Hometown Hearts

She didn’t seem to know what to say. She opened her mouth, hesitated, bit her bottom lip for a moment. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. You have the most wonderful girls.”

“You don’t know them like I do.” Those words had sounded lighter in his head, but on his voice they seemed to weigh down like iron. Unlikable, remote, unfeeling iron.

“Daddy, Tomasina’s better.” Julianna bounced away to hold out her hand to one of the nearby dogs. “Cheyenne says she has a good chance. If she lives, we can put her back in her nest.”

“Her mother won’t take her now,” he blurted out, realizing too late what he’d said. He prayed his comment wouldn’t remind the girls of what they’d lost. A mother who had only part-time interest in them.

“Actually, that’s not true.” Cheyenne Granger looked all too happy to correct him. “Julianna knows where the nest is, so we should be able to return the baby to her home. Once Tomasina is back with her siblings, she should be just fine. They are probably looking around the nest wondering where she is.”

“Or saying she shouldn’t have misbehaved, which made her fall out of the nest in the first place,” Jenny supplied with a faint grin. “I have a lot of experience with siblings.”

He ruffled Jenny’s hair. “That’s a relief. Under no circumstances are we keeping a bird in the house.”

“It wouldn’t be right to keep her locked up,” Julianna informed him. “God meant for her to fly in the sky. She would be sad in a cage.”

“That’s right.” Cheyenne’s gentleness drew his attention.

There was something luminous about her and he had noticed it before. When he’d seen her last, she had been wearing a bridesmaid’s dress at the family wedding he’d attended a while ago. He couldn’t forget the way she’d stood out to him above all the other women in the room. He was not so good with words, which had been one of Stacy’s greatest complaints about him. His lack of words became a problem again as silence settled in, but the beautiful veterinarian didn’t seem bothered by it. She knelt to catch Julianna’s chin with both of her slender, gentle hands, a show of affection that surprised him.

“You keep right on helping animals. You call me anytime, got it?” She was at ease with his daughters, sharing a smile with Julianna and then with Jenny.

“Okay, I will. Animals just find me.”

“More like you find them,” Jenny corrected and shared an understanding smile with Cheyenne. He appreciated her kindness to his girls.

“Adam, this visit is entirely on me. You won’t be billed.” She opened and held the door for them. “Julianna and Jenny did a great job of rescuing Tomasina and getting her here safely. They saved her life. You must be proud of them.”

“I suppose I’ll keep them. For now.” He caught each girl with one arm and drew them outside into the sun and heat. He should thank the lady for her help and her gentleness to his daughters, but he wasn’t sure how that would sound. Too grateful, too familiar—would it open himself up too much?

Silence settled between them. He couldn’t ignore the wall he put up between himself and women. It was a gut reaction he didn’t know how to stop.

“Saving lives must run in the family.” Cheyenne raised a hand to shield her eyes.

“I don’t save anyone.” The words came out harsher than he meant them. Again.

“What do you mean? You saved little Owen’s life. Last winter you didn’t have to get involved when he was having problems breathing at the diner. You could have gone about your dinner, minding your own business, but you got involved. Since Owen is about to become my nephew at the end of the month, my family thinks mighty highly of you.”

“That’s because they don’t know me. Give them time and they will change their minds.” The girls broke away from him to scamper off to the car.

“You’re mighty humble for a big-city doctor.” Cheyenne squinted up at him.

“I’m not so big or humble. I do what I can, just the way you do. Life matters. That’s why I work hard at what I do.”

“Me, too.” Their gazes met and locked. Finally, she’d gotten an almost smile out of him. Adam Stone towered above her at an impressive height; he had to be about the same six foot three as her dad.

Handsome would describe him, but remarkable would be a better word. His granite face was a tad too rugged to be classically handsome, but he could outshine George Clooney and all the doctors on any medical show she’d ever watched. He wore all black from his tie to his dress shoes. Since Wild Horse was a casual place, Adam Stone was as out of water as a fish could get. He didn’t look like a kindred spirit, yet they had this in common. They both valued life; they both fought for it.

“I like making a difference and knowing I can ease suffering.” She walked with him to his door, squinting in the sunshine. “Is that why you decided to become a doctor, too?”

