The Forest Ranger's Child. Leigh Bale

Чтение книги онлайн.

      Chapter Four

      As Dad and Lily pulled into the yard at Emerald Ranch, a black-and-white dog trotted from the barn to greet them with several loud barks. Lily looked around with interest. Everything appeared the same, except a long stable had been erected near the corrals. And the place had a slightly disorderly appearance in upkeep. A few rails had fallen off one of the fences and the gate hung on its hinges. The enormous red barn sat off to one side, needing a fresh coat of paint. So did the white house. Never in all her growing-up years had Dad ever let the blue trim reach the point of peeling.

       No vegetable garden had been quartered off at the side of the house and furrowed for planting. It wasn’t too late to get some seeds in the ground and Lily made a mental note to take care of that soon. Her mouth watered at the thought of homegrown tomatoes and yellow crookneck squash. She didn’t say anything, but couldn’t help wondering why Dad had let the place fall into disrepair.

       Corrals surrounded the barn for working horses, all empty except two. A number of pretty mares and younger colts lifted their heads from a trough of hay long enough to blink at them before going back to feeding. Where was all the livestock Dad used to have around the place? The cows, horses, pigs and chickens?

       He parked the truck beside the stable and got out, moving with less agility than she remembered.

       “Hi, there, Beans.” He ruffled the dog’s ears and coughed again.

       His boot heels tapped against the wooden porch. White wicker chairs sat angled to one side with a small table to rest glasses of lemonade in the evening. Lily remembered sitting here almost every day when she’d been young. Now, the chairs needed a fresh coat of paint and new cushions.

       As they walked into the house, Lily was overwhelmed by the scent of pine. Memories flooded her as she gazed around the dingy room. The curtains were drawn closed. Magazines, papers and dirty dishes littered the coffee table. A thick layer of dust coated the end tables and bookshelf. From the looks of the worn carpet, it hadn’t been vacuumed in some time. When had Daddy last cleaned?

       He led her back to her bedroom and she was surprised to find it just as she’d left it, except for a layer of dust. The small window where she’d sat daydreaming…and used to sneak out of the house after a fight with Dad. The stuffed animals and dolls crowding her bed, which no longer held any appeal to her. The purple afghan Mom had made for her sixteenth birthday, just before she died. Lily planned to keep that forever.

       Without thinking, she reached a hand up to touch Mom’s large engagement ring, which she wore on a chain around her neck. Dad had given the ring to Lily the day they’d buried her mother and she’d never taken it off since. She’d thought of pawning the ring for money to take care of herself and the baby but hadn’t been able to do so. The warm weight of the ring beneath her shirt gave her comfort, as though Mom were always with her, watching over her.

       Lily had sure let her mother down this time. And Dad, too. Lily didn’t deserve their affection. And yet she realized they both loved her as unconditionally as she loved her unborn child. She knew now that even Dad with his irascible temper still loved her.

       “Once you get settled, I’d like you to meet someone,” he said.

       She lifted her hands in a careless gesture. “I’m settled now, Dad. I have nothing to put away.”

       “Okay, then. Come on.” He turned and she followed him outside to the stable.

       The dog had been lying on the front porch and hopped up to pad after them, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.

       “This is Beans?” Lily asked.

       “Yep. A good cattle dog, but I haven’t had much work for him lately because we no longer have any cows.”

       “Why not?” She walked beside Dad, having no difficulty keeping up with his ponderous stride. She remembered he used to walk so briskly.

       “Um, I’m just too busy with the horses to take care of cows anymore.”

       She didn’t believe that. Dad too busy to herd a few cows? Even if he wasn’t in the market to sell them, he always raised a couple of cows for beef. But she’d been gone for years and no longer knew anything about her father’s life.

       She breathed deep of the fresh air, glad to be out of the stuffy house. This afternoon, she’d start scrubbing the rooms from stem to stern. Right now, she figured Dad had a ranch hand or horse trainer he wanted to introduce her to.

       He slid open the wide double doors of the stable. Drafts of sunlight filtered over bales of hay stacked on one side near a small tractor. As Lily stepped inside, she caught the musty scent of straw and horses. A smell she found familiar and pleasing.

       Dust motes sifted through the air. Several saddles rested on racks along one wall with tack and various tools hung neatly on hooks nearby. Stalls lined the other wall. She gazed at it with curiosity, liking the building immediately. She remembered how she’d spent hours in the barn, brushing horses, bottle feeding baby calves, or hiding up in the loft to avoid Dad’s temper. Strange how much she now wanted to be back here at home.

       Dad gestured toward one of the stalls far away from the mares and Lily heard the low nicker of a horse. A big sorrel stallion stood inside, a white star on his forehead. The quarterhorse lifted his proud head and took a couple of steps forward, his ears perked. Lily admired his conformation, sleek lines and wavy black mane. Dad had taught her to recognize good horseflesh when she saw it and this was a fine specimen. She could understand why Dad kept the stallion isolated from the mares. Just his presence in the stable could keep the girls agitated.

       “He’s beautiful,” she breathed, unable to deny a shiver of delight at seeing such a lovely animal.

       Dad grunted. “His name is Peg.”

       “Peg? That’s an odd name for a stallion.”

       “His name’s Pegasus, but I call him Peg.”

       Lily edged closer, extending her hand slowly, palm up. Many stallions were temperamental and she didn’t want to get bit. “Is he gentle?”

       “Very. A child could halter and tack him up. But he’s fast. You should see him move. A winged Pegasus. Like lightning.” Dad clapped his hands together and the horse jerked his head СКАЧАТЬ