hello to his stepmother, who was staying at the Bannister ranch to help Ellen recuperate, and then head back to his father’s ranch a few miles down the road.

Correction, stepmother’s ranch. The thought could still gall him even after all these years. In spite of working alongside his father since he was a little boy, everything changed when his father died unexpectedly of a heart attack five years ago. When the will was read after the funeral, Tanner found out the ranch had been willed to his stepmother in its entirety. And a couple of months later, Alice had made it clear that she preferred that her natural son, David, take over the ranch. Not Tanner.

In spite of all of that, it was still his childhood home. Tanner had figured on staying at the Circle C for the few days it took for his saddle to be repaired and then heading back to his garage in Sheridan, then off to his buddy’s ranch near Vegas to get ready for the National Finals Rodeo. The super bowl of rodeos. The big one.

The rodeo that would, hopefully, help him let go of the burden that had been haunting him the past two years.

He cut through a grove of snow-laden ponderosa pines then slowed as he entered the draw sheltering the ranch buildings. Refuge Ranch looked so much the same it gave him an ache. And yet, as he looked over the familiar gathering of barns, hay sheds, bunkhouse and main house, he noticed a new addition. Tucked behind a grove of trees, to the left of the main house was another house that had been built while he was gone.

Was it Keira’s? he wondered as he pulled into the yard.

Then, as he made that final turn, he saw her.

Her face was hidden by a misshapen cowboy hat pulled low over her head and a red knitted scarf wound around her neck. A too-large, worn oilskin coat flapped around her legs, meeting laced sheepskin boots.

It could have been anyone.

Except Tanner knew that sideways tilt of her head, how she always bunched her hands inside the sleeves of her coats. How, even bundled in winter clothes, he recognized the way her purposeful stride ate up the ground.

His heart gave an unwelcome thump and his foot hit the brake too hard. His truck slid a foot or two on the packed snow, then came to a halt just as Keira Bannister looked up.

He knew the moment she saw him. Her hands fell out of her sleeves and dropped to her sides. Her narrow chin came up and her lips thinned. Even though her bangs hung well over her eyes, he caught a glitter in their blue depths that matched the chill of the sky above them. She looked angry, which puzzled him, which, in turn, made him angry.

She was the one who had broken up with him. He was the one who, if his life was a country song, had been done wrong. What right did she have to be angry?

He was the one who had tried to get them back together after their breakup when he’d returned from that string of rodeos they’d fought about. But when he’d come back to Saddlebank, she’d disappeared. Hadn’t responded to any of his calls, emails or texts. Absolute silence. And on top of that, she hadn’t even bothered showing up at his stepbrother’s funeral two years ago. Keira had known David almost as well as she’d known Tanner. But in no way did she acknowledge the loss of Tanner’s stepbrother and rodeo partner. She hadn’t bothered to send a note, a card, not even the courtesy of a simple text message.

What right did she have to look so angry?

Their gazes held a moment and in spite of the raft of negative feelings the sight of her created, woven through them all was an emotion older and deeper than that new anger and frustration. An emotion that had grown and matured as they grew up together, friends, confidants and then sweethearts.

Tanner swallowed, as if the tightening of his throat could keep those older feelings from rising up. He was surprised at how easily they returned when he saw her. He had heard, via his stepmother, Alice, that Keira had come back to Saddlebank two years ago. A month after David’s funeral.

He knew nothing more than that. After David’s death Tanner had had no reason to return to Saddlebank so he had stayed away, working in the mechanic business that had been part of the reason he and Keira had broken up.

He took a deep breath, clapped his hat on his head and stepped out of the pickup into the chill wind that whistled down from the mountains. The sooner he got this done, the sooner he could be on his way.

He closed his truck door, tugged on his gloves, turned up the collar of his woolen coat against the cold wind that cut through the yard and walked toward Keira.

She watched him as he came, her head up, her mouth still a tight line, her cheeks a rosy glow. Blond strands of hair had slipped free from her hat and caught the wind, waving in front of her face. She batted them away, her eyes on him.

Beautiful as ever.

He caught the errant thought and pushed it back into the past.

“Hey, Keira,” he said as he approached her. He stopped himself from adding the ubiquitous how are you doing because it seemed superfluous.

