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Authors: Rebecca H Jamison

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“Maybe on a special occasion. If they’ve done their chores.”

That was just like Tanner—looking at things in extremes, although she
admired him for having high standards. “Pancakes are my favorite breakfast,”
she said. “I don’t think they do any harm. Every kid should have a sticky,
syrupy pancake breakfast once in a while.”

“I’ll get you my mom’s recipe for low-carb pancakes. She uses cottage
cheese. They’re pretty good with fresh blueberries on top.”

“Fresh blueberries sound good,” she said. “Maybe you could make them
for me sometime.” Tanner’s mom was the best cook in town. Rosie already had a
stack of her recipes that she hadn’t tried yet. Not that she didn’t want to.
She just didn’t have the time for complicated cooking.

“I’ll have to do that.” He turned off the paved mountain road and onto
a bumpy dirt road with grass growing on either side of the tire tracks. He
maneuvered the extra-large pick-up around curves she thought he couldn’t
possibly navigate. She’d never been to this part of the mountain.

She wouldn’t have allowed any other man to take her this far out in the
wilderness. But Rosie trusted Tanner. That trust was the reason Tanner was the
only man she’d dated in the last four years. She didn’t give her trust easily.

They drove for another three miles. Finally, after crossing a shallow
creek, they arrived at a grassy meadow filled with wildflowers. Rosie stepped
from the truck and bent to examine a small, blue flower. Her grandmother had
taught her the names of the wildflowers around the ranch, but most of the
wildflowers in the mountains were unfamiliar to her.

Behind her, Tanner lifted a folding table and chairs out of the back of
his truck. “I couldn’t think of a better place to take you out to eat.”

“So far, it’s much better than any restaurant I can think of.” She
watched him set the table in the shade of a pine tree. Drawing in a breath of
mountain air, she took in the scene. Except for some gray clouds in the sky,
everything seemed perfect. There was even the sound of a rippling creek in the
background. “Did you bring your fishing gear?”

He headed back to the truck, pulling a cardboard box out of the back. “You’re
the only one I’m hoping to catch on this trip.”

She couldn’t help laughing. “You won’t do it by saying corny things
like that.”

He set the cardboard box on the ground beside the table and pulled out
a white tablecloth. She couldn’t read his expression, but it was clear he didn’t
see any humor in the situation.

 “I’m glad you brought me here,” she said. “This is just what I needed.”

“You deserve it.” Tanner unwrapped his mother’s best china plates and
crystal goblets. He set up one of the folding chairs and pulled it out for her
to sit. After giving him a hug, she sat and watched him put food on the plates.
They started with a salad he had picked fresh from his garden—cucumbers and
tomatoes in a creamy dressing.

He seemed unusually quiet, and she wondered if he was still hurt by her
calling him corny. “This was really sweet of you to bring me up here. I can’t
think of anything more romantic.”

His hands trembled as he lifted the lid of the casserole dish in the
middle of the table. What was wrong with him? It had been a long time since she’d
made him nervous in any way.

“Would you like some chicken cordon bleu?” he asked. “I made it myself.”

“I’d love some.”

He ladled a chicken breast onto her plate and watched as she gave it a
try, nodding her approval. “This is fabulous.”

“Thanks,” Tanner said. “You once told me chicken cordon bleu was your
favorite.”

“I did?” Rosie couldn’t remember ever saying that.

“A long time ago. You were home from college for Christmas break. You
and your grandparents came to my house for New Year’s Eve.”

She shook her head, smiling. “And you still remember?” Tanner always
did have a better memory than she did.

“I had a particular interest in you back then. I still do.”

A jay landed in a tall spruce above them. She pointed to it, but Tanner’s
eyes never left her face. What was with him today? “I hope I didn’t hurt your
feelings when I called you corny,” she said.

He paused with his fork halfway between his plate and his mouth. “Huh?”
The piece of chicken fell into his lap. He laughed. “You didn’t hurt my
feelings.” He lifted a lid on another dish. “Care for some wild rice?”

She accepted the rice. If he wasn’t offended by her words, why did he
seem so distracted? “Is something wrong?”

He reached for her hand. “I guess there’s no use beating around the
bush. I’ve been thinking a lot this week about your situation. You and your grandpa
living by yourselves on the ranch—it’s not good.”

