Coming Home To The Cattleman - Judy Christenberry

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when you left, and it’s been a long time. Things can’t be changed overnight.”

      Jennifer wiped her cheeks dry. “No…I guess not.” After a moment she asked, “I’m not sure I should even be here, it seems so hard between us! Should I leave, Rachel? Would that be for the best?”

      “No! Never, Jenny. Just give your dad some time. Do you need to go back to New York right away?”

      “No. I quit my job when Mom died. There was so much to take care of, and I wasn’t happy there. I’d always wanted to come back home.”

      “I’m glad you think of it as your home. Let’s go get you settled in your room.” Rachel stepped over to Jennifer’s suitcase and picked it up. “Just follow me.”

      Jennifer followed Rachel up the staircase and turned right to go to her old room. When Rachel opened the door, Jennifer entered and was immediately struck by how much time had passed since she’d left the ranch. She had expected the room to look the same as it had when she’d been a little girl, but of course all her toys were gone, except for one stuffed rabbit that rested its head on the pillows. The gaily decorated room she’d left when she was eight was now an elegant room done in shades of blue.

      “I love the way you’ve decorated the room, Rachel,” she said, pasting a smile on her face.

      “We kept it the same for a long time, Jenny, but when it was obvious you weren’t coming home, I changed it because…because your father couldn’t deal with…with the memories.”

      It was the first sign Jennifer had that her father had any kind of emotions for her. “He missed me?”

      “Of course he did! Something fierce. If Jason hadn’t come along and helped him, I’m not sure he’d be alive now.”

      “Oh. Jason. I can tell that they’re very close.”

      “Yes, they are. Jason has been good to your father. It would be a mistake if you tried to come between them, Jenny.”

      “No, Rachel, I would never do that. I know—I’m sure he’s been very helpful to…Sam.”

      “Why don’t you call him Dad?”

      Jennifer blew out a long breath. “I don’t know, Rachel, he doesn’t seem to want me to. He didn’t even touch me when he saw me.”

      “You didn’t touch him, either.”

      “No. I guess I was afraid to.”

      “Well, give it time. Why don’t you unpack and come back down and then we’ll talk some more.”

      “All right. Rachel, thank you for welcoming me. I’ve missed you.”

      Rachel hugged her. “I’ve missed you, too. It was a dark day when your mother took you away.”

      “Yeah, for me, too.”

      Sam sank down on his bed and stared into space.

      His door opened and he looked up to see Jason standing there.

      “Are you okay, Sam?”

      “Yeah.” Nothing more. He couldn’t seem to put his emotions into words.

      “She’s a beautiful woman,” Jason said bleakly.

      “Yeah.”

      “You don’t trust her do you? Is that why you lied about your wealth? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you did, it’s better to have that understanding up-front.”

      With a weary sigh, Sam shook his head.

      “You could tell her to go away, if that’s what you want.”

      “It isn’t. I want to try again, Jason, but it’s been so long it’s hard. She was so sweet and loving when she was a child. I adored her. That’s why it hurt so much when Lorraine took her away. She was my world. I did everything for her future.”

      Jason stepped to Sam’s side and put his hand on his shoulder. “I know that, Sam, but go slow. There’s no rush. You were hurt badly last time, don’t be so easily knocked off your pins this time.”

      “Yeah,” Sam agreed, but he was heartsick. He’d wanted to put his arms around Jenny and swear he’d never let her go again. But Sam knew he’d have to. Her home was in New York. A foreign land to him. Jennifer’s mother had come to Oklahoma on a vacation. He’d fallen for her at once. Two weeks later they’d married.

      Too late Sam had realized she’d married him for his money. At least, it had seemed that way to him. She’d expected luxuries he’d never heard of. When he’d accused her of hating life on the ranch, she’d agreed. But by then she had been pregnant with Jenny.

      Before Jenny had been born, he’d hired Rachel to help take care of the baby and keep the house clean. Lorraine had never bothered with cooking and cleaning, and with Jenny’s arrival she’d become totally uninterested in her daughter, too. And then, when Jenny was eight, Lorraine had suddenly decided to take his little girl to New York to meet her grandmother.

      They’d never come back.

      Sam had realized that his marriage had been a mistake, but he had wanted Jenny back. He’d finally flown to New York to talk to Lorraine and try to at least get visitation. She’d refused and had assured him that Jenny never asked about him or expressed any desire to go back to Oklahoma.

      And so, desolate, Sam had come home and turned to drink, burying his head and ignoring his ranch. Then, at his lowest point, he’d met Jason. The boy had helped him stop drinking and shown him new ways to improve his land. He’d given Jason ten percent of the ranch each year until he now owned forty-nine percent. Financially they were doing well.

      But Sam had lied to Jenny about his wealth, sure that she’d come back only to see what she could get from her father. She had spent so much time with her mother, some of her bad ways must have rubbed off on her, and until he knew otherwise he was going to take care, as Jason suggested.

      He wanted to get to know his daughter, but the thought of history repeating itself plagued him. What did they have in common after all this time, and what kind of relationship could they have now? No. The only reason she could be here was she’d spent all her mother’s money. That had to be it.

      After unpacking her belongings and putting them in the closet and chest of drawers, Jennifer sat down on the edge of the bed to shore up her emotions. She wasn’t going to spend her time at the ranch crying over spilt milk.

      She was going to be strong, as strong as her father had taught her to be.

      Until her mother had taken her New York, Jenny had spent most of her time with her father. The rest of the time she’d spent with Rachel. She had gone to New York—she’d had very little choice—but once there she had seldom seen her mother. Her mother hadn’t had time for her once they had gotten back to the big city and the whirling social scene her mother loved. Jenny had had a nanny who took her to school and oversaw her homework and generally had taken the place of her mother. She had been made to dine regularly with her mother and grandmother, but it had been a chore that she’d dreaded.

      They’d used the time at dinner to instruct her in manners and social etiquette. Then they’d gone out for the evening and she was turned back over to the nanny.

      So Jenny had drawn on the lessons her father had taught her, lessons of heart and beliefs of heritage and strength. They’d gotten her through. Maybe she’d exaggerated them in her mind. Maybe he hadn’t loved her as much as she’d believed.

      But now she was going to try again.

      She had to.

      She stood and opened the door to her room. Going back down the stairs, she was reminded of going down in the mornings as an eight-year-old, already dressed for her day, eager to get on her pony and accompany her father as he went about his duties.

      Would he let her ride? One of

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