LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

      “Just as long as I beat Justin.” Jewel crossed to pet her stallion’s broad black nose. “It’s still between us, right?”

      James nodded.

      “He’s already got extra work teaching ranching skills at Fresh Start,” Jewel said, mentioning the rehab facility run by Justin’s fiancée, former army chaplain Brielle Thompson. “But Cade Ranch...” She pointed at the rolling slopes leading up to Mount Sopris’s peak. “It’s all I have.”

      James squinted at her. “Maybe that’s not a good thing.”

      “I’m not cut out for marriage or a family like the rest of you.” Jewel buried her head in Bear’s warm, velvety neck.

      “How do you know?”

      She closed her eyes, shutting out the rising memories of her father’s criticism and dismissal. She didn’t measure up to what women...wives...mothers were supposed to be. “Promise you’ll decide who’s range boss by summer’s end.”

      James considered her, then nodded slowly. “I can live with that.”

      She blew out a relieved breath, pressed a quick kiss on Bear’s nose and headed for the calves. A sense of contentment stole through her as she assessed the injection and branding sites for irritation. This was her world...and for her, there was nothing else.

      Now she only had to convince James by the end of the summer, and she’d have everything she ever wanted.

      * * *

      “GOOD EVENING, CARBONDALE. Temperatures today peaked at ninety-eight degrees with humidity at twelve percent. Severe drought conditions continue to expand across Colorado, and that means an elevated fire danger just about statewide,” announced a local weatherman.

      Heath dropped the ice cream scooper in the carton to crank up the radio’s volume.

      “A T-shaped swath of northern and central Colorado is listed as abnormally dry with record-breaking temperatures continuing into next week.”

      Heath swore under his breath and his sister, Sierra, groaned. She finger-combed her long blond hair into a ponytail and secured it with an elastic band. “We’ll be lucky if we get through this summer without a major forest fire.” As a wildlife veterinarian, weather extremes were her greatest fear.

      “And without losing any cattle.” Heath plopped vanilla ice cream into a bowl and passed it to his adopted brother, Daryl, who drizzled fudge topping on it.

      “We’ve got to keep the herd intact.” Daryl’s light blue eyes gleamed beneath black brows.

      “How come, Pa?” Daryl’s eight-year-old daughter, Emma, twirled on the ranch house’s bare wood floor in stocking feet.

      “Nothing for you to worry about, darlin’.” Daryl ruffled Emma’s fine blond hair. He, Sierra and Heath exchanged silent, anxious glances. Any cattle loss put them closer to foreclosure. “Want sprinkles?”

      Emma jumped. “Yes! Can I have a lot?”

      “You got it, honey.” Sierra held up two containers. “Chocolate or rainbow?”

      “Rainbow.” Emma pointed to the colorful bow around the bun she’d worn to dance class. “I want to match like Grandma Joy.”

      “Can I have chocolate?” Daryl’s six-year-old son, Noah, scooted onto Sierra’s lap. His thick black hair, exactly like his father’s, swished across his round face. “And rainbow?”

      “Anything you want,” Sierra vowed.

      “Don’t spoil him,” Daryl warned, all while pouring on heaps of fudge. The hypocrite.

      “These are my only nieces and nephews so I’m spoiling them rotten.” Noah giggled when Sierra tickled his side. “Maybe Heath and Kelsey will have babies soon, so I’ll have more to spoil...”

      An expectant silence fell as Heath wordlessly passed over another bowl. He still hadn’t told Kelsey, or his family, about his Nashville tryout. When Pa and Cole finally got in from their fence inspection, he’d quit stalling and share his plans to drive to Tennessee next week. His stomach twisted. Would they be happy for him? Would Kelsey? Anticipation kept him up last night, imagining a future he’d never dared dream before, along with his fiery exchange with a certain redheaded cowgirl.

      An ungrateful cowgirl.

      “Can I be your flower girl when you get married this year, Uncle Heath? Huh? Can I?” Emma asked around a mouthful of ice cream.

      Heath swallowed hard as he met Emma’s expectant blue eyes. “If I do, you’re the only flower girl I’d want.”

      “If?” Emma angled her face up to her father. “I thought Mama said you were setting a date or something...”

      “Hush now and eat your dessert,” Daryl urged, his tone gentle but firm.

      “Is Mama coming?” Noah asked, his lips rimmed in sprinkles and chocolate.

      A shadow darkened Daryl’s eyes. “No. She’s got another headache.”

      “She always says that.” Emma dropped her cheek into her palm and sighed. “And she never wants to do anything except type on the computer. How come you don’t sleep at home anymore, Pa?”

      Daryl’s face flushed, and concern for his brother spiked inside Heath. Daryl and LeAnne’s nine-year marriage had problems from the start. Lately, Heath woke to find Daryl sleeping on the ranch’s sofa rather than in his family’s cabin. They hadn’t spoken about it since Daryl, like all Lovelands, valued his privacy, but his suffering was clear.

      “The drought has dramatically expanded recently,” the weather reporter droned on. “Thursday’s drought monitor indicates that more than ninety-eight percent of the state is in a drought, up from only ten percent at the start of the year. That’s a dramatic increase from just three months ago.”

      “How come it never rains?” Noah scooped the fudge circling his melting ice cream and dumped it back over the top.

      “And it didn’t snow at Christmas, either.” Emma’s face pinched. “Are we going to die like the polar bears? That’s what Jenny says.”

      “Don’t listen to foolish talk.” Daryl accepted the bowl Heath passed him and dug in.

      Heath eyed his niece’s and nephew’s wide, fearful eyes, clicked off the radio and slid a sundae toward Sierra. “We need to do a rain dance.”

      “I want to do a rain dance!” Noah hopped off Sierra’s lap and clapped his hands. “What’s a rain dance?”

      Heath stowed away the ice cream carton. “It’s a sacred ritual Native Americans do to ask for rain.”

      Noah’s body practically vibrated with excitement. “Can we try?”

      Heath shook his head. “Well, we can’t do a real Native American rain dance, but we can do our own.” He grabbed a small pot and a spoon and handed it to Emma, then passed over two boxes of elbow macaroni to Noah. “Line up behind me.”

      “She just pushed me!” Noah complained when the kids jostled for the spot directly behind Heath.

      “Did not!” Emma cried.

      “Did, too!”

      “Enough!” barked Daryl, a hint of a humor lightening his tone. “Or the rain dance is canceled due to bad behavior.”

      “Sorry!” Emma and Noah squeaked.

      “What do I do with these?” Noah held up the boxes. “They’re heavy!”

      “You shake them.” Heath demonstrated, then handed a box back. “They’ll make a rain sound to call the clouds.”

      “I’ll take one.” Daryl dropped his spoon in his bowl, snagged the box and

Скачать книгу