“Hey, Tanner,” was her tight reply, her breath creating wisps of vapor tugged by the wind as she tucked her wayward hair back under her hat. She reached down and petted her dog, Sugar, on his head, then shot another look at Tanner.

Sugar released a gentle whine, then trotted over to Tanner and sniffed at him. Then he sat down, looking up as if expecting something from him.

“Hey, Sugar,” Tanner said, petting the dog, who seemed happier to see him than Keira did.

He looked back at her. They stood facing each other a moment, like combatants trying to decide who would make the first move. Guess it was up to him. “So how’s your mother feeling?” he asked as Sugar stretched, then returned to Keira’s side.

“Today is a better day, according to your mom.” She angled her chin toward the main ranch house. “You going in to see Alice? She’s there right now.”

“I will in a few minutes.” Tanner’s stepmother was a home care nurse and right now her job was taking care of Keira’s mother, Ellen Bannister, as well as babysitting Adana, John’s little girl. John Argall was the ranch’s hired hand. Ellen had taken care of Adana until she had broken her neck in a freak fall and was now recuperating under Alice’s supervision. “I’m actually here to see Monty. He around?”

Keira shoved her hands back in her sleeves as her hair came free again. “He went to Saddlebank to get the mail and meet up with his cronies at the Grill and Chill. You can call him on his cell.”

Tanner did a double take. “Monty has a cell phone? Those are words I never thought I’d hear.” He couldn’t imagine Monty, a hidebound Luddite and proud of it, packing a cell phone.

“Yeah. He got it when Mom had her neck fusion surgery done.” Keira’s hesitant tone generated a thrum of sympathy.

“I was sorry to hear about the accident,” Tanner said. “Must have been scary.”

“It was. We’re thankful that nothing...nothing worse happened. It was a bad fall.”

Keira’s gaze ticked over his, and for a moment he wondered if she was going to say anything about David. Though two years had passed since the accident that killed his brother, Keira and Tanner hadn’t seen each other since his death.

But nothing.

Instead, Keira lifted her chin, staring directly at him. Her challenging attitude disturbed him, but it hurt him more. “What do you need to see my dad about?”

“I have a saddle I want him to fix,” Tanner said. “Maybe I can drop it off and he can call me later?”

“Dad doesn’t do much leather work anymore,” was Keira’s curt reply.

This was a surprise. Monty had been in the saddle-making business since he was a boy. He had learned the craft from his father and was a sought-after leather artisan. He had crafted numerous saddles given as awards in rodeos all over the Western states. The last Tanner had heard, Refuge Ranch Leatherworks was still a going concern. “I didn’t think your dad would quit until someone dragged him out of here. When did that happen?”

“Since the doctor told him to slow down, and I took over.”

Tanner frowned at that, trying to process this information.

“So if you want your saddle looked at, I’m the one you need to talk to,” Keira said. Then she spun around and ducked into the shop, Sugar right on her heels. Tanner wasn’t sure whether her abrupt departure meant the conversation was over or that he should follow her into the shop.

He assumed the latter, returned to his truck and pulled the bronc saddle out of the cab. He walked to the shop, and stepped inside.

After the glare of the sun on the snow outside, Tanner had to pause and let his vision adjust to the darker interior. He pulled his hat off then looked around the space of a shop that was once as familiar to him as his own home. He would often keep Keira company here when she did piecework for her father. He’d loved watching as she cut and stitched and did the intricate leather tooling on the saddles Monty was known for.

Neither Keira’s older brother, Lee, or sister, Heather, were interested in the business that their father had taken over from his father. Heather’s focus was barrel racing and Lee... Well, Lee liked his fun, running around with his buddy Mitch and, at times, Tanner’s brother, David.

Keira was moving some pieces of cut leather off the heavy butcher-block worktable dominating the center of the building as Tanner set the saddle on it.

Across from the table, rows of shelves stacked with boxes holding grommets, snaps, buckles and rigging D’s and other hardware necessary for saddle making filled most of the wall. Beside the shelves hung stirrups made of metal, or leather-covered wood, all lined up by size and shape. Next to them stood an old rolltop desk that held binders of photos of completed projects to show prospective customers.

Sugar lay on an old worn rug lying by the chair as he always did when Keira worked here.

The other corner of the shop was taken up by three industrial sewing machines. Beside them, perched on a saddle rack, was a half-finished saddle.

