Love Without End (6 page)

Because the ranch was a good piece from the town of Kings Meadow, Violet Leonard—once a schoolteacher—offered to tutor Anna instead of sending her to school by horseback five days a week, especially since winters could be harsh in the mountains. Anna was grateful. She loved to learn, had always been a good student, but the less she was seen outside of the ranch, the better.

In the crisp days of autumn, when Anna wasn’t working on her school lessons, she spent a good deal of time outdoors, helping with the chickens and cows, mending fences, and working with Shiloh’s Star.

“You know your way around a horse,” Abe commented one hazy October afternoon. “Where’d you learn so much so young?”

In a steady rhythm, Anna ran a brush, followed by her free hand, over Star’s back and rump. “My father. Only thing Daddy loved more than horses was Mama and me.” She smiled even though her heart ached at the memory. “That’s what Mama always said to him. And he always said he loved us more, but he understood horses better than any female.”

Abe chuckled. He had a nice laugh.

“Before he went to war, Daddy bought Shiloh’s Star and promised that when he came back, we were going to raise
champions by him one day. That was his dream. He worked hard to make it happen. Now it’s up to me.”

“Where’d your horse come from?”

“Texas. His bloodlines trace right back to Shiloh himself.”

Abe leaned his forearms on the top rail of the corral. “Afraid that doesn’t mean anything to me.”

Anna turned to look at him, her eyes wide. How could anyone not know that name? She’d heard about the famous stud since she was a toddler. “Shiloh’s one of the foundation sires of the Quarter Horse breed.”

“Sorry. Never been around fancy horses. You know, with pedigrees and such. The ones we’ve got on the ranch are here to ride and to pull. They work hard, like everybody else on the place. Doesn’t matter if they’re thoroughbreds or mustangs.”

“Maybe you oughta think about raising Quarter Horses. All it would take to get started is a couple of good brood mares, and Star could do the rest.”

Abe’s gaze shifted beyond the corral, looking over the land where cattle grazed. “My grandpa came to this valley back in 1864. The gold rush was raging up in the Boise Basin. All of those miners needed food, and they liked their beef when they could afford it. So he raised cattle to sell to them. Before I was born, my pa managed to triple the size of the original ranch. People knew they could come to the Leonards and get a fair price for beef on the hoof.” He rubbed a hand over his face, as if to wipe away a bad memory. “The Depression was hard on us. I was fourteen—your age—when the crash happened, but I was old enough to notice how the years that followed turned my pa into an old man. Then Grandpa George, his father, died, and not long after, my mother passed too. Pa just gave
up. Gave out, more like it.” Abe fell silent for a while, then continued. “By the time he passed away, I was already managing the ranch, married to Vi, and making sure we could hold onto the place. We’d weathered the Depression without losing it or selling off chunks of it. Even in hard times, folks want to eat beef. I reckon the same can’t be said for horses.”

In the months Anna had lived with the Leonards, those were the most words she heard Abe say at any given time. He was a tall, quiet sort, even around his wife. A wife he loved, sure and true. The way Daddy had loved Mama.

Anna swallowed the lump in her throat and went back to brushing Shiloh’s Star. Another time she would talk to Abe again about raising horses. She wasn’t going to give up on her father’s dream, a dream that was now her own, and she couldn’t help believing God had brought her to Kings Meadow to see that dream fulfilled.

Somehow she would make Abe Leonard believe it too.

Five

C
HET WATCHED AS
K
IMBERLY
W
ELCH
’
S SEDAN DROVE
away from the house and barnyard, her daughter in the passenger seat. All things considered, the afternoon had gone much better than anticipated. Tara was a willing student and quick to obey what he said. Of course, it remained to be seen if that was temporary. Eager today. Not so much tomorrow.

With a shake of his head, he walked toward the house. Anna sat on the porch, enjoying the pleasant spring day, a glass of iced tea in one hand. Chet climbed the steps to the porch and sat in the chair next to her, his gaze on the horses in the nearest pasture.

“How did it go?” she asked.

“Good.” He nodded. “Pretty good.”

“She seems like a nice girl.”

