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This time she laughed. The scent of horses and the sun’s heat beating on old wood rode the corral air. Although Shep didn’t always say a lot, he was easy to talk to. He made her feel…safe. She’d returned to Sagebrush to feel safe, to be close to her mother and brother, to establish roots that had somehow slipped away on that terrible day in 2001. She’d felt safe in the Victorian with Gina, and now Angie. But not safe in this way. Not protected like this. She suspected Shep was a protector, and that gave her an odd feeling. Clark had been a protector, and because of that he’d died.
“You’re thinking sad thoughts.”
How could Shep do that? How could he know? “Not for long. As soon as your boys hand me a shovel, I’ll only be thinking about getting finished and going on that trail ride.”
Shep motioned her inside the barn. “Then let’s get started.”
The barn was old. Raina could tell that there were signs of it being refurbished—fresh mortar between stones on the walls was lighter gray and without cracks. Some of the wooden stall doors looked new, their catches and hinges shiny and untouched by time.
“How old is the barn?” she asked, realizing the boys were nowhere in sight.
“The buildings on the property date back to the 1850s.”
“You bought a piece of history.”
“That’s the way I look at it. That’s why I didn’t raze everything to the ground and start over. I liked building on what was here, making the old stand up to the test of time. Do you know what I mean?”
“I do. It’s nice to know something will last with a little help.” As she took in the stalls and the feed barrels, she asked, “Where are the boys and their shovels?”
Shep shook his head. “I know where they are. Come on.” He led her past the tack room, and when they rounded the corner, she saw Joey and Roy leaning over a pile of hay bales. The hay was stacked wide and high. But the boys were sort of in the middle of it, two bales up, peeking over the edge of one bale.
“Kittens?” she guessed.
Shep nodded, smiling. “You have been around barns. They wanted to bring them up to the house, but I told them the babies are still too little. They haven’t even learned how to climb out of their nest yet. Give them a few more weeks and they’ll probably be sleeping with the boys.”
“You sound resigned.”
He chuckled. “I know kids can get attached to animals. Pets can give them security, so I’m all for it.”
Without thinking twice, Raina climbed up the bale and sat next to Joey. She peered over the edge and saw a mama cat nursing four little ones whose eyes were barely open.
“They know where to go to eat,” Roy told her, as if that was important information.
Joey added, “Dad says we shouldn’t touch them until they climb out. Their mama wouldn’t like it.”
“Your dad’s probably right. The mama cat might move them and then you wouldn’t be able to find them.”
“Until they’re old enough to run around,” Joey said, as if he were challenging her.
“Yep, that’s true. But in here they’re protected from the weather and anything else that might bother them. So it’s a good place.”
Joey seemed to think about that. “Yeah. I like the barn. It’s even neater when the horses are in here making noises.”
“I’ll bet,” Raina responded, holding back a grin.
“Come on, boys. If we don’t get those stalls cleaned out before lunch, you don’t go on a trail ride,” Shep reminded them.
Without grumbling, they crawled down the bales, rushed into the tack room and emerged with three shovels. Roy handed one of them to Raina. “Dad uses a pitchfork, but he won’t let us touch that.”
“It’s locked in the tool closet,” Shep explained. “I’ll go get it and meet you at stall one.”
Chores went quickly, and Raina noticed Shep did most of the work. He wanted the boys involved, to have a good work ethic, but he wouldn’t give them more than they could handle.
By the time they reached the third stall, Roy was slowing down.
Raina said, “Why don’t I give you a hand?” She put her shovel aside and stood behind Roy, helping him scoop and carry to the outside bucket.
He grinned up at her. “That was easier.”
Joey didn’t say a word, but there was no indication he resented his little brother having help when he didn’t.
When they’d finished with the third stall, however, Shep suggested, “Let’s take a break. Go on up to the house and tell Eva we’re ready for lunch. Wash up. We’ll be along.”
A few minutes later, Raina stood beside Shep, watching the boys race out of the barn through the corral gate and across the lane. “They’re hard workers.”