“I’m in it strictly for the money.” The promise of a smile dug into the corners of his mouth, dazzling enough to light up his deep brown eyes. “That’s why I came out here for the rest of the summer. Manhattan wasn’t lucrative enough.”

“Yes, and I can see Wild Horse is.” She had patients waiting, but did her feet take her back down the walkway? No. They remained stuck to the concrete, immovable. “Your workday must be a lot more leisurely here.”

“I had three appointments all day, which gives me plenty of time to get to know my new patients. It’s a change of pace.”

“I already know my patients before they walk in the door.”

“You are one of those animal people, aren’t you? You can’t walk past a furry creature without stopping to get acquainted.”

“You have no idea.” The man radiated the emotion of a mountain—solemn, somber, closed off—except for his dark eyes. Sadness lived in them, veiled and shadowed but there all the same. She didn’t know why she could read all of that. “I’ve been this way for as long as anyone can remember. Dad tells stories of me helping him doctor the cattle when I was barely old enough to talk.”

“Medicine was all I ever wanted to do, too.” He stared at the keys in hand and shrugged wide, dependable shoulders. “Best get the girls home. Thanks for, uh, saving Tomasina.”

“Anytime.” She jammed her hands into her white jacket, feeling oddly sad for the man. Everyone heard how his wife had left him and his daughters for his best friend, a fellow doctor who shared his former practice. How hard that had to have been for him, she sympathized, remembering how shattered her father had been years ago when her mother had left him for another man. Adam Stone didn’t look shattered. He seemed invincible, as if no tragedy could ever touch him.

She wanted to say something of comfort or reassurance, but she didn’t know what would possibly be appropriate. They were strangers. She knew his daughters but not the man, who managed a craggy half smile in lieu of a goodbye.

“This isn’t over yet.” She backed away, waving through the sun-streaked windshield to the girls buckled up inside the sedan. “You are invited to our family’s Fourth of July bash tomorrow.”

“Apparently there’s no getting out of it.” His wry tone held the hint of a smile although his face betrayed no emotion. He angled behind the wheel and shut the door.

That was it. No goodbye. No looking-forward-to-seeing-you-again comments. Just the hum of a finely tuned engine rolling over. She watched the luxury car sail away, the vehicle at odds with the practical pickups and four-wheel drives in the lot, out of place just like the man.

She headed back inside where her next furry patient awaited her, but she couldn’t get Adam Stone out of her mind.

“You’re a little late for supper, girl.”

She looked up at her dad’s comment, her feet dragging on the pathway from the garage to the backyard. An old maple spread broad-leafed shade over the picnic table set up on the lawn, where her family was eating. Signs of preparation for tomorrow’s bash were already up. Strings of lights hung from the porch eaves and stretched to wind around the maple’s lowest branches. A fire pit had been dug in the gravel at the edge of the lawn, stacked with wood and ready to burn.

“Long day.” Exhausted, she dropped her bag on the lawn. “Three emergencies, a packed schedule and a couple drop-ins that I worked in after hours and a rescued baby finch.”

“Tomasina?” Cady Winslow grabbed the iced tea pitcher and filled a plastic cup.

“So you heard.” Cheyenne dropped onto the seat beside her sister Addison and reached across the table to accept the iced tea Cady offered.

“Even I know who Tomasina is,” Dad quipped as he popped a barbecued potato chip into his mouth. “Julianna told me all about it when I picked Cady up just a bit ago.”

“Poor Tomasina,” Addy sympathized as she poked at her hot dog, adjusting the bun. “Is she going to make a full recovery?”

“She was doing much better when I left. Ivy volunteered to take her home. So far her prognosis is good.” She lifted the paper plate serving as a lid over her meal. The smoky scent of barbecued hot dog made her stomach rumble. The generous scoops of their housekeeper’s potato salad made her mouth water. “Mrs. Gunderson spoils us. I hope she never leaves.”

“I just gave her a raise to make sure of it.” Dad chuckled as he polished off the last of the potato salad on his plate. “I’m going in for seconds. Anyone want more?”

“I do.” Cady’s gentle green eyes softened when she focused on Dad. Honest love made her even more radiant. She rose from the bench with grace, taking her plate with her. The sun shone in the soft waves of her pretty brown hair and her sandals didn’t seem to touch the ground as she crossed the grass.

