“Maybe I can be with you?” Zeke had started for the stairs, but he paused and looked back at Lizzie. “Like while Dad’s working and Cookie’s busy. I won’t get in the way.” He shook his head in an earnest attempt to convince her. “I like almost never get in the way.”
Cookie bit back a laugh.
Heath didn’t. He slanted his gaze down. “Miss Lizzie will be busy. You stay here with Cookie. Got it?”
Zeke peeked past him to Lizzie, then sighed. “Yes, sir.”
“But for now we can have lunch together,” said Lizzie as she followed Zeke up the stairs.
He couldn’t stop Zeke from eating with Lizzie, and the reality of having her here was a done deal. But he could set limits when it came to Zeke. He was his father, after all.
But when Zeke aimed a grin up to Lizzie and she smiled right back down, another dose of reality hit him.
He couldn’t enforce sanctions on emotions. And from the way his son was smiling up at Lizzie, then reaching for her hand...
He swallowed a sigh and headed for the barn.
Emotions and Lizzie were a whole other rodeo. One he knew too well.
“Sean did something your father never seemed to understand,” Corrie said softly as she and Lizzie approached the stablemaster’s quarters after a quick lunch. She indicated the sprawling ranch around her and the pristine buildings, a trait for classic perfection that came straight from Lizzie’s grandfather. “He worked hard and made his own success.”
In sheep...and now horses. Only he was gone too soon.
Lizzie found the whole thing pretty unbelievable, even though she was a huge fan of great woolens made by pricey designers. Or had been, when she’d had money for such things.
“Liz.”
Oh, be still her heart, hearing Heath’s voice call her name. She’d hoped for that long ago. Prayed for it. It had never happened, but for one swift moment she longed to turn and run to him, like she’d done long ago.
She didn’t.
She tucked the momentary surprise away. She stopped moving to let him catch up, but then another cowboy came their way on horseback. He drew up, dismounted and gestured toward the western hills.
A deep furrow formed between Heath’s thick, dark brows.
A long time ago she would have smoothed those furrows away. Not now. She’d learned a hard lesson back then, but one she carried with her still. Strength and independence had become her mainstay and they had gotten her this far.
He turned back toward the long drive, then whistled lightly through his teeth. She used to call that his pressure cooker release valve, when they were young and in love. But that was a long time ago, too.
“If you’ve got work, Heath, we can find our way around,” she told him. “We’ll take our own personal tour of the place.”
He went all Clint Eastwood on her. He didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t roll his shoulders the way John Wayne would have. But then, she wasn’t exactly Maureen O’Hara, either.
Then his expression darkened. “There’s a problem up top.” He pointed toward a far-off pasture dotted with hundreds of recently sheared sheep. “Some folks hiked in and thought they’d set up camp. Campers mean campfires, and if you’re green to these parts, you don’t always understand the dangers. And even though it’s still spring, we don’t encourage people to camp on the ranch. I’m going to head up and explain where the campgrounds are.”
“He didn’t tell them to move on?” Lizzie motioned toward the cowboy moving toward the barn.
“Jace did. They called him names and didn’t believe he had the authority to evict them.”
“Called him names?” Lizzie stared after the retreating cowboy before bringing her attention back to Heath. “I don’t—”
“Slurs,” said Corrie.
The older woman lifted her chin and Lizzie finally understood. The trespassers had spurned Jace because they doubted a black man had the authority to send them packing. “Someone called him out because he’s dark-skinned? That’s some crazy, foolish nerve right there. Want help moving them off?” She raised her gaze to Heath’s and stood firm. “Give me a horse. One of the ranch ponies. I’m ready to ride.”
“Whoa, girl.” Corrie put a hand on her arm. “I appreciate your willingness to stand up for truth, justice and the American way, but how about we unpack before you get yourself shot again?”
“Again?” Heath looked shocked.
“Grazed. No biggie. Part of the job, at least the one I had back then.”
“What kind of a job allows shooting at women?”
“I was overseeing the Mid-Central region, from Ohio to Indiana and all points south. A political story got too hot and I was with the investigative team when someone tried to scare them off. I got grazed by a bullet. It was long before the executive team decided that having a Fitzgerald on staff seemed imprudent while the company crashed and burned, taking a lot of people’s money with it. Bad press is bad press.”
“They fired you because of your father?” His brows drew together again. “Who does that kind of thing? If we all got fired because we had lousy parents, there would be a lot of us out of a job. Including me.”
“Publishing is different now,” said Corrie as Jace led a second mount out of the nearby barn. “It’s not like it was when I started with the Fitzgeralds and I don’t know that it will ever be that way again. There’s not a newspaper or news media corporation that can afford to risk their image for the dwindling advertising dollars.”
“I understand taking care of the bottom line. That doesn’t make it right to punish someone for their parents’ mistakes.”
“Lots of things in life aren’t fair,” said Lizzie as the other cowboy mounted his horse and came their way. “We cling to our faith and hold tight to the reins.”
“And trust the good Lord to look after us, same as always,” added Corrie.
“Jace, this is a family friend. Cora Lee Satterly. And Sean’s niece, Elizabeth Fitzgerald.”
“A pleasure, ladies.” He looked toward Heath. “Are we good?”
Heath nodded. “Let’s go.” He tipped his hat slightly toward Corrie. Just a touch to the brim. “I’ll see you later. Make yourselves at home.”
He said nothing to Lizzie.
She refused to let it get to her.
She’d made mistakes. So had he. But faith and a solid work ethic had pulled her firmly into the present. She’d stayed the course, gotten her education, and now was at the helm of a teetering agricultural business worth a small fortune while he ran the large sheep ranch alongside.
A horse stamped its foot, wanting attention. Another one followed suit.
She walked to the barns, determined. She’d get to know the horses, then the finances, then the horses again. One way or another she’d do right by both.
* * *
Anger formed a burr deep in Heath’s chest and hadn’t let loose in the two hours it took for him and Jace Middleton to ride into the hills, ask the campers to leave, then keep watch while they did.
By the time they’d packed their camp and pulled away in a huff,