скачать книгу бесплатно
Keith dropped into the pew beside him and let out a mournful sigh. Keith always had an air of long-suffering, which, Tanner suspected, had as much to do with his estranged daughters as it had with the arthritis he knew had been bothering the man as long as Tanner could remember. “So what you been doing since you left Saddlebank?” Mr. McCauley asked him.
“Been busy with work,” Tanner said with a polite smile. He knew his sudden appearance after a two-year absence would engender commentary, welcome or not.
“You sound like my daughters,” Keith grumped, tugging a folded-up bulletin out of the pocket of his shirt. “They’re always busy, too. Too busy to see their dad. After all I’ve done for them, all the sacrifices I made.”
Tanner kept his smile in place, fully understanding why Lauren, Jodie and Erin had stayed away from the ranch and their father. Keith and Tanner’s stepmother, Alice, would have made a good pair. Both intent on letting their offspring know exactly how much they were owed and not letting them forget it.
Tanner folded his arms over his chest as the music group began another song. The song wasn’t familiar to him and he felt a moment of irritation. He had hoped to find some comfort in the familiarity of the church service. He focused on the words of the song the group was singing, flashed on a screen at the front.
“My refuge, my fortress, sanctuary to me. My God, my father, my eternity.” Tanner let the words wash over him, realizing that of all the relationships in his life, all of the changes and losses, God had always been there, waiting.
Forgive me, Lord, he prayed, and made himself concentrate on the service. The group was finished playing, and Pastor Dykstra, a young man with a beaming smile, came to the front. He looked over the congregation and welcomed everyone, then encouraged the congregation to welcome the people around them with a handshake and a smile.
Tanner turned to Keith first but only received a cursory nod. The man had his arms folded tightly across his chest, the black look on his face clearly showing his feelings about this new development.
“Don’t care for all that hand shaking or these new songs,” he grumped. “My aunt should be playing the organ, not these young kids who don’t know the first thing about music.”
And welcome to the service to you, too, thought Tanner, stifling a grin at Keith McCauley’s attitude.
“Tanner Fortier, how wonderful to see you here,” Sadie Properzi, an middle-aged woman sitting in front of him, said, clasping his hand with both of hers, her warm demeanor the perfect antidote to Keith’s ill temper. “We missed you.”
“Probably because I don’t live here anymore,” Tanner said.
Sadie’s smile slipped as if she understood why that was, but she recovered quickly and patted him on the arm. “That’s too bad, of course.” Her eyes darted to Keira in silent question but Tanner wasn’t drawn in. He looked behind him, but no one was sitting there, and then he had nowhere else to turn but to Keira. Should he hold out his hand? He was the guest. Should he welcome her or should he wait for her to talk?
So he simply nodded at her and went with, “Hello, Keira.”
Her response was a tight nod. “Welcome to the service,” she said, then looked straight ahead.
He looked at her a moment longer, fighting the same urge he’d felt every time he’d seen her the past couple of days. The urge to demand answers to questions that had tormented him for the past two years. Why hadn’t she been willing to give him a second chance? Why had she ignored his phone calls?
Why hadn’t she called him?
But from the determined set of her jaw and the quick frown thrown his way from Brooke, he knew he wouldn’t be getting any answers in the near future.
He pulled in a long breath and hoped that George Bamford would be able to talk his buddy into letting Tanner stay at his place while he was here.
Refuge Ranch was certainly no refuge for him.
* * *
“I can’t stay long,” Keira said to Brooke, as she glanced at the oversize clock hanging on the wall of the Grill and Chill behind her friend. “Alice said she wanted to visit a friend today and I promised I would make sure Mom had company.”
Brooke owned a hairdressing shop in town and though she and Keira saw each other regularly, Brooke had suggested they meet up for coffee.
But Keira’s hopes for some quiet time were ruined the moment they stepped inside the bustling café. The tables were filled with chattering hockey moms and dads full of excitement for the game they had just played.
“So, what happened to your hand?” Brooke asked, pointing to the bandages that Keira still wore.
“Cut myself doing dishes yesterday,” Keira replied, feeling her cheeks flush as she relived the moment when Tanner bandaged up her finger.
Brooke leaned forward, her brown eyes bright with expectation as she toyed with the purple streak she had put in her hair a few days ago. “So? Tanner? How’s that going for you? Is it hard to see him again? Has he missed you?”
She paused to let the barrage of questions linger, as if hoping Keira would answer one of them.
