Anne Eames - A Marriage Made In Joeville

“I’ll give Josh a hand first, then see to the fence.” He scraped off his other boot and looked off at Buck working a horse around the ring. “There’s some new quarter horses up for bid in Billings. I was thinking of driving over tomorrow for a look...unless you want to handle it yourself.”

Shane regarded him for a moment, then turned his back to the rail and hooked his elbows over the side. “Nah. You go ahead. If you find anything, we could use about four.”

Ryder knew the significance of Shane’s trust. Horses were his first love—his and Buck’s. In the tradition of the Crow tribe, Buck knew his horses, and he’d always shared his vast knowledge with Shane. Their special bond had angered Ryder when he was a kid. Now he understood it was envy, not anger. Buck was the dad Shane had needed at the time. At least his brother had found someone.

Ryder studied Shane’s rugged profile, noticing the deep lines at the corner of his eye etched against wind-and sunbrowned skin. He closed his eyes and tilted his high cheekbones to the sun, looking as untroubled as ever. He was seven years Joshua’s senior and only three, Ryder’s. Ryder looked at his boots and turned over a few stones. Maybe if he’d been the mature son like Shane, instead of the rebellious teenager, he could have stayed at the ranch, too. Detroit may as well have been Siberia, except for that special friend of his....

“Well...” Shane pushed off the fence. “If we’re going to get anything done, we can’t stand around here working on our tan.” He started to walk away, then stopped. “By the way, what do you think of the new cook?”

Ryder flashed him his best bad-boy smile. “Many fine attributes...but I’m sure you noticed.”

“Yeah, I noticed. I also noticed she couldn’t keep her eyes off you.”

“Really?” This was news to him. If anything, he thought he sensed an air of hostility.

“Probably wouldn’t help any to encourage her, now would it?” Shane leveled a stern look on him that reminded him of their father, a look that set his teeth on edge.

“I think I’m old enough to handle my own affairs, bro.” He turned and walked toward the equipment bam, but he heard Shane’s muttered response behind him.

“Yeah, we’ve all heard about your affairs, little brother. Just don’t make this one another.”

The business of repacking her Pontiac at the motel took .no time at all. Except for the two suitcases she used last night, the rest of her belongings were still bunched snugly in the trunk of her car. She’d cut the tape on the boxes, looking for the ones that held her own clothes, but since she’d found none, she’d felt no need to drag them into Big Beak Motel. Fortunately she had a few of her things in her suitcases—nightshirts, underwear, shoes and her favorite Michigan sweatshirt.

Essie eyed the Michigan logo a moment before closing the lid. So far she’d avoided mention of her home state. If she wore the sweatshirt, the questions would surely come. She could always say it was a gift from her best friend, Jenny, who went to school there. After all, it was true. Yes. That’s exactly what she’d do if the need arose.

She took her time placing the bags in her car before ambling down to the office and paying her bill.

“Leavin’ already?” The clerk with the missing teeth showed no sign of vanity as he smiled broadly at her.

“I got a job in Joeville.” She looked around his tacky office. Dusty animal heads of every variety covered the dark paneled walls. The ranch was definitely a step up, way up, though she’d miss this old geezer. He’d made her feel right at home from the second she’d signed in.

“Joeville!” His tired eyes widened. He suddenly seemed concerned. “Hope ya mean at the Malone place.”

“Yep. That’s the place.” She pocketed her receipt and watched his worry lines relax. “Why? Is there another?”

“Well...uh, well, there’s the Purple Palace.” He gave her a dismissive wave. “I was sure ya didn’t mean there.” He kept his head down, busying himself with mail. “You’ll be real happy at the Malones’.” He looked up and flashed her another smile.

She thought about asking him about this Purple Palace, but she was eager to begin her journey. She walked to her car, feeling a little awkward for leaving, as if she were abandoning this lonely guy for greener pastures, which was exactly what she was doing.

He shouted after her. “Stop by and say howdy if ya ever nearby.”

She waved back at him and kept moving. “I will.” She got into her car and drove off, her mood an odd mix of sadness and excitement. She’d only spent two nights at Big Beak, but the old guy acted as though she were family, a trait she’d noticed often the farther west she’d traveled. Out here people looked her in the eye and seemed to care when they said hello. There was no rush, no harried business that couldn’t wait. So unlike Detroit. Not that she didn’t like Detroit, she admonished herself. Its pulse kept her moving, working, searching....

Another mile and Essie edged off the highway and killed the ignition, a little rattled by her last thought.

Searching? Now where did that come from? She let the word tumble and chum awhile, testing its validity. She stared through the gritty windshield, then finally expelled a long breath. Yes, it was true. All her life she’d been searching, not just for another Ryder Malone, as foolish as that seemed now, but for something far more important. And now here, in this ranging wilderness, she felt certain she knew what that something was.

Peace of mind.

As though emerging from a dream, she stepped from her car and took in the endless blue sky, an eerie awareness seeping into her.

Jenny had been right. She was never going back.

Even though the noonday sun shimmered heat waves off the asphalt, Essie hugged herself and shivered. The vastness of the sky and rolling planes gobbled her up, making her one with it. Through the bottoms of her thin-soled sandals, she felt the pebbled earth beneath her, its depth and firmness coalescing, already sprouting the roots she’d subconsciously sought.

She’d never felt so at peace.

Somehow she placed herself behind the wheel of her car and continued on. She’d driven this road only this morning, but then she’d been nervous, filled with apprehension and anxiety, afraid what might happen when she saw Ryder after all these years. She was still afraid, mostly that time would change nothing, that he would never be the man she’d dreamed of. Yet she knew it was too soon for such thoughts. If she’d lived through twelve years of fantasies, certainly he was worth twelve weeks of observation. After that, or before if need be, she would find a place of her own. But one thing was indisputable: Ryder or no Ryder, Montana would forever be her home. How she knew this with such certainty, or how Jenny had known it before, seemed insignificant.

It was true.

She backed off the accelerator and studied the vista, familiarizing herself with her new home, growing more comfortable with each passing mile of wildflowers. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she was aware of the deception that lay ahead—not just the times when she would actually have to prepare meals, but, worse, when she would have to face Ryder with her true identity. She tucked these worries away, determined to enjoy the moment. Carpe diem. When was the last time she’d seized the day? She couldn’t remember. Smiling, she drove on.

At long last she knew the source of Ryder’s wistful smile—the one she’d remembered so long ago whenever he spoke of home, and the generations of Malones who worked and loved this God-touched wilderness. The closer she got to the ranch, the more she felt the pieces of his heritage seep into her, and she knew her decision to stay had been the right one.