More Than a Cowboy. Susan Hornick

the whole point. None of us really know anything, do we? I’ll make this clear and direct. Sarah has a grandfather who feels he’s lost everything. The truth is, he hasn’t.” Tense silence stretched between them. “Mitch isn’t here to speak for himself, so I’ll do it for him. He deserves justice for what you kept from him. I want you and Sarah to come to South Dakota to meet…”

      Haley gasped, certain Resurrection had gut kicked her, but the animal stood quietly, his nose buried in a mound of alfalfa. Her legs threatened to buckle. She shook her head.

      Jared lifted a brow. “Is that a no?” he said in a harsh, raw voice.

      She looked up, forcing herself to meet his gaze without flinching. “That’s a never.”

      “Mitch made bad choices for a lot of years,” Jared said. “In the last few months, he’d turned his life around. He was pulling things together. Trying to right the wrongs.”

      “And for that he deserves…what?”

      His eyes flashed. Haley moved to the corral and stared at Resurrection. Jared moved beside her. “After I left you last night, I thought a lot about everything that’s happened. Mitch walked away from you and Sarah. Away from his responsibilities. I get that. I think I understand some things that I didn’t before.”

      Haley’s hand fisted. “You understand nothing!” She raised her fist to strike him. He caught her hand, his grip around her wrist powerful and painful. She trembled but stared him down.

      If he wanted the truth, she could stomp him into the dust with it. But she couldn’t revisit a place that had taken her years to get past. His grip tightened. She struggled, kicking at his legs.

      “Haley. Stop it.”

      He released her. She stepped back. Several people were staring at them. She turned away and gripped the corral panels with shaking hands. The wound that had never really healed ripped open.

      “Sometimes people aren’t what you think they are,” she said. “Sometimes by the time you figure that out, the chute’s already opened and it’s too late to change the ride. Don’t do this.” He didn’t touch her again, but she felt his hold, like a noose around her neck.

      “This isn’t negotiable, Haley. You can tell your daughter about her father or leave it to a court. Bottom line is she has more family than just you.” He pulled a pen and paper from his pocket and jotted down a number. “It’s time to make things right,” he said, his tone softening. “If I don’t hear from you in three days, I’ll come to Colorado and get you.”

      Haley’s throat closed. “You wouldn’t.”

      Jared took her hand and crammed the paper into her palm. “Three days. Call me.”

      

      Four hours later Haley pulled into the gravel lane leading to Hap’s ranch. She backed the truck and camper under the old pole barn, shut off the engine and leaned back. Gray weathered boards with peeling white paint covered the old house. The out-buildings were ancient and in need of repair, but it was home. The only real home she’d ever known. Her throat tightened. She opened the door and slid from the seat. Across the barnyard, a door slammed. Gravel crunched beneath running feet. Sarah slid to a stop beside the truck, then threw her arms around Haley’s waist.

      “You’re back. I’m sorry I was mad at you last night. Hap said you had to take care of a grown-up thing.”

      Haley looked into Sarah’s gray-green eyes. The innocence and resiliency of her own childhood seemed like a distant memory but one she needed to preserve in Sarah.

      How much she had lost. But how much she had gained.

      “Hap’s in the barn. Annie had her puppies last night. He said he needed to talk to you as soon as you got home.”

      “Then I’ll go see him.”

      Sarah headed for the house. Haley crossed the barnyard and pulled the barn door open. Bales of fresh hay filled the usually musty barn with a fresh, clean scent.

      Hap rose, lifting two squirmy mounds of black and white in his gnarled hands. “Born last night, just after we got home,” he said. “Nice pups. Should bring a good price.” He set the pups down and avoided looking at her. “Sam McIntosh called.”

      Air whooshed from Haley’s lungs. “Sam?” She managed to choke out the association president’s name. “What did he want?”

      “Seems someone has requested an inquiry into Mitch’s accident. Sam thought you should know.”

      Someone. Jared.

      Haley’s legs wobbled. She slid onto a bale and stared at the ground.

      “You’re on leave until the official inquiry is closed,” Hap said quietly.

      Suspended. Her livelihood and hard-earned reputation hung in the balance, dangling from a hangman’s noose. And she knew who held the rope.

      “Sam said it’s just a formality and he was sure the ruling would be in your favor. Guess I don’t need to ask how your meeting with Sinclair went.”

      

      Three days passed like a year. Every day Haley watched the road, waiting for Jared to make good on his promise. He was never far from her thoughts, and she hated the way he’d taken root in her mind, and stolen her sense of security and peace. She sent Sarah into town with Hap, knowing full well it would incur Jared’s anger if he arrived and she wasn’t there, but if he thought she would lie down and play dead so he could issue ultimatums and walk all over her, he could think again.

      She drew Annie’s pup close to her face, relishing the softness of newborn puppy. Tiny claws flailed against her cheek. The black nose scrunched, then a wet tongue latched around her nose and suckled. The scent of puppy breath lingered on her skin, fresh and new, helpless and innocent. Innocent. The word seemed to taunt her.

      Mourning doves cooed in the barn rafters. Haley lifted her head and watched the sun slant through the weathered boards. This place had once been her refuge. As a child she used to come here and pour her heart out to God, just as Sarah sometimes did now. She had faith then. It all seemed like another lifetime. If she sought God’s help again, would He hear or turn a deaf ear to her plea like that night so long ago?