Her Cowboy Reunion. Ruth Logan Herne

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СКАЧАТЬ considered it more like cruel fate. Either way, she was here, and if he was honest with himself, she was even more beautiful than she’d been a dozen years before. Long chestnut-toned hair, pulled back. Cinnamon eyes that almost matched the hair, and skin as fair and freckled as he remembered.

      “Heath Caufield.”

      He turned swiftly toward an old, friendly voice. “Corrie?”

      She hugged him, laughed, then hugged him again as Lizzie began to retrieve bags from their vehicle.

      “You came all the way up here? I can’t believe this.”

      “Did you think I’d send any one of my babies on alone?” She stared at him as if aghast. “Not on your life! My girls will begin this new adventure with me by their sides. Caring for horses does not come easy and it’s a night-and-day enterprise. But that’s something you already know.”

      He sure did. He’d spent seven years working their grandfather’s horse farm before he’d been banished.

      Corrie offered him a frank look, a look that made him wonder how much she knew. And then it was gone. “Do you expect there’s room in the kitchen for one more? I don’t want to step on any toes.”

      “There aren’t any paid positions open right now, Corrie.” He didn’t want to say money was tight on a ranch valued in the millions of dollars. But it was.

      She shrugged. “I put some money by over the years, and followed some investing advice. Money’s not what I’m after. A roof over our heads, and food to eat—that’s not a bad day, is it? I’m not handy with horses, but I’d like to learn my way around sheep. Such docile creatures. And the lambs, so small, like a painting from the Good Book.” She indicated the size of a newborn lamb with her hands. “And of course, I am good in the garden. Always was, and fresh-grown food is a blessing.” She gave him a quiet scan. “You look good, Heath. Older. And wiser.”

      “Smarter, for sure.” He didn’t look at Liz. He didn’t have to look at Liz to remember the strength and urgency of young love. How could one forget the unforgettable? He couldn’t, but a smart man put it all in perspective. “Steadier.”

      “Steady is good.” She put a hand on his arm. “You’re married.”

      She’d dropped her gaze to his left hand where his plain gold band glimmered. “I was.” A rogue cloud passed between them and the sun at that moment, chilling the spring air as it dulled the light. “She died from complications after having our little boy. Now it’s me and Zeke. My son. We do all right.”

      Corrie did what she’d always done.

      She prayed.

      Right then and there, her hand on his arm, head bowed, she whispered a prayer for him and his child.

      Then she stared up at him, and he couldn’t bear to see the pain in her eyes, in anyone’s eyes, because he’d moved on. He had no choice because he might have lost Anna but he still had his son, Ezekiel Sean Caufield. And Zeke came first now. In everything.

      Lizzie had drawn close. He wanted to avoid her, especially now, remembering the birth of his son. His wife had risked her life and lost, but she’d been willing to go the distance for their child.

      That set the two women a long ways apart. One who was willing to sacrifice for a child, one who couldn’t be bothered.

      He had no time to dwell. He had work to do and a son waiting for him. A spunky little boy, waiting to play with his dad.

      He started to turn. Lizzie turned at the same moment, and there they were, face-to-face.

      Anger bubbled up from somewhere so deep it should have stayed buried, but Corrie’s words about his wedding ring had opened it like a fresh-dug grave.

      Lizzie started to speak, then didn’t.

      Just as well. They had nothing to say to one another.

      He reached out and hoisted two duffel-style bags, then moved toward the porch.

      “Where are you going?”

      “Inside?” he said, because it was fairly obvious.

      She hooked a thumb toward the stable. “Who’s living in the barn apartment?”

      “No one.”

      “Well, there is now.” She grabbed a rolling bag by the handle. “Leave the right-hand duffel here, please, but go ahead and take Corrie’s into the house. First rule of horse is to have someone close by that knows how to rule the horse.”

      “You’re going to live in a barn?” He looked back at Corrie. She remained quiet, just out of the way, watching their back-and-forth.

      “At least until I get a feel for the place.” She kept walking toward the barn. “Is it furnished?”

      It wasn’t because Sean had cared for the horses until he got too sick, and he’d lived in the house. “No.”

      “Wi-Fi?”

      Sean had the equine offices built on the first floor purposely, facing the pasture. If he was throwing down a major equine business deal, he didn’t want the walk back to the house to interrupt. The vision of pricey mares and geldings in the rich, green grass added enticement to the deal. “Yes. There’s a full office set up with all the records. Hard copy and online. I can show you all that.”

      “Corrie, I’ll see you once you’re settled.” Liz motioned toward the house. “The sooner I get set up, the quicker I can grab some furniture off Craigslist.”

      Used furniture?

      Living in the barn? Was she serious?

      One look at her face confirmed that she was. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe she understood the stakes. Maybe she had what it would take to help make things right.

      He hauled Corrie’s things inside and up the main stairs. He set the duffel inside the first room, then repeated the trip with the smaller bags and boxes.

      His phone rang as he backed out of Corrie’s room. The name of a well-known Pacific Northwest grocery retailer flashed. He took the call, and by the time he’d finished a deal for four hundred fresh market lambs for wedding season, nearly a quarter hour had passed. That meant he’d left Lizzie to do all her own lifting and carrying.

      He hurried back outside because no matter how rough their past had been, he wasn’t normally a jerk. At least he hoped he wasn’t, but with Pine Ridge teetering on the brink, he might be testier than normal. It wasn’t fair to lay that at her door, but there wouldn’t be time to sugarcoat things, either.

      Lizzie wasn’t in his line of sight when he stepped outside. He started for the nearest stairs at the same time he heard his five-year-old son sigh out loud as he gazed out through the square, wooden spindles. “You’re so beautiful.”

      Heath turned in the direction his son was facing and swallowed hard, because Zeke was one hundred percent correct. Standing on the graveled yard below, Lizzie Fitzgerald was absolutely, positively drop-dead gorgeous in an all-American girl kind of way. That СКАЧАТЬ