What had changed most was the wall opposite him. Monty used to hang pictures of finished saddles on it. Now shelves holding wallets, belts, briefcases and purses took up that space. Obviously a new venture for Refuge Ranch Leatherworks.

Keira brushed a few remnants of leather from the table, then adjusted a pile of cardboard patterns. Fussy work that kept her attention off him.

“Since when did you start cutting, stitching and stamping again?” Tanner asked, slipping his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

“When I came back. About two years ago.”

And a month after David’s funeral, he had discovered. Once again he wondered why she hadn’t attended the funeral. Once again the pain of her absence cut. He brushed the old feelings aside. They belonged to a past he’d closed the door on a long time ago.

“Looks like you’ve got a few other projects in the pipeline,” he said.

Keira rested her hands on the table in front of her, looking resolutely ahead at the wall of manufactured items Tanner guessed were made right here by her. “I’ve been taking the business in another direction,” was all she said.

“Pretty ambitious. Do you still do saddles?”

“I do a few. Dad helps out, and also helps me with the small work from time to time. He can’t stay completely out of it.” Her gaze skittered off him and onto the saddle now lying on the table between them. “That looks ragged.”

Tanner ran his hand over the misshapen cantle and adjusted the worn stirrups. “Last ride was a bit of a rodeo, if you’ll pardon the expression.” If it were his saddle, he would have junked it. But this saddle held memories, and he needed it fixed.

Keira shot him a frown. “You still riding? I thought you were done when you bought that mechanic shop in Sheridan, Wyoming?”

“I was, but I thought I’d take one more run at the NFR this year.”

Before his brother died, David had qualified for the National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas. After Tanner got over his grief, he promised himself he would do one last rodeo season in David’s honor, aiming to qualify for the NFR himself. This was that season and he had done well. He felt that God had honored his request to ride in the NFR for David. Had some good rides and made some good money. He’d gotten some injuries on his quest, but in a couple of weeks he would be riding in Vegas and he was determined to do it on David’s saddle.

He was equally determined to win. Maybe then he could lay his guilt over David’s death to rest.

“Wow, it certainly got a working over,” she said, examining the saddle carefully.

Her throaty voice was even. Well modulated. If anyone were listening, they would think she was talking to a complete stranger.

Not her former fiancé.

“The horse I drew was a bad spinner,” Tanner said. “Should have known when he looked back at me with those beady brown eyes. I thought I had him from the mark out but then he set me up. When he rolled back, everything went south. Landed on the saddle and fought for a while. Worst of it all, I was riding slack. Wasn’t even a performance.” Tanner caught himself midexplanation, aware that he was talking too much. It was a problem he had when he was nervous. He shut his mouth, then caught Keira’s puzzled look.

“You hurt your shoulder?” she asked.

Tanner hadn’t even realized he’d rolled his injured shoulder till she pointed it out. “It’s nothing.” It was more than nothing, but he didn’t want her sympathy. If she cared enough to give it.

Keira gave him a curt nod as she continued her inspection.

Tanner cleared his throat, wishing he felt less self-conscious in Keira’s presence. He’d struggled for the past six years to forget her. To forget how she had chosen to walk away from him without a word, without a response to his request to reconcile their broken engagement. An engagement she had called off. It had been a long, hard-won victory over his emotions and his past, and even in spite of losing David, he felt as if he had come to a better place in his life. A place where he could look ahead instead of always thinking about the “could-have-beens.”

Coming back here was a test for him. Keira’s continued hold on his heart had been preventing him from building new relationships.

He had hoped that by seeing Keira again he might finally be able to put her place in his life in perspective. Maybe even rid himself of her ever-present shadow.

Trouble was, now that he saw her again, he wasn’t sure if that was even possible.

* * *

Keira wished she could keep her hands from trembling as she handled the saddle under Tanner’s watchful gaze. What was wrong with her? She was prepared for Tanner’s arrival. Alice, Tanner’s stepmother, had mentioned it a couple of days ago. Had even given a date.

Yet, seeing him now, his brown eyes edged with sooty lashes and framed by the slash of dark brows, the hard planes of his face emphasized by the stubble shadowing his jaw and cheeks, brought back painful memories Keira thought she had put aside.