The way Dad watched the woman’s approach made Cheyenne’s vision blur. She loved that her dad had found someone to treasure him the way he deserved. It was sweet when he drew Cady toward him and they walked the rest of the distance together. The couple’s happiness lifted on the temperate breeze like the low, merry murmurings of their conversation.

“I’m glad Dad found Cady.” Addy sighed a little, too. “I’ve never seen him this happy.”

“No, neither have I. She’s good for him.”

“They are good for each other.”

They sat in silence, watching the middle-aged couple cross the porch, their quiet laughter carrying on the breeze. Dad held the screen door for his lady love.

“When do you think he is going to propose?” Addy tossed a lock of strawberry-blond hair over her shoulder, her big blue eyes full of mischief.

“How should I know? Like Dad tells me anything more than he tells you.” She clasped her hands together, wanting to say the blessing before her stomach imploded with hunger. She’d missed lunch.

“I think it will be soon. Just a guess. No, more like a wild hope.” Addy crunched on a potato chip. “I think Cady will make a good stepmom, don’t you?”

“The best.” She tried to close her eyes for the blessing, but her gaze zipped across the lawn to the house. Large picture windows looked in at the family room and gave a sliver of a view into the kitchen where Dad stole Cady’s plate, set it on the breakfast bar and pulled her into his arms. Tenderness radiated from their embrace. As their lips met, Addy sighed again.

“I don’t think Dad knows we can see him.” Cheyenne watched with interest. “We shouldn’t be spying.”

“If he doesn’t want us to spy on him, next time he should close the blinds.” Addy’s grin stretched from ear to ear, showing off the dimples she’d inherited from their father. “I think he’s getting serious.”

“I do, too.” She tried to look away, but the way her dad ended the kiss with reverence and tugged Cady against his chest, as if he cherished her above all else, made it impossible. Her father had never dated once in the seventeen years since their mother left. His heart had never recovered from the betrayal and his life had been too busy with the responsibility of raising five kids and running one of the largest ranches in White Horse County. He’d been lonely for so long.

Father, thank You for sending someone to love Dad. Thank You for sending Cady. She bowed her head, finishing the prayer with thanks for the blessings in her life, so very many blessings. She opened her eyes. Dad and Cady had stepped out of sight but the feel of their happiness remained.

“So, do you have tomorrow off for sure or not?” Addy chose another chip from the pile on her plate.

Before she could answer, a cow leaned across the wooden rails of the fence at the far edge of the lawn, pleaded with doelike eyes and gave a long, sorrowful moo.

“No chips for you, Buttercup, sorry.” Cheyenne grabbed the plastic bottle of relish and squirted it the length of her hot dog bun. “Addy, tomorrow I’m on call.”

“Bummer. You’re always on call.”

“That’s because there are two vets in a fifty-mile radius.” She traded the relish for the mayonnaise bottle and gave it a squeeze. “Nate is going to take the big animal calls, if there are any. I’m taking the small animal.”

“You look happy, too.” Addy licked barbecue seasoning off her fingertips. “It’s good to see. You must be over your broken heart.”

“Over it? I don’t even remember it.” That was what denial could do for a girl. She was the queen of denial. She could block out nearly any hurt, any heartache, any disappointment. In fact, she couldn’t even remember what had happened with what’s-his-name back in vet school. Broken heart? Her heart was just fine as long as she didn’t have to look at it. “I’m my own independent woman. What’s there not to be happy about?”

“That’s my view, too. Marriage, who needs it?” Addy reached to grab more chips from the bowl in the center of the table. “No man is going to tie me down with matrimony.”

“Me, either.” Her experience with romance had been enough to make her leery. She thought of how their mom had treated Dad and of every other person she knew who’d been disappointed by love. Her sister-in-law Rori’s first marriage hadn’t worked out, her soon-to-be sister-in-law Sierra’s husband had abandoned her with a small son to raise. She couldn’t help recalling Adam Stone’s sorrow, a shadow that remained even in full light.

She was a healer and knew some of the worst wounds were not physical. The type she did not know how to treat; she knew of no medicine that would heal them and yet injuries to the heart and spirit happened every day. They left scars in the most vulnerable places, marring the soul.

“Look at Dad.” Addy’s whisper vibrated with delight. “In front of us, he can barely even hold Cady’s hand. Like we couldn’t have guessed they were kissing in the kitchen.”