She dropped her gaze. It seemed like he felt guilty for not helping
more. “We’re doing fine,” she assured him.

Around them, insects buzzed and a breeze rustled the long grass. A
yellow moth flitted above the wildflowers.

He still held her hand. “You’re getting the chores done, but there’s no
way you can keep it up once school starts again. And with your grandpa wanting
to sell the ranch, I thought maybe it was time—”

Time? Oh, no. He wasn’t thinking of proposing, was he? If he was, she
couldn’t let him. She didn’t want him to feel responsible for her. “I think it
might rain,” she said.

Tanner glanced at the clouds above them. “The forecast said it’d be
clear.”

 “It’ll be awfully hard to get out of here if it rains.” She cut into
her chicken cordon bleu, forcing herself to chew and swallow. The food stuck
like an extra-large pill at the base of her throat. She gulped her water,
trying to force it down.

He brushed his finger along her jawline, bringing her eyes to his. “What
I was going to say, Rosie, is that there’s no use waiting around. We’ve known
each other for so long. I think with the situation being what it is.” He took a
breath and removed the napkin from his lap. Then, while she stared in shock, he
dropped to one knee.

She swallowed. “Tanner, I can’t let you do this.”

He went on. “I know you think I’m rushing things, but I’m sure about
this. I love you, and I know I’d regret not making a bigger commitment,
especially now when it could solve all your problems.”

“Solve all my problems?”

He sat back on his folding chair and reached inside his cardboard box.
Rosie expected him to pull out a ring, but instead he brought out his laptop
and placed it on the table. “I’ve been running the numbers. I wasn’t sure about
your income, so I had to estimate, but it’s clear that we’d save money on
taxes, health insurance—everything—if we applied together. And we’d qualify for
a bigger loan. The guy I talked to down at the bank thought we might be able to
buy the ranch inside of a year, especially if I get the science teacher
position. It’ll be easier to qualify if I’m on a salary.” He showed Rosie a
budgeting spreadsheet and tax calculators.

 She stared at the spreadsheet, trying her best to focus on the
numbers. What Tanner said made sense. The numbers proved it, but she hadn’t
expected convincing numbers to come with a marriage proposal.

He dropped back to his knee. “What I’m saying is that together, we
could take care of your animals. And if we lived with your grandpa, he might
not want to sell off the ranch right away. It’d give us some time to save up.”
He took her hand in his. “Sorry I didn’t get a ring. I thought maybe you’d like
to help pick it out. Or maybe you’d rather save the money.”

“That makes sense,” she said. In fact, it made too much sense.

“So how about it?” he asked, his voice earnest. “Will you marry me?”

She placed her hands on Tanner’s shoulders. “Oh, Tanner, this is the
sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. I don’t know what to say.”

He reached for his laptop. “You could start by picking out a date. I’ll
pull up my calendar.”

Here they were in the most romantic setting she could imagine, yet she
didn’t feel romantic at all. She stared at the laptop screen, trying to collect
her thoughts.

Her mother had always married for romance, but that really hadn’t
gotten her anywhere. Maybe it was better to marry someone who could make her
happy in other ways—ways that included meals on the table and money in the
bank. Tanner would be a much better husband than any of her stepdads had been.
She felt safe with him.

“Women always spend too much time planning out the details,” Tanner
said. “If you ask me, we ought to get married as soon as possible.” He dug back
into his chicken cordon bleu with a smile on his face. He seemed a little too .
. . confident. She hadn’t even said yes yet.

Her chest tightened. She handed the laptop back to Tanner. “I’m going
to need some time to think about this.”

His brows fell for only a moment before he recovered. “Take all the
time you want.”

She wasn’t sure whether Tanner meant time to think about saying yes or
time to plan the wedding. “Do you really think we’re ready for marriage?”

He gave a nod. “You’re already twenty-eight, and we know each other
better than most engaged couples.”

Tanner pulled out his phone. “We ought to take some pictures with these
wildflowers in the background—preserve the memory.”

She forced herself to smile. “That sounds fun.” What was wrong with
her? She was in one of the most stunning places on earth with a man who loved
her. She should have goose bumps—the good kind—and thoughts of love, romance,
and possibly even her wedding night! But she couldn’t seem to conjure any of those
feelings.

