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Authors: Tina Leonard

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BOOK: SWEET CALLAHAN HOMECOMING
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“I don’t doubt it,” she said, her voice trembling. “You know I’ve loved you forever. Having you as my husband is all I’ve ever dreamed about. Oh, Jarod, I love you so much. I can’t wait—”

He caressed her hair, which cascaded to her waist, and then his hands fell away. “Tomorrow night we’ll be together forever. But you’ve got to go while I still have the strength to let you go.”

“Why don’t we just leave for the reservation now?”

“You know why. You’re still seventeen and the risk of getting caught is too great.” Jarod reached into his pocket and pulled out a beaded bracelet, which he fastened around her wrist. “This was made by my mother’s family. After the ceremony you’ll be given the earrings and belt that go with it.”

“It’s so beautiful!” The intricate geometric designs stood out in blues and pinks.

“Not as beautiful as you are,” he said, his voice deep and velvety soft. “Now you have to go.” He walked her to her horse. Once she’d mounted, he climbed on his stallion and rode with her to the top of the hill. They leaned toward each other for one last hungry kiss. “Tomorrow night, Sadie.”

“Tomorrow night,” she whispered against his lips.

Tomorrow night. Tomorrow night. Tomorrow night.
Her heart pounded the message all the way home.

* * *

R
EMEMBERING
THAT
NIGHT
now, Sadie felt the tears roll down her face. Their love affair had turned into a disaster, permanently setting daughter and father against each other. She was forced to leave for California and never saw Jarod again. And the Hensons had been left to deal with their drunken boss until the bitter end. Guilt had swamped Sadie, but she’d had no choice except to leave the ranch to prevent her father from carrying out his threat to kill Jarod.

While her mind made a mental list of what to do first before she and Zane left for Montana, she hung up the phone and took a clean cloth to wash Ryan’s face and hands. “Come on, sweetheart.” She kissed his light brown hair. “Lunch is over. Time for a nap.”

While she changed his diaper, she looked out the upstairs window of the house she’d lived in with her mother and Tim on Potrero Hill. The view of San Francisco Bay was spectacular from here.

But much as she loved this city where her mother had been born and raised—where she’d met Daniel when he’d come here on business—Sadie was a Montana girl through and through. With her father’s death, her exile was over.
She could go home.

She longed to be back riding a horse through the pockets of white sweet clover that perfumed the land in the spring. Though she’d made friends in San Francisco and had dated quite a bit, she yearned for her beloved ranch and her oldest friends.

As for Jarod Bannock, eight years of living away from him had given her perspective.

He was a man now, destined to be the head of the Bannock empire one day. According to Liz he had a new love interest. Obviously he hadn’t pined for Sadie all these years. And she wasn’t a lovesick teenager who’d thought her broken heart would never heal after her father’s treachery against Jarod. He’d been the one behind the truck accident that had put Jarod in the hospital. But that was ancient history now. She was a twenty-six-year-old woman who couldn’t wait to take her half brother back to Farfields Ranch where they belonged.

Ryan might end up being her only child, which made him doubly precious to her. One day Ryan Corkin Lawson would grow up and become head of the ranch and make it a success. In time he’d learn how to do every chore and manage the accounts. She’d teach him how to tend the calves that needed to be culled from the herd.

That had been Sadie’s favorite job as a young girl. The sickly ones were brought to the corral at the side of the ranch house. Sadie had named them after the native flora: yellow bell, pussytoes, snowberry, pearly. Ryan would love it!

Before she left his room, she hugged and kissed the precious little boy. While she waited for Zane, she went into the den and phoned the Methodist Church in White Lodge, where she and her mother had once attended services.

In a few minutes she got hold of Minister Lyman, a man she didn’t know. Together they worked out the particulars about the service and burial. The minister would coordinate with the Bitterroot Mortuary, where the hospital would transport her father’s body.

To the minister’s credit he said nothing negative about her father. He only expressed his condolences and agreed to take care of the service. After thanking him, she rang off and sat at the computer to start writing the obituary. She could do everything online. Within a couple of hours the announcement would come out in the
Billings Gazette
and
Carbon County News.
How should she word it?

On May 6, Daniel Burns Corkin of Farfields Ranch, Montana, passed away from natural causes at the age of fifty-three after being the cruelest man alive.

Too many words? On second thought why not make it simpler and put what the munchkins sang when Dorothy arrived in Oz.

“Ding Dong! The Wicked Witch is dead!”

* * *

“H
EY
,
BOSS
.”

“Glad you came in the truck, Ben. I need you to get this new calf to one of the hutches before a predator comes after it. She has a broken foot from being stepped on.” There was no need to phone Liz Henson, White Lodge’s new vet. Jarod’s sister, Avery, could splint it. “Would you help me put her in the back?”

“Sure.” Together they lifted the calf, careful not to do any more damage, but the mother bellowed in protest.

“I know how you feel,” Jarod said over his shoulder. “Your baby will be back soon.”

Ben chuckled. “You think she understands you?”

“I guess we’ll find out the answer to that imponderable in the great hereafter.” Jarod closed the tailgate and then shoved his cowboy hat to the back of his head, shifting his gaze to the new foreman of the Hitting Rocks Ranch. The affable manager showed a real liking for his sister, but so far that interest hadn’t been reciprocated. Ben needed to meet someone else. “You were going to tell me something?”

“Avery sent me to find you. I guess your phone’s turned off.”

“The battery needs recharging. What’s up?”

“She wanted you to know Daniel Corkin died at White Lodge Hospital early this morning of acute liver failure.”

