Susan Mallery - The Rancher Next Door

There was a long moment of silence. Katie leaned on the wall and closed her eyes against the memories of that time. She’d been all of twelve and the oldest daughter. She’d mourned her mother with all the grief possible. Yet she’d never once thought it was the Darbys’ fault.

“I wish that bastard brat had never been born,” Aaron said harshly.

Katie couldn’t agree. She’d met Wyatt a few times over the years, and he was a brilliant young man. Intelligent, sensitive. Aaron wouldn’t understand or appreciate any of those traits.

“You’re never going to let the past go, are you?” Suzanne asked. “Despite all the years, you’re still as much in love with Gloria as you were the day she died.”

“Suzanne, it’s not like that,” Aaron said.

She went on without missing a beat. “I can’t compete with a ghost. I thought we could work this out, but now I’m not so sure. I’m tired, Aaron. I’m tired of fighting with you, of always being the outsider. And I’m tired of being second best.”

“Susie, you don’t mean that.”

“I do. More than I’ve ever meant anything.”

Katie straightened and turned away. She didn’t want to listen anymore. Whatever problems Suzanne and Aaron had weren’t her business. She shouldn’t have eavesdropped in the first place.

She walked to the kitchen, where she left a note for her stepmother, telling Suzanne where she and Shane were staying. She wrote down the Darby phone number, in case of an emergency. Then she headed for the back door and her waiting vehicle.

But before she left, she glanced around the kitchen she’d grown up in. Over the years, Suzanne had made it her own. Her copper pots hung above the large stove. The wallpaper had been replaced about six years before. Somehow she’d forged a family from a collection of kids that by all rights should have hated each other.

Suzanne had never played favorites, not with her own two, Aaron’s four or the two children they’d had together. She’d always treated the kids fairly. Of all eight siblings only Josie, Katie’s younger sister, had not gotten along with Aaron’s second wife.

“Quite an accomplishment,” Katie said softly. She hoped her father knew what a treasure he had in Suzanne and that he wouldn’t let his pride stand in the way of saving his marriage. She tried not to think about the fact that being right was more important than anything with her father, then she left the house.

By two that afternoon Katie had unpacked for both herself and her son. Shane had returned from his riding lesson with Jack and was watching a movie. Katie prowled restlessly through the large house. She felt jumpy and out of place. Too much had happened in too short a period of time. Between her new job, trying to settle on the Fitzgerald ranch, watching the relationship between her son and her father disintegrate and then having to move out-she felt broadsided. She needed a break, she thought. A brief escape from the circumstances of her life. She thought about driving out to check on the construction of her new house, but the idea wasn’t enticing. She wanted to do something more physical.

She walked into the family room. Shane relaxed against Jack’s mother, his head resting trustingly on the older woman’s arm. They were each holding a bowl of popcorn and seemed engrossed in the adventures of a cartoon Hercules.

Hattie saw her and smiled. Shane hit the pause button on the VCR remote.

“Hi, Mom. Wanna watch?”

“I don’t think so,” Katie said, hovering by the doorway.

“What is it, dear?” Hattie asked. “Having trouble settling in?”

“I guess.” Katie shifted her weight, then shoved her hands into her pockets. “Everything is great. I really appreciate all that you’re doing for us. But I just can’t seem to relax. I think I’ve been inside too much or something. Would you mind if I went for a ride?”

“Not at all. The exercise will do you good. There’s a gray and white gelding in the stable. His name is Socks, and he’s a wonderful animal. Gentle and forgiving of rusty skills, but with plenty of stamina. He’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

“Thank you,” Katie said. She looked at her son. “Are you going to be all right here if I’m gone for a little while?”

He pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Mom, I’m not a baby. I like Hattie. It’s fine. After the movie I’m gonna work on the Web site for my school project. Hattie says she wants to watch.”

“Sounds nice.”

Katie wanted to question him further to try to find out how much Aaron’s outburst had hurt him. But this wasn’t the time. If Shane was feeling relaxed and comfortable in his new surroundings, she was grateful. She would talk with him about the rest of it later.