He looked the same and yet different. Harder. Leaner. He wore his sandy brown hair longer; brushing the collar of his shirt, giving him a reckless look at odds with the Tanner she had once known.

And loved.

She sucked in a rapid breath as she turned over the saddle, the wooden stirrups thumping dully on the table. Tanner seemed to fill the cramped shop, and Keira sensed his every movement.

Keep your focus on your work, she reminded herself, pulling her attention back to the broken saddle she was examining.

“So? What’s the verdict, Latigo Kid?” Tanner asked.

His casual use of the old nickname he always used for her caught her off guard. And when her startled gaze caught his surprised one, she guessed the name had fallen out unintentionally.

She dragged her attention back to the saddle. “I don’t know if it’s worth fixing this,” she said quietly, examining the bottom, then the stirrup leathers. “Back billet is broken. The swell cover is ripped and it looks pretty rough. You’ve worked it over pretty good with that wire brush.”

“Resin stays on better that way.”

Keira acknowledged his comment with a quick nod. Saddle bronc riders often sprinkled resin on their saddles to help them stay seated. The wire brush roughed up the leather so the resin stuck better.

“The stirrup leathers should be replaced,” she said, continuing her litany of repairs. “You’ll need new latigos, and the D rings need to be reattached if not replaced. It’ll be a lot of work.”

Tanner sighed as he tugged his gloves off and shoved them in the pocket of his worn plaid jacket. “But can you fix it?”

“I’d need to take it apart to see. It might need a whole new tree. If that’s the case, two weeks?” She was pleased at how even her voice sounded. At how businesslike she could be. As if he was simply another customer.

“That’s cutting it close,” Tanner said, scratching his cheek with his index finger. “I know you’ve got other projects going on, but is it possible to get it done quicker?”

Keira would have preferred not to work on it at all. It would mean that, instead of him dropping in to say hello to his mother and then leaving, Tanner would be around more often so she could fit the saddle and make the necessary adjustments.

So far she was doing okay with seeing him. It had taken her years to relegate Tanner to the shadowy recesses of her mind. She didn’t know if she could maintain any semblance of the hard-won peace she now experienced if she had to see him more often. Tanner was too ingrained in her past and too connected to memories she had spent hours in prayer trying to bury.

“I’m gonna need it for the National Finals in Vegas in a couple of weeks,” Tanner continued. “I was hoping to practice on it before that.”

“Your mother said you had qualified. That’s quite a feat.” Keira knew this from terse comments Alice dropped here and there, but overall Alice kept most news of Tanner to herself, and Keira didn’t press for more. She knew she had no right to know what was going on in Tanner’s life. Not after she’d left him the way she had.

“I placed third overall in the regular season,” Tanner said. “Missed a few rodeos cause of injuries, so I’m hoping to do better in Vegas.”

Tanner and his brother, David, had ridden the rodeo together since they first qualified as novices. They had both rode saddle broncs and competed in the same rodeos, often working their way up the ranks together.

In fact, it was Tanner’s involvement in rodeo that had been one of the points of contention between them when she and Tanner were dating. She hated watching him risk his life each time he mounted a saddle bronc. She also hated the fact that after his father died, instead of working on the Circle C Ranch, he had taken a job working as a mechanic’s apprentice. Between his work and rodeoing, they’d hardly seen each other. She had always thought he would take over his father’s ranch. He’d been working on it since he was a boy, but after Cyrus Fortier died, Tanner went to work full-time as a mechanic. He couldn’t get work in Saddlebank or Bozeman, and ended up working for a mechanic in Sheridan, Wyoming, a five-hour drive from the ranch. They had fought bitterly about that, and Tanner wouldn’t tell her why he had taken on the work. She’d finally found out after their worst fight, when she’d ended their engagement, that Tanner’s stepmother had inherited the ranch and all the holdings. But by the time she’d found out, it was too late to talk about it. She had already given him his ring back and had moved on.

“I heard you’re still doing mechanic work, as well?”

“Still pulling wrenches except last year I bought out the owner. Now I’m the boss, which means I can take off when I want. I took over the shop in Sheridan after a good rodeo run. The same one I started working on before—” He cut himself off there, but didn’t need to finish. Keira knew exactly what he meant.

Before that summer when she left Tanner and Saddlebank, without allowing him the second chance he so desperately wanted. Before that summer when everything changed.

