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It was his goal. When he’d been very young, and Granddad had run the ranch, selling horses had been simpler. Cowboys hadn’t yet faded into the mists of memory, rodeos had been more popular, and horses hadn’t been entirely about breeds and bloodlines. Good workers had been what most people wanted.
As times had changed, though, he had changed with them. A lot of his stock now was show stock, the kind people bought to strengthen their own herds in order to win prizes because those prizes meant good stud fees. He showed some of his own horses every winter and had gotten enough recognition that his line was doing well.
He still had his regular customers, too, everything from guest ranches, to rodeos, to people who just liked horses and could afford to keep a stable. Sometimes he even thought about branching out into draft horses, Belgians maybe, because there was a pretty firm market for horses that could pull wagons, sleighs and carriages.
So far his quarter horses hadn’t made a big showing on the race circuit, but they were getting closer. He had mixed feelings about that, so he was reluctant to push in that direction.
He paused, just before he reached the pen, aware that the horses were steadily closing in from behind at the dogs’ urgings. Ted gave him a quizzical look.
Why was he thinking about this right now? His business plan was pretty clear, and so far seemed to be working well enough that he was able to keep the ranch and keep his sons’ futures bright.
He was just distracting himself, he realized. Trying not to notice the anxiety churning in the pit of his stomach because that bit of a woman had walked through his door and opened up all the barely healed wounds once again.
She was kind of pretty, but he would have thought her a whole lot prettier if she weren’t so thin. The way she’d pecked at breakfast this morning had been disturbing. He wondered if she was one of those health-food nuts.
People like that always made him shake his head a bit. Of course, as Mary had always said, “If folks worked hard enough or exercised enough, they wouldn’t have to worry about everything they put in their mouths.”
True, he supposed. His family had always worked hard on this ranch, and most of them had lived to a very ripe old age. Right now he should have been working alongside his dad and granddad, and would have been except for an accident on an icy mountain road eight years ago.
Cripes. He caught himself, wondering why he couldn’t stay away from the paths of grief and loss. He’d made peace with all that. It was the way of life. All life.
Relief filled him as he heard the sounds of an approaching truck engine. His help was arriving, and now they’d be so busy he wouldn’t have time to think.
No time to think of lost family and wife, no time to try to avoid noticing that Courtney was appealing in a way he’d never thought he’d feel again.
Thinking had become an enemy of sorts. Something to be dodged unless it was squarely focused on work or the boys.
Well, he had plenty to do today and that would prevent him from having to play hide-and-seek inside his own head. Thank God.
Chapter 3
The boys came home from school between three and four. Evidently they must have a rather long bus ride. Courtney heard their return with relief, because other than an offer of lunch she had skipped, she had spent the day being a voyeur in the life of a dead friend.
It hurt. She felt guilty. But she also felt envious. Mary’s emails to her sons had been both beautiful and touching, and incredibly upbeat. Given that Mary’s days had been almost entirely devoted to dealing with the ugly consequences of the worst side of human nature, the tone of her communications was remarkable. She always found some cute and funny story to tell the boys, often about a dog some of the hospital members had adopted.
Courtney knew that adoption was officially frowned upon. Dogs in Iraq were considered unclean animals, and lived out their short and pathetic lives as scavengers who were often kicked and otherwise mistreated. Soldiers naturally wanted to save them, but official policy forbade it. Many rescued dogs were ordered killed if commanders found out about it.
So the tales of how the hospital managed to keep and hide a dog were filled with life, laughter and even a touch of amusingly wicked pleasure.
Another insight into Mary, one that made Courtney like her even more. And miss her even more.
An insight her sons would cherish more as they grew older.
But whatever Courtney had hoped to find, she quickly divined that she would not find it in emails to the boys. That left copies of their Skype conversations, photographs and any videos Mary might have mailed home.
By the time the boys returned from school, she was quite certain she was not up to viewing them. Not today. Not after the emotional morass she had hiked through in reading those emails. Seeing Mary’s maternal side made her acutely aware, as never before, of just what the twins had lost and would now never know.
She was just about to shut down her computer, but decided to check her email first. She had a few friends who might be wondering where she had gone, and she probably needed to assure them she was really just on a vacation, far, far away.
And indeed the first several were exactly what she expected, friendly demands to know where she was, requests for a photo or two, declarations of envy.
But the fourth in the list came from an address she didn’t recognize. Thinking it must be junk mail her filter hadn’t caught, she clicked on it, wondering why it hadn’t been shuffled to the correct folder.
What she found made her neck prickle.
