Betting the Rainbow (Harmony) (21 page)

Chapter 35

NOAH MCALLEN’S RANCH

N
OAH WATCHED CATTLE BEING UNLOADED ONTO HIS LAND.
It felt good. It felt right. A hundred head was just a start on what he needed, but that was all he could handle right now. Between working on the house and mending fences, every muscle in his body hurt, but it was a good kind of ache.

Working for a living was much harder than rodeoing. The heroes are the men who get up and work every day, all day long. Somehow the world got it mixed up. Sitting on a bull for eight seconds is nothing compared to sitting on a horse from sunup to sundown.

Noah loved it, though. The fresh air. The solid sleep from being too tired to think once the lights went out. The cool mornings. The stars. He hadn’t known he’d missed it so until he returned.

Tannon Parker, who owned the trucking company in town, had ridden out with the last shipment to make sure all was running smooth. He and Noah’s father were both in the same business, but they’d always been friendly, even lending each other trucks when a huge job came in.

Tannon jumped down from the truck. “Your dad’s going to be proud of you, Noah. He used to talk about how you wanted this place as soon as you turned eighteen. He said you had big dreams.”

Noah shrugged. “I want to get it up and running before he finds out about what I’m doing. He never cared much about the ranch; it was always the rodeo he loved.”

Tannon nodded. “And you, is it the ranch or the rodeo?”

“It’s the ranch. It always has been. I just lost my way for a while. I love the rodeo, but like Dad finally found out, you can’t build your life on arena dirt.”

Tannon glanced over at the house. “Looks like you’re rebuilding the old place.”

“I’m turning it into a bunkhouse.” Noah didn’t want to tell anyone that he couldn’t stand the thought of living in a home alone. The bunkhouse made more sense. “There’s another house in the north pasture I can stay at for now. It’s small, but it’ll work. All I need is a bed and shower.”

“Someone said you were living in a tent.” Tannon glanced over at the remains of a campsite.

“Yeah, that lasted until it rained.” He guessed everyone in town knew he and Reagan had been dating. Hell, they probably knew she’d kicked him out. It wouldn’t take many brain cells to figure out what the fight had been about the night of the poker game. Half the town was there.

Noah needed to change the subject fast. “I guess Dusti Delaney is getting ready for her big trip. She loved to party in Harmony. No telling what she’ll find to do in Vegas.”

Tannon nodded. He wasn’t a man who gossiped, but he would state the facts now and then. “Everyone is throwing her a farewell party next week. You’re welcome to come. Just bring a six-pack or something you baked and I bet they’ll let you in.”

“I don’t cook,” Noah answered, “and the six-pack will be root beer. I’ve given up drinking.”

Tannon looked serious. “I’m glad to hear that, Noah.” He stepped back on the truck. “Hope to see you there.”

As he drove off, Noah wondered how many people in town thought he had a drinking problem. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but there were a lot of people, like Tannon Parker and Tinch Turner, who’d never offered to buy him a drink. They shook his hand. Told him they were proud for his wins. Tinch had come over to help him get ready for horses, and Tannon probably had more important things to do besides ride out with cows. Yet both men had stopped by. It was like they were welcoming him home, this time for good.

He’d never thought he had a drinking problem, and he wouldn’t blame his troubles now on the bottle. Someone was always waiting at Buffalo’s Bar to buy him a drink. For the first time he thought there might be just as many outside the bar wishing he’d quit. His sister was always threatening him. Hank had told him to grow up. Big Biggs had cussed him out more than once when he carried him out on nights Noah couldn’t walk straight.

The world was a lot more complicated sober. But there was a world out there that he hadn’t paid much attention to until now. A world of neighbors helping each other. A world where a man’s worth was measured by something other than the size of the buckle he won.

By the time he’d taken care of the cattle and paid the men who’d helped, Noah decided working for a living wasn’t as easy as it looked, but he planned to give it his best shot.

After he cooled down and fed his horse, he rode out to the little house that had been built for a foreman’s family forty years ago. It was decorated in abandoned-furniture décor, but livable. The water and fans worked; that was good enough for now. Noah thought he’d probably live at the bunkhouse with the men once it was complete.

Now that the fences were up and cattle coming in, he’d hired out the finishing work on the bunkhouse. Once done, the new part of the building would have an office for him and ten rooms for men upstairs, with kitchen and open area downstairs.

Noah showered and put on clean clothes, then drove over to the Truman place to watch the sunset with his son. At first he’d just used seeing the baby as an excuse to see Reagan, but every time he held Utah, the boy tugged at his heart. As long as she’d let him come over, whether she talked to him or not, he’d keep coming.

When he pulled up, Reagan was already in one of the western chairs, waiting.

He expected her to leave as soon as she handed him Utah, but for the first time she stayed.

Noah didn’t want to push his luck, so he talked to Utah. “We got a hundred head on the old place today,” Noah started. “Tomorrow we’ll brand them and give them their shots. I wish you could see the herd of half-grown cows. Branding is lots of fun and it don’t hurt them. Sure tosses around the cowboys, though. One got hit so hard today that he flipped over like a pancake.”

Noah glanced over to see if Reagan was listening. Dear God, how he missed talking to her. She’d always been the one he could talk to. The one who cared about him.

“Hank says as soon as I get the corrals back in place, he’ll sell me twenty horses. Right now the hands coming in are bringing their own mounts, but a good cowboy needs more than one horse some days. I figure I’ll have at least a dozen good mares that will foal by next spring.”

Reagan finally looked at him. “You know, Noah, he doesn’t understand a word you say.”

“I know, but if you can talk to him about growing apple trees, I can talk about ranching. He’ll need to know ranching someday.”

“What makes you think I talk to him about trees?”

