Chapter 12 #4
“You’ll see.” He reached for her hand, clasped it within his own, and led her from his office. She could feel the warmth and strength in that simple touch. “And wear something you can ride in. If I’m not mistaken, you packed a split skirt.”
“I did.”
He gave her hand a squeeze, then let go. “I’ll be waiting outside.”
Sheridan watched him leave the house, then rushed upstairs to change, happiness making her heart light.
Wyatt finished saddling Goldie and led her toward the front porch.
He tied her reins to the railing, then looked toward the door, waiting for Sheridan.
It wasn’t long before the door opened and she walked out to the porch, looking more beautiful than ever in her split skirt and matching vest. If the truth were told, though, he much preferred to see her in her burgundy robe, her hair plaited in that long braid that lay over her shoulder.
“Where are we going?”
He held out his hand. “I told you I want to show you something.”
“Won’t you tell me what it is?”
“You’ll just have to wait.” He helped her mount, placed the reins in her hands and squeezed before he climbed into Brigadier’s saddle. “Ready?”
She gave him a quick nod, then kneed Goldie and rode past the barn into the field. He followed, quickly catching up to her. “Everything is really greening up. It’s more beautiful than before.”
He took a moment to look toward the horizon and see what she saw—the grass carpeting the landscape with every shade of green he could imagine. “It was a long, cold winter, but spring is truly here.”
“It’s my favorite time of year. A time for new beginnings.”
“I agree. It’s mine as well.”
“What is it you want to show me?”
He smiled. He couldn’t help it. “It’s just over the next rise. Be patient.”
He moved Brigadier closer to her then reached out his hand. She placed hers in his as they nudged their horses forward and over the ridge. “Look.”
A little calf, just hours old, stumbled after its mother, its plaintive lowing heard clearly over the birdsong and the other cattle in the field.
“She’s beautiful.”
“She’s the first one born this season. And she’s healthy.
Just look at her.” Pride filled his chest that he could share this with her and that she seemed to appreciate it.
After three years of barely making ends meet, this was the beginning he was looking forward to. And she was by his side to witness it.
He loved this, seeing the animation on her face, seeing the flash of pride in her eyes, and he was stunned to realize that he wanted to see this every day, not just for the time her folks were here.
Damn if Lucy wasn’t right. He was in love with Sheridan DuBois and it hadn’t hit him like a shovel to the back of the head like he thought it would.
No thunderbolts. No lightning. The realization was more subtle and sweeter than he could have possibly imagined.
He felt lighter and freer than he had in years.
It was as if the chains of pain Katie had wrapped around his heart when she betrayed him had broken. No, not broken. Shattered.
He glanced in Sheridan’s direction as she watched the calf gambol after its mother, looking for milk.
He should tell her how he felt. Maybe she felt the same.
But then again, he’d given his heart once before and it hadn’t worked out well.
The pain of standing in the church, surrounded by friends and family, yet alone, struck him like that thunderbolt he’d been waiting for.
No, he couldn’t tell Sheridan. Not yet. Not until he knew if she felt the same. He’d made that mistake before. He wasn’t willing to do it again.
“Wyatt!” He heard his name called and turned his head in time to see Ken riding toward them with a sense of urgency. Immediately, he straightened in the saddle.
The man was breathless when he reached them. He gave a slight nod toward Sheridan, then focused his attention on Wyatt. It was trouble. What kind of trouble remained to be seen.
“We got a problem.”
Immediately, he thought of the myriad of issues that had plagued Stone Creek within the past couple of years—windmills not pumping water, a good horse stepping into a gopher hole and breaking her leg, forcing him to make the most humane decision he could for that animal, calves that weren’t strong enough to survive, mothers not able to deliver safely.
His main concern, though, was for the people. “Is Hank hurt? Royce?”
“Hank is fine. Royce, too. No, sir, we got a cow in labor and she’s struggling. Struggling bad.”
Wyatt understood the urgency. He turned toward Sheridan, hating the fact that he had to end their afternoon, but he had a duty to this ranch, the people who worked it, and the animals he raised. “I have to go. Do you know your way back to the house?”
Disappointment shadowed her eyes, mirroring his own, but she understood. “Yes, of course. I’ll be fine. Go help that mama.”
“Yes, ma’am!” He touched the brim of his hat, kneed Brigadier’s sides and rode after Ken, his heart pounding hard, hoping he’d have another living calf and not the alternative.