Wyoming Sweethearts

“Are you kidding? I’m a diner gal through and through.”

“Me, too. I’m way underdressed for this dining room.” Cheyenne plucked at the collar of her T-shirt. “It’s a good thing I have an in with the manager.”

“Exactly, or we would toss your kind out.” It was fun to banter. A great perk to being home was seeing old friends. She leaned her cane against the window sill and settled into the cushioned chair.

“You look good. How is the physical therapy coming along?”

“It’s done. My leg has come as far as it can.” She shrugged one shoulder, as if that wasn’t a big deal. As if she didn’t feel torn apart every time she said it. Life dealt you hard blows and you had to deal and keep moving forward. That’s what she decided in the ambulance when she was being rushed to the trauma center. She’d known before the firemen had cut her out of the car that life would never be the same. The paralysis had improved but not disappeared, which was amazing enough. “I can ride my horse. That’s the good news. I can’t complain. Now, down to business. Are you ever going to tell me what really happened with Edward?”

“I told you, he thought I was getting too serious so he broke things off.” Cheyenne rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Sierra, who bounded over in her black-and-white uniform. Cheyenne lit up. “Hey, I heard a rumor you’re marrying my brother. Nice engagement ring.”

“Shocking, but true. When he asked, I accepted.” Sierra radiated happiness. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“I can’t imagine,” Cheyenne agreed. After they ordered and Sierra disappeared into the kitchen, she propped both elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. “So, what’s new with you?”

“With me? I’m not buying the innocent look. I know exactly what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing? I’m just sitting here.”

Eloise wished she could make her friend’s pain disappear. Anyone looking at Cheyenne wouldn’t guess she was nursing a broken heart. “You and Edward broke up on Valentine’s Day. That’s three months ago. You aren’t over it, I can tell.”

“I’ve decided to stay in denial. It isn’t just a river in Egypt.” Cheyenne waggled her brows.

“That isn’t funny enough to distract me, and you know how I like to laugh.” Eloise stretched out her bad leg and relaxed against the chair cushions. “You forget I have a romantic disaster in my past, so I know how it can feel when some guy who says he loves you up and ends things.”

“Our relationship was convenient for him, that was all.” Cheyenne’s face tightened, although she acted light and breezy as if she hadn’t been devastated. “I’m over it.”

“Wow, your denial is really strong.”

“It’s made out of titanium. Nothing will crack it.”

“Then I guess we’d better change the subject.”

“Fabulous idea.”

And she knew exactly what the subject would be. The handsome cowboy from the drive-in flashed into her mind. In truth, he hadn’t ever really gone away but lurked in the back of her brain like a happy thought. “I ran into your cousin in town today. He has an affinity for ice-cream cones, too.”

“Right. Sean. I’m trying to remember the last time you saw him.”

“Years and years ago. Probably the summer before we graduated from high school, the last summer I was home.” She caught sight of Sierra returning and debated changing the subject. But why? It wasn’t as if she were interested in Sean Granger. Besides, she wanted to know more about him. “He’s changed. I hardly recognized him.”

“He’s gotten tall, hasn’t he? I think he’s taller than Dad.”

Sierra set the glasses of icy drinks on the table. “Are you talking about Sean? He’s such a nice guy. It’s too bad what happened to him.”

“Why? What happened?” Inquiring minds wanted to know. She leaned forward, her heart rate tapping inexplicably faster.

“Bad breakup.” Sierra added two rolls of cloth napkins to the table. “She shattered his heart, or so I hear. She up and started dating someone else.”

Images of the handsome cowboy hopped into Eloise’s mind. Of the black Stetson shading his rugged face, the dimples bracketing his grin and the strong dependability the man exuded. “He didn’t look too heartbroken to me.”

“Are you kidding? It’s a Granger family trait not to deal with emotions.” Cheyenne took a sip of her iced coffee. “I notice you are doing the same thing, Eloise.”

“Me?” She smiled at Sierra as the waitress padded away, knowing she was completely guilty. But did she want to talk about it?

No. Not in this lifetime. The cane leaning against the windowsill was proof. There was no sense crying over what you could not change. “Isn’t that like the pot calling the kettle black?”

“Absolutely.” Cheyenne smiled and lifted her glass for a toast. “Here’s to denial and burying emotions.”