“She is. I just hope I don’t regret bringing her and her horse out here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mrs. Welch doesn’t have a job, and she’s worried how she’ll pay me for the boarding of the horse and her daughter’s lessons.” Chet shrugged. “Not like it will make or break me whether or not she pays me anything, but it seems to bother her. I’m not sure how to handle it.”

“Do you mind an old woman butting into your business? I might have an idea.”

He turned his head toward her. “Wouldn’t be butting in. Not from you, Anna. Anything you’ve got to say, I want to hear.”

Smiling, she reached out to touch his cheek with her fingertips.

“What’s your idea?”

“I wasn’t much younger than Tara when I first came to this ranch. And your grandfather put me right to work. He made me feel like I was a part of the family. That what I did made a difference. Like I belonged here. That girl”—Anna looked down the driveway—“she doesn’t feel she belongs anywhere right now.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“Heavens, no. But, you get to be my age, you pick up on things that others are too busy to notice. Little clues here and there.”

Chet wondered if he would ever learn to read people that well.

“I think you should hire Tara to do some work around here. Let her pay for the training and her lessons herself. Don’t let that fall on her mother’s narrow shoulders. If Tara wants this, she should work for it. It will be good for the girl,
and it will relieve her mother’s anxiety over how to reimburse you at the same time.”

Chet grinned. “You sound like Grandpa Abe.”

“I should. Learned old-fashioned common sense from the Leonards.”

“Tara Welch is a city girl. She might be more bother than help around the barnyard and livestock.”

“Let’s start with her helping me go through things in the guesthouse. There’s lots of organizing and winnowing out that has to be done, and some of it could use a younger and stronger back than mine.”

Chet felt instant concern. “You haven’t overdone, have you?”

“In three days?” She harrumphed, her glance indignant. “I’m not
that
fragile, Chet. There’s still some oomph left in me.”

Her comment made him smile again.

“It’s settled then. Tara will help me organize and clean out the guesthouse as payment for boarding and lessons. There are so many decades of keepsakes and boxes of papers and who knows what all—it’ll take us weeks to go through it all.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” Chet laughed softly.

Anna sighed as she leaned back in the chair, then fell into silence as she sipped her tea.

“I’d better call her mother and tell her what’s been decided.” Chet stood. “Make sure it meets with her approval.”

“Yes, you should do that. It’ll take some worry out of Mrs. Welch’s pretty eyes.”

Chet hesitated a moment. Anna was right. Kimberly
Welch
did
have pretty eyes. Unique eyes. A lighter shade of green than he’d seen before. Or maybe they only seemed lighter because of her dark brown lashes and eyebrows.

Not that any of that mattered to Chet.

“M
OM
,
IF
I
TOOK A DRIVER
’
S
ED CLASS
, I
COULD GET
my license. Then I could drive out to the Leonard ranch by myself if you didn’t want to take me or if it would be too late for me to ride my bike home again.”

Kimberly looked up from the food on her dinner plate. “You aren’t sixteen yet.”

“In Idaho, kids can sign up for driver’s ed when they’re only fourteen and a half. That’s what one of the girls at school told me.”

Kimberly turned from her daughter to Janet. “Is that true?”

“Yes. Idaho’s a rural state. Farmers want their kids to drive tractors or be able to take the truck to the nearest town to pick up supplies. Plenty of folks in these mountains have been driving anything and everything since they were fourteen.”

Kimberly shook her head in disbelief.

“Please, Mom.”

“Sweetheart, even if you took a class and got licensed, I don’t think I could afford insurance for you. Not until I get a job.”

Tara dropped her fork onto her plate and pushed back her chair. “It isn’t fair. That’s always your answer. We don’t have the money. I
hate
this!” She darted from the kitchen.

Kimberly fought the tears that flooded her eyes, determined they wouldn’t fall.

“Teenagers are like that sometimes,” Janet said softly. “It isn’t personal. Not really.”

“I know.” She drew a deep breath. “What Tara doesn’t seem to know is how much I hate having to say no to her.”

Janet patted Kimberly’s shoulder. “Hang in there, girlfriend. It’ll get better.”

Would it get better? It didn’t seem that way.

The telephone rang, and Janet got up to answer it. A moment later, she said, “It’s for you, Kimmie. Chet Leonard.”

