Carolyne Aarsen - Reunited with the Cowboy

“Pwease. Go for wide.”

John shifted to accommodate Adana’s sudden movement, then reluctantly let Heather take her out of his arms. Somehow, in spite of the woman’s hesitation around his daughter, Adana seemed to connect with her.

Heather held her for a moment, looking down at her. The tiny quiver of her lips was the faintest tell, raising a host of other questions. There was more to this than mere discomfort around children. There was real pain in her eyes.

But as Monty called out to him again, John knew this wasn’t the time or place to find out.

Besides, he didn’t have the right to pry into her personal life, he reminded himself as he watched her gently place Adana back in the wagon. He had to keep her at a distance. He had plans for his life, and she would only complicate them.

She gave him a forced smile that he sensed was more for show than anything, then picked up the wagon handle and walked past him.

He didn’t plan to watch her leave, but couldn’t keep his eyes from following her slim form, her blond hair flowing down her back, glistening in the sun as she headed toward Keira’s workshop.

Monty walked over to find out what the delay was. “Everything okay?” he asked John, glancing from him to Heather.

“Yeah. Heather is taking care of Adana. She just brought her by to say hi.”

John saw Monty watching him, his eyes intent.

They were both quiet a moment, as if measuring each other.

“Heather hasn’t told us much about her life in New York, but her mother and I sense she’s had a tough go the past few years,” the older man said quietly, folding his arms over his chest, his eyes slipping back to Heather. “Mitch wasn’t good for her. She’s a very wounded soul.”

John sensed a warning in Monty’s voice, and wanted to remind him that he had tried to tell Heather not to go with Mitch to New York. Not to believe the promises he had made her.

But he kept his comments to himself, aware of how precarious his current situation was. Even though Heather had been the one to break up with him, his love for her had never been a secret on the Bannister ranch. When Mitch had come to Saddlebank the first time and swept Heather off her feet, Monty had been the one to commiserate with John.

Now, it seemed, he was obliquely warning him to keep his distance.

“If that’s the case, Heather will need this time with your family to recuperate before she moves on,” John said. “And I wish her only the best in everything she does.” He met and held Monty’s gaze. “As for me, I have Adana to take care of right now.”

The rancher smiled carefully and nodded. “Of course you do.” He shifted his hammer from one hand to the other. “I guess we should get this fence fixed before the day slips away from us.”

He walked away. But in spite of Monty’s warnings, John couldn’t prevent another glance over his shoulder to where Heather had stopped and was lifting Adana out of the wagon.

Their eyes met across the yard and once again John felt as if time had wheeled backward. His foolish heart gave a thump.

He had to focus on Adana.

His and Sandy’s daughter, he reminded himself. A woman who was faithful and true.

And uncomplicated.

Chapter Four

Adana toddled around the saddle workshop, jingling the bell that Keira had given her. Sugar, the farm dog, followed her around the room as if guarding her.

“She’s such a cutie patootie,” Keira said, laughing as Adana stopped to tug on the stirrup of a saddle that Keira had been working on.

“She is,” Heather said, letting the melancholy note she struggled so hard to keep at bay slip into her voice as she leaned against the workbench.

Her sister had been cutting some leather for a saddle when she and Adana came into the shop, but had gladly taken a break.

Keira shot her a sharp look. “Are you okay? You seem upset.”

Heather tried to brush off her concern. “It’s just hard...coming back.”

Keira boosted herself up on the bench, as if settling in for a chat. “Coming back to the ranch or coming back to John?”

“That was a long time ago,” she said, trying to sound more casual than she felt. “Besides, we’ve both moved on. He has Adana and I have a new career I’m trying to get established.”

“But he’s a widower and you’re divorced.”

“Not going down that road again,” she said with a degree of finality.

Adana giggled and shook her bell again. Heather felt her heart compress at the sound.

“There’s something else happening,” Keira pressed. “You seem so sad. You look tired and seem as if you’ve lost weight.”

Heather gave her sister a reassuring grin. “That’s music to any model’s ears.”

But Keira didn’t smile at her feeble joke, just wrapped her arm around Heather’s shoulders. “We’ve got lots to catch up on, you know.”

“I know we do,” she agreed, slipping her own arm around Keira’s waist and returning her hug. “I’m glad to be around you again.”

Adana giggled, and Heather sighed lightly.

“There’s something else going on. Tell me,” Keira said.

Heather didn’t want to go back there, to that place, but she also knew her sister wouldn’t quit until she told her.

“It’s just that Adana is the same age as my...” Heather’s voice quavered, but she was determined not to break down. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m so weepy.”

Keira’s features crumpled as she tightened her arm. “Oh, honey. I never thought...never even put it together.”

“It’s okay.” Heather cut her off, surprised at the way her throat seemed to close up. “It was two years ago. And it wasn’t as if the baby was full-term.” But she pressed her lips together again, blaming the weariness that had clung to her all morning for her wavering feelings.

She hadn’t slept much last night, her thoughts a tangle of old emotions, memories and new difficulties. She had left New York determined to start over. To be independent.

But it seemed that in the space of twelve hours her new start had been easily derailed. Now she had no job, no car and no real prospects on the horizon. Her life was the same jumbled mess as when she’d been living with her biological mother, then with Mitch.

And now seeing Adana, she was faced with the reminder of two of the biggest losses in her life: her baby and John.

“You were far enough along that Mom was buying wool to knit baby sweaters.” Keira squeezed Heather’s shoulders. “I wish you would have come home after you lost the baby. I know Mom had a hard time with it all. I mean, first grandchild and all, so I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for you, stuck by yourself in that apartment in New York.”

Heather sucked in a long, deep breath, wishing she could erase the sadness that clawed at her. “It was hard. But you know, if I’d had the baby, it would have meant I would always be connected to Mitch.”

“I thought you said he never really wanted kids.”

“He didn’t, but he’s manipulative enough that he would have exercised every right he felt was his.”

“Mitch was a jerk. Actually, he probably still is,” Keira proclaimed. “I know it’s hard for you to be divorced. I’m still glad you two are done.”

Heather nodded, recognizing the truth in those words, but unable to repress the ever-present shame that came with the choices she had made.

“Have you talked to Mitch at all since...”

“Since the divorce?” She shook her head. “No. Once everything was over, I told him that I didn’t want to have anything more to do with him. It’s been a relief not seeing him.”

That was so true, in spite of the other actuality of the divorce. The fact that Mitch had cleaned out the bank account she had so painstakingly built up. The thought could still send shame blasting through her, hot, destructive and pointless.