“It is the only way to go.”

With a laugh, they clinked glasses and the conversation turned to the evening’s plans, Eloise’s search for horses and Cheyenne’s funny tales of her long drive home from vet school.

This was the life. Sean Granger popped the top on the cold can of root beer, waving goodbye to the housekeeper who had left dinner in the oven and the timer set. All he had to do was listen for the ding. Mrs. Gunderson waved back as she hurried around the corner of the house and disappeared, leaving him blissfully alone. Well, almost alone. A clunk on the other side of the screen door reminded him two Grangers still remained in the house. But not for much longer.

He ambled over to the porch swing and settled onto the cushion to watch the sunset. Comfortable. Thanks for leading me here, Lord. It’s just where I want to be in life. He took a sip of his soda. A cow grazing on the other side of a white fence leaned over the top board and mooed at him. Her bright brown eyes were focused on his soda can.

“Buttercup!” The screen door whispered open and the youngest Granger sister popped out. Addison slung her designer bag over her shoulder. “You can’t have fizzy drinks. They give you the burps. Remember?”

The cow’s long sorrowful moo may have been a comment that some pleasures were worth a little discomfort.

“Dad should just let that cow live in the house like a dog, she’s so spoiled.” Addy winked as she waltzed by him. “It’s Friday night. You shouldn’t be here alone. I can stay with you and keep watch on Sunny. I’m worried about her.”

“No way. Don’t you change your plans. I can keep an eye on your expecting mare. Besides, I want to spend the evening with my sweetie.” He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles.

Buttercup, his sweetie, mooed again as if in total agreement.

“Then enjoy the peace and quiet while you can.” Addy’s advice was delivered with a grin as she hopped down the steps, strawberry blond hair flying behind her, looking a lot like his baby sister as she hurried enthusiastically down the concrete path. “Don’t forget to do your own dishes!”

“I know. My mom trained me right,” he called after her as she disappeared around the corner.

“That’s debatable.” A different voice answered. Cheyenne pushed open the screen door. “I saw the state of your bedroom. Do you know how to pick up anything?”

“Hey, that’s my private domain. I know how to do housework, but I’m not so good at doing it without someone telling me to.” He may as well be honest. He’d learned that was the best way to go through life, even if he could think of folks who didn’t agree—like his former fiancée.

“That’s a tad better than my brothers.” Cheyenne jingled her truck keys in one hand. “Are you really going to stay here all by your lonesome? It’s Friday night.”

“I didn’t know I’d be here alone, but yeah, I don’t mind. I like the peace.” It was what he preferred, and he’d had enough drama with Meryl to last him a lifetime. He liked quiet. He liked computers, books and watching time go by.

“It’s weird now that Dad’s with Cady.” Cheyenne hesitated on the steps. “He used to be home every weekend night unless there was something going on at the church. Now, look. I never thought it would happen, but he’s dating.”

“He sure is. He trailered up his horse and drove off about an hour ago. Said he and Cady were going for a ride. He looked pleased as punch.” Sean took another sip of root beer and let the feather-light summery air puff over him.

“What about you?” Cheyenne twisted around to walk backwards. “There’s no one you have your eye on?”

“Who? Me?” He stared off into the distance. The cow was going to hurt herself straining over the fence like that. He climbed to his feet, doing his level best not to think of pretty Eloise. “No. I’m done with relationships. They’re for the birds.”

“I know the feeling.” Cheyenne seemed satisfied at last, and he realized she didn’t want him to feel alone. That would explain why she was hesitating.

“What are you up to?” He set aside his can.

“I’m having dinner with a friend. Wait, you know her. Eloise, remember? We’ve been friends forever.”

“Blond hair, green eyes, is real quiet?” Surprising how the mention of her could make him smile. “Saw her today at the Steer In.”

“Yes. That’s Eloise. She’s home to stay, just like I am, so we’re celebrating with cheeseburgers and chocolate milkshakes. I can bring you an order home.”

“No. Mrs. G. left me on casserole duty. She’s got the timer set and a salad in the fridge.” He ambled down the steps and dug into his jeans pocket. The cow, scenting the molasses treat he found, hopped up and down excitedly. “Eloise is the one who used to skate, right?”

