Once and Always (Women of Character)

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Questor Books, P.O. Box 100, East
Jewett, New York, 12424  USA

About Once and Always 

Anna has endured emotional and
physical tragedy and is barely hanging on to the once successful Barlow horse
ranch. Leading a reclusive life after the fire that subsequently scarred her
face and robbed her of her livelihood as a champion barrel racer, she is on the
verge of bankruptcy. In a bid to save her ranch she offers it for lease, but
never expected to have Tyler, the man she once loved as a girl, show up on her
doorstep. Buried anger and betrayal surface for both Anna and Tyler, but she's
out of options and her back is against the wall.

Can they go back to the love they
once knew....do they even want to go back?

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Echoes from the Past

Heartstealer

Wishing on a Rodeo Moon

Deception

Two Babies, a Cowboy and Sara

Once Upon a Remembrance

Soulmates Through Time

Treasure So Rare

Memory could be gentle
.
At other times it left scars.

Anna Barlow had read those words
this morning and somehow they felt like a reflection of her life. She stared
out over her ranch's fields now, trying to shake off the cobwebs of old
memories.

Newly warmed earth and northeast
temperatures collided, creating ground vapor as the sun fought its way through
heavy clouds. She shivered, brushing at the cool morning mist that settled in
her hair. Her mare stood unmoving beneath her, her nostrils blowing gently from
their run. Anna patted Spirit's neck, wishing she could forget she was barely
hanging onto the ranch. . . her home.

Every tree, stick and grain of
dirt of the Double B Ranch belonged to her. The barns and dilapidated fences .
. . the makeshift corral.  She couldn't walk away from her only real home. Her
grandfather Martin Barlow had brought her here at the age of fourteen. Now,
everyone she'd ever loved was gone. Martin. Tyler.

Restlessly, Anna nudged her gray
mare toward a well-worn dirt path that led down to the barns and house.

She'd survived worse. Somehow,
she'd get through this too. Anna touched her right cheek and curled her fingers
against the scarred flesh, her fingers tracing the faint ridges almost
absentmindedly. Her face had once been her biggest asset. Now it brought her
only anger and at times self pity. She hated feeling sorry for herself, but God
Almighty she was only human.

Giving in to a reckless edge of
emotion, Anna urged her mare into a bone-jarring trot down the hillside. When
they reached level ground, the spring wind tore against her as they loped
across open pasture. She inhaled the clean air into her lungs, reveling in the
familiar thunder of hooves beneath her. Gradually, the sting of failure
lessened. Self-absorbed and prideful these last two years, she'd allowed the
fire that ruined her face to take over her life.

She had to live with her mistakes,
but somehow she'd find a way out of this mess.

Ω

Tyler Stanton jerked his collar up
against the morning chill. The Barlow's Double B Ranch looked the same, yet
subtle changes had dimmed its splendor in the six years since he'd been gone.
The grounds were unkempt, the buildings in disrepair and the horse barns, once
full and so proudly outlined by the Catskill mountains around them, were badly
in need of work. He walked through the dusty paddock area and entered the empty
barn, memories unexpectedly twisting his guts into knots. Long rides and
midnight rendezvous' swam through his mind, the images like a reel of film
playing in his brain.

He thought of Annie, the intensity
of their love and then the ultimate deterioration of everything in his life,
taking her love with it. Her big eyes were there, filled with fierce
determination before a barrel competition, softened in love play, their
conversations by turn razor sharp and playfully innocent. He and Annie had been
buddies, friends, and for a few intense weeks, lovers. Then it had all gone
sour. She'd chosen to stay with an ill-tempered old man and had done nothing
when Tyler was run out of town. He had never figured that one out; sweet,
loving Annie, letting him take a fall. He looked up at the sky, deliberately
easing the tension in his shoulders. How had he thought her sweet?

He wondered how Annie would feel
if he told her she'd be a rich woman if she'd left with him that night long
ago. Instead, the years had been tough on her and by all accounts she was
losing everything.

Tyler exited the barn, his boots
scuffing up bits of old hay and gravel. Hearing the sound of a fast approaching
horse, he walked outside and around the side of the barn toward the open
pasture. Hooves beat the ground in a flat out run. A horse and rider appeared,
galloping hell-for-leather through the soft mist clinging to the grass.
Recognition slammed him. He'd never forget that intensity of control, Annie's
fit and trim body, hair the deep color of dark chestnut out behind her. Tyler
couldn't take his eyes off Annie. He admired the pure symmetry between horse
and rider as they skimmed the ground. He was reminded of the skill that had
made her a champion barrel racer.

