Her Cowboy Soldier (5 page)

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Authors: Cindi Myers

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BOOK: Her Cowboy Soldier
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She left in a flurry of gauze skirts and flying pigtails. Home to share her news with the man she loved. A tightness in his chest pinched at him. If he hadn’t known better, he might have thought he was jealous of Erica and George—and Rick and his wife and all those people who had other people to go home to.

How much worse was it, though, for Amy? She had known that kind of love, that connection with another person, and war had taken that away. Josh might have lost a hand in Iraq, but she had lost so much more. He could replace his hand with a hook or a prosthesis, but would another man for Amy be like his hand—a dim imitation of what she really wanted?

Maybe that was at the heart of all his mixed feelings for Amy. As much as her treatment of him in the paper angered him, he sympathized with her plight. The war hurt men and women like her who had waited at home every bit as much as it injured and killed their loved ones who fought. He was one more reminder of that hurt. Just as well she wasn’t planning to stay in Hartland long. Her leaving town would be the best thing for both of them.

CHAPTER THREE

O
F
ALL
HER
jobs at the farm, Amy liked working in the greenhouses best. The long rows of tomatoes, peppers, lettuces and herbs made a fragrant jungle around her as she weeded, pruned, watered and picked. Worries and stress vanished as she focused on the plants. “You have a knack for gardening,” her grandmother told her as the two women worked side by side the morning after the school board meeting.

“Isn’t it funny, since I didn’t grow up around gardening? Mom didn’t even keep houseplants.” The family moved so often plants and pets and other dependents made little sense.

“They say sometimes a talent will skip a generation.” Bobbie leaned over and deftly pinched back a tomato plant. “Your mother didn’t have the patience for gardening. You have to stick around a whole season or more to see the fruits of your labors. She always wanted to move on to the next big adventure. She still does, I guess. Where are your folks now—South America, isn’t it?”

“Chile. Guiding tours to see penguins and whales.”

“That’s all pretty exciting, I’m sure, but I’d rather stay here and watch a plant grow and develop and bear fruit.”

“Look, Mama!” Chloe tiptoed carefully toward them, her eyes fixed on the bright red-and-black ladybug that crawled along her finger.

“That’s a ladybug,” Bobbie said. “She helps protect the plants from aphids and other bad bugs.”

“She’s so pretty.” The ladybug spread her wings and flew away. Chloe’s face fell. “She’s gone.”

“She didn’t go far,” Bobbie said. “She and her friends live in the greenhouses.”

“Then I’ll look for more,” the child said, and skipped away.

“She’s a smart girl,” Bobbie said. “And I don’t just say that because I’m her great-grandmother. She pays attention to things and really listens to what you say. She might end up being a great scientist.”

Chloe
was
smart. Amy wanted to give her every advantage in life—the best schools, stimulating activities—but what parent didn’t want those things for her child? For now, Chloe had found her own little bit of heaven in the greenhouses and fields of Anderson Orchards, where she ruled like a princess in her kingdom, doted on by all the adults.

“Speaking of science, Josh Scofield was at the school board meeting last night,” Amy said as she and her grandmother began to pick peppers from the heavily laden plants in the center of the greenhouse.

“What was he doing there?”

“He asked the board for money to send some of his students to a science bee over in Durango, but they turned him down.”

“What is a science bee?”

“I don’t know for sure. Maybe like a spelling bee, but the contestants have to answer science questions. I guess I’ll find out for sure when we go. I volunteered to help him and to write about it for the paper.”

“I’m glad to see you’re taking my advice about getting involved in the community,” Bobbie said.

“I’m not really going to be involved—I’ll just be observing and reporting on the day’s events for the paper. Ed is always eager to print school news—he says advertisers love it.” She set aside one bucket full of peppers and picked up an empty one. “And I thought I might pitch the story to some national magazines— an example of how to get kids more excited about science or something like that.”

“At least you’ll be meeting new people. It’s a start. When is all this taking place?”

“I’m not sure. Next month sometime, Josh said.”

Bobbie inched her walker forward and scrutinized a yellowing branch on a pepper plant. “Can’t be too much longer. School will be out at the end of May. And it starts back in before Labor Day.” She took a pair of clippers from her pocket and snipped off the offending branch and tossed it aside. “You’ll want to see about getting Chloe enrolled in kindergarten next year. Mrs. Dawson teaches those little ones. You’ll like her.”

“I suppose.”

“You suppose what?”

“I suppose I’ll enroll Chloe in kindergarten if we’re still here in the fall. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do.”