I know what you’re up to. If you think you can get away with it, you’re wrong. I’m watching you.
Her heart slammed, and she could barely breathe. She’d felt the implied threat before, but always so subtly she had been able to think she was imagining it. Those orders to stop investigating had always been couched in reasonable terms, making it impossible to say for certain that there was any intended threat.
But there was no mistaking that email. A shiver trickled down her spine, but then she reminded herself that no way on earth could anyone know she was here. Before leaving, she’d made noises about going to the Pacific Northwest to enjoy a cooler climate and some time on the water. Heck, she’d even left a couple of brochures on her desk.
No. No one could know she was here. Absolutely no one.
Fear and shock quickly gave way to anger. Using the skills she had learned on her job, she tried to trace the email’s origin, and found it came from an anonymous account in Finland. Damn, she hated those things. They were virtually impossible to break through.
Finally, disgusted, she deleted the mail and shut down the machine. Her self-control back in place, she got up from the computer, packed up the emails and the CDs and went out to the kitchen where she heard the voices. The boys were already diving into an after-school snack.
As she entered the room, Dom said to them, “I’ve got another twenty horses to do, and then I’ll be done for the day and we’ll start dinner. Be sure to get going on that homework.”
“Okay,” came a pair of answers.
Dom saw Courtney and looked at her. The quietude had come back to his dark eyes, and it didn’t waver when he saw her. “You must be hungry by now. Ask the boys what’s handy. I need maybe another hour with the horses.”
“Thanks.”
He gave her the briefest of nods, clapped his hat back on his head and strode out the back door.
Kyle got her an apple and she joined them at the table.
Todd asked, “You got any kids?”
“No.”
“Are you gonna stay for a while?”
“I don’t think so. Maybe another day.” She wondered why the boys exchanged looks at that, but decided maybe they were relieved to know life would go back to normal soon.
And it was possible to tell them apart, she realized. There was the slightest difference in their noses, a small hint of a downturn at the corners of Kyle’s eyes. Not something to be noticed at a glance. And Todd had a very tiny mole on his left cheek. “I can tell you apart!” she announced with surprise.
That caused both boys to shriek with laughter. “They put us in separate classes cuz the teachers have trouble.”
“Let me guess. I bet you sometimes switch.”
They shifted, their guilty looks answer enough. Courtney laughed. “And I bet you don’t help them out at all.”
Kyle shrugged. “Why should we? All they have to do is really look at us.”
Courtney couldn’t really argue against that. Even if playing jokes and switching classes wasn’t a good thing to be doing. And that caused her to think of something else. “Does it bother you that they don’t look?”
Apparently they hadn’t thought of it in those terms before. And why should they, given their youth? Replies were slow in coming, almost as if they wondered if there was a right answer. Or as if they weren’t sure how they felt.
“I guess, sometimes,” Kyle said eventually. “Mostly it seems funny.” He glanced at Todd. “Right?”
“Mostly,” Todd agreed. “But sometimes it’s not so funny.”
“Like when?”
“Like … like when we can switch classes for a whole day and nobody notices.”
Courtney’s heart twinged. “Does it make you feel invisible?”
Todd shrugged. Apparently the waters were getting too deep for a seven-year-old. “I dunno. It just isn’t funny sometimes.”
“I guess I can see that.” And she could. “But you know what?”
“What?”
“You have different fingerprints, even though you’re twins.”
The boys perked up at that. “So we couldn’t get mixed up for real?”
“No way.”
“Can you take our fingerprints?”
“I don’t have a kit with me. But if it’s okay with your dad, I think your sheriff could do it and give them to you.”
All of a sudden, both boys were grinning again, happier in some way. Funny, she had always thought twins liked being twins, but faced with these two it occurred to her that being a twin might have impacts that had never occurred to her. Something to keep in mind.
As ordered, they dived into their homework, which amounted to a couple of worksheets that didn’t take too long. They wanted Courtney to supervise, so after warning them that it had been a long time since second grade for her and she might not remember enough to be useful—which got more giggles—she sat between them and helped when requested. Which wasn’t often, because these boys seemed to have a good understanding of what they were doing.
They were just finishing up when Dom returned. Courtney turned to join the boys in their greeting and noted the way he appeared to be arrested, as if something in the sight of the three of them gave him pause.
At once Courtney realized she might appear to be taking Mary’s place. She started to rise, but Dom waved her to stay.
“I need a shower,” he said shortly. “Back in ten.”
She watched him walk from the room, listened to the sound of his feet on the stairs.
