Chapter Eight
“Congratulations on your marriage,” Roddy told Hayden later that morning as they drove through the gates of the Willow Creek Ranch. “Didn’t even know you were dating.”
“Surprised you, did I?” Hayden drove over a rise and glanced about the ranch, wishing he’d had the right to kiss Evie goodbye this morning. Seemed wrong to leave her like that, even if their marriage wasn’t real.
The Willow Creek property used to be a horse-breeding operation before Hayden’s grandfather purchased it.
It was a fairly flat spread, far enough away from the mountains bordering the valley that its pastures were relatively free of rocky outcroppings.
Even before Hayden pulled into the ranch yard, he could see right away that the house and outbuildings needed attention.
“I expect you’ll be having a shindig to celebrate when your brothers get back,” Roddy went on, bringing Hayden back to the present. “Sure will be nice to have young’uns at the ranch again.”
“Nice?” Hayden scoffed. “Roddy, you used to say my brothers and me tried your patience.”
“That’s true too.” The old man chuckled. “But it’s been way too quiet around here since you boys bolted off.”
“I suppose that’s fair.” Hayden slowed as they entered the ranch yard.
The two men fell silent as they unloaded the saddled horses and then rode into the nearest pasture, one of many on the property.
“Roddy, we’re only supposed to have a hundred head on this ranch.” By Hayden’s estimation, there were about twenty more cows than that in this pasture alone.
“Clyde and me moved more heifers out here last year.” Roddy sounded as if he hadn’t approved. The short, wiry old cowboy glanced around. “Looks like we’ve got some calves.”
Not nearly as many as the size of the herd would suggest. Had the heifers aged out? Was poor nutrition impacting fertility? Hayden didn’t know.
“Why wasn’t that move marked in the ledger?” Hayden’s gelding tossed his head. The big chestnut wanted to run. Hayden sat back in the saddle, reins firm. “Easy, Red.”
“Clyde was old-school.” Roddy shrugged his bent shoulders. “If he had time to make a record, he made a record. And if not…”
Hayden groaned. “And if not, he ensured my job figuring things out would be torture.”
“He didn’t do it on purpose.” Roddy was always quick to defend Grandpa.
“Then why did he do it?” Hayden wondered aloud.
“He was tired after you boys left.” Roddy shielded his eyes from the sun, looking eastward. “He let things go.”
Hayden spotted a bull pawing the ground nearby, one that looked younger than any bull on the ledger and cranky enough to be a caution.
“It’ll take days to match each cow to their paperwork.
” He needed certified cattle for the next big livestock auction a few weeks away.
And there were still the other ranches to cover.
Grandpa had purchased property all over the valley.
“If I were in your boots, I’d just start over with a fresh list.” Roddy leaned on his saddle horn. “What’s here is here. Make a list of ’em. We need to tag this year’s calves. Separate the young bulls from the herd. Decide which to keep.”
It was as good an idea as any.
“Okay, Roddy. I’m on board. Let’s move the bulls into one pasture and the cows into the other.”
And start from square one.
*
Later that afternoon, Eve finished reading several case studies involving orthopedic care and closed her textbook with a satisfied sigh.
When she’d first studied nursing ten years ago, it had been sink or swim. Every topic, every clinical application, and every dosing procedure had been new. The terminology had been daunting. Now, Eve had the field experience and vocabulary to absorb the material and more easily put it into context.
She climbed out of the corner of the couch and stretched, still thinking about the material she’d been reading until she realized…
The house was too quiet.
“Katie? Irene?” While she’d begun studying, they’d been chattering like magpies at the kitchen table, stirring up cake batter.
She hurried to the kitchen. It was empty.
The cake was in the oven, and the timer was about to go off.
She shut off the timer and removed the cake from the oven.
“Katie? Irene?” Her call was more urgent now, sharpened by worry and guilt.
They’re in my charge.
Eve opened the back door, looking toward the henhouse. Gertie stopped pecking to stare at Eve. No old woman or young girl was in sight. Eve’s pulse began to race. She shouldn’t have left Irene and Katie alone.
Where are they?
Eve hurried back inside and to the front door. She opened it and glanced around the small strip of lawn, the circular gravel drive where she’d parked her car, the storage buildings, the barn and paddock. But she didn’t see any small child or elderly sprite. “Katie? Irene?”
Again, no answer.
Did they go riding?
She backtracked to the foyer and quickly put on her tennis shoes. And then she ran to the barn, calling their names, “Katie! Irene!”
“Mama!”
A horse walked out of the open barn doors.
