His stepmother shook her head with an expression of regret. “I’m sorry, but you can’t. I thought while I was here taking care of Ellen, I would get some renovations done on the house,” she said. “So it isn’t livable right now. In fact, I’ve been staying here at the ranch the past couple of nights.”
“So you’re saying I should stay somewhere else?”
“Might be a good idea.”
Her voice held a bite that he was too tired to interpret.
“You can stay here,” Monty said, slapping Tanner on the back. “Give you a chance to spend time with your mother, catch up with us. Keep tabs on your saddle’s repair.”
His stepmother didn’t seem pleased with the idea and he guessed that Keira would feel much the same.
“I don’t think so,” Tanner said. “I’ll try to find a place in town instead.”
“Don’t know if you’ll be able to,” Monty said. “There’s some hockey tournament going on this weekend in Saddlebank. Fairly sure the few hotels we got are full. So I guess you’re stuck here.”
Tanner stifled a sigh, feeling as if he was slowly getting pushed into a tight corner. Never a good place to be. “I’m not sure—”
“Not sure about what? We got plenty of room. John is staying in the house his parents used to live in, and our last hired hand quit on us so the bunkhouse is empty. You can stay there. It’s all ready to go. Trust me, its no problem.”
Tanner was about to object again but felt that doing so would make him look ungrateful and un-neighborly. He eased out a smile. “Sure. I guess I can stay. I’m only here for a couple of days.”
“It will take longer than that to fix David’s saddle,” Monty said. “Besides, you can help. You know a few things about saddle repair. You and Keira used to hang out at the shop all the time.”
“David’s saddle?” Alice glanced from Tanner to Monty, looking confused. “Why does Monty need to fix David’s saddle?”
“I’ve been using it all season and it needs some work,” Tanner said, glancing over at his stepmother. “It got a real working over the last time I competed.”
“You’ve been using it this year?” Alice asked.
“All year,” Tanner replied. “It’s been a busy run.”
“When are you ever going to quit the rodeo?” Ellen asked, a note of disappointment lacing her voice. “Surely your mechanic work keeps you busy enough?”
“It does. But I’ve got some good workers who are running it for me. Just hired a foreman last year so I could do this one last circuit.”
“Will this really be the last?” Monty asked. “I know you cowboys. You don’t quit until you’re dragged from the arena on a backboard. Surely you need to decide when the time comes...” He let the sentence fade away but Tanner finished it for him.
“To hang up my rigging and my spurs,” Tanner said. “Yeah. I know. Hopefully this year will be that year.”
“Why are you using David’s saddle?” Alice asked. “Don’t you have your own?”
Tanner was silent a moment, trying to find the right way to answer her.
“I do. But I wanted to finish what David started before...before he died.” It had been two years since David’s death, and those words could still cut like a knife. “So I thought I would use his saddle and dedicate the season to him. I want to take the saddle all the way to the NFR. But it got busted up at the last rodeo. Monty said he would fix it for me so I could finish with it at Las Vegas.”
He hadn’t told Alice what he’d been doing. He had hoped to surprise her after the season was over and give her David’s saddle as a memento. Tell her face-to-face why he did what he did. Hope that, by some miracle, she would grant him some measure of absolution.
Their eyes held and for a moment, her smile softened and he recognized it for what it was. A small movement toward forgiveness. Then she gave a curt nod and her mouth shifted into the polite smile he knew only too well.
“I think that’s admirable,” she said, her tone impersonal. “I’ll guess we’ll have to see how you do in the end.”
The end. For a brief moment Tanner wondered if there would be an end to his quest. To his desire for some type of reconciliation with the only person he could legitimately call family. His father and stepbrother were gone. He and Alice only had each other. All his life he’d hoped for some kind of relationship with her. While she may not have given birth to him, in truth, she had been the only mother he’d ever know.
But now, as ever, her manner was aloof, reserved and cool.
Time to go.
“So, the bunkhouse?” Tanner asked Monty.
“It’s all fixed up. Do you want me to bring you there? It’s not locked.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll come over with clean sheets for the bed,” Alice said, getting up from her chair.
“Just tell me where they are. I can make a bed.” She was the one who had taught him, after all.
“Of course. I’ll get them for you.”
She left and Tanner caught Ellen watching him, the neck and chest brace supporting her head giving her a vulnerable look. “We’ve missed you, Tanner. I’m glad you’re staying here.” Her voice, sounding so strained created an extra poignancy.
“I’m glad I’m back, too,” he said quietly, though staying on the ranch with Keira so close by was not how he had envisioned his temporary stay.
His mother came back with a stack of sheets and some towels. “I gave you extra. Just in case.”
Tanner gave her a tight nod, then took a step back. “I better get myself set up.”
“And we’ll see you for supper tonight?”
Resistance rose up again but the expectant looks on Monty’s and Ellen’s faces quashed it. Surely he could manage this for these dear people, who had been such a part of his life so long?
“Sure. What time?”
“Come at six.”
He gave them another smile, glanced over at his mother, who stood with her arms crossed, her stolid expression making him wonder if he had imagined that momentary bond.
A few moments later he was walking toward his truck, his breath creating clouds of fog in the chill winter air. He stopped at the truck, dug his keys out of his pocket one-handed and caught a movement from the saddle shop.
Keira stood in the doorway and his heart pounded doubletime in his chest. For a moment his thoughts drifted back to times he would help her in the shop, then go out for a ride in the hills. He watched her a moment, but he could see her eyes weren’t on him. They were on the mountains just beyond the edges of Refuge Ranch.
Her arms were wrapped around her midsection. Then, to his surprise, he saw her hand swipe at her cheeks.
As if she were crying.
* * *
“Excellent meal, Ellen,” Tanner said as he set his knife and fork on his plate and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I haven’t had a good Angus steak for ages.”