“So? George?” Keira parried, referencing the thirty-five-year-old bachelor owner of the Grill and Chill, who had held Brooke’s heart for many years. Unfortunately Brooke didn’t hold George’s, a matter that had caused Brooke endless indecision.
“You and Tanner were engaged. You have history,” Brooke said, implying that she and George had far less than that. “You haven’t seen him since you left Saddlebank. It’s got to be hard to see him now.”
“He’s part of my past. I’ve got my future to think of.”
“I saw how Tanner looked at you in church,” Brooke continued. “I think he still likes you.”
Keira clenched her fists against a sudden and unexpected pain. “Please, Brooke, can we stop talking about Tanner?” she asked, keeping her voice quiet, her tone neutral.
Brooke sighed and nodded, then glanced past Keira, her face lighting up. “Oh, my. Here he is.”
Groaning, Keira closed her eyes and prayed for strength, for patience and for the next few days to fly past.
Keira knew the moment Tanner stopped by their table. She had no choice but to look up at him. His head was bare; he tapped his worn cowboy hat against his leg. His cheeks still shone from his shave this morning and she saw a tiny nick on his chin. His white shirt was wrinkled but his blue jeans were brand-new. His gaze landed on Keira, his smile as forced as hers, the tension between them thick as syrup.
“Good to see you again, Tanner,” Brooke said in a falsely cheerful voice. “How do you like our new pastor?”
“He’s good,” Tanner said, turning his attention to Brooke. “I appreciated his message and how he delivered it.”
Keira experienced a stab of jealousy at how his smile softened and grew more genuine when he looked at Brooke but tamped it as quickly as it came. She couldn’t allow herself to want or need anything from Tanner.
“And I hear you’re going to the NFR,” Brooke continued, switching topics with lightning speed, obviously ignoring Keira’s faint nudges against her leg.
“Yeah. I had a good year.”
“So, what brings you to the Grill and Chill?” Keira finally asked, knowing her silence was creating a continued awkwardness.
“George here said he could hook me up with a friend who has a place to stay.”
Keira felt relief, with a surprising touch of regret.
“That’s good,” Keira said with false heartiness. “I hope you find a place.”
“I thought you were staying at the Bannisters’?” Brooke asked.
Tanner’s eyes slid from Keira’s back to Brooke. “It’s just easier if I don’t. Alice is there already and I don’t want to be a burden to anyone.”
“A burden,” Brooke scoffed. “Refuge Ranch was like your second home. Though I can see why you wouldn’t hang around Alice. I still can’t believe she hasn’t offered you part of the ranch. She knows it only came to her because she married your dad.”
This netted her another nudge from Keira, which Brooke also ignored.
“Have you thought about hiring a lawyer?” she continued.
Another nudge. It was as though her friend was poking a stick around in a bear’s den, determined to get a reaction from Tanner. Brooke knew as much about the history of Tanner and his stepmother as Keira did. Why was she pushing?
“It is what it is,” Tanner said quietly. “I can’t spend too much time looking back over my shoulder. I have to look ahead.”
Keira heard an underlying tone in his voice and knew that in some oblique way he was referring to their old relationship.
“Are Monty and John still leaving today?” Tanner asked, glancing at Keira. “I offered to help load the heifers but they said they would be okay.”
“I think that’s the plan,” Keira said. “Though Dad said he wanted to get some more work done on the saddle this morning before he left, which is why he didn’t come to church.”
“When will Monty be back?”
She knew he was thinking about his saddle. “They’re staying at Giesbrooks’ tonight and coming back tomorrow.”
He nodded. “So will he get the saddle done on time, you think?”
“If he gets at it as soon as he comes back. How long can you stay?”
“I wanted to head back before Thursday.”
That meant he would be gone for Thanksgiving. She felt a touch of relief. It was hard enough that Lee and Heather weren’t coming for Thanksgiving, having Tanner around would make the celebration that much harder.
“Hey, Tanner. What ill wind blew your restless self into town today?” George Bamford joined them, wiping his hands on a towel, his dark brown eyes flicking over the group. George was tall, lanky and favored plaid shirts, khaki pants and sneakers. He’d moved to Saddlebank ten years ago, bought the Grill and Chill and had been cooking up hamburgers and fries ever since.
“Nor’wester,” Tanner quipped.
“Nasty one. Though I hear there’s a storm coming in from the north. Another one of those Canuck clippers that never bring anything good.”
“There’s always a storm brewing in Montana in the winter,” Tanner returned. “So, you find a place for me to stay?”
