Linda Warren - Tomas - Cowboy Homecoming

A flashback hit him. He hadn’t had one in months. He could see the little girl in Afghanistan, hear the rapid spatter of gunfire, the shouts, the screams and then an unholy silence. Stopping the truck in the middle of the road, he gripped the steering wheel with clammy hands. He took a quick breath and closed his eyes, forcing happier memories into his mind as his counselor had taught him.

He was fishing on Thunder Creek with his dad. “Come on, boy. The big ones bite early. Throw your line next to that old stump.” Tuf would grin and throw the line where his father had showed him.

“That’s my boy.”

He opened his eyes as the flashback ebbed away. The little girl trekked forward in the snow, a good distance from him now. He eased the truck closer and got out.

What was she doing out here all alone? Buddy Wright’s was the closest place, and he didn’t have any young kids Tuf knew about.

“Hey,” he called, but the girl ignored him. She did move farther into the ditch, though. His boots slipped and slid on the snow-slick blacktop, but he made it to her without falling on his ass. “Hey, what are you doing out here?”

The little girl frowned up at him, her green eyes narrowed. “I’m not ’posed to talk to strangers.”

“Listen…”

“Sadie! Sadie!” a frantic voice called, and Tuf turned his head to see a woman running toward them. She was dressed in a denim skirt, brown boots, a suede vest and a white blouse. No coat. And the temperature was below freezing. Her deep red hair, the color of cinnamon, glistened with snow.

Cheyenne Wright.

He’d know her anywhere.

Even though she was a year younger, he’d had a huge crush on her in high school. Since he was a bareback rider and she was a barrel racer, he saw her often at rodeos. He had asked her out twice and she’d said no both times. Figuring third time’s a charm, he’d asked again and got the same answer. Puzzled and frustrated he’d asked why. Her response was “I don’t like you, Tuf Hart.”

That had dented his puffed-up seventeen-year-old ego. He didn’t get it. He was reasonably good-looking, well liked by everyone in school and he had his own pickup. Back then that was a sure thing to get a date. Not with Cheyenne. But he didn’t think it to death because he was aware the Hart and Wright families didn’t get along.

Buddy was an alcoholic and had served time in prison for stealing cattle. John Hart hadn’t wanted the man on his property. So Tuf, as teenage boys are known to do, moved on. He never forgot the shy, untouchable Cheyenne, though.

Since he was twenty-eight, she had to be about twenty-seven now, and she still looked the same with dark red hair and green eyes. And a slim curved body he’d spent many nights dreaming about.

She squatted and pulled the child into her arms. At that point, Tuf noticed an identical little girl running to catch up to Cheyenne. Twins. This one had the hood over her head and was bundled up tight in a pink winter coat.

“Mommy,” the second twin cried.

“It’s all right, Sammie,” Cheyenne said in a soothing, soft voice. “I found Sadie.” Cheyenne brushed the snow from Sadie’s hair and covered it with the hood, securing it with the drawstring. Her fingers shook from the cold as she touched Sadie’s red cheeks. “I’ve been looking all over for you. What are you doing out here?”

“I’d like to know that, too.”

Cheyenne stood, holding on to the girls’ hands. Her eyes narrowed much as her daughter’s had. The sparkling green eyes of the cool, aloof Cheyenne from high school were gone. Now he saw only disillusionment in their depths. A look he knew well. He saw it every morning when he looked in the mirror. What had happened to her life?

“I’ll take care of my daughter,” she replied, as cool as the snowflakes falling on her hair.

“I hope you do. I could have hit her. Anyone driving on this road could have, and then two lives would have been changed forever.”

“I’m sorry if she disturbed…your drive.”

He heard the derision in her voice and he relented a little. “It’s dangerous out here.”

“I’m aware of that.” She looked down at her daughters and ignored him, much as she had in high school. “Let’s go home where it’s warm.” They walked away, Cheyenne holding the girls’ hands.

“I didn’t talk to him, Mommy, ’cause he’s a stranger,” Sadie said.

“Good, baby.”

Cheyenne started to run and the girls followed suit. Sadie glanced back at him as they disappeared into the Wrights’ driveway.

Tuf pulled his sheep-lined jacket tighter around him to block the chill of a Montana December.

Welcome home, Tuf.

Some things just never changed. Cheyenne still didn’t like him.

* * *

CHEYENNE USHERED THE GIRLS into the living room and sat them down by the fire. For a moment she let her chilled body soak up the warmth. When she stopped trembling, she hurried to the bathroom for a towel. Rushing back, she removed the girls’ new Christmas coats and dried Sadie’s hair and face, as well as her own. Her clothes were damp and she needed to change, but she had to talk to Sadie first.

She sat between them. “Sadie, baby, why do you keep running away?”

Sadie shrugged.

Cheyenne brushed back one of Sadie’s flyaway curls. “Mommy is worried. Please stop this.”

Sammie crawled into her lap. “I won’t run away, Mommy.”

She kissed Sammie’s warm cheek. Their father’s death had affected the girls so differently. Sammie clung to her while Sadie was defiant and seemed determined to get away from her. Cheyenne was at her wit’s end trying to get Sadie to talk about what was bothering her.

Gathering the girls close, she whispered, “I love you guys.”

“I love you, too, Mommy.” Sammie was quick to say the words.

Fat tears rolled from Sadie’s eyes. “I…I…” she blubbered.

Cheyenne held her tighter, feeling hopeless. Why couldn’t she help her child? She smoothed Sadie’s hair and kissed her forehead. “You love Mommy?”

Sadie nodded and Cheyenne held her daughters, wondering how she was ever going to reach Sadie. The fire crackled with renewed warmth, and she leaned against her dad’s recliner holding the two most important people in the world to her. They snuggled against her.

Cheyenne’s body was so cold she didn’t think she’d ever get warm again. The fear in her slowly subsided. They’d been in town and on the way home when Sammie suddenly had to go to the bathroom. Running into the house, she’d turned on the TV for Sadie and helped Sammie out of her coat. When they’d come out of the bathroom, Sadie was gone. Cheyenne was frantic, calling and calling for Sadie.

It wasn’t the first time Sadie had disappeared, and Cheyenne had tried to breathe past the fear. But Sadie wasn’t in the yard or at the barn. Sammie trailed behind her crying. Cheyenne made her go back into the house for her coat. It was cold. The only place left was the road, and it had started to snow again.

When she saw a truck stopped and a man talking to her child, real terror had leaped into her throat. She had to do better than this.

And the man had turned out to be Tuf Hart, the last person she’d thought she would ever see again. She was too worried about Sadie to give him much thought. He’d changed, but she still knew who he was. He was the only man who ever made her nervous and excited at the same time. One thing was clear, though: the skinny, affable boy from school had returned a man, with broad shoulders and a muscled body that was toned from rigorous training. She knew that from her marine husband, Ryan. He’d hated the training, but Tuf seemed to have flourished in it.

Tuf is home.

His family would be so relieved. He’d called his mom two years ago to let her know he was out of the marines and okay. After that, there’d been no word until his cousin Beau had seen him at a rodeo in November. Tuf still didn’t come home, though. The family was worried. Understandably so. Beau had assured the family that Tuf looked fine. Cheyenne could attest to that. Tuf Hart looked very fine. Yet different somehow. Being a marine changed men. It had changed Ryan and not for the better. Mentally it had destroyed him. And their marriage.