They wandered into the meadow, holding hands and snapping shots. Things
were just starting to feel normal again when thunder boomed, startling them.
Rain came soon after that, sending them running for the truck. Tanner helped
Rosie into the passenger seat before he packed everything up. He was what her
grandma would have called a “perfect gentleman.”

Rosie watched Tanner until raindrops obscured her view. If she were a
normal woman, she would have accepted Tanner’s proposal right away, giddy with
relief that the biggest question of her life had finally been resolved: Will
you be married or will you be alone?

Her hesitancy probably stemmed from her dysfunctional childhood. It was
probably also why she hadn’t spent a lot of time planning for marriage. When
she was younger, she focused on going to school and establishing a career as a
teacher. After that, Grandpa and the animals had stepped in to fill any need
for nurturing others. She’d always wanted to marry someone like Tanner—in the
future. That future had always seemed so distant, but maybe it wasn’t as
distant as she’d thought. She’d never even told Tanner she loved him.

Tanner opened the door, letting in a gust of wind. His dress shirt was
completely drenched, and water dripped from his dark hair. “I’ve been thinking.
I jumped the gun a little with this whole proposal thing. I should have brought
the subject up a few times beforehand. I’m sorry about that.”

She reached for him, pulling him toward her. It was the first time she’d
initiated a kiss, and the thrill of it bloomed inside her. The touch of his
skin, wet against hers, the smell of rain on his clean hair, the rhythm of his
breathing slow and deep. He was a great guy, the best she could hope for.

Chapter 4

 

The horse seemed compliant as Destry rode him around the field the
first time. Then halfway through their second lap—wham, he bucked. Destry was
on the ground before he knew what happened. For a second, he lay there,
wondering whether he could get up. His palms stung where the reins had ripped
out of his hands. His head ached, and he felt as if he’d just received the beating
of his life. Meanwhile, the horse walked calmly back to the other side of the
field to eat the rest of the apples in the bucket.

So much for all the hours he spent pampering Orion after Rosie left.
His new cowboy boots hadn’t helped either. What made the horse throw him off?
He couldn’t remember seeing anything that might scare it. There was nothing but
flat, barren ground—no snakes or skunks. The only explanation was that his
previous owner hadn’t trained him properly—that or the bucket of apples was too
tempting.

Finding someone to train the horse was a high priority. Maybe he could
ask Mr. Curtis about it. Going over there would also give him a chance to see
Rosie again, and maybe find another way to pay her back for all the grief he’d
caused when he shot her coyote. Surely, she wouldn’t refuse his help with
chores.

Still aching from his fall, he limped to his car, drove down the lane,
and then hauled himself from his car to the Curtises’ front porch.

He found Mr. Curtis mending socks on his front porch. “Rosie’s on a
date,” he said.

Destry tried to cover his initial expression of surprise and disappointment.
“Oh.” It really was better that Rosie was gone. That way, at least, he could do
her chores before she told him no. “I’m glad she took a break.”

“She needed a break the way this land needs rain.” Mr. Curtis pointed
to a mountain in the distance. “It’s raining on old Mount Morris. Wish we could
get some moisture down here. We need a monsoon season like they have in Korea.”

“That’d be nice,” Destry said. “I thought since you’ve been so kind to
me, I’d help you out with some—”

“I served in the army during the Korean War. Never saw so much rain in
my life as I did there in South Korea. I didn’t have dry clothes to wear for
over a month.”

Destry raised his voice. “I didn’t know you were a veteran.” He reached
to shake the old man’s hand. “Thank you for your service.”

Mr. Curtis didn’t seem to hear him. “We all smelled like mildew, but
man alive, the plants grew. If we could just get one tenth of the rain they get
there.”

It was getting dark. If Destry didn’t get started soon, there’d be no
time left to work. He found the envelope in his pocket, the one Rosie had
returned to him earlier. Then, borrowing Mr. Curtis’s pen, he wrote on it:
What
chores can I do to help Rosie?

Mr. Curtis read it. “You want to know what you can do for Rosie?” He
pointed out to the animal pens. “Go muck out the bird pens.”

