Love Without End (10 page)

She supposed he was right. Tara wasn’t a little child.

“Sorry,” he said. “None of my business. But when you live on a ranch, the natural order of things is something you learn early on. Tara’s more ready than you think she is.”

“I know. I can be overprotective sometimes.”

“I guess you’ve got a right to be, after all that’s happened to the two of you.”

She winced, realizing how much he must know about her personal affairs. “I take it Tara’s told you about her father and how bad things got after he died.”

“Yeah. She told me a little.”

A little? She knew Tara better than that.

“Look, Kimberly. I wasn’t trying to pry. I promise.”

She released a humorless laugh. “I know you weren’t. Tara doesn’t filter her thoughts much. Not when she’s comfortable with someone.” She looked at Chet again. “She feels at ease around you. She feels at ease with everybody at the ranch.”

“That’s good to hear.” He smiled, kindness in his eyes. “I wasn’t sure how she and I would get along at first. I’m used to dealing with boys. Never have spent a lot of time with girls.” He paused on a sigh. “Maybe that’s why I’m divorced. Maybe I still don’t understand girls.”

His last comment raised a number of questions in Kimberly’s mind. She knew far less about him than he knew about her. At least when it came to his failed marriage and ex-wife. Perhaps she might learn more if she asked a question or two. But something in his expression stopped her. Something told her talking about it still caused him pain.

She understood only too well.

I
T
HAD BEEN A STRANGE IMPULSE
,
TAKING
K
IMBERLY
’
S
sacks of groceries and then offering to escort her home. Chet wasn’t sure why he’d done it. For the same reason he’d agreed to work with Tara and her horse, he supposed. Couldn’t help himself. Chet to the rescue. It was a character trait he wished he could change. Not everybody needed or wanted to be rescued, not even when they looked or sounded like they did. Marsha hadn’t. That was for certain. His ex-wife had wanted to lead her own life and make her own decisions, far away from him. Without having to report to anyone.

Report to anyone
.

Those words had stung. They still did.

He’d thought they had a partnership. He’d thought they were each one-half of a whole. He’d thought they were able to tell each other anything and everything. He’d thought they were married for life.

Which just went to prove his point. He’d thought wrong. Again.

“Chet.”

Kimberly stopped walking, and Chet was pulled back to the present.

She held out her arms. “I can take those now. We’re here. You needn’t come any farther.”

See, Kimberly Welch didn’t want to be rescued either. He thought he was doing the polite thing, and she thought he was intruding on her personal space. Couldn’t be more clear about it. He passed the two sacks into her waiting arms.

“Thanks for your help.” She took a step back from him.

He wondered if she meant it. “Glad to do it.” Now he wondered if he meant it.

“I’ll tell Tara about the foals. She’ll be eager to see them tomorrow.”

He nodded and gave his hat brim a tug, then turned and headed back toward the center of town, ready to get home, whatever had brought him to the grocery store in the first place forgotten.

K
IMBERLY
RAPPED ON THE DOOR TO
T
ARA
’
S
ROOM
, then opened it when she didn’t answer. Her daughter was lying on her stomach on the bed, holding a book out in front of her with both hands as she read.

“Homework?” Kimberly asked.

Tara shook her head as she turned the cover of the book so her mother could see it.

Of course. A book about horses. What else?

Kimberly entered the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “I saw Mr. Leonard a little bit ago. He said to tell you the two new foals were born.”

“They were? Both of them?” Tara sat up. “Wish I’d been there.”

“You’ll see them tomorrow.”

“This book has pictures of a foal being delivered.” She flipped quickly through the pages, stopping when she found what she wanted. “It says a foal will normally stand within the first hour and can trot and canter that very first day. Cool, huh?”

“Very cool.”

“Kinda makes me wish Wind Dancer was a mare so we could have a colt one day.”

Kimberly reached out and pushed Tara’s dark hair back from her face. “You’d best be happy with the one horse you’ve got.” Silently she added,
We couldn’t even afford him if not for Chet Leonard’s generosity.

The thought brought his image back to mind, and her heart did a small, unexpected flutter. He was so old-school polite around her. The code of a cowboy, perhaps. And truth be told, she was beginning to find that code rather attractive.

