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Maybe she’d never find a man who loved her for herself instead of her earning potential, but shecouldstart trying to mend the family bonds that had been broken long ago.
THE THIRTY-MILE TRIPto her family’s Walking Stones Ranch confirmed her second reason for coming back to Montana.
The sheer raw beauty of the rugged mountains on three sides, still heavily cloaked in winter white, felt like a balm to her soul. Whatever else she did—or didn’t—have in her life, this washome.
Her breath caught at the sight of a herd of pronghorn speeding across the valley floor to the left, their white rumps flashing as they bounced over clumps of sagebrush. She pulled to the side of the road and watched until they disappeared.
There were often herds of antelope grazing within view of the narrow, twisting roads that led from the ranch to Garrett Bluff.
“Aren’t they beautiful? So wild and free,”Mom had always said. Even after all her years as a Montana rancher’s wife, she’d pull over, shade her eyes against the bright sunshine to watch them and lose all sense of time and urgency.“Life’s too busy,”she’d say with a smile of contentment.“You’ve got to slow down and just savor it now and then.”
As a child, Jolie had always been impatient. As an adult, she finally understood. “You were right, Mom,” Jolie whispered. “I should have listened to you earlier.”
At the massive gates to the ranch, Jolie slowed, pulled the SUV to a stop and took a deep breath, and then looked out the window at Walking Stones—a hundred-fifty-thousand acres of the most beautiful land anywhere on earth, where rich grassland rose to pine forests rimmed on three sides by jagged, snowy peaks.
High in the foothills, overlooking a steep cliff, lay the boulder-strewn clearing that had given the ranch its name.
Legend had it that each spring and fall, Indian tribes feasted and performed sacred ceremonies below the cliff, then at dawn the chief and elders would climb up to the clearing. The massiveboulders were always found in new positions pointing the tribe to plentiful game, good shelter, and safety from their enemies.
Excitement fluttered through her as she started down the long lane leading to the heart of the ranch. She’d seen everyone at Thea’s wedding on Valentine’s Day, but with all the excitement, and her next-day flight back to California, there had been little time to visit.
Maybe Thea or Bobby would be here. Or maybe—stranger things had happened—Dad would be in a better mood this time, and would even take a few minutes for coffee with her.
During the past three weeks, she’d been to the family’s Community Church twice, but with everyone at the ranch so busy with calving at night, they’d arrived at the last minute and left promptly after Sunday services. There’d been little time for conversation.
Thea had called once, late at night, but hadn’t made it into town, and Jolie had been working too hard at the clinic to get away.Mom, you’re still right after all these years. We should all savor life just a little more.
At the Y in the ranch road, she debated a split second, then took a left toward the barns instead of going up to the house.
Beth, the housekeeper, would probably would be bustling around the kitchen, running the household with her usual quiet efficiency.
But the likelihood of finding any family members there was just about nil—unless they were exhausted after a busy night and catching a couple hours of sleep.
As she drove around the last curve, the main calving barn came into full view. Rolling pastureland rose behind the barns to the north and west, framed on the horizon by the Rocky Mountains. A herd of several hundred heavily pregnant Angus cows were grazing in the pasture behind the barn. Two sorrel horses were saddled and tied out front.
Her father strode out of the barn toward the horses, followed by Bobby.
Robert glanced at Jolie’s car, gave a brief nod of acknowledgment as she pulled to a stop, then turned away to untie his horse.
Nice to see you too, Dad.It never took more than five minutes in Robert’s presence to remember why she’d wanted to move away.
After her mother died unexpectedly from an aneurysm during Jolie’s senior year, Jolie had tried hard to help out until she’d left for college. But to Robert Maxwell, no one was ever good enough, thorough enough, fast enough.
He’d always tried to control his children just as he controlled his business—with an unyielding, unsympathetic hand—and he’d never understood the simple power of love. Standing in his way was like challenging a Brahma.
More than one businessman had failed in town due to Robert’s influence, and Jolie suspected that he’d interfered with all his children’s lives more than they’d ever know.
“Get the lead out, Bobby,” he roared as he swung into the saddle.
Bobby, six feet of pure resentment, angled toward Jolie’s car and met her as she stepped out. “Home sweet home,” he drawled loud enough for their father to hear. “How’s everything?”
“Good. The clinic is almost ready.” She reached forward to give him an awkward hug. “Where’s Thea?”
“She’s up in the northwest pasture, checking heifers.”
“I’m living almost a thousand miles closer to home, and still have trouble making connections with everyone,” Jolie murmured. “I’m glad I caught you.”
From his wind-tossed, jet-black hair to his thickly lashed brown eyes, Bobby had charm to burn and had been spoiledfrom the start—more so after Mom died because he’d been just a preschooler at the time.