“Okay. Thanks.” It sounded easy enough. All he’d have to do was shovel
out the old straw and put in new. He grabbed the water bottle from inside his
car. Then he limped out past the vegetable garden toward the animal pens with
Rosie’s golden retriever, Cheddar, following at his heels. He took a sip of his
water and then put the water bottle on the ground outside the chicken pen.
After locating a shovel and a garden rake leaning up against the barn, he undid
the latch on the pen and stepped inside. The chickens—about six of them—ran
toward him as he entered, gathering around his feet.

The pen was older and larger than his own with thicker wire. Since most
of the chickens were out in the run, he started with the coop. The straw had
formed a deep mat on the floor so that he had to chop through it with the side
of his shovel, sending dust and the sour scent of chicken manure into the air.
He consoled himself with the fact that he could take a shower and an allergy
pill when he got home.

Was Rosie worth it? He thought so, but man, was she stubborn. He liked
a challenge though, even when he had so little chance of succeeding. He couldn’t
stop thinking of the sensitive way she blushed when she explained about the
portraits in the dining room. Before that, he’d thought she was too rough to be
embarrassed about anything.

He shoveled the rest of the matted straw out of the coop. Then he
opened the gate and flung it outside the chicken run. Only one chicken escaped
during the process. While Cheddar watched with hungry eyes, he chased after it,
grabbing it so one of its wings extended to the side and almost caught on the
door as he placed it back into the run.

His brother, Cody, would have enjoyed this. Cody had always been an
animal person. As teenagers, when he and Cody dreamed of buying a ranch, they’d
always planned for Cody to take care of the animals while Destry ran the
business side of things. Over the years, the dream faded from his mind, but
Cody had never let go of it. Five years earlier, Cody had brought a folder full
of plans to his office.

“Give me another year or two to work on this biotech thing,” Destry
told him. “Then we’ll have plenty of capital, and I’ll work on the ranch with
you, I promise.”

He shouldn’t have waited.

Maybe it was ridiculous to still keep the promise. But he had to try.
If Cody’s idea for a rehabilitation resort could keep others from suffering the
way Cody had, it’d be worth it.

 He took a swig from his water bottle while he walked past the other
animal pens, hoping to find a source of fresh straw. That was when he spied the
llama, staring at him from the other side of the fence. He’d never spent time
around llamas before, not even when he hiked through Peru.

As he got closer, he saw that the llama loomed just taller than
himself. “Hey, llama,” he said, reaching out to touch the animal’s neck.

Just as he touched it, he heard a shout, “Don’t touch her!”

Before he could turn to see who was shouting, the llama spat into his
face. It was more than spit though. It was a face-full of slimy rot, and it
smelled worse than the chicken manure. He stepped back, wiping his face with
the front of his T-shirt.

He heard laughter coming from behind him. He’d heard it before—light
and childlike. Rosie stood a few feet away, wearing a simple cream-colored
dress that revealed the curves of her calves and ankles. How was it that she
seemed to catch him at the most humiliating moments?

The llama spit clung to him like glue. As Rosie approached, he wondered
aloud, “What is in this?”

Rosie put her face toward the llama, who bent to smell her breath as
she spoke. “Undigested food. It scares her when people touch her neck.”

The llama blinked her big, brown eyes. She didn’t look at all afraid—or
apologetic.

He poured the contents of his water bottle over his face. “If she’s so
scared of me, why does she stand there, looking like she wants me to pet her?”

Rosie ran her hand along the llama’s back. “You have to be slow around
my animals. A lot of them have been abused. It’s better to let them approach
you.”

He gave no reply. It was the first time he’d seen her with her hair
down, long and silky. The setting sun shimmered against the golden strands,
each one a slightly different color than the others. She was so beautiful, so
authentic compared to his last girlfriend—like the difference between motel art
and a Monet. “You look great in that dress.”

She hid her face behind the llama’s neck.  “Thanks.” He had probably
embarrassed her.

“Did you have fun on your date?”

She stepped back, facing him for a second.  “We went up to Mount
Morris. I love it up there.”

That added another asset to the list of her good qualities: she was
smart, strong, sensitive,
and
she appreciated nature. He shoved his
water bottle back onto his belt. “Tanner’s a lucky guy.”

She glanced over to the chicken run. “Cleaning that chicken pen must
have been awful. Thank you.” She smiled, and it was the first time he had seen
her without a worried look in her eyes. “They’re happier now. I can tell by the
way they’re clucking.”