“He’s bashful,” she said because the truth bunched in her throat and she didn’t want to say those words and ruin the happy moment as Cady laughed gently. Buttercup let out another moo at not being invited to the picnic table and Dad called out to the cow in his tender, deep-noted baritone.

Dad’s wounds still affected him and made it tough for him to bare his vulnerable heart. If she looked past her own denial to how shattered she’d been when Edward broke things off with her, she felt similarly. Love that lasted and stood the test of years and hardship was rare. There was no way to tell ahead of time which relationship would endure and which would fail. That was why she was staying single for a long, long time.

Chapter Three

“Daddy, why are the cows in the road?”

“I don’t know. I’m not a cow expert.” Adam stopped in the middle of the country road, since he had no choice. The herd of black cows with snowy faces blocked both lanes. No way around them. He’d always thought cows were flighty and scattered easily but changed his mind as the herd lifted their heads unconcerned at the car’s approach. Not one animal shied or ran. On the contrary, the creatures stood their ground like living, breathing tanks.

“They shouldn’t be out of their pasture.” The click of a seat belt told him his littlest had unbuckled. Julianna poked in between the front seats, straining to see. “I don’t recognize any of them.”

“How many cows do you know?”

“The Grangers have tons of cows.” Julianna gripped the leather seats and levered herself over the console and into the passenger seat, her gaze riveted on the animals. “I know Buttercup and Jasmine and Daisy and—”

“I get the picture,” he interrupted before she could go on and name the “tons” of cows she’d been introduced to one by one. He glanced at the dashboard clock irritably. They were fashionably late, thanks to Jenny who had changed outfits more than half a dozen times before she was fit to be seen in public.

“Can I go say hi?”

“No.” He made sure the word boomed with authority. Under no circumstance was his little slip of a daughter walking up to those enormous and dangerous-looking creatures. One animal had horns sticking out of his head. That couldn’t be good. Adam hit the car horn in one long blast. Surely honking would startle them into getting out of the way.

Wrong. Instead of bolting, the cows focused on his car with pinpoint accuracy. Dozens upon dozens of brown eyes zeroed in on the newly waxed finish and plodded forward, as if mesmerized by the brightness. They created an impenetrable barrier across the road like soldiers on a march. One bold cow broke out of the pack and lapped the grill with its tongue.

What on earth? Adam hit the horn again, long and loud. That ought to scare the cow, or at least give it a reason to back off a few feet.

Wrong. Curious, the cow leaned over the hood as if trying to peer into the windshield. The cow seemed as big as a truck and he’d never seen anything in real life with such huge teeth. The mouth opened, that big head shook, a spot of drool splashed on the windshield. At the back of his mind, he remembered the televised images of bulls goring runners on the streets of Spain that had made it to the evening news.

“I wouldn’t honk again if I were you, Dad.” Jenny crossed her arms, bored in the backseat.

“Yeah, Dad. Do we have anything to eat in the car?” Julianna asked.

The enormous cow’s teeth flashed as he bit into the windshield wiper and tugged it away from the glass. It stood up at half-mast, a little crooked. Excited, other cows crowded in, trying to grab it. Tongues tugged at the side-view mirror, others licked at the paint, teeth clamped on the door handles.

Now what did he do? He saw tomorrow’s headlines in the little local paper. Sedan Demolished by Bovine Attack.

“Dad, do we have any granola bars?” Julianna giggled as a cow spotted her through the window and tried to lick at her through the glass with swipe after swipe of her big tongue. The car rocked slightly as cows bumped against it.

“You and Jenny ate them. Snacks will spoil your dinner.”

“It’s not for me.” Julianna laughed, the door popped open and the scent of sun-warmed animals and the sound of paint being licked off his new car filled the passenger compartment.

“Young lady, get back in here—” Too late. She was gone, mobbed by the huge creatures who licked at her face, grabbed hold of her pigtails and tugged on her shirt.

“Julianna!” Sheer terror shot through him. He lunged after her, caught short by the tight embrace of the seat belt. Adrenaline pumped through his system but her giggle lifted above the sound of shifting of hooves and his car being mauled.

The cows miraculously looked up and stopped attacking his vehicle. Someone knocked on his driver-side window. A woman with auburn locks and laughing blue eyes appeared through the bovine throng.