What?

Jarod staggered in place.

Sadie’s monster father had really given up the ghost?

“The Hensons were with him. They got word to Liz and she phoned Avery.”

The news he hadn’t expected to come for another decade or more sent a great rushing wind through his ears, carrying painful whispers from the past that he’d tried to block out all these years. They came at him from every direction, dredging up bittersweet memories so clear they could have happened yesterday.

But Jarod managed to control his emotions in front of Ben. “Appreciate you telling me.” After a pause he said, “If Avery can’t tend to the calf, I’ll call Liz. You go on. I’ll follow on my horse Blackberry.”

Ben nodded and took off.

Long after the truck disappeared, Jarod stood in the pasture to gentle the calf’s mother, adrenaline gushing through his veins. Sadie would show up long enough to bury her father. Then what?

He threw his head back, taking in the cotton-ball clouds drifting across an early May sky. With Sadie’s mother buried in California, it no doubt meant the end of Farfields. Sadie hadn’t stepped on Montana soil in eight years. The note he’d received in the hospital after his truck accident when she’d left the ranch had been simple enough.

Jarod,

You begged me to consider carefully the decision to marry you. I have thought about it and realize it just won’t work. I’m going to live with my mother in California, but I want you to know I’ll always treasure our time together.

Sadie.

For eight years Jarod had done his damnedest to avoid any news of her and for the most part had succeeded.
Until now...

By the time he rode into the barn, twilight was turning into night. He levered himself off Blackberry and led him into the stall.

“You’re kind of late, aren’t you?”

Jarod couldn’t remember when there wasn’t a baiting tone in Ned’s voice. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the youngest of his four cousins walking toward him. Ned’s three siblings were good friends with Jarod.

He scrutinized Ned, who was a year younger than him. Even that slight age difference upset Ned, but the rancor he felt for Jarod ran much deeper for other reasons. They were both Bannocks and lived in separate houses on the Hitting Rocks Ranch, but the fact that Jarod’s mother had been a full Crow Indian was an embarrassment to the bigoted Ned. He liked to pretend Jarod wasn’t part of the Bannock family and took great pleasure in treating him like a second-class citizen.

Ned was also still single and had always had a thing for Sadie Corkin, feelings that were never reciprocated. “It took me longer than usual to check out the new calves. How about you? Were you able to get the old bale truck fixed today or do we need to buy a new one?”

“If it comes to that, I’ll talk it over with my dad.”

Grant Bannock, Jarod’s uncle, was a good man. But he had his hands full with Ned, who’d been spoiled most of his life and did his share of drinking. Jarod often had to keep a close eye on him to make certain he got his chores done. Not even Tyson Bannock, Ned’s grandfather and Ralph’s brother, could control him at times.

Ned had always dreamed of marrying Sadie Corkin and one day being in charge of both ranches. But that dream was in no one’s interest but his own. Ralph Bannock, Jarod’s grandfather, was the head of the ranch and his closeness to Jarod was like pouring salt on Ned’s open wound.

Jarod patted the horse’s rump before turning to his cousin. “Was there something else you wanted?”

Ned had looped his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans and stared at Jarod, who at six foot three topped him by two inches. Jarod saw a wild glitter in those hazel eyes that felt like hatred, confirming his suspicions that this encounter had to do with the news Ben had brought him earlier. Now that Sadie would be coming back for the burial, Ned wanted Jarod out of the picture.

“I thought you should know old man Corkin kicked the bucket early this morning.”

Jarod didn’t bother telling his cousin he was way ahead of him.

“If I were you,” Ned warned, “I wouldn’t get any ideas about showing my face at the funeral since he hated your guts.” Jarod noted the heightened venom in his voice.

There’d been a lot of hate inside Daniel that had nothing to do with Jarod. In that regard Sadie’s father and Ned had a lot in common, but no good would come of pointing that out to his cousin.

Jarod’s uncle Charlo would describe Ned as an “empty war bonnet.” The thought brought a faint smile to his lips. “Thanks for the advice.”

Ned smirked. “No problem. Because of you there’s been enough tension between the Corkins and the Bannocks. Or maybe you’re itching to start another War of the Roses and manipulate your grandfather into buying Farfields for you. To my recollection that battle lasted a hundred years.”

“I believe that was the Hundred Years War.” Ned’s ridiculous plan to acquire Sadie and the Corkin ranch in the hope oil could be found there was pitiable. “The War of the Roses lasted thirty years and the Scots only triumphed for ten of them. If my grandmother were still alive, we could check the facts with her.”

Addie Bannock loved her history, and Jarod loved hearing what she could tell him about that part of his ancestry.

Even in the semidarkness of the barn, he detected a ruddy color creeping into Ned’s cheeks. For once his cousin didn’t seem to have a rebuttal.

“Do you know what’s important, Ned? Daniel’s death puts an end to any talk of war between the two families, for which we can all be grateful. I have a feeling this news will bring new life to both our grandfathers. Those two brothers are sick to death of it. Frankly, so am I. Good night.”

As he walked out of the barn, Ned’s last salvo caught up to him.

“If you think this is over, then you’re as
loco
as Charlo.” It sounded like a threat.

Jarod kept walking. Daniel Corkin’s death had shaken everyone, including his troubled cousin Ned.

ISBN-13: 9781460329276

SWEET CALLAHAN HOMECOMING

Copyright © 2014 by Tina Leonard

All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical,
now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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BOOK: SWEET CALLAHAN HOMECOMING
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