style="font-size:15px;"> He rolled his shoulder, tensing against the pain that knifed through it, a souvenir from a rank saddle bronc who had spun in when Tanner expected him to spin out. Tanner had lost his seat but, as if to add insult to injury, had also received a well-placed kick that had dislocated his shoulder and put him out of the money for that particular rodeo and had ruined his saddle.
Monty Bannister had been the one who made that saddle, and Tanner wanted Monty to be the one to fix it. Hence his trip here first. The sooner the saddle was fixed, the sooner Tanner could head out on the road again.
The fact that Keira Bannister, his old girlfriend and fiancée, was back living at Refuge Ranch was something he’d have to deal with.
Tanner sent up a quick prayer for strength, put his truck in gear and headed down the road. He wouldn’t be long. Just a quick chat with Monty Bannister, drop off his saddle, say hello to his stepmother, who was staying at the Bannister ranch to help Ellen recuperate, and then head back to his father’s ranch a few miles down the road.
Correction, stepmother’s ranch. The thought could still gall him even after all these years. In spite of working alongside his father since he was a little boy, everything changed when his father died unexpectedly of a heart attack five years ago. When the will was read after the funeral, Tanner found out the ranch had been willed to his stepmother in its entirety. And a couple of months later, Alice had made it clear that she preferred that her natural son, David, take over the ranch. Not Tanner.
In spite of all of that, it was still his childhood home. Tanner had figured on staying at the Circle C for the few days it took for his saddle to be repaired and then heading back to his garage in Sheridan, then off to his buddy’s ranch near Vegas to get ready for the National Finals Rodeo. The super bowl of rodeos. The big one.
The rodeo that would, hopefully, help him let go of the burden that had been haunting him the past two years.
He cut through a grove of snow-laden ponderosa pines then slowed as he entered the draw sheltering the ranch buildings. Refuge Ranch looked so much the same it gave him an ache. And yet, as he looked over the familiar gathering of barns, hay sheds, bunkhouse and main house, he noticed a new addition. Tucked behind a grove of trees, to the left of the main house was another house that had been built while he was gone.
Was it Keira’s? he wondered as he pulled into the yard.
Then, as he made that final turn, he saw her.
Her face was hidden by a misshapen cowboy hat pulled low over her head and a red knitted scarf wound around her neck. A too-large, worn oilskin coat flapped around her legs, meeting laced sheepskin boots.
It could have been anyone.
Except Tanner knew that sideways tilt of her head, how she always bunched her hands inside the sleeves of her coats. How, even bundled in winter clothes, he recognized the way her purposeful stride ate up the ground.
His heart gave an unwelcome thump and his foot hit the brake too hard. His truck slid a foot or two on the packed snow, then came to a halt just as Keira Bannister looked up.
He knew the moment she saw him. Her hands fell out of her sleeves and dropped to her sides. Her narrow chin came up and her lips thinned. Even though her bangs hung well over her eyes, he caught a glitter in their blue depths that matched the chill of the sky above them. She looked angry, which puzzled him, which, in turn, made him angry.
She was the one who had broken up with him. He was the one who, if his life was a country song, had been done wrong. What right did she have to be angry?
He was the one who had tried to get them back together after their breakup when he’d returned from that string of rodeos they’d fought about. But when he’d come back to Saddlebank, she’d disappeared. Hadn’t responded to any of his calls, emails or texts. Absolute silence. And on top of that, she hadn’t even bothered showing up at his stepbrother’s funeral two years ago. Keira had known David almost as well as she’d known Tanner. But in no way did she acknowledge the loss of Tanner’s stepbrother and rodeo partner. She hadn’t bothered to send a note, a card, not even the courtesy of a simple text message.
What right did she have to look so angry?
Their gazes held a moment and in spite of the raft of negative feelings the sight of her created, woven through them all was an emotion older and deeper than that new anger and frustration. An emotion that had grown and matured as they grew up together, friends, confidants and then sweethearts.
Tanner swallowed, as if the tightening of his throat could keep those older feelings from rising up. He was surprised at how easily they returned when he saw her. He had heard, via his stepmother, Alice, that Keira had come back to Saddlebank two years ago. A month after David’s funeral.
He knew nothing more than that. After David’s death Tanner had had no reason to return to Saddlebank so he had stayed away, working in the mechanic business that had been part of the reason he and Keira had broken up.
He took a deep breath, clapped his hat on his head and stepped out of the pickup into the chill wind that whistled down from the mountains. The sooner he got this done, the sooner he could be on his way.
He closed his truck door, tugged on his gloves, turned up the collar of his woolen coat against the cold wind that cut through the yard and walked toward Keira.
She watched him as he came, her head up, her mouth still a tight line, her cheeks a rosy glow. Blond strands of hair had slipped free from her hat and caught the wind, waving in front of her face. She batted them away, her eyes on him.
Beautiful as ever.
He caught the errant thought and pushed it back into the past.
“Hey, Keira,” he said as he approached her. He stopped himself from adding the ubiquitous how are you doing because it seemed superfluous.
“Hey, Tanner,” was her tight reply, her breath creating wisps of vapor tugged by the wind as she tucked her wayward hair back under her hat. She reached down and petted her dog, Sugar, on his head, then shot another look at Tanner.
Sugar released a gentle whine, then trotted over to Tanner and sniffed at him. Then he sat down, looking up as if expecting something from him.
“Hey, Sugar,” Tanner said, petting the dog, who seemed happier to see him than Keira did.
He looked back at her. They stood facing each other a moment, like combatants trying to decide who would make the first move. Guess it was up to him. “So how’s your mother feeling?” he asked as Sugar stretched, then returned to Keira’s side.
“Today is a better day, according to your mom.” She angled her chin toward the main ranch house. “You going in to see Alice? She’s there right now.”
“I will in a few minutes.” Tanner’s stepmother was a home care nurse and right now her job was taking care of Keira’s mother, Ellen Bannister, as well as babysitting Adana, John’s little girl. John Argall was the ranch’s hired hand. Ellen had taken care of Adana until she had broken her neck in a freak fall and was now recuperating under Alice’s supervision. “I’m actually here to see Monty. He around?”
Keira shoved her hands back in her sleeves as her hair came free again. “He went to Saddlebank to get the mail and meet up with his cronies at the Grill and Chill. You can call him on his cell.”