Tyler's heart hammered. How he
loved the beauty of running horses. There was nothing like it, especially on a
dead quiet morning. He tried to tell himself it had nothing at all to do with
seeing Annie again after six long years.

He'd thought he was prepared for
this meeting with her. Instead, he resented that he felt sucker-punched.
Christ, it seemed like only yesterday he'd chased her across this very field on
horseback. When he'd caught her and pulled her from her horse, it was as if
they couldn't get enough of each other. They'd made love under the hot sun, the
grass cushioning their bodies. Six years ago time had been meaningless to them.

As he watched, Annie wheeled the
wiry gray horse around a lone barrel in the pasture, then urged the animal into
a ground-eating lope in his direction. Tyler stood still as a gust of wind
lifted his hat from his head, tossing it like a challenge onto the grass.

Annie drew closer. Three yards
away her horse's hindquarters dipped and rear hooves slid, digging up clods of
grass and dirt. The gray's front legs were almost straight as she came to a
stop, narrowly missing Tyler's hat. Tyler ran an expert glance over the
animal's flexing muscles. Annie maintained only light contact with the horse's
mouth. He almost smiled.

"Tyler!"

Dust swirled around them. Bending,
Tyler retrieved his hat and slapped it against his leg, then stared at the new
crease along the hat brim. "Still the same old Annie. Bouncing your horse
around to get attention."

"Same old Tyler, too,"
she came back. "Smart remarks and all." She sat stiffly, staring away
from him. Her rigid shoulders told him he wasn't the only one being poked by
memory shards. "You're the last person I expected to see."

She didn't look at him, but kept
her upper body half-turned in the saddle. Dark shoulder length hair swung past
her cheek, hiding part of her face. The back of his legs stiffened and Tyler
stifled an urge to move closer. She was thin, almost too thin.

"Nice horse. Pretty
magnificent riding across the flat like that."

"Didn't know I had an
audience."

Annie's horse tossed its head, the
jangle of the bit the lone sound as she brushed long elegant fingers over the
animal's withers. Tyler found he could breathe again, hadn't even realized he'd
been holding his breath.

"Can't you look at me,
Annie?" It grated on him that it bothered him so much. He smiled grimly.
He could wait, he had plenty of time.

The sun suddenly shot out from
behind a cloud. Annie turned to shield her eyes from the glare. The light,
bright and unforgiving, shockingly outlined the scars marring the entire right
side of her face. Her skin, once flawless, was now mottled and discolored, the
flesh a mix of uneven red and white patches that ran like licking flames right
to the corner of her mouth.

"Annie!" Tyler knew
shock laced his voice. Pain split him in half, shooting to his toes and jetting
back up to his brain. His legs trembled where they'd been stiff a moment
before.

She jerked her head back and if
possible, her face turned even whiter except for the scars, and her eyes. . .
her eyes were a deep, wounded green.

"I prefer Anna," she
said tersely, now looking at him. "I didn't expect to see anyone or I'd
have put on my concealing makeup and spared you seeing this. People don't
usually come around unless calling first."

Tyler pressed a fist against his
hip. It wasn't the first time he'd seen such terrible scarring. But it was the
first time he'd seen it marring Annie's face. She'd always taken pride in her
looks, her skin and makeup. She'd hated being teased about her facials and hair
appointments.

"Now that we have that out of
the way―" hostility cracked in Annie's voice.

"How did it happen?" His
voice sounded grating, even to himself. Inside, he was gasping for air.

She seemed to move back, even by
the slightest fraction.

"Why are you here?" she
asked.

Tyler shoved back the sympathy for
what she must have suffered. It was obvious she didn't want it.  He'd figure
that part out when he was alone, the ache in his gut. "I guess you never
expected to see me again."

She turned just enough to conceal
the scarring, but he saw the tremble of her fingers on the reins.

"I'm sorry that Martin
died," he said gruffly. "No matter what had happened between us, I
know how much you cared about him." He stepped back and cleared his
throat. "I saw your ad in the horse quarterly." He was used to
dealing with people, but now he felt momentarily at a loss, too aware of her
watchful eye. He felt a curious empathy, but he didn't want to feel even that
slight connection to her.

She pulled at the frayed material
of her jeans while a light breeze played at the edge of her faded shirt.
"If you saw the ad then you know the ranch is up for lease."

"There's no sense in beating
around the bush. I want to buy it."