“Ice dancing. She won two world championships.” Cheyenne nodded as she hesitated at the corner of the garage.

A long span of mown grass separated them, and he had to speak up to be heard above the mooing cow and the twitter of larks. “What happened? Did she get injured or something? I saw a cane in her car.”

“She was in a serious car accident.” Cheyenne frowned, sad for her friend. “It’s amazing she walks, but she’ll never skate professionally again.”

Emotion punched him in the gut, reminding him life could be a tough road. He handed over the molasses treat and gave Buttercup a pat as she chewed happily. Sunshine gleamed off the cow’s sleek black coat. Her pure white face and white tipped ears made her look as cute as a button. He thought of Eloise and couldn’t guess what it would be like to lose a goal like that, although he knew what tragedy felt like. His older brother Tim, an Army Ranger, had been killed in action. The family had gone on but the loss had marked them all.

“Oops! I’m late.” Cheyenne darted around the corner and out of sight, her words carrying to him on the breeze. “If you change your mind, you have my cell number. Keep a close eye on Sunny and if you think she’s not doing all right, call.”

“I know the drill,” he told Buttercup as he rubbed her nose.

She gazed up at him with puppy-dog eyes, sank her teeth into his hat and lifted it off his head.

“Funny girl.” He rescued it from her and dug another treat out of his pocket. Life was good on the Wyoming range, and he was glad to be a carefree bachelor in command of his life. So what if it got a little lonely? He could handle that. If the thought of Eloise Tipple’s lovely face made him reconsider, he had to admit he was lonelier than he’d thought. It wasn’t easy being a lone wolf.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he admonished Buttercup. “I really am a lone wolf.”

The cow shook her head as if she didn’t believe him for a second.

“Is that you, honey?”

“Yes, Mom.” Eloise tapped through the shadowy kitchen and pushed open the back screen. The music of the nearby river serenaded her as she stepped onto the patio.

Helene Tipple looked up from her cross-stitch piece. “Did you have a good time catching up with Cheyenne?”

“I did.” She leaned her cane against the patio table and eased into a cushioned seat. Another positive about being back—there was no place like home. Their conversation had covered everything essential while neatly skipping the painful. “Cheye and I are going riding this week. I get to go over to the ranch and see all the new foals.”

“That’s nice, dear.” Mom poked her needle through the embroidery hoop and fussed with the stitch. “I was talking with your grandma today.”

“You talk with her every day.” Eloise rolled her eyes, already bracing herself. She knew exactly what her mom was going to say because they’d had this conversation many times before. “She told you about my upcoming blind date, didn’t she?”

“She is pretty excited about this young man. She wants you to call her. Take a few moments to gather your strength first.” Mom’s eyes twinkled as if she were enjoying herself.

“Yes, because this is so amusing.” Eloise shook her head, laughing, too. “This is my life. My grandmother is finding dates for me.”

“And don’t you disappoint her.” Dad spoke up with a rattle of his magazine page and a grin.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” She loved her grandmother with all her heart. No one on earth wanted to disappoint Gran. “Even if she is torturing me.”

Her parents chuckled as if she’d made a joke. Sure, her personal life was a laugh a minute. Shaking her head and laughing at herself—what else was a girl to do?—she hoisted up out of the extremely comfortable chair and made her way to the kitchen. As she dialed the phone, her gaze drifted to the large picture window overlooking the patio. Her parents made an iconic picture, sitting side by side beneath the striped table umbrella. Their silence was a contented one, broken by quiet murmurings and gentle smiles, a sign of their long and happy marriage.

Not everyone got the fairy tale. That was simply a plain fact. Eloise leaned against the counter and listened to the phone ring.

“Hello?” Gran warbled cheerfully. “Is that you, Eloise? Your mama promised you would be calling me.”

“Yes, it’s me, Gran.” Theirs was a lifetime love, too. She adored her grandmother. She would do anything for her, which was why she was doomed. “You might as well get to the point.”

“I talked with Madge.” Gran’s excitement vibrated across the line. “This is what I learned about George. He manages an office-supply store over in Sunshine. He’s a good Christian boy and he wants to get married.”

“Why can’t he find someone to marry him who actually knows him?”

