have no trouble finding a woman who’d be more than willing to give him a family.
Maybe he’d already tried marriage and had gotten a divorce, Marcella silently contemplated. Or could be some woman had soured him on love and put him off the idea of marriage. Or perhaps he simply wanted to keep his freedom. Whatever the reason for his bachelorhood, Denver’s personal life was none of her business.
“I was a baby when my dad put me on a pony,” Denver spoke up. “So I don’t remember the occasion. But I can assure you there wasn’t any galloping done that day.”
“Orin told us ghost stories,” Harry said. “One was about Little Joe the wrangler who was trampled in a stampede. He said his ghost rides the hills and the desert flats. Have you ever seen him?”
“A few times,” Denver said, then tossed her a sly smile.
Marcella felt as enthralled by this man as her sons seemed to be, which should have made her feel foolish, but it didn’t. Tonight was a party night for fun, and it had been a long, long time since she’d spent a few enjoyable moments in a man’s company.
“Really?” she asked impishly.
“Cross my heart,” he said with feigned seriousness. “He wears a black-oiled duster and rides a white horse.”
Peter jumped to his feet with excitement. “That’s right! And the horse’s mane and tail looks like flames! When did you see him? At night?”
“Usually at night. But once, some of the ranch hands and I saw him in the late afternoon riding through a patch of Joshua trees. A big storm had blown up and turned the sky dark. Lightning was flashing everywhere and jumping like streaks of blue fire off the horns of the cattle. The herd stampeded and we raced our horses after them.”
“What happened?”
The question came from both boys, and as Marcella studied their mesmerized faces, she couldn’t help but dream and wish that she could give them the father they needed and deserved. Her mother was constantly harping for her to date, to make an effort to find a man willing to marry her and be a father to her sons. But Marcella didn’t want a marriage of convenience. She wanted love. For herself and her boys. They deserved nothing less.
Denver said, “The cattle were running straight toward a deep gorge and going so fast we couldn’t catch up. They were all going to fall over the cliff and die. Then suddenly out of nowhere Little Joe appeared from the black, boiling clouds. His white horse was so fast it was a blur in the wind and they turned the herd just in time.”
“Wow! That must’ve been cool!” Peter exclaimed.
“What happened then?” Harry asked. “Did you see Little Joe up close?”
Denver shook his head. “By the time we reached the gorge, he was gone. But we thought we heard the sound of his horse’s hooves echoing down in the canyon. It gave us all the shivers.”
“That’s awesome!” Harry spoke in a breathless rush, then turned an excited look on his mother. “Mom, did you hear that? Mr. Yates saw a ghost! A real ghost!”
“Well, I’m sure Mr. Yates has seen a lot of...strange things out on the range,” she reasoned.
“Tell us some more, Mr. Yates,” Harry pleaded. “Orin told us about a headless prospector and he walks around with a pickax. Have you seen him?”
“Boys, that’s enough for now. Mr. Yates has had a long day. And—”
Before she could finish, Denver’s cell phone rang. Marcella and the boys went quiet while he answered the call.
Once he tapped the face of his phone to end the conversation, he looked over at Marcella. “The mechanic is finished with your car. So if you and the boys are ready, I’ll drive you back to it.”
When the car had gone kaput, she’d been thinking of the endless chores she needed to get done at home and lamenting the time that was going to be wasted waiting on a mechanic to repair it. Now all she could think was that she wasn’t quite ready to leave Denver’s company.
“Oh, Mom, do we have to go right now?” Harry asked.
Peter quickly seconded his brother’s suggestion. “Yeah, Mom, do we? We want to talk to Mr. Yates some more.”
Forcing herself to her feet, she motioned for the two boys to join her. “Sorry, fellas. It’s getting late and we’ve already interrupted Mr. Yates’s evening enough. Come on. Pull on your jackets and gather up your empty soda cans.”
Less than ten minutes later, the boys were loaded in the backseat of the car. She’d filled out the necessary forms for the repair cost, and the mechanic had driven away.
Now as she stood outside the driver’s door with Denver less than two steps away, she’d never felt so awkward or deflated in her life. An hour ago, she was desperate to get home. Now she was reluctant for her time with this man to end. It made no sense. None at all.
“There’s no way I can begin to explain how much I appreciate your help,” she told him. “And thank you for being so patient with Harry and Peter. I imagine tomorrow your ears will still be ringing.”
With a wry smile, he shook his head. “Not at all. I enjoyed their company. It made me remember back to when I was that age.”
She said, “You might not believe this, but they don’t normally have such motormouths. Especially with a person they’ve just met. They like you.”
“I’m honored.”
She hadn’t expected him to say anything close to that. But then everything about him and this evening had caught her off guard.
“Well, I’d better be going.”
She extended her hand to him, but instead of shaking it, he wrapped both hands around hers. The contact felt incredibly intimate, and for a moment she wondered if she’d forgotten how to breathe.
“Goodbye, Marcella. It was nice meeting you and your sons. Have a safe trip home.”
It was nice meeting her, she thought, but not nice enough to ask for her phone number, or mention he might like seeing her again. The notion filled her with disappointment, but she wasn’t about to let it show. Instead, she gave him the cheeriest smile she could muster.
“Thanks, Denver. And you be careful to watch out for Little Joe,” she teased. “You know Halloween is actually tomorrow night. He and that white horse might be on the prowl.”
He grinned. “Right. I’ll keep my eye out.”
“Goodbye,” she said, then slipping her hand from his, she quickly turned and climbed into the car.
Once she’d shut the door and fastened her seat belt, she didn’t allow herself to glance at him through the window. Instead, she drove away and tried her best not to notice the lights of his truck reflecting in her rearview mirror.
A week later,