“Joe’s cousin told me. Said Joe and Maria say the last Truman walks around talking to the baby like he needs to know all there is to know about orchards.”

“Joe doesn’t understand half of what I say.”

Noah smiled. “He doesn’t have to understand English to recognize crazy.”

She rolled her eyes, but he thought he saw the hint of a smile.

“Utah’s asleep,” Noah said. “You want me to carry him in?”

He expected her to say no. Every night he’d come, she’d made him hand her the baby at the door. Only this time she just nodded and walked ahead of him so she could hold the screen door open.

Noah carried the baby slowly up the stairs and into her room. He knew, without asking, that the crib would be next to her bed.

Just before he laid Utah down, he kissed him on the forehead. At first he’d come to see the baby because he knew it was the right thing to do, but now, Noah realized it was more than that.

For a long while he just stared down at Utah. In this little baby lay his future. Reagan had been right to say she’d take the baby if Noah couldn’t. She’d understood, even before he did, that they were the kid’s only chance.

When he stepped back, she moved forward to straighten Utah’s blanket and noticed the red stain on the blanket’s blue corner.

“Blood!” She whispered the word, but her voice shook with panic.

Noah looked down at his hands. “Rea, it’s not the baby. Don’t worry. It’s me. It’s not the baby.”

She looked back as he raised his palm. “I lost one of my gloves this afternoon. The work was rough and I got a few nicks. I thought the bleeding had stopped. I wouldn’t have held the baby if I thought I’d get it on him.”

Rea frowned. “The baby is fine. Go wash up in the bathroom before you bleed all over the rug.”

He nodded and headed to the bathroom. He’d stayed with her enough to know where everything was. As he washed his hands, he thought about how little time she’d spent worrying about him. If he cut off his own head she’d probably just complain about having to clean up the mess.

At least she’d worried about Utah. Rea would be good for the baby. She’d love him even if she no longer loved Noah.

When he got back downstairs, Reagan was in the kitchen. She didn’t even look up when he walked to the doorway.

“Thank you,” he said simply.

“For what?”

“For loving him first. If you hadn’t taken him in that day, he might have been dropped off somewhere and I might not have ever found him. Or worse, gone home with a mother who didn’t want him and a stepfather who hated him.”

“You’re welcome, but I didn’t do it for you.”

“I know.” He turned to leave.

“You want some soup?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“You offering to feed me?”

“I might as well. You’re getting thinner by the day. If you don’t have Band-Aids at your place, you probably don’t have food.”

“You got that right. If I kept any around, the field mice, who sublet my place, would eat it while I’m working. If you got plenty, I wouldn’t turn down a bowl.”

“Fine, but we’re not together. I’m just offering supper.”

He understood. Moving around her was like walking on a glass memory. All the old feelings were there, but they were covered by thin glass that might shatter with one wrong word.

They ate at the bar in the kitchen. Soup and cornbread. She didn’t offer dessert. He didn’t ask.

He thanked her and offered to help with the dishes.

She said, “No thanks,” as she walked him to the door.

Noah drove off smiling. Hope, he thought. For the first time since he’d come home, he had hope. She wasn’t friendly, but apparently she was over wishing him dead. That seemed a step up.

The next night, he stopped by and brought malts when he came to watch the sunset.

She wasn’t much more friendly, but she did look at him. The hurt was still in her eyes. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was again, and again and again, but he knew it wouldn’t matter. Sorry wasn’t enough.

He wanted to touch her. Just hold her and whisper how she was his world, but she wouldn’t listen.

They sat in the yard chairs long after sunset with a sleeping Utah on Noah’s shoulder. Neither seemed to want this time to end.

When he finally went upstairs to put the baby down, Reagan was waiting at the door when he returned. She didn’t offer supper.

He stepped out on the porch and turned toward her. Before she could close the door, he said what he had to say, “I still love you, Rea, more than ever. If you want it like this between us, then that’s the way it will be, but I’m never lying to you again.”

The door closing was her only answer. She’d pushed it shut softly, but it might as well have been made of iron.

As he walked away, he could hear her crying. The sound twisted his heart. She was still hurting. His Rea was crumbling and he couldn’t reach her. He knew she was only on the other side of the door but it might as well have been a hundred miles away.

Ten minutes later Noah was in the parking lot of Buffalo’s Bar and Grill. Only a few cars were there, probably folks having supper, not customers coming to drink.

For a long time he just sat in his pickup and stared. He’d medicated his pain, both physical and mental, for so long with alcohol, he wasn’t sure how to stop. All he knew was that he wanted to stop the hurting between them and he couldn’t. He had no idea how to fix what he’d broken.

Half an hour passed before he saw Big Biggs walk out of the bar. He had his arm around a very tall woman and they were laughing. Rea had told Noah all about Ester, Big’s girl. She was even prettier and taller than he thought. Crazy thing was, she seemed to like the bull of a man beside her.

Noah climbed out of the truck. “Biggs!” he yelled.

The big guy turned, bracing for a fight. “What do you want, Preacher?”

Noah advanced a few feet. “I want to say I’m sorry about the other night. You had every right doing what you did. I’m a damned idiot.”

“You’ll get no argument from me. You’ve been an idiot pretty much since you went pro. It must come with the buckles you win. They’re so heavy they cut off the oxygen to your brain.”

Noah didn’t laugh. “I just wanted you to know. I’m sorry.”

“Okay, you’re sorry, now good night. I got better things to do than talk to idiots in parking lots.” Big turned to leave.

“I come to ask a favor,” Noah shouted.

Big huffed. “I’m not interested in doing you any favors. Go back to your friends on the road.”

“You’ll like this one.” Noah moved within striking distance. “I want you to hit me again. Real hard.”

Big smiled like he’d just found out it was half-price night at the steakhouse. “That I can do.”