A heavy silence dropped between them as solid as a wall. Keira turned away, pushing the memories down again. Burying them deep where they couldn’t taunt her.

But Tanner’s very presence teased them to the surface.

Dear Lord, help me through this situation. I don’t have enough strength on my own.

She looked up at him to tell him she couldn’t work on the saddle, but as she did she felt a jolt of awareness. In his eyes she saw puzzlement and hurt. She tried to tear her gaze away but it was as if the old bond that had once connected them still bound them to each other.

Her resolve weakened and against her better judgment she took another look at the saddle, weighing, judging. “I don’t know....” Her voice trailed off. She wasn’t sure she wanted to have anything more to do with Tanner than she could possibly avoid. Fixing his saddle would put them in each other’s paths far too often.

“I’d appreciate it if you could fix it. It means a lot to me.” His conciliatory tone, so at odds with the faint mockery that had laced his words previously, caught her off guard.

She sighed, wondering again if she was letting sentiment dictate her actions. She turned the saddle over again, looking at it more closely. Then she frowned.

“This saddle has some initials stamped on it,” she said quietly, turning the leather of the skirt over to show him. “I can’t make it out.”

“D.F. David Fortier. It was my brother’s saddle.”

David’s saddle. Keira’s heart, already overworked, kicked up another notch. “Why are you using it?” She pulled her hands away.

“In honor of him. We were getting to the end of the season when he died. He had qualified for the NFR. I promised myself to finish what he started. It took me two years, but here I am.”

Keira turned the saddle over again with trembling hands, then set it carefully aside. “I’m sorry, Tanner. I can’t fix the saddle for you.”

“What? Why not?” Tanner shot her a frustrated scowl. “I thought you said it would take two weeks.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think I can find two weeks to work on it. I’ll get you the card of someone who might be able to help you,” she said, turning her back to him as she rummaged through the old wooden desk, her hands trembling again as she pulled a business card out of one of the drawers. Sugar, startled out of his sleep, stood and looked up at her, his head tilted to one side as if wondering what she was doing.

Keira took a deep breath, sent up another prayer then handed the card to Tanner.

He took it then frowned. “Landolt?”

“He does good work.”

“Not as good as Monty. And you.”

Keira’s hand lowered as she looked from the card Tanner held to the saddle laying on the table. It was as if that inanimate object encapsulated so much of what lay between her and Tanner. And what could never be changed.

“There’s another guy in Idaho who dad refers people to,” she said, turning back to her desk. “I’ll see if I have his information.”

Just then the door of the shop opened, bringing in the chill of the outdoors and a flash of sunlight. Sugar jumped up and ran to the door.

“Well, well. If it isn’t Tanner Fortier.” Her father’s voice boomed into the silence as he shut the door behind him, closing off the cold and the light.

Keira turned in time to see Tanner enveloped in a bear hug by her tall, lean father. Monty was easily six feet tall but Tanner topped him by a couple of inches. Monty pulled back, shaking his head as he looked Tanner over. “You look like some castaway cowboy,” he teased, clapping a hand on Tanner’s worn jacket.

“I feel like one,” Tanner retorted as a truly genuine smile softened his harsh features, put a sparkle in his dark eyes and disturbed Keira’s equilibrium. “Been a busy season.”

“You did well, I understand. Enough to qualify for the NFR. Good stuff. Proud of you, son.” Monty beamed his approval. He had always liked Tanner. Solid, dependable. Hardworking.

An overall great guy. Someone Monty easily called son as he had while he and Keira were dating. When they got engaged, her parents were thrilled. Part of that happiness was because Monty and Ellen needed some good news in their lives. Their oldest son, Lee, had just been sent to prison, and Keira’s older sister, Heather, had just moved to New York against their wishes. The engagement of a Fortier to a Tanner had been the one bright spot in that horrible year.

Keira’s heart stuttered again.

“So what do we have here?” Monty was saying as he picked up the saddle. “Not this saddle’s first rodeo.”

“I brought it here hoping you could fix it.”

Monty turned the saddle over and smiled. “I made this one,” he said. “For your brother, David.”

“I was just telling Tanner that we don’t have time to work on it,” Keira said, praying again as she caught Tanner’s confused gaze in her peripheral vision.