was a lot of Texas cowboy mixed in. Tall and muscular, he filled out a shirt like no other man she’d seen in a long time.
He glanced over his shoulder. Their eyes met for a second, and Lacey felt that odd feeling, a mixture of longing, sadness and a little anger. Before she could move or even acknowledge him, he turned and walked away.
So, Master Sergeant Jeff Gentry had finally come home.
Jeff couldn’t believe it. He didn’t even know about his own future, but he owned two horses. He’d only planned to bid to help Lacey get top dollar for them. He couldn’t let her lose everything. This ranch had been Trevor’s dream for his family. He knew his friend had worked hard to build a reputation.
His father caught up to him. “Do you mind my asking what you plan to do with your quarter horses?”
Jeff shrugged. “Sorry, I guess I didn’t think about where I could board them.”
Wyatt smiled. “Of course you can bring them to the ranch or maybe take them over to Uncle Chance’s place. He’s better equipped for training anyway.”
Hank walked over to them. Jeff’s eighty-five-year-old grandfather was grinning. Still healthy and active, Hank Barrett was the head of the Randell family.
“I’d say you got yourself a fine pair of horses, Jeff.” He glanced around. “I’m surprised Chance didn’t show up this morning. He’s always been impressed with Trevor’s stock.”
Jeff looked toward the house again. Lacey Guthrie was still on the porch. His breath caught as his hungry gaze moved over her. Tall and slender, she was nearly five foot nine. Her long legs were encased in faded jeans. She’d filled out since high school, and the weight looked good on her. Really good. Her honey-blond hair was thick and silky, hanging to her shoulders in soft waves. Her eyes were grass-green. He remembered her as always smiling, but she was not today. Definitely not the last time he’d seen her, either.
“Do you want to go talk with Lacey?” his dad asked.
Jeff shook his head. “She’s busy right now.” He pulled his attention away from her. “I’d better go pay for the horses and make arrangement for pick-up.” Before his dad or granddad could say anything more, he walked off, unable to hide the limp. He fought the discomfort and pulled out his checkbook as he headed to the cashier. The cost was high, but not nearly what he owed his friend.
Later, Jeff shifted his dad’s pickup into fourwheel drive and turned off the gravel road. The oversized tires made the journey easily over the rough terrain along the pathway to the clearing. His spirits began to soar when the familiar lineman’s shack came into view. He stopped the truck and climbed out, but didn’t go any further as his gaze took in the landscape, the grove of trees and the stream that ran through the Guthrie property.
Hundreds of happy memories of summer days he’d spent here with his friend came rushing back. As kids, he and Trevor would ride their horses up here, wade through the stream, even pretend to fight off villains, rustlers and any bad guy on the most-wanted list. They ran races through the field to see who would win the title that summer as the fastest kid.
Jeff had always won. He was the athletic one. Trevor was the outgoing one, the charmer with animals and people. When it came to girls, Trev had led the way, too. That was how his friend had won Lacey’s heart.
He turned his attention to the shack. Their hangout. It was different now. What once was nearly falling down had been rebuilt. Trevor had written saying what he’d planned to do.
Jeff walked across the new porch floor. The door had new hinges, too. Trying the knob, he discovered it was unlocked. Although the inside was dim, there was light coming through the windows.
“Looks like you did it, Trev,” he whispered into the single-room cabin. “You fixed the place up.”
Suddenly the emotions were overwhelming. He drew a few breaths and released them slowly as a doctor had once instructed him. Once he’d pulled himself together again, he began to look around.
A small table and a pair of chairs were placed against one wall, on the other were built-in bunk beds. In the corner was a pot-bellied stove. He walked to the kitchen area to find the same old brass water pump arching over the oversized sink.
He touched the aged counter, tracing the familiar initials scratched in the wood. Their names, Trevor Guthrie, Jeff Gentry, and then, later, another person had been invited into their sanctum, Lacey Haynes.
When they’d gone to high school, a new declaration had been carved out: Trevor loves Lacey. Jeff’s finger outlined the heart around their names. The threesome turned into a twosome. Trevor and Lacey never intentionally left him out, but he’d become the third wheel. And he’d found it harder and harder to be around the happy couple. Even dating his own steady girl hadn’t changed his feelings for Lacey. But she’d loved Trevor.
Jeff had tried to accept it. After a time, he knew he couldn’t stay around. He’d joined the military and was to leave in a few months. It had been a rough summer for all of them, and particularly rocky for the perfect couple. Trevor had asked him to help. Jeff had reluctantly agreed and he’d met Lacey at the cabin. But they hadn’t done much talking.
Jeff drew a shaky breath; the pain and joy of being with Lacey still tore at him.
He’d done the unforgivable that day. He’d betrayed his best friend. So the only thing he could do had been to leave and try to forget. He’d heard weeks later of the couple’s wedding.
So many years had gone by. So many things had happened over those years. He rubbed his thigh absently.
“What are you doing here?”
Jeff spun around, nearly losing his balance. He gripped the counter as he looked at the young boy standing in the doorway. The kid’s hat was cocked low, but there was no hiding his anger. There was no doubt at all that he was Trevor’s son.
“Hi, I’m Jeff Gentry. I used to come here when I was a kid.”
“This cabin belongs to me and my dad. So you’ve got to leave.”
“I knew your dad, Trevor.” He nodded. “You must be Colin.”
The boy ignored him. “He’s dead.”
“I know and I’m sorry. I’ve been away for a lot of years.”
Colin’s eyes narrowed. “Dad told me you were in the army, Special Forces. That you’re a hero.”
Jeff tried not to flinch at the title. “I was just doing my job.”
Those questioning blue eyes studied him. “Big deal. If you were my dad’s friend, how come you never came to see him?”
“I was out of the country, serving overseas. As much as I wanted to be here, I had a job to do for the government.”
The kid remained silent.
Jeff continued in the awkward stillness. “We wrote back and forth.” That sounded lame, even to him. “I had no idea he was so sick until afterwards. I’m here now, so if I can help you—”
The kid reared back. “I don’t need your help. ’Cause it’s too late.”