“Yeah. And sometimes I think they’ll do anything for my approval. That’s not always a good thing.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I want them to be themselves. I want them to be who they are with each other when they’re in their room alone. When I’m around, they’re more guarded.”
“They’ve been with you what—a year and a half?”
“Yep. And you’d think they’d be more comfortable with me by now.”
It was easy to see that Shep was the strong, silent type. She wondered how much sharing he did with his boys. How much he told them what he was feeling. But she didn’t know him well enough to say that, so instead she said, “There’s distance between me and my mom, even now. But my brother and I are really close.”
“You don’t tell your mother what you’re thinking?”
“No.”
Shep didn’t ask why, and his look told her he wouldn’t pry if she didn’t want him to. So, instead of keeping her childhood hidden, as she usually did, she brought it out to examine once again. “My father was Cheyenne, and proud of it. He told me and my brother about the old ways of living, of thinking, of believing. My mother didn’t like that. She wanted us to fit in. Sometimes being proud of our heritage didn’t help us fit in. Ryder and I were often made fun of, but we had each other and I didn’t tell her about it. That sort of set the standard for our relationship. I tried to be what she wanted me to be—the perfect daughter. Daddy and I could always talk, but my mom and I couldn’t. He died when I was ten, and nothing was ever the same after that.”
Shep nodded as if he knew all too well exactly what she meant. “Did your mother work before your dad died?”
“At the library. But afterward, that wasn’t nearly enough, so she started driving a school bus, too.”
“Gutsy lady.”
“I think in her heart she always wanted to be a teacher, but never had the money to go to college. She practically runs the library now. She gave up bus driving a few years ago to take the head position.”
“She sounds as interesting as you are.”
Raina wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she fell back on what had affected her life most deeply. “My mom never got over losing my dad. It was like that part of her, the romantic side of her, just stopped existing.”
“Has that happened to you?”
Raina really had not seen the connection before, and now she did. “I think that’s happened to me because of the way Clark died.”
“I suppose that’s so. Your husband was a hero. His memory is bigger than life, so there’s no room to have a romantic dream again.”
“How do you understand that so well?”
“I’ve been around.”
Sometimes Shep’s attitude was too enigmatic, and she found herself wanting to dig down to deeper levels. So she asked a question that had been niggling at her for a long while. “If you wanted a family so badly, why didn’t you get married?”
“Because having a family didn’t depend on me marrying.”
“That’s not an answer,” she protested softly, wanting to step closer to him, and yet afraid of feelings that were starting to tickle her heart. So afraid, she wanted to run.
He seemed to have an inside battle with himself, then finally said, “I don’t trust women easily. I have good reasons to believe they leave when the going gets tough. Or they stay for the wrong reasons.”
“The wrong reasons?”
“Yeah. Things like money. Fancy cars. A house in the best neighborhood in town.”
So he’d gotten burned by a woman who had wanted what he could provide for her? Or had the trust issues started much earlier than that?
“Everyone’s got baggage, Shep. It’s what we do with it that matters.”
When he angled toward her, she wasn’t sure what was going to happen next. She was a bit surprised when he took hold of a lock of her hair and let it flutter through his fingers. “You’re a captivating woman, Raina. Do you know that?”
“No,” she said seriously. “Each day that passes I figure out more about myself.”
“What did you figure out today?” He let his hand drop and she was sorry when he did.
“I figured out that mucking out a stall is as good an exercise as I can get in a gym. And that little boys always have a next question, even when you think you’ve answered them all.”
He chuckled. “Isn’t that the truth?”
He looked as if he wanted to kiss her. To her amazement, she wanted him to do it. But why—so she could feel like a desirable woman once more? So she could really start living again? So she could wipe out some terrible memories and replace them with sparkling new ones?
Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter, because Shep took a step back. “We’d better get up to lunch before there isn’t any. Those boys have big appetites after doing chores.”