Eleven

S
AM
’
S
VOICE RANG ACROSS THE BARNYARD
. “H
EY
, D
AD
!”

Chet turned his attention from Tara and the sorrel mare she was saddling. “What?”

“You’re wanted on the phone.”

“Who is it?”

“He didn’t say. Just says it’s important he talk to you.”

“I’ll be right there.” He looked at Tara. “You wait for me to get back before you mount up.”

The girl made a soft sound of impatience, but didn’t voice her objection.

Chet took off for the house. Once inside, he bumped his hat back on his forehead with his knuckles and picked up the handset of the kitchen telephone. “Hello.”

“Mr. Leonard? Scott Webb here.”

Scott Webb. A trainer from over in Payette, a town near the Idaho-Oregon border. A man looking to buy several new horses from the Leonards. “Afternoon, Mr. Webb.”

“I’m afraid I have some bad news. I won’t be able to make it up to see your horses tomorrow.”

“Not a problem.” Even as he spoke, he felt a premonition that it might be a problem. “When will you be able to come?”

“Doesn’t look like I’ll be buying any new stock this year. My wife’s got some health issues and has taken an unexpected turn for the worse. The medical expenses will have to be paid before I can consider any new horses. That could be awhile.”

Chet sank onto a tall kitchen stool, disappointment sharp in his chest. “I’m sorry to hear your wife’s ill. Hope she makes a quick recovery.”

“Thanks. And I’m real sorry about not getting those horses.”

“It’s all right. Appreciate the call. And you come when you’re able. Might not have the same horses you were looking at, but there are always others.”

After they both said good-bye, Chet punched the Off button and put the handset in its charger. He rubbed his forehead with his fingertips, as if trying to erase the sudden worry. He’d counted on that sale to improve his cash flow. He could usually tell, even over the phone, when someone was just looking and when they were ready to buy. The website he’d had designed by Allison Kavanagh made him even more accurate in his assessments, because folks came to the Leonard ranch already knowing what horse or horses they wanted to see. And Scott Webb had been ready to buy some prime stock.

But no one could know the future. Illness or tragedy could strike anybody at any time. As much as he felt the loss to his bottom line, Chet wasn’t devoid of empathy for whatever the Webbs were facing.

He started toward his office on the lower level of the house, then remembered Tara was waiting for him to continue her riding lesson. Not exactly what he wanted to do at the moment, but out the door he went. First thing he saw was Pete sitting on the corral fence, talking to Tara. He wasn’t surprised to see him there. The boy’s crush on the girl had been growing more and more obvious by the day. Anybody could see it—except Tara herself, that was. All she seemed to notice were the horses. Chet preferred it to stay that way.

“Sorry about the interruption,” he said when he reached the corral. “Have you got the mare ready to go?”

“Yes,” Tara answered.

Chet went into the corral and checked the cinch and saddle. “Good job.”

“Hey, Dad.” Pete hopped down from the fence. “Care if I saddle up and come with you?”

“Suppose not. We aren’t doing much today. Just getting Tara beyond the paddocks for a change. Thought we’d head up by the creek.”

“Great. I’ll be ready in no time.” Pete left the corral and disappeared moments later into the barn.

The boy was as good as his word, and soon they were all mounted on horses and riding away from the barnyard.

T
ARA
WAS NOWHERE IN SIGHT WHEN
K
IMBERLY
arrived at the Leonard ranch a little before 5:30 on Tuesday evening. Usually, the girl was brushing her horse when Kimberly got there. But not today.

She parked the car in the usual spot, then walked to the
barn and looked inside. “Hello?” she called into the darker recesses.

Nobody answered.

She turned around. Chet’s black pickup truck was there. So was the truck his sons used and two more besides. She was trying to decide where to look next for her daughter—at the main house or in the guest cottage?—when two men rode into view through a copse of trees beyond some outbuildings. She didn’t recognize them. When they noticed her, they slowed their mounts from a trot to a walk. Kimberly took a couple of steps back as the horses got closer, nerves erupting in her belly.

“Howdy,” the one with the dark hair said. “You must be Tara’s mother.”

