The Wyoming Cowboy

“I had a wonderful evening, too, believe me. If I didn’t say it before, welcome to the Teton Valley Ranch. Now I’ll wish you good-night.”

He left quickly and headed for the van. It was a short drive to the main house where he’d been raised. He pulled in back and entered through the rear door. Ross was still in the den working on the accounts when Carson walked down the hall.

“Hey—” Ross called to him. “How did everything go with the Baretta family?”

“Hang on while I grab a cup of coffee and I’ll tell you.”

“I could use one, too. I’ll come with you.” They walked down another hall to the kitchen, both coughing up a storm en route.

“Where’s Buck?”

“In town, getting some more materials to do repairs on the bunkhouse. He should have been back by now.”

“Unless he made a stop at Bubba’s Barbecue to see you-know-who.”

“Since his last date with Nicole after she got off work, I don’t think he’s interested after all. She called here twice today. He didn’t return the calls.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Buck was a confirmed bachelor, as were they all.

Carson grabbed a donut. The cook, who lived in town, had gone home for the night. They had the kitchen to themselves. No sooner had he brewed a fresh pot of coffee than they heard Buck coughing before he appeared in the doorway.

In a minute the three of them filled their mugs and sat down at the old oak table where Carson had eaten most of the meals in his life with his grandparents. Until he’d gone into the Marines. But he didn’t want to think about that right now. The guys wanted to know how things had gone at the airport.

“Johnny Baretta is the cutest little six-year-old you ever saw in your life.” He filled them in on the details. “He swallowed a couple of bites of that buffalo burger like a man.”

They smiled. “How about his mom?” Buck asked.

Carson took a long swig of his coffee. How to answer them... “Nice.”

Ross burst into laughter. “That’s it? Nice?”

No. That wasn’t it. “When you meet her in the morning at breakfast, you can make your own assessment.” He knew exactly how they’d react. “She’s very grateful.”

Both men eyed him with speculation. Buck drained his mug. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“After breakfast I’ll take them over to the barn and give them a riding lesson. Later in the day I thought they’d appreciate a drive around the ranch to get their bearings, and we’ll go from there. What about you?”

“I’m going to get the repairs done on the bunkhouse in the morning. Then I’ll be taking the Holden party on an overnight campout. We’ll be back the next day.”

Ross got up from the table to wash their mugs. “The Harris party is planning to do some fly fishing. If Johnny wants to join us, come and find me.”

“That boy is game for anything.” Tony Baretta had been a lucky man in many ways. He shouldn’t have been the one to get killed by a roadside bomb. Carson could still hear Johnny say, I loved my dad. The sound of the boy’s broken heart would always haunt him.

He pushed himself away from the table, causing Buck to give him a second glance. “What’s up?”

Carson grimaced. “When we thought up this idea, we hadn’t met these people. It was pure hell to look into that little guy’s eyes last night and see the sadness. I hadn’t counted on caring so m—” Another coughing spell attacked him, preventing him from finishing his thought.

He needed his inhaler and headed for the hall. “I’ll see you two in the morning.” Ross would do a security check and lock up.

Carson had taken over his grandfather’s room on the ground floor. The other two had bedrooms on the second floor. It was a temporary arrangement. At the end of the summer they’d assess their dude ranch experiment. If they decided it wasn’t working, either or both of them could still work on the ranch and make Wyoming their permanent home. He’d already told them they could build their own houses on the property.

Once he reached the bedroom, he inhaled his medication and then took a shower followed by a sleeping pill. Tonight he needed to be knocked out. His old friend “guilt” was back with a double punch. He couldn’t make up to his grandfather for the years away, and no power on earth could bring Johnny’s father back.

Carson must have been out of his mind to think a week on the ranch was going to make a dent in that boy’s pain. He knew for sure Tracy was barely functioning, but she was a mother who’d do anything to help her child get on with living. She had that hidden strength women were famous for. He could only admire her and lament his lack of it.

After getting into bed, he lay back against the pillow with a troubled sigh. He realized it was too late to decide not to go through with the dude ranch idea for the fallen soldiers’ families. He and the guys had put three months of hard labor into their project to get everything ready. The Barettas had already arrived and were now asleep in one of the new cabins.

They had their work cut out for them, but Carson was afraid they’d fall short of their desire to make a difference. In fact he was terrified.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING Tracy pulled on a pair of jeans and a sage-colored cotton sweater. It had a crew neck and long sleeves. She’d done some shopping before this trip. If it got hot later in the day, she’d switch to a blouse. The cowboy boots she’d bought last evening felt strange and would take some getting used to.

After giving her hair a good brush, she fastened it at the nape with a tortoise-shell clip. Once she’d put on lotion and applied lipstick, a shade between coral and pink, she was ready for the day.

“Who’s hungry for breakfast?” she asked, coming out of the bathroom into the sunny room with its yellow and white motif. But it was a silly question because Johnny didn’t hear her. He’d been dressed for half an hour in his new duds, complete with a black cowboy hat and boots, and was busy loading his mustang again. Already he’d gone through a couple of rolls of caps, waking her up with a start.

She’d bought him three dozen rolls to keep him supplied, but at this rate he’d go through them by the end of the day. It was a good thing the cabins weren’t too close together.

Tracy slipped the key in her pocket. “Come on, honey.” She opened the door and immediately let out a gasp as she came face-to-face with the Grand Teton. In the morning sun it looked so different from last night when she’d had the sensation of it closing in on her. Against an impossibly blue sky, she’d never seen anything as glorious in her life.

Between the vista of mountains and the strong scent of sage filling the dry air, Tracy felt as if they’d been transported to another world. Even Johnny stopped fiddling with his cap gun to look. “Those sure are tall mountains!”

“They’re magnificent!”

She locked the door and they started walking along the dirt road to the sprawling two-story ranch house in the distance. It was the kind you saw in pictures of the Old West, owned by some legendary cattle king.

“I hope they have cereal.”

Tracy hoped they didn’t. He needed to get off candy and sugar-coated cereal, his favorites when he could get away with it. His grandmother made all kinds of fabulous pasta, but he only liked boring mac and cheese out of the box. “Carson mentioned eggs, bacon and buckwheat pancakes.”

“What’s buckwheat?”

She smiled. “You’ll have to ask him.” The poor man had already answered a hundred questions last evening. She’d been surprised at his patience with her son.

Her eyes took in the tourist log cabins where she saw cars parked. Many of the outbuildings were farther away. Last night, Carson had pointed out the ranch manager’s complex with homes and bunkhouses. He’d mentioned a shed for machinery and hay, a calving barn, horse barn and corrals, but it had been too dark to pick everything out. To Tracy the hundred-year-old ranch resembled a small city.

At least a dozen vehicles, from trucks, vans, and four-wheel-drives to a Jeep without a top and several cars, were parked at the rear of the ranch house. She kept walking with Johnny to the front, admiring the workmanship and the weathered timbers. The house had several decks, with a grove of trees to the side to provide shade. The first Lundgren knew what he was doing, to stake out his claim in this paradise.

They rounded the corner and walked up the steps to the entrance. An office was located to the left of the rustic foyer. At a glance to the right, the huge great room with a stone fireplace led into a big dining room with wagon-wheel chandeliers.

“Hi! Can I help you?”

Johnny walked over to the college-aged girl behind the counter. “Hi! We’re waiting for Carson.”

The friendly brunette leaned over to smile at him. “You must be Johnny Baretta from Ohio.”

“Yup. What’s your name?”