Her stomach flip-flopped at the sound of his name. If he’d changed his mind—and why else would he be calling?—Tara would blame her for that too. With great reluctance, she walked to where Janet stood holding out the receiver. She took the phone and put it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Mrs. Welch?”

“Yes.”

“Chet Leonard.”

She could hardly hear him over the hammering of her heart
.

“About your daughter and her horse.”

“Yes?” The word came out a breathless whisper.

“I know you’re concerned how to pay for the boarding and lessons, but I think we have a solution. Instead of you paying cash, we thought Tara could work for us here on the ranch.”

There came those tears again. Nothing Tara could do on the ranch would come anywhere close to covering his fees. She was certain of that. His generosity touched her, as did his sensitivity toward her situation. He’d managed to let her keep a little of her pride.

“It would mean she’d have to spend more hours out here. Not just when she’s working with the horse.”

“What . . . what would she be doing?”

“It’ll probably change over time. But to start, she’d be helping Anna sort through boxes and such in our old guesthouse. She can help feed the horses and shovel out stalls too.”

“Mr. Leonard—”

“How about you call me Chet and I’ll call you Kimberly?”

“Sure. Okay. Chet, how often would you need Tara to come out to work?” The price of gas flashed in her head, followed immediately by the small balance in her checkbook.

“Saturdays and a couple other days during the week until school lets out. More often during the summer.”

She released a soft sigh. “It sounds very generous.” Too generous, perhaps, but an offer she couldn’t refuse.

“Great. Then let’s plan for her to start next Saturday morning. She can help Ms. McKenna for a few hours, and then Tara and I will do some work with her horse.”

“All right. Thank you, Mr. L—Chet.”

He was silent a moment before saying, “You’re welcome, Kimberly.”

Six

T
HANKS
TO
J
ANET
, K
IMBERLY RECEIVED A CALL
shortly after eight o’clock on Monday morning with the offer of a temporary position at an insurance agency. The regular receptionist/secretary/girl Friday had taken a bad fall while hiking over the weekend, breaking several bones in her right leg and ankle, and was awaiting surgery in a Boise hospital. Kimberly would be needed to fill in for at least four to six weeks. Perhaps longer.

To Kimberly, four to six weeks’ worth of wages sounded wonderful after such a long stretch without any income. She wasn’t the fastest of typists, but she was accurate and organized, and she had a nice—if slightly dated—wardrobe for work attire.

By ten o’clock that morning, Kimberly was at the office learning the ropes. Her employer, Christopher Russell, was an affable bear of a man. He was at least six feet four and must have tipped the scales at two hundred and seventy-five pounds.
He not only dwarfed Kimberly, he made the office space seem too small as well. Nonetheless, she liked him at once.

She returned home shortly after five that evening, tired but surprisingly satisfied. Another surprise awaited her in the kitchen. Tara was helping Janet with dinner preparations—and she seemed happy about it. Hope blossomed in Kimberly’s heart. Maybe they were over the worst of their trials. Maybe this was the beginning of a new era for the two of them. Maybe Kimberly wouldn’t have to disappoint her daughter again. Or at least not on a daily basis.

“How was school?” Kimberly asked when they sat down to eat. It was a question she asked of Tara most weekdays.

Instead of the usual shrug and a grunt, Tara answered, “Pete Leonard’s in my English class. I thought he looked familiar when I saw him yesterday. Anyway, Pete said I can start riding with him and his brother this week if I want. That way you won’t have to drive out there so often.”

Kimberly had a job now, temporary as it was. She could afford to do a little more driving. But that was no reason to refuse Tara’s request.

“Please, Mom. I’ll ride my bike if I have to when you’re working or when I can’t catch a lift with Pete and Sam. But riding with them will give me more time with my horse and to do whatever Ms. McKenna or Mr. Leonard need me to do.”

“All right, honey.” She smiled and nodded. “But you’ll have to confirm with Mr. Leonard that it’s still all right for you to ride with his sons. And you also need to ask what afternoons he wants you to come. Your lessons have to be on his schedule, not yours.”

“I’ll call him right now.” Tara started to rise.