“Well, he is terribly short but you don’t mind that, do you? A short husband is better than none at all. It’s what’s inside that counts.”

“Yes, it is.” Who was she to be arguing with that? She leaned her cane against the cabinet doors and prayed for fortitude.

“I have high hopes for this one. Don’t worry, I’m looking out for you, sweetheart.”

“I’m looking out for you too, Gran. I’ll drop by after work tomorrow.” Her grandmother needed a little help around the house these days, and she was happy to do it. That way they could spend quality time together, another very big advantage to being back home again.

After chatting for a few more minutes, she bid Gran goodbye and hung up the phone. The peace of the evening filled the kitchen like the rosy light of the sunset tumbling from the western horizon. The entire landscape glowed as if painted with a luminous pearled paint. Her mind drifted back over her very good day and lingered on the memory of a man with a black Stetson holding a strawberry ice-cream cone in one rugged hand. A very nice image, indeed.

Chapter Three

“Good afternoon. Lark Song Inn.” Eloise tucked the receiver between her chin and shoulder. “How may I help you?”

“Yeah, this is Nate Cannon. I need to talk with Eloise.”

“Dr. Cannon.” The local vet. A kick of anticipation charged through her, so she grabbed a pen off the front desk and poised it over the memo pad. “I’m Eloise. Did you happen to hear about my mission?”

“Cheyenne clued me in. She said you folks are looking to buy horses in need, and I happen to know of a pair.”

“Bless you.” She’d tried the local agencies and organizations over the last handful of days, but no luck. “Where are they? What are they like?”

“Two geldings, as gentle as could be. Their owner passed away a while back and the folks who inherited the land don’t want to keep them. It’s hard to sell horses this old, so if your boss is looking to make a difference in an animal’s life, she wouldn’t regret taking them in.”

“They sound perfect.” The poor things. She glanced at her watch. Wendy should be back from her break in a few minutes. “Could I take a look this afternoon?”

“I’ll give you the address and phone number. Now, these folks aren’t the most agreeable so you might want to bring someone with you who really knows horses. Like Cheyenne. I’d offer, but I’ve got a show horse with colic to get back to and a busy afternoon after that. You could call my receptionist. She might be able to book you a time.”

“Thanks, but I’ll call Cheyenne.” After getting the necessary information, she buzzed Cady, who was delighted at the prospect of horses for the stables, then dialed her best friend’s number.

“Hello?” A familiar baritone rumbled across the line. “Stowaway Ranch.”

“Is this Sean?” Why was she smiling? The man simply had that effect on her. She was curious. That was different from interested.

“Eloise. How are you doing?”

“Fine enough.” Was it her imagination or did he sound glad to hear from her?

“Are you calling for Cheyenne?”

“Guilty. She promised me use of her horse expertise. Tell me she’s there.”

“I wish I could but she took off to do some shopping in Sunshine. Should be gone all afternoon. I might not be an expert when it comes to horses, but I’m no slouch either. What kind of help do you need?”

“Uh …” Brilliant answer. Her brain decided to short circuit again. “The vet found some horses.”

“Oh, and you need someone to go with you. I can do that.”

“Uh …” Was she stuck on that word? What was the matter with her?

“It’s a slow afternoon and I like to make myself useful. I can bring a horse trailer.”

“I can’t say no to that.” Especially since she didn’t own a vehicle capable of pulling one. But did she really want to spend an afternoon with the most gorgeous man she’d ever met? She was fairly sure judging by the amount of friendliness in his voice that he hadn’t noticed her cane yet. She dreaded the moment when he did, but putting horses in the inn’s stables was her new assignment. She wanted to do her job well. “Let me give you the address.”

“Great. I need something to write with.” A drawer banged open before he came back on the line. “Got it.”

“You probably know where this is already, but the vet gave me detailed instructions.” She gave him the information. “When can you get there?”

“Give me thirty minutes?”

“Thirty minutes it is. Thanks for helping out, Sean.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for.” He set down the pen and folded the scrap of paper.

“I didn’t know we were friends.”

“A friend of Cheyenne’s is a friend of mine.” He ignored Mrs. Gunderson who bustled into sight with a laundry basket balanced on one hip. A lone wolf could have a friend or two and still be a lone wolf, right? “I’m happy to help. I like what Cady’s doing. She could be filling her stalls with pampered horses, but she wants to make a difference. I’ll see you soon.”