“Where would you go? This is your home.” Bobbie peered intently at her. “Aren’t you happy here?”

“I am happy. But I’ve never lived in a small town before. Right now it’s a novelty, but later...” She let her voice trail away.

“Don’t borrow trouble worrying about what might never come. You’re settling in nicely. You’ve got a job, and friends. You’re making a place for yourself here.”

She was settling in, but was she settling? Hartland felt so peaceful, so safe. Maybe she was only hiding here, protecting herself from hurt instead of getting out into the wider world and developing a thicker skin.

She could almost hear her mother, encouraging an eight-year-old Amy, who had been worried about starting classes at yet another new school. “Doing the easy thing all the time is for cowards,” Katherine Anderson Carruthers had said. “You’re not a coward. You’re going to go out there and show everyone you’re not afraid, and just doing that will make you braver, and next time it won’t be so hard.”

Her mother had been right. By the time Amy was sixteen, starting at a new school wasn’t so hard. But part of that may have been because she hadn’t felt compelled to try so hard to fit in and make friends. After all, she’d be leaving soon, so if the other students didn’t like her, it didn’t matter in the long run.

She thought of Josh and his “in your face” hook, daring people to take him as he was or not at all. She understood that kind of bravado.

“Anything else exciting happen at the school board meeting, or do I need to wait and read about it in the paper?” Bobbie asked.

She wasn’t sure if her grandmother had decided there was nothing else to say on the matter of Amy staying or leaving, or if she was saving her arguments for another time. Either way, Amy was grateful for the change of subject. “A woman named Erica Bridegate was there. She introduced herself as Love Soldier.”

“Hippie-looking chick—tall, with dark hair?”

“Yes. Do you know her?”

“She buys produce from me and asks smart questions about how to grow things. Kelli and Devon Bridegate’s girl. One of those who marches to her own drummer, but nothing wrong with that. What was she up to?”

“She wants to turn the vacant lot next to the elementary school into a garden for the kids. They’d grow vegetables and eat them in the school cafeteria.”

“And the school board thought she was crazy.”

“Not really. She’d done her homework and recruited volunteers and even got folks to agree to donate a lot of the material she’d need for the project. But she asked the school to pay the water bill and that worried the board, because no one knew how much that bill might be.”

“Makes sense. What happened?”

“Josh said he knew about rainwater irrigation systems and offered to help her set up a system to collect rain from the school roof and store it in a cistern to use to water the garden. He said he worked with a couple of systems like that in college.”

“I’d forgotten he went to University of Northern Colorado and got a degree in agricultural science. I think the plan was for him to come home and help his daddy run the Bar S.”

“And then he was hurt in Iraq.” She felt a pang as she said the words. So much loss and pain from that war.

“That was later. First he came home and he and his dad butted heads over the right way to do things. Mitch Scofield can be pretty stubborn, and I imagine Josh takes after his old man. Then Josh shocked everyone when he enlisted. I think one reason he did it was to make Mitch mad, but you never saw two people prouder of their boy than Josh’s mom and dad. It tore them to pieces when he was hurt.”

“Josh lives with them on the ranch?”

“He has a cabin they fixed up for him, so he’s close but not in their back pocket.”

“Am I in your back pocket?” Bobbie had lived alone in the big farmhouse for almost five years before Amy and Chloe moved in.

“That’s different.” Bobbie waved her hand in dismissal. “You and I get along. Josh and his dad still don’t always see eye to eye. It would be like you living with your mother.”

“Mom and I get along.”

“And you get on each other’s nerves, too. Katherine can be plenty bossy, I know.”

Amy bit her lip to keep from pointing out that Bobbie herself liked to do her share of ordering people around. But Bobbie’s bossiness didn’t bother Amy, not the way her mother’s managing ways did. Maybe it was that generational thing again.

“Hello. Anybody home?” Both women turned to see Charla in the door of the greenhouse.

“Hello, Charla. What brings you out our way?” Bobbie asked.

“I was heading back from picking up supplies in Junction and thought I’d swing by and say hello.” She greeted each woman with a hug.

“Supplies weren’t the only thing you bought in Junction,” Amy said. “You had your hair done.”

Charla smoothed a hand over her gleaming blond locks. “I may have indulged in a little freshening up.”

“That ought to impress a certain single banker.” Bobbie winked at Amy, who did her best to stifle a laugh.

