Her Cowboy Reunion. Ruth Herne Logan

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СКАЧАТЬ a far-off pasture dotted with hundreds of recently sheared sheep. “Some folks hiked in and thought they’d set up camp. Campers mean campfires, and if you’re green to these parts, you don’t always understand the dangers. And even though it’s still spring, we don’t encourage people to camp on the ranch. I’m going to head up and explain where the campgrounds are.”

      “He didn’t tell them to move on?” Lizzie motioned toward the cowboy moving toward the barn.

      “Jace did. They called him names and didn’t believe he had the authority to evict them.”

      “Called him names?” Lizzie stared after the retreating cowboy before bringing her attention back to Heath. “I don’t—”

      “Slurs,” said Corrie.

      The older woman lifted her chin and Lizzie finally understood. The trespassers had spurned Jace because they doubted a black man had the authority to send them packing. “Someone called him out because he’s dark-skinned? That’s some crazy, foolish nerve right there. Want help moving them off?” She raised her gaze to Heath’s and stood firm. “Give me a horse. One of the ranch ponies. I’m ready to ride.”

      “Whoa, girl.” Corrie put a hand on her arm. “I appreciate your willingness to stand up for truth, justice and the American way, but how about we unpack before you get yourself shot again?”

      “Again?” Heath looked shocked.

      “Grazed. No biggie. Part of the job, at least the one I had back then.”

      “What kind of a job allows shooting at women?”

      “I was overseeing the Mid-Central region, from Ohio to Indiana and all points south. A political story got too hot and I was with the investigative team when someone tried to scare them off. I got grazed by a bullet. It was long before the executive team decided that having a Fitzgerald on staff seemed imprudent while the company crashed and burned, taking a lot of people’s money with it. Bad press is bad press.”

      “They fired you because of your father?” His brows drew together again. “Who does that kind of thing? If we all got fired because we had lousy parents, there would be a lot of us out of a job. Including me.”

      “Publishing is different now,” said Corrie as Jace led a second mount out of the nearby barn. “It’s not like it was when I started with the Fitzgeralds and I don’t know that it will ever be that way again. There’s not a newspaper or news media corporation that can afford to risk their image for the dwindling advertising dollars.”

      “I understand taking care of the bottom line. That doesn’t make it right to punish someone for their parents’ mistakes.”

      “Lots of things in life aren’t fair,” said Lizzie as the other cowboy mounted his horse and came their way. “We cling to our faith and hold tight to the reins.”

      “And trust the good Lord to look after us, same as always,” added Corrie.

      “Jace, this is a family friend. Cora Lee Satterly. And Sean’s niece, Elizabeth Fitzgerald.”

      “A pleasure, ladies.” He looked toward Heath. “Are we good?”

      Heath nodded. “Let’s go.” He tipped his hat slightly toward Corrie. Just a touch to the brim. “I’ll see you later. Make yourselves at home.”

      He said nothing to Lizzie.

      She refused to let it get to her.

      She’d made mistakes. So had he. But faith and a solid work ethic had pulled her firmly into the present. She’d stayed the course, gotten her education, and now was at the helm of a teetering agricultural business worth a small fortune while he ran the large sheep ranch alongside.

      A horse stamped its foot, wanting attention. Another one followed suit.

      She walked to the barns, determined. She’d get to know the horses, then the finances, then the horses again. One way or another she’d do right by both.

      * * *

      Anger formed a burr deep in Heath’s chest and hadn’t let loose in the two hours it took for him and Jace Middleton to ride into the hills, ask the campers to leave, then keep watch while they did.

      By the time they’d packed their camp and pulled away in a huff, he was hungry, tired, annoyed and sore. There was only one prescription to cure all of that.

      His son.

      “I’ll tend the horses.” Jace took charge once they rode into the yard. “You go get Zeke.”

      “Thanks, Jace.” He texted Cookie, and when the cook replied that Rosina had picked up Zeke an hour before, he climbed into his Jeep and headed toward the clutch of four-room cabins between the sprawling sheep barns and the road. He pulled into Harve and Rosina Garcia’s driveway. Harve had been working sheep for Sean for nearly twenty years. He and his brother Aldo had emigrated from Peru to work the sheep through the customary annual hill drives. For the local Peruvian Americans, the drive was a part of life, a tradition dating back to earlier times. Government grazing restrictions had changed things, which meant Pine Ridge had to change, too. And at no small expense, adding to current concerns.

      Zeke had spotted his car from their backyard and raced his way before he came to a full stop. “Dad!”

      The old knot loosened the moment Zeke jumped into his arms.

      This was his reason for living, right here. This boy was his only connection to his beloved wife. And while he loved his son more than he could have ever imagined, if he’d known that Anna would be trading her life for Zeke’s, Heath would have found a different way to have a family. As he held his beautiful and precocious son in his arms, that thought made him feel like a lesser man.

      “Junior taught me the coolest things you’ve ever seen in your life!” Excitement exploded from the boy like fireworks in a night sky. “He thinks I might be the best cowboy to ever ride the Wild Wild West someday, but he says I gotta get some boots, Dad, and I told him I’ve been askin’ for boots for a long, long time.” Two hands smooshed Heath’s cheeks as Zeke leaned closer. “I told him I would ask you again, because it is so very, very important.” He pushed his face right up to his father’s, making his voice sound squished and slightly robotic. “Can I please have a pair of real cowboy boots like you and Harve and Junior and everybody else in the world?”

      Heath let his voice get all squishy, too. “I’ll think about it. Good boots are pricey, and your feet grow fast. In case you hadn’t noticed.” He deadpanned a look that made his little boy laugh out loud. “Let’s see if you were good for Rosie, okay?”

      “He’s always good!” Harve’s wife bustled out of the door, despite the bulk of a nearly nine-month pregnancy. “And he is such a help to me, Heath. I don’t bend so well right now, and Zeke is right there to get things for me when the twins need something. And a true hand with the chickens and the pigs.” She beamed down at him.

      “They smell.” Zeke screwed up his face as Harve Junior joined them. “But Junior says if I want to be a cowboy, I’ve got to be a good helper and not worry about a little stink now and then.”

      “Junior’s right. And he’s a good hand on the ranch, so he knows what he’s talking about.”

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