George’s eyes slid to Keira, the faintest question in them as if wondering if it was her fault that Tanner didn’t want to stay at Refuge Ranch.
Keira picked up her mug and took another sip of the coffee that had lost any hint of warmth just to avoid George’s gaze, Brooke’s questions and Tanner’s presence.
“I did. Buddy of mine has a place you can crash,” George said, flipping the towel over his shoulder, his hands resting on his hips. “He’s gone now but he’ll be back tomorrow for a couple hours. Come to his place at seven in the morning and he can give you the keys. Show you what’s what.”
“Sounds good.”
“You girls need anything more?” George asked, turning his attention back to Keira and Brooke. “You want me to get you a hot cup of coffee, Keira?”
Keira caught her friend’s eager look upward but George wasn’t paying attention to her.
Her heart broke for her friend. She wished she could tell her that guys will always disappoint you. That it wasn’t worth it, but now was not the time or place.
“I’m okay,” Keira replied. “I should get going anyhow.” She reached over to get her purse but before she could open it, Tanner had dropped a handful of bills on the table.
“On me,” he said, slipping his wallet in his back pocket.
“No. That’s okay,” Keira protested. “I can pay for this.”
“So can I,” Tanner said, laying his hand on hers to stop her.
She recognized his usual response to her oft-spoken protest. And for the same slow second she felt the warmth of his hand on hers. The old rhythms of their old relationship.
Her thoughts slipped, unwanted, back to that moment last night when he had helped her bandage her hand. The feel of his hand so familiar it created an ache deep in her soul. A yearning for what could never be.
Then he snatched his hand back and Keira felt her chest crumple.
It was a good thing he wasn’t staying at the ranch anymore. Seeing him every day was too much a reminder of what she had lost.
Chapter Four (#ulink_4647eb59-be1c-5fce-9b11-29e55d26a6f7)
The sound of a blustering wind howling around the cabin pulled Tanner out of a troubled dream. He groaned, the fresh injury aching as he rolled over onto his back, sleep getting slowly pulled away.
He lazily rolled his head to the side to check the time. The clock radio beside the bed blinked eight-thirty. As the numbers registered, he sat up and tossed the tangled sheets aside.
Too late. He was supposed to have been out of here before seven o’clock to meet George’s buddy in town.
He jumped out of bed, shivering as the chill of the bedroom hit him. The woodstove must have gone out last night. Snow ticked at the window as the wind gusted. Sounded like a bad storm out there.
He rotated his shoulder, massaging the pain away, then tugged on his clothes and boots, the cold in the room and the late hour urging him on.
Tanner shivered again as he stripped the bed and folded up the bedding to bring to the house. He’d get some clean sheets, bring them back, make the bed, pack up his stuff and leave.
Again.
He should have known that coming back here had been a mistake. Expecting that Keira would open up to him now, in spite of years of silence, was dumb optimism drowning out his common sense. If it weren’t for the fact that Monty had already taken apart David’s saddle yesterday and started working on it, Tanner would turn his back on Refuge Ranch for good.
He put his coat on, turned up the collar, dropped his hat on his head and stepped out onto the deck.
Snow slapped his face and he hunched his shoulders against the howling wind, plowing his way through knee-high snow gathering on the sidewalk. He tried to look down the driveway but the driving snow decreased visibility.
By the time he got to the house, ice stuck to his eyebrows and slipped down his neck. He opened the door to the house and a gust of wind almost tore it from his hand.
As he stepped inside the porch, the door fell shut behind him and he was immediately enveloped in warmth. He set his bedding on a bench, pulled his hat off and slapped it against his thigh. He brushed what snow he could off his jacket, hung it up, toed off his boots and walked toward the murmur of voices from the dining room.
Ellen and his stepmother sat at the table, a little girl between them.
She was shoving pieces of toast in her mouth, smearing half of it over her chubby cheeks and into the golden curls that framed her round face.
Ellen looked up and smiled at him when he came into the room. “Good morning, Tanner.”
She caught the direction of his gaze and smoothed her hand over the little girl’s head. “This is Adana, John’s little girl. Would you like to join us for breakfast?”
Tanner smiled at the little girl, who was engrossed in her food. “No. Thanks. I should have been gone an hour ago.” His gaze ticked over his stepmother, whose attention seemed taken up by buttering some more toast for Adana.
“Pwease. More,” Adana asked, now distracted by the egg his mother was mashing up for her.
“Where are you going in this horrible weather?” Ellen asked.
