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“So. This is Red Moon Rising.”
Heath’s deep voice surprised her. She turned as he crossed the last few feet to reach them. “It is. Heath Caufield, ranch manager, this is Ev Yost. The younger one,” she added with a smile.
Everett extended his hand.
Heath didn’t hesitate. He took the other man’s hand in a quick handshake, but then released it quickly. Too quickly. As if dismissing him.
“Ev, you’ve got to be hungry,” said Lizzie. “It’s past lunchtime. Come on in and we’ll grab something. I’d like to hear more about Red. His likes and dislikes, his habits. I read all the stuff you guys have online and what your father sent along, but I don’t want to make any stupid novice mistakes.”
“Food and conversation sounds perfect, Lizzie. And fresh coffee would round things off. My to-go cup was fresh six hours ago, but I didn’t want to extend Red’s trip any longer than I had to.”
“That stop-and-go stuff can be hard on trailered stock. Corrie, can you keep an eye on Red for a little bit? Or would you rather take Everett inside for food and I’ll watch the horses?”
“I’ve got my phone.” Corrie patted her pocket. “If there’s a problem, I’ll call right off. But he seems like a gentle giant.”
“He is,” said Everett. “My dad and I hand-raised him from birth, so giving him up was not an easy decision. But we’ve got two up-and-coming stallions with distinct genetics and we need to mix things up a little.”
“Figuring out broad-based genetics versus the strength of family ties is a breeder’s trick.”
“You have been studying.” He laughed down at her. “Well done.”
If she thought Heath’s jaw couldn’t grow tighter, she was wrong. She moved toward the house, then turned. “Heath. Are you coming in?”
“Work to do,” he said curtly.
“All right.” She kept moving. Everett fell into step beside her.
“You guys have a big undertaking here. I checked the online stats. The sheep numbers alone would keep a man up at night.”
“My uncle may have bitten off more than we can chew,” she answered. “But if we can ride the current wave until the shepherds are all back in the valley, I think it can work. We just don’t worry about mundane things like sleep.”
He laughed, reached out and pulled open the screen door for her. “I hear you. Taking this drive was my way of catching a breath. I love my family, but a day or two apart now and again isn’t a bad thing.”
“It makes the reunion that much better.”
“Got that right.” He grinned down at her, then followed her inside, letting the door ease shut behind them.
* * *
“You might want to think about losing the frown now and then. Just a suggestion, of course,” Corrie noted as Heath followed Lizzie and Everett Yost’s progress to the house. “The occasional smile. Conversation instead of grunts. All the things that separate us from the monkeys, Heath.”
“I don’t need advice. I need more ranch hands and longer days and perfect weather for the next four weeks so the first hay gets in under cover and these lambs hit the ground healthy. It’s easy to laugh when everything’s going right.” He thrust his jaw toward Ev Yost and Lizzie as they went up the steps. And when the Yost guy caught the door and Lizzie’s attention right there on his porch, Heath was pretty sure the guy needed to be punched for no other reason than that Heath wanted to wail on something. A flirting cowboy fit the bill perfectly.
“Or when one is at peace with himself and the Lord. With his place in the world.”
“Don’t lecture me, Corrie.”
She aimed a look of warning his way because nobody bossed Corrie around. Ever.
He sighed. “Sorry. I’m tired. I feel like I’m spinning in circles. And that’s not your fault.”
“Sometimes we spin in circles because we’ve misplaced our direction. When we can’t see our way forward we tend to run in place.”
That’s how he felt, but how could he fix it? Could it be fixed?
His phone buzzed a message from Jace. “Gotta get back to the lambing shed.”
“I’ll keep watch here.”
He didn’t look at the house as he retraced his steps to the front barn. He didn’t think about Yost flirting with Lizzie. He refused to imagine her laughing with him over a slapped-together lunch. But he hoped—really hoped—that the Nebraska rancher would get on his way before supper. He was glad they’d trailered the big horse north, saving Lizzie the trip, but the jovial cowboy made Heath look too deep into his heart and soul because Heath hadn’t been able to laugh like that in a long time. Something about having Lizzie here, joining in the dance of ranch chores and campfire evenings, made him wish he could.
