Reunited with the Cowboy. Carolyne AarsenЧитать онлайн книгу.
she stood, she caught sight of John walking across the yard. Once again she felt the regrets of the past slip into the present.
If only she hadn’t gone away to school. If only she’d listened to him. If only she hadn’t broken up with him. If only she had told him the truth about why she’d wanted to work for Mitch.
As if he sensed her thoughts, John looked back over his shoulder at the house. Heather lifted her hand to touch the window as if to make a connection with him.
Then he seemed to shake his head, shove his hands in his pockets and keep walking.
Heather squared her own shoulders and turned away from the window. She had other things to deal with.
When she came back to the dining room, she walked over to where her mother sat.
“How are you feeling?” Heather asked her as she bent over to give her a kiss.
“Much better. I slept well.”
“I’m so glad.” Heather glanced over at Alice. “And good morning to you, Alice,” she said to the older woman, sitting with a cup of coffee in front of her, feeding Adana bits of her muffin. “Good to see you again.”
“Welcome home. I was sorry to hear about your car, but glad that you’re okay.”
“Thank you,” was all Heather said. She liked Alice well enough, but had never felt entirely comfortable around her. Alice had told her often how lucky she was to be taken in by the Bannisters, and had subtly reminded her of the debt she owed this family.
“Were you able to reschedule the interview?” her mother asked with an optimism Heather wished she could channel.
“No. They decided to hire someone else.”
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.” The disappointment in her voice only seemed to add to Heather’s sense of failure.
“There’ll be other work,” she said, pasting on the same smile that she used when she was working the cameras, trying to look excited to be wearing a bathing suit while a chilly wind blew.
“I understand from your mother that you’ll be around the ranch for a few weeks,” Alice said, cradling her cup of coffee in her hands, lifting one eyebrow as if in query.
“I’m here until my car is fixed,” Heather said, going to pour herself another cup of coffee. And while she was here, she would be sending out her résumé to whoever she could.
“That could work out well for me,” Alice continued. “I just got a call from my aunt this morning. She’s not been feeling well. If you’re going to be here, I could visit her. Your mother is still fragile and I wouldn’t feel right leaving her and Adana alone. Keira is busy with her work and wedding plans, so I don’t think it would be fair to ask her.”
Heather sneaked a quick glance toward Adana, who was noisily sucking back a sippy cup of milk. She put her cup down and grinned, showing her tiny top teeth. “Hi, Hevver,” she said.
Heather’s heart warmed at the sound of the little girl saying her name. Obviously she was as smart as her mother.
“If it doesn’t work, I can reschedule...” As Alice’s sentence trailed off, Heather guessed the woman sensed her hesitation.
“Or we could find somebody else,” Ellen said.
Heather caught her mother’s rueful smile and hastily put her hand on her arm, hoping and praying that her mom didn’t think her lack of enthusiasm had anything to do with her.
“Of course I can help out today,” Heather quickly said, giving her a reassuring look. She was free for the next few days. The least she could do was help where she was needed.
“That’s wonderful,” Alice said, sounding relieved. “Would you mind terribly if I left right away?”
So soon?
“Sure. That’d be fine,” Heather said with a confidence she certainly didn’t feel. “Just tell me what I need to do for my mother, and I’m sure I can figure out what to do with Adana. How hard can it be to take care of a toddler?”
“Not hard at all. She’s a little sweetheart,” Ellen said, reaching over and tucking Adana’s bib under her chin.
The child banged her cup on her tray table, then looked at the gathered women, as if sensing the conversation was about her. She gurgled in pleasure at the attention, happily oblivious to the gnawing pain in Heather’s soul that her very presence created.
It’s just for today, Heather told herself. She could handle it for one day.
* * *
“You’re good to go,” John called out to Monty as he pushed on the fence tightener.
Down the fence line, he could see the rancher swinging his hammer, pounding in the staples on the barbed wire that John had just pulled taut.
They had been busy all afternoon, wading through mud, the occasional snowdrift and sometimes walking on bare ground, working their way down the fence toward the home place, getting the calving area ready. In a month they would be busy, calving out cows. The sun beating down on John’s back was a promise of the warmer weather coming.
Soon, he thought, pounding the last nail on his end and pulling off the tightener. He glanced up at the hills, which were already bare of snow, and across the pasture, where only a few drifts leftover from the last storm lay stranded against fence and tree lines.
He dropped the hammer in his pail of tools and lifted it off the ground. In only a few days, the drifts had receded substantially, leaving mud in their wake.
On Saturday they had to process the cows and give them their precalving shots. He wasn’t looking forward to herding them through all this dirt.
“So, we done with this?” Monty called out as he strode toward him.
“That was the last of it,” John said.
“Good. I’ll head over to the corrals and check them once more before we have to run all the cows through.” He nodded toward the house. “You just take a moment to say hi to your little girl.”
A high-pitched squeal of laughter caught John’s attention and his smile grew.
But when he turned, he frowned at what he saw. Heather was pulling a high-sided wagon. Adana sat inside, leaning over the edge, staring at the ground rolling past her as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.
His eyes reluctantly touched on Heather, who was looking everywhere but at him. She had put a down vest over her shirt, a concession to the brisk spring weather.
Though she still looked as if she was heading to a fashion shoot, the down-home clothes were a reminder of happier times. When they would go out riding. When he would watch her run barrels, timing her and coaching her.
He shook his head, as if to dislodge the errant memories he wouldn’t allow himself to indulge in.
“Where’s Alice?” he asked. He set the pail down and halfheartedly walked toward them. They met halfway between the pens and the house, the tapping of Monty’s hammer echoing over the yard.
“Daddy, ride,” Adana called out, reaching for him. He picked her up, settling her against his hip.
“She left this morning to visit her aunt,” Heather said. “She asked me to help out with Adana while she was gone.”
John narrowed his eyes at the thought of Heather taking care of his daughter. “Just for today?”
“It’s fine. I...I can manage. I’m not familiar with kids, mind you...”
“I sensed that,” he stated, holding Adana a little closer. She laid her head against him, as she often did when she was tired or upset. Did she also feel Heather’s discomfort?
He felt