Eve stopped in her tracks. Her daughter and Hayden’s grandmother rode atop Nugget without saddle or reins or safety helmets. She held her breath.
“Mama, Nugget is my new best friend.” Katie’s bright smile reflected the joyous tenor of her words, a joy that didn’t mirror the fear in Eve’s heart.
No saddle. No reins. No safety gear. No control if the horse misbehaves.
Eve cautioned herself to stay calm.
“We’re fine,” Irene said in a reassuring voice. She had one arm around Katie’s waist and the other hand in Nugget’s mane.
Eve wasn’t consoled.
Nugget caught sight of her and began to walk faster, quickly closing the distance between them.
That palomino strutted right up to Eve and nudged her shoulder as if they were besties, knocking Eve back a step.
But Nugget didn’t stop there. He stuck his nose on Eve’s chest, snuffling her blouse like an overly friendly Labrador.
And that’s what helped Eve overcome her hesitation with the huge animal. “Nugget,” she chastised, placing her hands on either side of the horse’s nose and pushing him back. “Behave.”
Nugget nickered softly, almost apologetically, staring at Eve with adorable big brown eyes.
“Well, I’ll be,” Irene said in amazement, tipping her cowboy hat back. “You don’t look like a cowgirl. But you must be if you’re here.” She gave Eve a confused look. “Remind me of your name again.”
“I’m Eve, Hayden’s wife.” She raised her arms toward Katie, stepping around the horse’s head. “I need you both to get down.”
Nugget backed up and rubbed his cheek against Eve’s shoulder, as gentle as a house cat. But he blocked her path to her charges.
“He likes you, Mama.” Katie held fistfuls of the palomino’s pale mane and looked as comfortable as could be atop the horse. She’d changed out of her yellow princess dress and into a white T-shirt and red fringed leggings. “We’re gonna make great cowgirls.”
“But not today.” The drain of adrenaline after realizing the pair on horseback had disappeared was making Eve’s legs unsteady. “Please get down, ladies. I took your cake out of the oven. By the time you get cleaned up, it’ll be ready to frost. And then I’ll need to start dinner.”
“You had me at cake.” Irene swung her leg over Nugget’s backside and then dropped to the ground, as nimble as a woman half her age.
Eve darted past Nugget’s neck and grabbed hold of Irene’s arm anyway.
She’d had patients look steady and still manage to fall.
Only when she was certain the old woman was going to stay upright did she reach for Katie, lowering her safely to the ground.
“From now on, you have to tell me anytime you step out of the house, Katie. Promise?”
“But…” Katie dragged her sneakered toe in the dirt. “I was with Gran. Tell Mama we were okay, Gran.”
Irene stared at them blankly. “Who are you? And why is Nugget out of his stall?”
Eve patiently repeated her now-rote introduction and helped Irene put her horse back in the barn.
*
After dinner, Hayden sat on a rocker on the front porch, the list of stock he’d made from Willow Creek in one hand, a master list of all registered stock in the other.
But it was the view of the pastures that drew his eye, a view that sparked memories. It was April and the green grass was just beginning to give way to yellow brown. Back in the day, Hayden and his brothers would ride through those pastures, no matter the season.
They’d race horses, try to play polo with a soccer ball and Grandpa’s golf clubs, or joust with pool noodles.
And Grandpa? Sometimes he’d join them in their antics.
Sometimes he’d watch, leaning on the pasture gate.
It was hard to reconcile that caring man with the volatile firecracker he’d become ten years ago.
I can’t abide you being here anymore. You’ve all got to go!
Those had been Grandpa’s words when he’d told the three Bennett brothers still working at the main ranch—Hayden, Rhett, and Sawyer—that they needed to find employment elsewhere.
That he had everything under control without them, despite Gran arguing otherwise.
It’s what made it challenging to return to the three-ring circus—debt, disorganization, decay—Grandpa had left behind.
He needed us.
Hayden’s guilt over leaving was a palpable thing, a hard lump in his throat. Even if Gran hadn’t called him back sooner.
Evie stepped out onto the porch, a medical textbook under her arm. No scrubs for her today. She wore a flowing green blouse over her blue jeans. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were out here. I’ll study inside. I’ve got a study partner meeting me for an hour after work tomorrow.”
“No. Stay.” Just seeing her pretty face sent the bad memories back where they belonged. How odd that was. How…refreshing. Hayden smiled. “I’m trying to reconcile the stock records my grandfather made to the stock counts I’ve recorded. You do your thing and I’ll do mine.”