her daughter was out of earshot, Vienna turned toward him, her hands clutching the doll to her middle. “Chance is dead,” she said without preamble.
“What?” West gaped in shock at her. “When?”
“Yesterday apparently. There was a...a fight and he was shot, though it sounds like he didn’t suffer.”
A desire to comfort Vienna filled him, a longing to reach out and take her into his arms as he’d done years ago—and then again the night he’d helped rescue her from Chance’s crazy kidnapping scheme. But things had been more formal between them for a long time and he wasn’t sure if Vienna would appreciate the comforting gesture or not.
“I’m real sorry, Vienna,” he said, hoping she sensed his sincerity. While he despised Chance Howe for the way the man had treated his wife, he didn’t fault Vienna for feeling grief over her husband’s demise.
She offered him a thin smile of acknowledgment. “Thank you. I don’t really know how I feel about it.”
West could relate far better than she knew. How did one respond to loss when it had been preceded by so much conflict and harshness?
“I suppose I feel mostly sad, more for him than for myself or Hattie,” she admitted. “He and I have lived apart for so long now that it’s more like hearing about the death of a distant acquaintance than a spouse.”
“I’m glad to hear he didn’t suffer.” No matter his anger toward Chance and his choices, West didn’t like the idea of him suffering any more than the man already had. After all, Chance Howe had lost his wife and child long before he’d lost his life.
Vienna dipped her head in a slow nod. “Me, too.”
“Will you tell Hattie?” West still didn’t know how much Vienna had told her daughter about the girl’s father and it wasn’t his place to ask. He was their friend and possible protector but nothing more.
Gazing at her daughter who was filling her tiny fist with flowers, Vienna sighed. “I’ll tell her soon. In some ways, it may be easier to explain that her father passed away than if he’d lived and I’d had to prepare her for him coming back here. Someday I’ll need to tell her the truth of all of it, but not yet.”
“Sounds wise to me.” He matched her steps as she moved toward the house.
Her expression conveyed genuine relief. “I appreciate that. More often than not, I feel anything but wise.”
“What will you do now?” Not that Chance’s death was likely to have much of an impact on her. West already knew how little Vienna cared for ranching and how much she enjoyed working at the Running W—same as he did. Having his own spread was still his ultimate dream, but in the meantime, he couldn’t ask for a better or more generous employer than Edward Kent.
Vienna stopped walking, and for a second, West didn’t think she was going to answer his simple question. Then she darted a quick look at him.
It might have been short, and yet, it was long enough for him to see unmistakable remorse in her eyes. The sight set off a warning bell inside his head. He had a sinking suspicion he wasn’t going to like what she was about to tell him.
“Hattie and I will be leaving the Running W soon,” she said in a quiet but resolved tone.
West didn’t feel one ounce of pleasure at knowing his suspicion had been correct. “Where will you go?”
“Back to the HC Bar. I don’t know yet what I’ll do with it or where we’ll end up. But it’s time Hattie and I found a home of our own.”
“McCall?”
West frowned, his arms resting against the door of the stall where the new mare stood eating. He couldn’t keep his focus on his work. Instead, he kept thinking about Vienna’s announcement earlier. Truth be told, he’d struggled to concentrate on anything the rest of the afternoon and evening.
“McCall? Did you hear me?” Edward asked in his slight British accent. “You look as lost in thought as Vienna tonight.”
At the mention of Vienna’s name, West straightened away from the stall and threw his employer a contrite smile. “Sorry, Boss. Where were we?”
“I asked after the new mare here.”
West dipped his head in a quick nod. “Right. She seems to have settled in well. And I don’t think she’ll give us much trouble with breaking her in.”
“Excellent.” Edward moved away from the mare toward the open doors of the ranch’s main barn. “What about the south pasture fence?”
“Nearly all fixed. We’ll finish tomorrow.”
He joined his employer outside where the first stars had begun to glitter overhead. The unimpeded view of their brightness in the vast stretch of sky never ceased to amaze him. It was one in a long list of things he cherished about living out west.
“How did Thurston do overseeing the fence project today?” Edward asked next.
The wrangler had been working at the ranch longer than any of the other young men, and West had been recently tasked with giving him more opportunities to lead. “Did real well. You gunnin’ for him to replace me?” he half teased.
“Not right away.” Edward chuckled. “But I know you still want to run a dude ranch of your own someday.”
West had confided that dream to Edward about a year after coming to work at the Running W. His visits to a dude ranch in North Dakota as a young man had inspired his future plans as well as the pivotal decision to fully embrace a life out west. He’d been relieved and grateful when Edward, a man he fully respected, hadn’t scoffed as some ranchers did at the notion of building a career helping wealthy guests experience Western life.
“Which is why,” Edward added, “when the time comes, I want to be sure Thurston will be ready to take over as the next ranch foreman.”
West expected Edward to head to the house right then as the man usually did. Not that he could blame him. If West had a wife and a baby on the way, he’d probably wish to spend every possible moment with his family, too. But while a family meant potential for great joy, as Edward had clearly discovered, they could also be the means of immense heartache. West had learned that sad, hard fact years ago—one was loved and important as long as they were doing what everyone wanted. Once the usefulness wore out, so did the strength of familial ties.
Rather than go inside, though, Edward loosely folded his arms and regarded West curiously. “You want to share what was on your mind earlier?”
“Just thinking,” he hedged.
Edward glanced in the direction of the house. “Did you hear Chance Howe is dead?”
“Yep, Vienna told me earlier.” West kicked at a clump of grass with the toe of his boot. “Did she tell you what she’ll do now?” He didn’t want to share her plan to leave the ranch if she hadn’t yet told the Kents.
