Cara chanced a look ahead, watching Nicholas from behind.
Nicholas glanced sideways at the fields they rode beside, a smile curving his lips.
This is where he belongs, Cara thought, looking at him now silhouetted against the mountains. This is his natural setting.
Pain twisted Cara’s heart.
And where do you belong?
Before she met Nicholas the question had resonated through her life. Then, for those few, magical months with Nicholas, she’d thought she had found her place.
And now?
She was expending too much energy wondering how to react to Nicholas and thinking of how to behave around him.
They were outside on this beautiful day and were headed out into the hills. Just enjoy it. Don’t put extra burdens on it.
Nicholas sat easily on his horse, his one hand on his thigh, the other loosely holding the reins. He had rolled his shirtsleeves over his forearms, and as he rode, she could see his broad shoulders moving ever so slightly in response to the movement of the horse.
He’s an extremely good-looking man, she thought with a touch of wistfulness.
And he doesn’t belong to you anymore.
CAROLYNE AARSEN
and her husband, Richard, live on a small ranch in northern Alberta, where they have raised four children and numerous foster children and are still raising cattle. Carolyne crafts her stories in her office with a large west-facing window through which she can watch the changing seasons while struggling to make her words obey.
Cattleman’s Courtship
Carolyne Aarsen
I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.
—Philippians 4:11
I’d like to dedicate this book to Linda Ford, my friend and critique partner. You rejoice with me and weep with me and help me struggle with stories. Especially this one. You are an inspiration and an encouragement. I couldn’t do what I do without your help.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
Panic spiraled through Cara Morrison as she stared at the cowboy standing with his back to her looking at a chart on the wall of the vet clinic.
Nicholas Chapman. The man she was once engaged to. The man she thought she didn’t care for anymore.
He wasn’t supposed to be back in Alberta, Canada. He was supposed to be working overseas.
And she wasn’t supposed to be reacting to her exfiancé this way.
The familiar posture, the slant of his head with its broad cowboy hat, the breadth of his shoulders, his one hand slung up in the front pocket of his faded blue jeans all pulled at old memories Cara thought she had pushed aside.
Bill, the other vet, was out on call and her uncle had chosen this exact time to grab a cup of coffee, leaving the clinic in her capable hands, he had said. If she’d known who the next client would be, she wouldn’t have let him leave!
Nicholas turned and Cara’s heart slowed for a few heavy beats, then started up again. She sucked in a quick breath as her mouth went dry.
Gray eyes, the color of a summer storm, met hers in a piercing gaze. Eyes she had once looked into with love and caring. Eyes that once beheld her with warmth instead of the coolness she now observed.
“Hello, Cara. I heard rumors you were back in town.” Nicholas pushed his hat back on his head, his well-modulated voice showing no hint of discomfort.
The last time she saw him, three years ago, he wasn’t as in control. His anger had spilled over into harsh words that cut and hurt. And instead of confronting him, challenging him, she had turned tail and run.
And she and Nicholas hadn’t spoken since then.
Her friend Trista had assured her Nicholas was working overseas on yet another dangerous job.
Yet here he stood making her heart pound and her face flush.
“I’m visiting my aunt and uncle for a week,” she said, forcing a smile to her face, thankful the trembling in her chest didn’t translate to her voice. “After that I’m heading to Europe for a holiday.”
“What made you decide Europe?”
Okay, chitchat. She could do chitchat.
“My mother spent some time in Malta.”
“Ah, yes. In her many travels around the world.”
Cara frowned at the faint tone of derision in his voice. Though Cara had wished and prayed that her mother would stay with her instead of heading off on yet an other mission project, she also had wished she shared her mother’s zeal.
“She did some relief work there,” Cara said. “I’d like to visit the orphanage where she worked.” She folded her arms over her chest. “And how are things with you and your father?”
“We’re busy on the ranch,” he replied. He drew his hands out of the pockets of his denim jeans and placed them on the counter.
The hands of a working man. Cara fleetingly noticed the faint scars on the backs of