She waved to them both and walked out of the room. On her way to the stable she couldn’t help remembering the sight of her son curled up on the sofa, terrified of his grandfather. Her heart ached at the memory. By contrast he found comfort with Hattie and Jack. Why did her father have to be so damn difficult?

She drew in a deep breath and sighed. There were no magic answers to Aaron’s temperament. For now Shane was safe, and that was all that mattered.

Twenty minutes later she and the gray gelding cantered away from the barn. Katie felt her tensions and restlessness ease with each ground-eating stride of her mount. As Hattie had promised, Socks was forgiving of her awkward seat and slightly heavy hands.

She inhaled the sweet scent of the afternoon air. The sun warmed her back as a slight breeze blew her short hair away from her face. For the first time that day, she smiled. Maybe everything was going to be all right, after all.

Socks headed for a grove of trees, then circled them. Katie glanced around and realized that she was going to have to keep track of where they were going. This wasn’t Fitzgerald land, so she didn’t know her way. Getting lost wouldn’t be very smart.

She reined in Socks and studied the sun, then glanced back the way they’d come. She figured the Darby-Fitzgerald property line was northwest of her present position. If she found that, she could ride the fence and know where she was going. “Better than getting lost,” she murmured, then urged her horse forward.

They came to the fence line in less than a mile. Katie followed it north. Her mind drifted from topic to topic, and it wasn’t until they crested a rise that she realized where she’d subconsciously been leading her horse.

Below lay a small, shallow valley. There weren’t any cattle around. This time of year, they didn’t use this pasture. A line shack-a single-room structure with the most basic of supplies-stood sheltered by several trees. A single horse waited patiently out front.

Katie stared at the building. She hadn’t seen it in eleven years, yet nothing had changed. The building was just as plain and weatherworn. The trees didn’t seem any taller. She stared at the horse-even that was familiar. How many times had she ridden up and seen an animal hobbled by the front door?

All those years ago, only one person would have been waiting for her inside that small building. Today she had no reason to expect him to be there, and yet she was sure he was. Whatever powers had drawn her here this day must have also drawn him. The past had a wisdom all its own.

Memories flooded her brain, and she didn’t have power against their current. She leaned over and stroked Socks’s neck. The gelding snorted softly. She remembered the first time she’d crested this particular rise and seen the shack. It had been summer, and she’d been all of thirteen.

July fifth, she thought, losing herself in what had been all those years ago. She remembered the date because the Fourth of July had been awful. The family picnic had dissolved into fights and hurt feelings. Katie had been missing her mother. Gloria Fitzgerald had been gone less than two years, and while Katie really liked her new stepmother, Suzanne wasn’t Mom. Then there were the other problems in Katie’s life. Thirteen was not a great age. She wasn’t old enough to do anything fun, but she was too old to play with the little kids. She’d felt restless and confused by hormones and emotions. Worse, at breakfast that morning, her father had announced that Suzanne was pregnant.

Katie knew enough about sex to know how her stepmother got pregnant. And the thought of her father doing that with anyone had been enough to make her skin crawl. Parents were supposed to be, well, parents.

Then Katie had stumbled across the line shack. She’d gone to investigate, reasonably confident that she was trespassing on Darby land, but thrilled by the adventure, however small. She’d gone inside and had found someone had fixed up the place. There were fresh blankets on the cot and a comfortable chair by the window that was perfect for reading. Then there were the books. Dozens and dozens of wonderful books. Mysteries and biographies and travel stories. She’d found a couple of tins of cookies and a few magazines showing nearly naked women. Katie had helped herself to the former and been shocked by the latter.

For nearly two weeks she’d found her way to the shack in the afternoon, when her chores were done and no one cared where she went. She’d read and dreamed and started a journal. Then one afternoon the door had jerked opened and a tall, gangly shadow had demanded to know what the hell she was doing in his line shack.

Katie smiled as she remembered her surprise. It had taken her several seconds to recognize the fourteen-year-old boy in front of her.

“Jack?” Her heart had pounded so fast, she was afraid it was going to fly right out of her check.

Katie had worshiped Jack from afar ever since he’d taught her to ride a bike three years before. She daydreamed about them meeting and had planned dozens of clever things to say to him. At that moment she couldn’t think of a single one.