His attention remained focused on Torie for a moment before he lifted his head. He squinted as he looked up at Ellie. There seemed to be no spark of recognition in his eyes. Only a blank stare.
“I’m sorry my daughter was so forward. I’m afraid she’s quite an animal lover.” Reaching for Torie, she said, “Give someone else a turn now, honey.”
Awareness flickered in his eyes, and he shot the child an assessing look. “Same red hair. I should’ve known.” His voice was as flat as his eyes, yet she read an angry denunciation in them.
“It’s been a long time,” she said.
“Yeah.” No smile. A single word in bitter acknowledgment.
The sting of his response forced her to look away. She had no reason to expect anything more, but it still hurt. “Who wants to pet Sheila next? Remember to be gentle.”
She drew Torie to her side, a protective hand on her daughter’s shoulder.
“Sheila’s a very nice doggy, Mommy. Maybe someday we could have a doggy, too?”
“We’ll see.”
As Carson approached Sheila in his wheelchair, Arnie’s brows tugged together in apparent confusion. He glanced back at Ellie.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“I’m teaching at Ability Counts Preschool. I started this week. Four-year-olds.”
“That’s ironic, isn’t it?”
Before she could explain how she’d worked hard to earn her degree in early childhood education and added an elementary school teaching credential to her résumé, Arnie’s younger brother, Daniel, sauntered out of the barn. Easily recognizable with his long legs and the cocky way he wore his hat on the back of his head, he called to the youngsters.
“Hey, what’s taking you guys so long? Isn’t anybody planning to go riding today?”
Instantly, the children lost interest in Sheila. They walked, ran and wheeled their way to the barn. In a quick maneuver, Arnie turned his wheelchair around and drove purposely after them.
Vanna and Ellie followed more slowly. A woman in her late sixties, Vanna stood nearly six feet tall and wore her gray hair closely cropped. But it was her smile and obvious love for all “her children” that endeared her to those who attended the preschool as well as their parents.
“The two young men hosting us have been a wonderful help to the school,” Vanna said. “Arnie’s on our board of directors, a very valuable resource. He’s also on the Bozeman Paralympics board. He’s trying to start a regional program to train local teenagers with physical disabilities for Western riding events. All the organization offers currently are English-style equestrian events, which leaves some of our kids without an event that appeals to them.”
At some level, Ellie wasn’t surprised that Arnie was involved with programs for people with disabilities. Of the two brothers, Arnie had been the serious, solid one, often at odds with his wilder, more rambunctious brother.
As a nineteen-year-old, Ellie had been stretching her wings, ready to try anything, while Arnie generally watched with amusement as she tried to break her neck with some half-baked stunt Daniel had cooked up.
Arnie, in his quiet way, had given her balance when she needed it. She hadn’t had that anymore when she first moved away to Spokane, to her regret.
Arnie and Daniel separated the two groups of youngsters. Daniel took his clutch of four-year-olds into the corral to ride, while Arnie lined up his kids for a lesson in grooming horses.
Needing to keep her distance from Arnie, not wanting to feel that tingle of excitement or the slashing pain of guilt, Ellie followed Daniel into the corral. He introduced the children to Marc, an older teenager who would assist the kids.
Daniel turned to Ellie. “If you can help out, that’d be …” He stopped midsentence and frowned. “Ellie?”
At his recognition, her first smile since she arrived at the ranch lifted her lips. “The bad penny has returned.”
“Hey, no, it’s great you’re back.” He glanced toward the barn and frowned. He hesitated. “Does Arnie know?”
“Yes, we’ve said hello.” Barely. His greeting had been less than enthusiastic, which she should have expected.
With the ease of a working cowboy, Daniel picked up Carson and hefted him into a special saddle on a sorrel. He began securing the grinning boy so he couldn’t fall off. “Yeah, well, that’s Arnie for you. The quiet brother. I know who’ll really be glad to see you again.”
“Who’s that?” Most of her high school friends had moved away, and she’d lost track of them.
He instructed Carson to sit tight until everyone had mounted. “Mindy. You know, Aunt Martha’s grandniece?
She’s Mindy O’Brien now.” He stood a little taller, and his chest puffed out with pride.
Ellie’s eyes popped open and her jaw dropped. “You married Mindy?” A couple of years older than Ellie, Mindy had helped her learn to knit one long-ago summer, when Mindy was visiting her aunt.
“Yep. Tied the knot last spring.” He bent a little closer to her. “We’re expecting a baby come the end of the year.”
She gasped with delight and covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, that’s wonderful! We were friends only that one summer, but I remember her well.” She glanced around. “Is she here now?”
“Nope. She manages Aunt Martha’s Knitting and Notions shop. She’ll be back in time for supper.”
Daniel moved on to boost Torie into the saddle of a buckskin who’d been waiting patiently for a rider. Her skinny, bare legs poked almost straight out to the sides.
“What’s my horse’s name?” Torie asked.
“This is Patches. He’ll take real good care of you.”
“I like Patches!”
As Ellie helped Shane mount, she promised herself she’d stop by the knitting shop as soon as she could find the time. It’d be great to see Mindy again. She certainly hadn’t expected her friend to return to Potter Creek after she’d gone back to Pittsburgh without saying goodbye to anyone.
Then again, when Ellie left Potter Creek, she hadn’t expected to return home to stay, either.
But fate—and in Ellie’s case, a good dose of stupidity—
had changed the best-laid plans. An unintended pregnancy plus a man who had no intention in being a father changed a lot in a woman’s life.
She sincerely prayed this current change was one for the better.
Chapter Two
Talk about being skewered by a wild bull!
That evening on the back porch of the ranch house, Arnie forked the three T-bone steaks he’d barbecued onto a serving platter. He’d spent the better part of the afternoon thinking about Ellie James and how she’d showed up out of nowhere. He could’ve been knocked over by a newborn calf.
She taught handicapped kids.
She’d walked out on him after the accident, unable to face life with a cripple. Probably a good decision, he admitted. The best thing for her. But not for him, he thought selfishly.
Was she living some sort of a twisted penance now? Forcing herself to care for those who repulsed her?
She had a daughter, a beautiful sprite of a child with Ellie’s lush red hair that captured sunbeams and the same hint of freckles across her nose.
Where was