The Rancher's Reunion

Annie wore Rose’s plaid flannel robe, twisted, with the collar tucked in. Her hair stood up around her head, like some sort of wayward angel.

“Who’ve you been wrestling?”

“That silly bed, of course. It has more lumps than I remembered.”

“Hey, princess, Rose replaced that mattress as soon as she found out you were coming back.”

“Really? Then I guess I have more lumps than I remembered.” She rubbed her hip.

He chuckled and got to his feet. “Here, sit down.” As she limped past he pulled out the collar of her robe. “You look like you stuck your finger in a light socket.”

“Flatterer.” With nimble fingers she smoothed down her hair and pushed the strands away from her face.

“What are you doing up, Will?”

“A lot on my mind.”

“Me, too.” Easing into the chair, she glanced at him, dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “I guess it’s a bit early for breakfast.”

“A bit.” He glanced at the luminous dial of his watch, then gave her a wink. “But not too early for a midnight snack.”

“Blackberry pie.” They said the words together and laughed.

Will stood. “What do you want to drink?”

“Milk,” she said, using her good leg to gently rock the chair. “And thanks so much, Will.”

He returned moments later, their snacks on a tray, which he set on the rail of the porch. “You know, it’s getting mighty annoying the way you thank me for every single thing.”

“But.” She swallowed hard and blinked furiously. “I mean, it’s not like I live here anymore. I don’t want to mess up your schedule and be a bother.”

So that was what this was all about.

“Annie, we’re your family. This is your home.”

“No.” She reached out a hand to touch his arm and he stepped back.

Annie cleared her throat. “I’m—I’m grateful you and Rose took me in. You certainly didn’t need another mouth to feed, and I’m so appreciative that you put up with me all those years. But, Will, Sullivan Ranch is your home. Not mine.”

“I don’t want your gratitude.” He paused and stared at her. Understanding suddenly broke through the emotions crowding his mind. “Is that why you didn’t come back after college?”

“I did come back.”

“For less than a year.”

She clasped and unclasped her hands.

“Why did you go to Kenya?” He wanted to understand. Needed to understand.

“I had to find my own life, my own place in this world. I honestly felt called to medical missions. Besides, I was itching to get out and see the world.” She tightened the belt on the robe. “They needed me over there, and there wasn’t a good reason not to stay.”

“Even though the situation was tense?” He ran his fingers through his hair. The thought of Annie putting herself at risk chilled him through and through.

“It wasn’t really. Not at first. When they attacked the clinic—” She hitched in a breath. “For the first time in my life I was faced with my own mortality. I realized I might never see the ranch again. The next thing I knew, the embassy was pulling us out. I wasn’t sure where I would go.” She met his gaze. “The timing. Your phone call.”

“You wouldn’t have called?” He turned away and stared out into the night, frozen for a moment by the shock delivered by the truth.

“I know none of this makes any sense to you, Will.”

He shook his head and glanced down at her. “Sure it does. Finally everything is making sense. And I could wring your neck.”

“Good,” she interrupted. “Then nothing’s changed, because you’re always wanting to wring my neck.” She smiled sweetly.

He refused to give in to her humor. Instead, he demanded, “How could you question where you would go?”

She shrugged and bit her lip. “I’m sorry, but the longer I stayed away the harder it was to come back.”

Crouching down, he took her hands in his. They were small and soft, the skin chilled. “Tell me what happened.”

Taking a large breath, she stared ahead, her gaze a million miles away. “I can’t. I wish I could but I seem to have blocked it out. Sometimes at night it starts to come back to me and then—” her gaze connected with his “—nothing. I don’t think I’m ready to remember anything but what they’ve told me.”

Will shook his head.

Annie’s gaze shifted and she stared over his shoulder. “Look,” she said. “The moon.”

He glanced behind him. Sure enough, it was a full moon, unusually bright with a luminescent glow.

“And the way those stars are scattered across the sky,” Annie said. “It’s like diamonds on velvet.”

“I don’t think I could ever leave this place,” he said, leaning against the rail.

“You don’t have to,” she whispered.

Annie scrunched the pillow over her face to block out the annoying sunlight streaming through the lace curtains. At some point in the night her body finally adjusted, and gave in to the luxury of a mattress over the familiar cot she’d been sleeping on for the past two years. She ushered a thank-you to God for the few hours of real rest she’d gotten last night.

A yelp of pain escaped when she sat up. Her leg was painfully stiff from being in the same position so long. The stitches pulled against her skin. She ran a hand over the area. Thankfully, it remained cool to her touch, with no signs of infection peeking out from the gauze. Today she’d remove the dressing and let the incision air.

Annie glanced around. Her room. Except for dusting, everything had remained untouched. When the breeze from the open window whispered past, she could smell the familiar fragrance of lavender mingled with furniture polish. Rose had tucked handmade lavender sachets into every drawer.

The bedroom truly was the only substantial thing Annie had ever called her own. Of course it wasn’t really hers. But a young girl could pretend it was her very own room and pretend she had a real family.

The small space had been a nondescript guest room when Annie had arrived. Over the next year or two Rose had very quietly transformed everything, enjoying every minute of painting the walls, sewing the curtains and picking out colors for a quilt.

Annie fingered the soft, gently worn fabric of the hand-pieced and machine-sewn quilt. “Around The World,” Rose called the pattern. Colors of peach and cream blended together into a soothing patchwork design, with a pale green border.

Around the world. Well, she had certainly done that. All her life, it seemed. She had traveled from town to town with her gypsy mother until being brought to the ranch to stay with Rose.

Why Rose? She’d often asked the question during those first years, trying to make sense of everything.