Rebecca Winters: Her Wyoming Hero

“Much as I’d like to drop in tonight, I won’t be able to,” he said, trying to let her down gently. “A new family of a fallen marine just arrived in Jackson this afternoon. They’re our guests on the dude ranch for a while and I’m in charge. Thanks for the dancing. It was fun.”

The eagerness faded from her voice. “In other words you’re not coming back anytime soon.”

No. The attraction simply wasn’t there. He’d been with a lot of women since coming to Wyoming, but so far all his relationships had been fleeting. “You never know. It’s a busy time on the ranch. See you around, Cindy.”

Without wasting any more time, Ross phoned the oil company he’d been researching and arranged for a meeting on Monday out at the site. Then he hung up and set his watch alarm. The medicine was working on him, making him drowsy. He closed his eyes, realizing that when he was awakened in an hour, he’d be seeing Kit Wentworth again. The thought shouldn’t matter to him, but somehow it did.

* * *

KIT WATCHED HER son go through the DVDs in the entertainment center. “Have you seen a movie you’d like to watch?” She got up from the kitchen table with a granola bar in her hand to look through the stack with him. The luxury of them being free like this had already gone to her head.

“How about Up? I know you haven’t seen that one.” The grandparents had his life so regimented, he rarely found time to watch TV or films.

“No. That’s a dumb kid’s movie.”

“Dumb” had made up most of his vocabulary since he’d found out they were coming to the ranch. Kit had hoped a new adventure might put him in a little happier mood. But it was possible the few friends his grandparents allowed him to play with had said something negative about going to a dude ranch and he was only echoing their comments.

Kit’s eyes took in the attractive surroundings. All the comforts of home were included in this small rectangular log cabin: a table and minifridge, a couch and upholstered chairs in front of the fireplace. After living in the Wentworth mausoleum, she loved its rustic simplicity and the lightness of the decor.

Everything a person needed was right here, reminding her of the tiny home she’d once lived in with her grandmother in Point Judith, Rhode Island, where she’d been happy. It was there she’d met Winn.

The Blue Attic Book Shop where she’d worked had an outdoor display of discounted books. She’d been busy taking them all inside when Winn had walked by and begun chatting her up. He’d taken out one of the family yachts from Bar Harbor and had sailed down the coast with his friends. They’d pulled in at Point Judith to eat dinner. But he hadn’t told her that information at the time and had only explained he and some buddies had been out sailing.

Kit had fallen hard for him and they’d married soon after. He’d taken his nineteen-year-old bride home to meet his family in Maine. They’d ended up living there in a controlling world of wealth and privilege she grew to detest.

It devastated her that the twenty-two-year-old man with the sun-kissed blond hair, smiling eyes and dark tan she’d fallen in love with had changed so much after they’d exchanged vows. Once under his parents’ thumb, nothing she’d done had been right. The way she’d looked and behaved hadn’t satisfied him.

In an effort to please him, she’d transformed herself into the woman he’d seemed to want, a style maven like his mother Florence, or his two older married sisters, Corinne and Sybil, who considered themselves the original aristocrats of Bar Harbor. Still, Kit had never fit in.

After Andy had been born, Winn hadn’t shown as much interest in her except when they’d gone to the family’s various exclusive clubs where they’d been seen in public. Then it had all been show. They’d grown so far apart, she’d begged for them to get a home of their own. His sisters and their husbands had their own homes. But Winn had told her there was no reason for them to move when they were living in the mansion and offered every luxury.

The years had gone by—empty years for her. Winn’s long deployments in the military had driven them further apart. When she’d found the courage to tell him she wanted a divorce, he’d told her the Wentworths didn’t divorce. If she filed, she’d lose Andy because he wouldn’t let her take him anywhere.

As a member of the family now, she had the responsibility of carrying on as his wife and widow. The man she’d married had disappeared, never to return. The best part of him, the part she preferred to remember, lived in Andy.

But her son’s life had been strung out with long periods of waiting for his father to come home on leave. Even when he came, they hadn’t spent enough quality time together because his parents had had other plans for him. For the long months in between visits, Andy had been expected to mind his grandparents who ruled his life.

She’d cried herself to sleep at night for years worrying about her darling son. Though he would be good-looking like Winn when he was grown, it wouldn’t be long before he turned into a clone of his rigid grandfather.

Kit had kept her demons hidden from Andy the best she could, but now that they were here, she would have the conversation with him she’d been waiting for since Winn’s death. Maybe tomorrow or the next day when he’d had a good sleep and was more relaxed.

She went in the bedroom to open one of the suitcases. After gathering up some items, she put them on the bedside table in their room. Besides a pocket radio, there was a photograph of Winn and another of her grandmother. She carried some treasured books to the living room. Kit planned to read aloud to Andy if he’d let her.

Once that was done, she went to the bathroom to brush her hair. When she came out she said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Let’s walk to the ranch house.” He mumbled something and went out the door. She followed with the cabin card key Mr. Livingston had left on the table and made sure the place was locked before starting off.

The magnificent Tetons were right there in her vision, stunning her with their beauty. They headed for the fabulous ranch house in the distance. She was reminded of one like it on the cover of one of her favorite Louis L’Amour Western novels. That was among the books she’d packed for this trip.

Kit had loved books in her early teens and had grown into a voracious reader. Her grandmother had gotten her hooked on all kinds of fiction, especially Westerns. One of the rooms in the house she’d rented had been turned into a virtual library.

After her grandmother died, Kit had kept a few favorites and donated the rest to the bookshop where she’d worked. The owner had allowed her to establish a lending library with the understanding that Kit would take the collection back when she had her own place. Winn didn’t want them at the mansion. It almost killed her when last year she’d found out the shop had been sold and turned into a restaurant. All those precious books were gone....

Just seeing the ranch house with the pines clustered around the side brought back fond memories for the girl who’d grown up on the cape of Point Judith with her sweet grandmother and her books. But besides horses, this Western scene included the Jeep and all sorts of modern vehicles that must have belonged to the staff.

They followed some other guests inside and entered a large foyer. The mid-twenties guy behind the front desk flashed her a friendly smile loaded with a lot of male interest, the flattering kind. “Hi! Can I help you?”

“Yes. I’m Kit Wentworth, and this is my son, Andy. Mr. Livingston told us to meet him here for dinner.”

His eyes widened. “You’re our special guests from Maine?”