Cheyenne Granger.

“Get back, Shrek.” She approached the horned behemoth fearlessly and patted him on the nose. “I know it’s exciting to be out here on the road, but it’s not safe. I hope that windshield wiper isn’t bent.”

Contrite, the animal offered his nose for a petting.

Adam rolled down his window, hoping the fact that he had trouble breathing didn’t show. She affected him, there was no way to deny it. “I wasn’t sure what to do. Are the cows safe?”

“They are tame, but as you can see, not harmless if left to their own devices.” She shoved the windshield wiper into place. “I’ll give the Parnells a call. It looks as if Shrek took down a part of his fence. You like doing that, don’t you, buddy?”

The big black-and-white bull—yes, it was really a bull—gave a head toss and focused on the pink phone she’d pulled from her pocket. She was a vet for a reason. Her gentle confidence, her loving laugh as the cows crowded around her trying to grab her cell, the way she lit up with affection as she rubbed noses, scrubbed ears and moved aside for Julianna to join in.

“This is a regular occurrence?” His question drew one cow’s attention who came over and stuck her nose through the window. What did he do? “Shoo.”

“That’s not going to work, Dad.” Jenny’s seat belt clicked, the door whispered open and he was alone with the bovine. Rather damp lips that smelled like grass came dangerously close to his wristwatch. His oldest daughter came to the rescue with a gentle, “Come here, girl.”

He took notes in case there was a next time, as the three human females led the throng of cows away. His neurotransmitters fired haphazardly, which had to be the reason he couldn’t look away from Cheyenne. The side-view mirror framed her perfectly as she walked with her hand on the bull’s neck, chatting merrily to the animals and to his daughters.

What was it about the woman? Why couldn’t he look away?

She paused at the green truck parked behind him and rummaged around in the backseat. She was a splash of colors, auburn hair, sun-bronzed skin, green T-shirt, denim jeans and she claimed something deeper within him he could not name.

He didn’t remember getting out of the car. Suddenly he was standing on the pavement with the Wyoming wind ruffling his hair, squinting against the sun, spellbound by her brightness. Cheyenne Granger tossed her head, her chuckle a soft melodic sound that rippled through the air and seemed to make the daisies in the field stand up to take notice.

He couldn’t explain what ached deep inside as if he’d contracted organ failure. He could not breathe as Cheyenne marched right through the herd, a slip of a woman compared to those large and powerful animals. His daughters trailed in her wake, Julianna skipping, her face beaming. He hadn’t realized how happy staying the summer in Wyoming was making his girls. Jenny laughed, actually laughed right along with Cheyenne as the girl climbed down the embankment into the knee-high grass, a different child from the one she’d been a month ago.

“Cheyenne! I think Shrek loves me.” Julianna wrapped her arms around the bull’s broad chest.

Concern lurched through him as he launched forward, but the huge animal nibbled at one of Julianna’s pigtails affectionately. Adam skidded to a stop, feeling awkward on the side of the road.

“He is definitely sweet on you.” Cheyenne strong-armed the heavy bag to the ground and bent to move aside the wires of what used to be a working fence. “Jenny, looks like you’ve found some new friends, too.”

“As if.” The tween rolled her eyes, hiding a giggle as several cows vied for her affection. With her dark hair framing her face, she looked as sweet as the little girl she used to be and grown-up enough to show the hint of the woman she would become one day. Kind and thoughtful and gentle-hearted. He was grateful the Lord had led him here.

“All right, you bunch of troublemakers.” Humor rang like a song as Cheyenne tore open the bag and waded into the tall grasses. “Look what I have for you.”

Every cow’s head lifted, and big nostrils scented the breeze. Ears pricked upward. Eyes brightened. The animals clattered around Jenny and lipped at Julianna’s pigtails on the way by, streaming down the embankment and through the hole in the fence, Shrek in the lead.

“Nothing like a little bribery.” Cheyenne upended the last of the bag, gave it a shake and stepped back as the herd descended on the pile of treats. Teeth crunched, jowls worked and tails swished as the cows happily ate. Cheyenne tracked back to the red fence posts, rounded up the girls and sent them climbing the embankment before she restrung the wire the best she could, considering the fence posts were leaning.