Page 8 of Waiting for the Rancher
Sterling had come home more crushed. Even though he hadn’t said so, it was clear that his relationship with Violet was over.
Hazel had loved her friendship with Violet and had been looking forward to having Violet as her sister-in-law. But now the young woman seemed like a stranger, and Hazel couldn’t keep from wondering if she’d ever truly known her friend.
The friend she’d known wouldn’t have let Maverick kiss her, certainly wouldn’t have kissed him back...
Hazel’s thoughts returned to the scene outside the house two days ago, the one in full view of the parlor window. When Maverick had come walking up the path carrying Violet, all the guests inside the house had grown quiet. None of them had even known Violet was outside. Not only had everyone been surprised to see her, but they’d been shocked to see Maverick holding her so intimately against his chest, their faces close, their expressions so intense.
Sterling had already stepped outside, and Hazel had been close on his heels when Maverick had stopped and kissed Violet. Or had Violet kissed him? Had Violet spoken the truth? That she’d been the one to initiate the kiss?
It had been difficult to tell from the front porch.
Either way, the kiss had been inappropriate. Even if Maverick hadn’t started it, he could have avoided it or put an end to it almost immediately. But he’d kissed Violet back and had lingered for a few seconds, giving Sterling a full view of his disloyalty.
Not only had Hazel been mortified to see her friend and Maverick kissing, but she couldn’t deny that she’d also been slightly hurt. Violet already had Sterling, who absolutely adored her, practically worshipped the ground she walked on. She hadn’t needed Maverick too.
Not that Hazel had any claim to Maverick for herself. They were only friends. And it wasn’t as if Violet had known about the old infatuation with Maverick. Hazel hadn’t felt the need to talk about it since it wasn’t important.
Regardless, Violet had been selfish to try to gain Maverick’s affection in addition to Sterling’s.
As Sterling bent his head and resumed his mucking of the stall, Hazel released a breath of frustration. Her brother had nothing to worry about. She’d never fall prey to Maverick’s charm or good looks.
With a heavy heart, Hazel finally located Alonzo. His loyalty to their family ran deep, especially because Father had hired him to work the ranch when no one else would even consider hiring a cowboy who’d had one of his legs shot off during the War of Rebellion.
Although Alonzo hadn’t protested her returning to work the same way Sterling had, at first he refused to hitch the wagon, telling her that he was too busy to take her. When she’d said that she would walk the two miles to High C Ranch, he shook his head and, a few minutes later, drove the team and wagon into the yard.
All the ride there, Alonzo’s anger toward Maverick was clear in every twitch of his leathery face. As they entered through thefront gate and started down the long dirt road that led to the house and barns, Hazel eagerly took in the horses grazing in the south pasture, the wide variety including Morgans, mustangs, Percherons, Clydesdales, and the new breed, the Colorado Oakley.
As with every time she gazed upon the dozen or so stately Oakleys, a sense of pride swelled within her, since she’d had a hand in their creation. They were a hardy horse—tall, muscular, and nimble-footed, intended to be able to withstand the harsher elements of the mountains. They’d also been bred to be steer-savvy and hard-working.
The new breed was proving to be everything they’d wanted and more. They were growing in popularity, and ranchers from all over the state were willing to pay a hefty price for one. In fact, several of the Oakley foals not yet born had already been purchased.
The horses disappeared from her view as the road began to wind through a stand of lodgepole pines. She drew in a breath of the fresh scent of damp spring soil, her blood finally seeming to come to life after the past few days of heartache.
When the team and wagon rumbled past the trees and into a clearing, the main house came into view, still made of the original logs from when the Oakleys had first settled the land. Smoke rose from a central stovepipe projecting from the roof, the gray wisps curling into the silent, motionless morning air.
The yard was deserted except for a scattering of chickens pecking about in the dead grass. Beyond the house, the barns and corrals and small cabins for the ranch hands also seemed deserted. Likely the men were already out on the range with the cattle, driving them to areas where the grass wasn’t chewed down to stubs.
Although the Oakleys focused on their horses and didn’t have the large herds of cattle that her family had, they still kept a fairnumber of steers that needed pasture. April was usually hard, that in-between time when the feed stores from the winter were nearly gone and the fresh grasses hadn’t grown back yet.
As Alonzo directed the team and wagon toward the mare barn, the first of three large structures, Hazel’s heart began to beat at double the speed. Even though she’d only been absent from work for one day, she’d missed the mares. She knew each one by name, their mannerisms, their temperaments, their preferences, even their communication. And she liked to think they knew her too.
When the wagon came to a stop outside the double doors, she gave Alonzo’s arm a squeeze. “Thank you for bringing me.”
His back was hunched, and he rested his forearms on his thighs, his empty pantleg tucked up against the stub of his leg that had been amputated directly above his knee. Beneath the brim of his salt-stained Stetson, his stringy, greasy brown hair was tied back with a leather strip. His sun-browned face was covered in a thick beard and sideburns. As he settled his gaze upon her, his expression softened. “It’s all right, girlie. I know you love the horses, that’s all.”
She offered him a smile, thankful he understood her need to be there in spite of all that had happened.
“I’ll be back at dusk.”
“I’ll be ready.” At least, she hoped so. She never could tell exactly when her mares would go into labor. Even when the signs were all there, birthings weren’t predictable. Usually Alonzo didn’t mind waiting for her and often came into the barn to assist her in any way he could.
But now... she had the feeling he wouldn’t want to help and wouldn’t want to stay a minute longer at High C Ranch than necessary.
If only she could put her fear of riding horses behind her. Then she wouldn’t have to rely on him, especially to get to andfrom work. But in all her years of trying to make herself get back on a horse, she’d never been able to. At this point in her life, she’d nearly given up hope that she ever could.
As she climbed down and then waved goodbye to Alonzo, he fixed on something beyond her, his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.
She only had to follow his gaze to the barn entrance to know why.
