Tina Radcliffe - The Rancher's Reunion

Silence stretched between them.

Annie tipped her head back against the seat. Running? The man thought he had all the answers. This time he was much too close to the truth. “Will,” she pleaded.

“Okay, you’re right. Now isn’t the time.” He let out a breath. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll say you are,” she said, taking a light tone again. “One sorry Sullivan.”

“Hey, I’m trying to apologize here.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me. Keep shooting straight. I count on that from you. Give me a few days. Let me rest, clear my mind and sharpen my wits, then we can have this conversation. Deal?”

“Always have to have the last word.”

She opened her mouth to protest, then clamped her lips shut.

Will laughed.

The sound warmed her like a quilt as her gaze found the May moon.

has been dreaming and scribbling for years. Originally from western New York State, she left home for a tour of duty with the Army Security Agency stationed in Augsburg, Germany, and ended up in Tulsa, Oklahoma. While living in Tulsa she spent ten years as a Certified Oncology R.N. A former library cataloguer, she now works for a large mail-order pharmacy. Tina currently resides in the foothills of Colorado where she writes heartwarming romance.

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Take thereof no thought for the morrow:

for the morrow shall take thought of the things of itself.

—Matthew 6:34

To my husband, Tom, my sister Anne, my parents, Joseph and Teresa Russo, and to Tim, Mike, David and Amy—thank you all for understanding this writing thing of mine (or pretending to!).

I love you.

Thank you to my editor Melissa Endlich, for helping me to become a better writer, and for the wonderful opportunity to be part of the Steeple Hill family.

To Meredith Bernstein, thank you for your patience.

A final thank-you to my writing friends for their support and encouragement: The Seekers (www.seekerville.blogspot.com), Sharon Sala, Jordan Dane (and the OKRWA Chapter), and my longtime writing bud, Rogenna Brewer.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

Questions for Discussion

“You look awful.” Will Sullivan shoved his hands into the back pockets of his Wranglers and continued his intense scrutiny.

“Well, you haven’t changed a bit,” Annie Harris said with a laugh. Leave it to Will to cut to the chase.

In truth, he hadn’t changed. He was everything she remembered. Hatless today, his blue-black hair was clipped short to control the unruly curls. Will thought he could control everything. Standing inches over six feet tall in a faded blue oxford shirt, jeans and scuffed boots, he scowled.

Annie took an unsteady breath. Oh, how she had missed that scowl.

She gripped her cane tighter and glanced around the busy Tulsa airport. Had it really been two years? For only a second did she allow her thoughts to drift back to when she made the decision to leave for Kenya. The same day she realized she was in love with Will Sullivan.

“Sit down for a minute,” Will said, interrupting her thoughts. “You’ve got to be exhausted.”

“I’m okay. Really. The hospital wouldn’t have okayed me to travel if I wasn’t ready. Come on. Let’s get my luggage and get out of here.”

“Your leg? Maybe I should get a wheelchair?”

“Oh, I don’t need a wheelchair.” Determined, she grasped her cane and broke out in what she knew was a clumsy stride.

“Boy, you haven’t changed much either, have you, Annie?” His long legs easily closed the distance between them. “Still think you have to do it all yourself.”

Annie ignored the comment. She’d been traveling since she left Africa two days ago and was not prepared for a round of verbal sparring with Will.

They continued to walk down the large corridor until it forked. Annie stopped and rested her weight on her good leg while she read the signs overhead.

“This way.” Will nodded to the right and walked in front, clearing a path in the hurried, late-afternoon crowds of the terminal. “Slow down,” he admonished, as she caught up with him and began to take the lead.

She tried to accommodate, but her pace continued to increase, driving her. Excitement bubbled over. All she wanted was to get to Sullivan Ranch.

“So how was the flight?”

“Much too long.” Looking around, she couldn’t stop smiling. Her senses greedily feasted on the American sights and sounds. It was the simple things she’d missed; the twang of an Oklahoma accent, the U.S. flag hanging high in the terminal, a sign advertising Mazzio’s pizza, the chatter of the crowd in English, and American food.

The tantalizing aroma of a bagel kiosk caused a pause in her steps. Onion, chive and garlic. They all called out to her.

“Want one?”

“I do. But not one. At least six.”

“Six it is.”

When Will stepped toward the kiosk, she laughed. “I’m kidding, Will. I don’t want to eat anything until we get to the ranch.”

“All right, but it’s way past dinnertime, and you sure don’t look like you need to be skipping any more meals.”

“Are you calling me skinny?” She glanced down at herself. True, her clothes were a bit roomy, but she was alive and that was what really mattered.

“Turn sideways and you’ll disappear.”

“Someone is exaggerating.” Looking up, she caught the amusement in Will’s expression

“Not hardly,” he said.

Annie held up her palm. “Okay. Truce? Just for tonight?”

“I suppose so. But that won’t be much fun.” He strode toward baggage claim.

Annie paused, taken back by his humor. The ever-stoical Will Sullivan had cultivated a sense of humor? Shaking her head, she followed him. “Is Rose at the house?”

“Are you kidding? Baking and cooking like crazy. She’s got plans for you.”

Annie smiled, knowing he wasn’t exaggerating. Rose O’Shea was so much more than just the woman who ran the kitchen at Sullivan Ranch, and Annie couldn’t wait to see her again.

Will stopped at the baggage carousel.

“Those are mine.” She pointed to the well-worn tapestry bags.

“Got ’em.” He easily hauled both bags off the moving conveyer as though they were empty. Hardly. Amazing how much she’d collected in two years. The rest of her belongings were shipped out in a trunk to arrive later.

With one bag under his arm, the other dangling from his hand, Will maneuvered out the automatic doors to the curb, where he parked the luggage.