“Thanks, Sean.” Eloise’s gentle alto was about the prettiest sound he’d ever heard. She wasn’t fake, like some women he could think of—Meryl came to mind—but honest and sincere. He liked that. Those were just the right qualities for a friend.

He hung up and caught Mrs. Gunderson’s raised eyebrow as she paused midway up the stairs, free hand on the rail. There was no mistaking that motherly look.

“What?” He held up both hands, the innocent man that he was. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I didn’t say a thing.” She had raised five sons of her own, so he knew she was wise to the ways of the male mind. “You call me if you aren’t coming home for supper.”

“Why wouldn’t I be home for supper?” He grabbed a chocolate-chip cookie from the jar. “This isn’t a date. It’s a humanitarian mission. Well, an animal welfare mission.”

“You like that girl.” Mrs. G. narrowed her gaze at him. “Don’t try and fool me.”

“I’m not fooling you. I like her. What’s not to like? But I don’t like her.” After Meryl, he’d be stupid to. A smart man would be leery after being used like that.

“Sometimes the best things come along when we aren’t looking for them.” She went on her way, padding up the stairs and out of sight, her words carrying up to him. “All things are possible to him who believes.”

Boy, did she have the wrong idea. Sean shook his head. Mrs. G. couldn’t be more mistaken. When he wiped a crumb off his shirt, he noticed his T-shirt had a hole in it. His jeans sported grass stains and his work boots were dirty.

Maybe he’d better go change. Getting spiffed up had nothing to do with seeing Eloise. It was simply a matter of cleanliness. He took the stairs two at a time, whistling.

“This must be the place,” Eloise said to herself as she glanced at the reflective numbers stuck to the side of a battered black mailbox. Although two numerals were missing, the description matched the vet’s directions so she eased her car off the paved county road and onto a driveway that was more dirt and potholes than gravel. She listened to the rush and whap of weeds and grass growing in the center of the lane hitting the underside of her car. Hopefully there wasn’t anything big enough to do any damage. She gripped the steering wheel tight and eased up on the gas pedal.

Something dark and large lumbered up behind her, filling the reflective surface of her rearview mirror. She recognized that dark blue pickup. Sean. The sunshine seemed brighter, although that was probably an illusion and had nothing to do with the man’s appearance. She eased around a hairpin corner and a dilapidated covering built out of corrugated metal and weathered two-by-fours came into sight. It huddled sadly against a broken-down fence. Barbed wire hung dangerously from listing and rotting posts. Most of the grass had been eaten away from an acre-sized field, where two horses pricked their ears, spotted the truck and came running.

She pulled to a stop in front of a carport that had seen better days. A rusty truck rested in the shade. Overgrown grass danced in the wind as she watched Sean’s vehicle pull up beside her. Maybe the last wheeze of the air conditioner was the reason the hair stood up on her arms. She did not want it to be a reaction to the man strolling into sight. She braced herself for the inevitable and reached for her cane.

Sean Granger looked like a western hero in his long-legged worn blue jeans. The white T-shirt he wore emphasized his sun-kissed tan and as he swept off his Stetson, muscles rippled beneath the knit cotton blend.

He raked one hand through his brown hair and smiled down at her as he opened her car door. His dreamy blue eyes captured her with a steady stare and then his gaze slid downward as she climbed out from behind the wheel, stood tall and used her cane.

Here was where he dimmed down the smile and his friendliness when he got a good look at her cane. It’s what most guys did whether they were interested or not. She braced herself for it as she took one limping step, but it didn’t come. Instead Sean closed the door for her, nodding toward the horses. “Did you get a look at them?”

“No, I was too busy trying not to lose my car in one of the potholes,” she quipped and was rewarded with a grin as he swept his hat back on.

“They saw the truck and came running. Look at them.” His hand settled on the curve of her shoulder, a friendly weight, as he turned her gently toward the fence line. “I wonder if their former owner drove a truck like mine.”

“They keep staring at it, almost waiting for someone else who might be in there.” She gasped, realizing how they must be feeling. “Dr. Cannon didn’t say how long the gentleman who owned them has been gone.”