Be careful, she reminded herself. Be careful. The man was a grieving widower, and her mere presence in the house had to be uncomfortable for him, never mind her mission.
The boys appeared oblivious to any undercurrents, however. They finished the last bit of their worksheets, tucked them in folders and away in their backpacks.
Then, like a pair of small whirlwinds, they grabbed their jackets and darted out the door, calling to her to come with them because they wanted to see the horses.
At once she jumped up, hunting for the boots she had worn that morning, grabbing her own windbreaker from a hook. The idea of those two little boys alone out there with those large horses didn’t seem exactly safe.
By the time she got out there, the two of them were perched on the fence rail looking absolutely comfortable and confident. A few of the horses had come over to take carrots from them, and the boys reached out to stroke, scratch and pet, their touches obviously welcome.
Watching in amazement, she remembered her own initial nervousness that morning, and realized she knew nothing, absolutely nothing, about growing up on a ranch and what that evidently meant.
Those boys knew these horses, were comfortable with them and the horses appeared to reciprocate. Indeed, the twins’ entire manner had changed, becoming quieter and more like their father than they had been in the house. Even their voices had softened.
Amazed and curious, Courtney walked slowly over to the fence and stood nearby. Part of her longed to be able to sit on the rail, too, and pass out carrots, but part of her was still reluctant. Oh, she had ridden horses before in her life. Every girl who could manage it did so, even if only for a short time. It wasn’t as if she was afraid to ride a horse. A nice tame beast already saddled, with an experienced horseman there to guide her every step of the way.
This was different, and she wondered why. Because there were so many of them? Because to some extent they appeared to be wild, rather than tame, since they were out there free of all halters and saddles?
Maybe. Yet as she had just seen this morning, these horses were as tame as could be. She took a halting step toward the pasture fence, then threw back her shoulders and walked over to stand by the boys.
Todd greeted her at once and handed her a couple of carrots. “Just hold it out and see who takes it.”
So, leaning against the rail, she did exactly that. Much to her amazement, a gangly-looking small horse came over, his soft lips barely touching her fingers as he took a carrot.
“Wow!” she said quietly. “That was amazing.”
Todd laughed. “It’s fun. They’re all good horses. Dad says that’s cuz we treat ‘em well.”
“We treat ‘em like horses,” Kyle corrected.
“Meaning?” Courtney asked as she handed out another carrot.
“They don’t think like us. They need different things.” Kyle sounded like he was parroting Dom, and he probably was. “Dad’s teaching us all about it.”
“That’s great,” Courtney agreed. “You’re lucky. I don’t know anything about horses, really.”
“Dad’ll take care of that. Unless you leave tomorrow.”
Unless she left tomorrow. She’d been ready to do that not so long ago, as she had been reading Mary’s emails and letters and learning to know a warm and wonderful side of the woman she had never met in Iraq.
But that anonymous threat, at first so shocking, seemed to have stiffened her spine. No way could she have gotten to this level in her job if a mere anonymous email could scare her off.
And somehow standing here with Mary’s boys and looking out over a sunny pasture full of horses, Courtney found herself wishing she didn’t have to go so soon. This place could grow on her, she realized. Seriously grow on her.
She caught herself and shook the thought away. She was falling for an image, she reminded herself. A pastoral scene that might have come out of a storybook. She hadn’t the least idea how much work this place required, or how much it took out of the family. How much those beautiful horses really needed.
What she must do was keep reminding herself that she was wearing rubber boots. Even on a beautiful horse ranch, you could step in manure.
After the boys were tucked in, Dom came back downstairs almost reluctantly. He’d been aware all day of Courtney’s presence on the ranch, the presence of a woman in the empty space left by Mary’s absence.
It made him uneasy. He’d gotten used to living alone, living with hours of silence, living without companionship. And, whether he wanted to think about it or not, he felt guilty for being so aware of Courtney. Logically he knew that life went on, that he was just a man, and a man had needs. Logically he knew that Mary wouldn’t want him to live out his life alone.
Hell, she’d even told him so before she shipped out. He hadn’t wanted her to speak the words, had even tried to stop her, but she’d insisted on saying them anyway. “If anything happens to me, Dom, you’ve got to move on. For yourself and for the twins.”
But his heart told a different story, as if the mere act of noticing that Courtney was a woman, a too-skinny woman even, was a betrayal of Mary.
Talk about a screwed-up head.
Right now he couldn’t even summon a work-related excuse to escape into his office or escape to the barn. No, he worked so hard to avoid thinking that sometimes he couldn’t come up with a single thing left to do.