“How’s Wile E doing?” he asked.

“Well enough to steal Grandpa’s dinner off the table.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I wanted to help make up for the time
you lost taking care of her. Can I do anything else?”

“Since you’re already here,” she spoke at a slow pace, as if she were
reluctant to ask. “Would you mind giving the birds their electrolytes? They’re
overdue for it.”

“I’d be happy to.” He followed her to the barn, trying his best not to
limp.

She took a package off a shelf. “Just follow the directions,” she said,
handing him a bucket and pointing to the hose.

While she walked to the house, he mixed the solution and poured it into
the birds’ water containers. Everything went perfectly until he got to the emu
pen. With their reptile-like eyes, crest of feathers, and six-foot height, they
looked like something out of
Jurassic Park
.

He opened the latch on the gate and entered the pen, carrying a bucket
in each hand. An emu grunted and ambled toward him, its eyes reflecting light
from the barn. He froze. Was this going to be another episode like the one with
the llama? He lowered his head in a show of submission.

Looking down, he noticed three long claws on each of the bird’s
enormous feet. He couldn’t help it. He stepped away, his heart thumping. The
emu followed him until it’d backed him up against the fence. Remembering
something he’d read about wild animal attacks, he raised the buckets above his
head and roared, trying to sound like a bear. From the other side of the fence,
Cheddar barked.

That helped. The emu turned its head to the side and grunted. He
stepped sideways, making his way toward the water trough. The giant bird
followed him, lowering its head as if it wanted to drink from one of the
buckets.

“Is that it?” he asked, placing the bucket on the ground. “You want a
drink?”

The bird stepped right over the bucket, heading toward him. And now,
another emu, this one a few inches taller, approached. “Oh, no you don’t,” he
shouted, shooing the emus away with his hands. Picking the buckets up again, he
walked along with both emus at his left side. He dumped the water into the
trough, expecting they’d stay to drink. Instead they followed him back to the
gate, where Rosie waited in her work clothes.

She opened the latch on the gate, but held it shut. “These guys have no
concept of personal space, especially when you’re wearing something shiny.”

He held up his left hand and pointed to his gold watch. “So they’re
after my watch?”

“Yep. I like to think of them as overgrown parakeets.” She hissed at
the emus, causing them to back away from the gate.

As she swung it open, he stepped through. “I had a parakeet once, but
only for a week.”

She latched the gate closed. “What happened?”

“My parents wouldn’t let us keep it. Apartment rules. My brother snuck
pets in all the time, though.”

Rosie brushed the hair out of her face. “I could never have pets when I
was a kid either, at least not until I came here.”

 “Because you lived in apartments?”

“Because of my stepdads. The first one didn’t like animals. The next
one didn’t have enough money. And the third was just too mean.” Was that why she
took in abused and abandoned animals? Because she’d lived with an abuser?

“When did you come here?”

She took the empty buckets and headed for the barn. “I came here on my
own when I was twelve.”

“Meaning, you ran away?”

“Not exactly. One day, when I’d had enough of my stepdad, I bought a
bus ticket with some money I’d saved. Mom must have thought I’d come back after
a week or two. I never did. It took Mom another year of abuse before she
realized she was better off without him.” Rosie set the buckets inside the barn
and switched off the light.

He helped her pull the door shut. “So he beat her?”

She nodded.

He reached his hand for her forearm, but decided not to touch her. “I’m
sorry.”

“Except for a few semesters at ASU, I’ve lived here ever since. It’s my
sanctuary.” She folded her arms against the cool night breeze. “Thank you so
much for your help. It’s a load off my mind to know the birds have been cared
for.”

 “You remind me of my brother,” he said. It came out before he
considered how she might react.

She double-checked what she was wearing. “Your brother?”

“I didn’t mean you look like a guy,” he stammered. “It’s the way you
are with animals. You seem to know what they’re feeling. My brother was that
way too.”

Her eyes widened. “Was?”

He pushed out the words in a rush. “He passed away last year.” Their
conversation had gotten a little too comfortable—at least for a conversation
with a woman who already had a boyfriend. Then again, maybe her relationship
with Tanner wasn’t as serious as he thought. That was one thing he’d like to
ask Betty.

She watched him with eyes of compassion, waiting for his explanation.

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