“If you’re referring to Clay Westerburg, I already struck out with him.” Charla sighed and leaned back against one of the elevated planting tables, arms crossed over her chest. “We went out and he talked about his ex-wife the entire evening.”

Bobbie patted the younger woman’s shoulder. “The right man will come along when you least expect it.”

“I hope you’re right. Anyway, I didn’t stop by to moan about my love life—or lack of it. I’m recruiting for the booster club. We need chaperones for the prom and the after-prom party.”

“Count me out,” Bobbie said. “I’m too old to stay up that late, and the music the kids play gets on my nerves.”

“What about you, Amy?”

“I don’t think I’m a prom kind of person. I never even went to a prom when I was a teenager.”

Charla’s eyes widened. “You didn’t?”

“I took correspondence courses my last couple of years of high school. We were living in Spain—and then Korea.”

“Wild. Then you should definitely do this. It gives you an excuse to get dressed up and stay up past midnight, and in this town, that’s something.”

“What do the chaperones do?”

“Just mingle among the kids, make sure they stay out of trouble.”

“Will you be there?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

Amy laughed. “You make it sound like a date instead of a duty.”

“We’re the responsible adults and we have to enforce the rules, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun, too.” She pulled a notepad from her shoulder bag and consulted it. “So far I’ve got Teresa Fischer from the bank, Josh Scofield, Rick Southerland, Zach Fremont and his wife, Susie.” She stashed the pad back in her purse. “You’d be the perfect addition. Say you’ll do it.”

Amy shook her head. “I’ll pass.” The idea of hanging out in a social setting with Josh felt awkward; they clashed every time they saw each other. “Besides, what would I do with Chloe?”

“As if I couldn’t look after Chloe,” Bobbie said. “You should go. It would do you good to socialize with people your own age—the other chaperones, I mean.”

“I don’t think so.” Sure, the evening might turn out to be fun. Or it could be a painful reminder of her status as both a local outsider and a single woman. “But thanks for asking.” She avoided looking at Bobbie, though she was aware of her grandmother’s gaze fixed on her. Bobbie wanted Amy to get more involved with the townspeople, but a formal dance was not the place Amy wanted to start.

“Let me know if you change your mind,” Charla said. “There’s always room for one more, though I could use a couple more single men, to make the night a little more interesting.”

“Charla, you’re supposed to be chaperoning, not dating,” Bobbie said.

“In this town, I’ve learned to take my opportunities where I find them. I hear the garage has a cute new mechanic. I think I’ll see if he’s interested.” She fluttered her fingers in a wave and left them.

“Why did you turn her down?” Bobbie asked as she and Amy returned to work. “I doubt the kids would give you any trouble, and you could enjoy an evening with the other chaperones.”

“I just don’t think I’d be comfortable. I’m not ready for that kind of socializing.”

“It’s a small-town prom—not a grand ball. And you’d know almost everyone there. Josh, for instance.”

“I’m not Josh’s favorite person right now. He’s still upset about the story I did for the paper.”

“Yet you’re going to the science bee with him.”

“That’s different. That’s for the paper. I’m not really volunteering—I’m writing about the event for the
Herald.

“There’s more to life than work, you know. You can’t let things get so out of balance.”

Amy knew her grandmother meant well, but she didn’t understand how important work was to Amy right now. The right work would build a good future for her and her daughter. “I’d rather spend time with you and Chloe,” she said.

“Don’t use us as an excuse for hiding from life,” Bobbie said. She put one bony hand on Amy’s shoulder and looked her in the eye. “Just because Brent isn’t here to have fun doesn’t mean you have to punish yourself by never enjoying anything.”

“I...I’m not doing that.” Was she?

“I’d better take these peppers out to the truck,” Amy said. “We need more up at the stand.” She made her escape from the greenhouse, but her grandmother’s words echoed in her head. Was she avoiding the prom out of guilt over Brent’s death? Maybe that was part of it. And maybe she just needed more time before she was comfortable with a social life. She had work and Chloe to keep her occupied; she wasn’t ready to add more.

And maybe, despite her mother’s training, she was a coward. After losing so much, she didn’t want to take more risks. She was afraid to open her heart to pain again.

* * *

O
N
S
ATURDAYS
, J
OSH
helped his dad with whatever work needed doing around the ranch. When Josh had first come back from Iraq, Mitch had been hesitant to let his son do anything, as if the loss of his hand also meant the loss of all his skills. Josh had had to prove he could handle the job—that he could still ride a horse and string fencing and haul feed and all the jobs involved in keeping a big ranch going.

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