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Kristin finished tidying her office and sank onto the sofa. It had been a long day. Chase’s recovery had gone so well that she’d allowed Webb to take the boy home on condition that he rest in bed. By then she’d had patients arriving. She’d cleaned up the blood in the surgery, ushered Logan out the door with orders to get some rest, and resumed her regular schedule.
She’d been so busy, and so tired from the long night, that she’d barely noticed the sound of thunder and the drumming on the roof. Even her windows were kept curtained for the privacy of her patients. Now she leaned back and let the sound wash over her. People would be celebrating all over the countryside. If Logan were here, she would celebrate with him. But she had sent him away.
Was this what she wanted? Her practice was fulfilling, but she needed more. She needed Logan in her life—his warm support, his passion, his love. She needed to fall asleep in his arms and wake up to his kisses, to give him a family to replace the loved ones he’d lost.
Her mother, Sarah, had managed it all. Could she?
If only Sarah were here. What would she say?
Her musings were interrupted by a knock on the front door. Blast, she should have hung out the CLOSED sign before settling down to relax. Probably some emergency. But no rest for the wicked.
Pushing to her feet, she hurried to open the door.
Logan stood on the porch, drenched in rain. His face wore a happy grin. He held out his hand. “Miss Kristin, come on out,” he said. “I want to do something I’ve never done before, and I want to do it now.”
“Have you gone mad? It’s raining.”
“I know. And I want to kiss you in the rain, for the whole world to see. And then I want to dance with you, as best I can manage.” He tugged at her hand. “Come on. When will we get another time like this?”
Laughing, she ran with him, out into the rain.
EPILOGUE
Spring, nine months later
JOSEPH PERCHED ON THE LOG FENCE, WATCHING HIS UNCLE’S NEWtwo-year-old colts race around the pasture. Shipped from Texas by rail and driven in a herd from Miles City, they were wild and skittish. But as they galloped along the fence line, their manes and tails flying, they were so beautiful that they took Joseph’s breath away.
He was already picking out his favorites. “Look at that palomino!” he exclaimed, pointing. “And that little chestnut filly! And that big black one—he looks like the boss!”
Standing beside him, Uncle Logan chuckled. Getting these horses here, to raise and break, had been his dream. Now, with the first twenty animals, that dream was coming true.
“Don’t just look at their colors, Joseph,” he said. “Look at how they’re built—those powerful hindquarters for holding their weight against a roped steer. And their necks are strong and set forward, so they can work with their heads lowered. These horses are bred for working cattle. They’re smart and they’re fast.”
“How fast?” Joseph asked.
“They’re made for short, quick sprints. They can outrun any other kind of horse for a quarter of a mile. That’s why they’re called quarter horses.”
“Those are right fine horses, Logan,” Blake Dollarhide said. “But I’d say you’ve got your work cut out for you.”
“I’m planning on it taking all summer,” Logan said. “They’ll have to be green broke, then saddle broke, then trained with cows. I’m hoping they’ll be ready for fall roundup.”
“But who’s going to buy those fancy animals when our old horses do fine?” Blake asked.
“Word will get around. I’ve already promised Webb his pick. If he likes the first one, he’ll likely want more.”
“Well, the bastard can afford it.” Blake and Webb would probably never be friends. But at least, with plenty of water this spring, no one was fighting.
“Can I help you with the horses this summer, Uncle Logan?” Joseph asked. “I know they’re too wild to ride, but I could take care of them in other ways.”
“We’ll see. That will be up to your dad.”
Joseph watched the horses, imagining how it would be working around them, making friends with them, maybe even getting to ride them by summer’s end. Perhaps when he was older, he could learn to break and train them, like his grandfather. Joe Dollarhide had possessed a rare gift for working with horses. Maybe he’d passed that gift on to Joseph. It would be exciting to find out.
Last summer the fun times with his friends had turned dark and almost ended in tragedy. Joseph had drifted away from those friends since then—especially after Buck had ridden off and left him at the gunfight, and Cully had failed to warn them of his father’s betrayal. Joseph could forgive, but he couldn’t trust them anymore.
As for Chase, the close brush with death had changed him. His sunny nature had grown darker and wilder. He was no longer interested in the kind of boyish adventures he’d enjoyed with friends before. Joseph had barely seen him since that terrible night.