“Yes.”

“Blake Buttons, ma’am. Pleased to meet you.”

She offered a quick smile, wanting to move farther away from the large, sweaty animals but not wanting to be rude to their riders. “Hello.”

“Me and Denny saw Tara ridin’ with Chet and Pete about an hour or so ago. Up above the north pastures there. I reckon they’re on their way back by now, but I wouldn’t expect ’em any too soon.”

The blond-haired cowboy—Denny, she assumed—slipped from the saddle. “Might as well make yourself comfortable, ma’am.” He jerked his head toward the house. “Ms. McKenna’s inside. She’s sure to like your company.”

“Thank you. I’ll go see her.”

But before she could move, she saw Anna walking in their direction. The elderly woman wore jeans, boots, and a bright
green western shirt. Her dyed red hair was worn in a ponytail. She looked and moved like someone thirty years her junior.

“You must be early,” Anna said.

“A little.”

“While you wait, let me show you our new additions.”

The ranch hands touched their hat brims, bid her a good day, and led their horses away.

“Come with me.” Anna took Kimberly by the arm, a gesture of friendship rather than an older person needing help. “The foals were born on Sunday a couple of hours apart. One of them is the spitting image of Shiloh’s Star when he was a colt. The other is going to be a blue dun.”

Kimberly didn’t bother to say she had no clue what any of that meant.

They moved through one end of the barn and out the other. The mares and foals were in two nearby paddocks. The babies, now about forty-eight hours old, moved around on their gangly legs with surprising agility, although they didn’t go too far afield from their mothers.

“Aren’t they the prettiest creatures God ever made?”

The wonder and excitement in the elderly woman’s voice was so much like Tara’s that Kimberly had to smile. “Tara must have been beside herself when she saw them.”

“She surely was.”

“When she isn’t here at the ranch, she’s reading books from the library about horses. I wish she was as eager to learn history or geometry or English lit.”

“Are you learning about horses along with her?”

“A little. But I might as well ask a dumb question. What’s a blue dun?”

Anna laughed. “Abe always said there was no such thing as a dumb question, and I agree. Basically the blue comes from a black horse with cream-colored genetics. It gives the horse a grayish coat with darker gray markings. And a dun has a dorsal stripe, which runs from withers to croup.” She pointed. “See it there?”

Kimberly nodded.

“Maybe you’ll think twice about those riding lessons we offered to give you. The offer still stands.”

“I’ll pass, Anna. Thanks anyway.”

There was a merry twinkle in Anna McKenna’s eyes. “But be warned. I intend to conspire with your daughter to change your mind.”

Kimberly didn’t doubt for a moment that they would try. But there was no way on earth she would ever agree to it. No matter what.

Anna

1945

M
UFFLED MOANS AWAKENED
A
NNA BEFORE DAWN ON
the Fourth of July. Barefoot, she went to the bedroom at the opposite end of the hall and tapped on the door. “Abe?”

The door jerked open a few moments later. Perspiration beaded Abe’s forehead, and his eyes were filled with concern.

“Is it Violet?” Anna asked, although she knew the answer. “What can I do to help?”

“We need Minnie York to come right away. I don’t think this baby’s going to take long, no matter what they told us to expect. Can you ride over to the York farm and get her? The telephone isn’t working. I tried about an hour ago.”

“I’ll get dressed and go right now.” Anna spun away and ran to her room. She dressed in a hurry and tied her hair back with a ribbon without bothering to run a brush through the tangled curls. Then she was down the stairs, out the door, and into the barn where she saddled Shiloh’s Star and rode away from the yard as dawn became a pale promise in the east.

According to what Violet had told Anna a few weeks before, Minnie York had delivered most of the babies in Kings Meadow for the last twenty years. Certainly the experienced midwife had delivered more babies than the young physician, David Chapman, who’d opened his practice in the valley this past spring. Luckily for Anna, the York farm butted up against the Leonards’ east pastureland. It didn’t take Shiloh’s Star long to carry her there.

Almost as if she’d been anticipating Anna’s arrival, Minnie York opened the door with her leather bag already in hand. “Is it time?”