Shep had let her down easy. They’d gone back to friendly. His trust issues and her past could be hurdles that might prevent even a meaningful friendship from beginning.
What had gotten into him?
Shep gave his horse a nudge up a small hill, watching his sons in front of him as they did the same. Raina rode between Joey and Roy, talking to them as they bounced along.
Shep rarely discussed his background or his breakup with Belinda. Only with Cruz now and then. Granted, he hadn’t given Raina much, but he’d said more than enough. He wanted to forget Belinda’s gold-digging motivation for getting engaged to him…the indifference to children she’d kept well-hidden. He needed to forget that kid who’d gone through life without an adult to really care about him. He longed to forget landing in jail at the age of fourteen. He’d never tell Raina Greystone Gibson that story.
He’d been so rebellious back then. He’d hated his foster parents and their neglect. Not only of him, but of Cruz, too. Cruz had been younger, more vulnerable, not as experienced as Shep about the ins and outs of the system. Shep had felt he had to look out for him. But in protecting Cruz, he’d broken the law.
No matter their foster parents had left them alone for the weekend. No matter Cruz had taken ill and had a raging fever. No matter Shep hadn’t known what to do except hotwire that old truck and take Cruz to the closest E.R.
The chief of police had thrown him into that dirty jail cell and not cared a whit. If it hadn’t been for Matt Forester rescuing them, Shep wasn’t sure where he or Cruz would be today. Maybe in prison. Maybe on the streets.
Nope. He’d never tell Raina about that chunk of his life. She’d never understand the desperation that had driven him to rebel against authority figures for his sake as well as Cruz’s.
He’d sensed that same defiant spirit in Joey and suspected it had developed while he was in foster care.
The brothers had had loving, caring parents until they’d been killed. With no relatives to take care of them, they’d been thrust into the system. Then five, Joey had acted out, and his aggressive behavior had made placement even harder. They’d been through two foster couples before Shep had decided to take them.
He believed there were three secrets to turning kids around. Matt Forester had taught them to Shep and Cruz. You gave children safety. You gave them love. And you gave them a reason to trust you. If Shep could accomplish that, Joey, Roy and Manuel would be on their way to being confident and finding a future that fit them.
Breaking Shep’s consideration of his past and present, Joey turned around and called, “Can we show Dr. Gibson Red Creek?”
“Do you remember how to get there?”
“Yep. We go right at the bottom of this hill.”
“Lead the way.”
Joey grinned and pushed his fist up into the air, as if he’d just been given a gift. The gift of confidence, Shep hoped, as he urged his horse to catch up to Raina’s.
“They’re good riders for their age,” she remarked as the two boys trotted ahead.
“You’re pretty good yourself.”
“I must have inherited good riding genes from my ancestors who roamed the plains.”
He couldn’t tell if she was being serious or tongue-in-cheek. “You said your heritage meant a lot to your dad. Did it mean a lot to you?”
“That’s not an easy question.”
“Tell me,” he said, surprising himself. Usually when conversations with women got into sticky waters, he swam in the opposite direction. But he wanted to know more about Raina, wanted to uncover everything she kept hidden deep in her soul.
“Is it a long way to the creek?” she asked with a wry smile.
“Long enough that if you haven’t ridden for a while you’re going to be sore tomorrow.”
“I guess I’d better soak in a hot tub tonight.”
“It wouldn’t hurt.” He suddenly had visions of her sinking into a tub full of bubbles. But before she slid into those bubbles—
He had to quit imagining her in something less than a blouse and jeans.
When she canvassed his face, he wondered what she saw. He could hide quite a bit with his Stetson. Every cowboy knew how. But they were riding in the sun, and the shadows from his brim didn’t hide everything. Could she see his interest in her was physically motivated? Since Belinda’s rejection of a future he held dear, all he’d looked for from a woman was physical satisfaction.
He and Raina were so blasted different. The ways were too numerous to count. So why was he here? And why was she here?
Curiosity, pure and simple.
She was still studying him when he said, “You changed the subject.”
“You helped it along.”
