Her Cowboy Hero. Carolyne Aarsen

him an ache. And yet, as he looked over the familiar gathering of barns, hay sheds, bunkhouse and main house, he noticed a new addition. Tucked behind a grove of trees, to the left of the main house was another house that had been built while he was gone.

      Was it Keira’s? he wondered as he pulled into the yard.

      Then, as he made that final turn, he saw her.

      Her face was hidden by a misshapen cowboy hat pulled low over her head and a red knitted scarf wound around her neck. A too-large, worn oilskin coat flapped around her legs, meeting laced sheepskin boots.

      It could have been anyone.

      Except Tanner knew that sideways tilt of her head, how she always bunched her hands inside the sleeves of her coats. How, even bundled in winter clothes, he recognized the way her purposeful stride ate up the ground.

      His heart gave an unwelcome thump and his foot hit the brake too hard. His truck slid a foot or two on the packed snow, then came to a halt just as Keira Bannister looked up.

      He knew the moment she saw him. Her hands fell out of her sleeves and dropped to her sides. Her narrow chin came up and her lips thinned. Even though her bangs hung well over her eyes, he caught a glitter in their blue depths that matched the chill of the sky above them. She looked angry, which puzzled him, which, in turn, made him angry.

      She was the one who had broken up with him. He was the one who, if his life was a country song, had been done wrong. What right did she have to be angry?

      He was the one who had tried to get them back together after their breakup when he’d returned from that string of rodeos they’d fought about. But when he’d come back to Saddlebank, she’d disappeared. Hadn’t responded to any of his calls, emails or texts. Absolute silence. And on top of that, she hadn’t even bothered showing up at his stepbrother’s funeral two years ago. Keira had known David almost as well as she’d known Tanner. But in no way did she acknowledge the loss of Tanner’s stepbrother and rodeo partner. She hadn’t bothered to send a note, a card, not even the courtesy of a simple text message.

      What right did she have to look so angry?

      Their gazes held a moment and in spite of the raft of negative feelings the sight of her created, woven through them all was an emotion older and deeper than that new anger and frustration. An emotion that had grown and matured as they grew up together, friends, confidants and then sweethearts.

      Tanner swallowed, as if the tightening of his throat could keep those older feelings from rising up. He was surprised at how easily they returned when he saw her. He had heard, via his stepmother, Alice, that Keira had come back to Saddlebank two years ago. A month after David’s funeral.

      He knew nothing more than that. After David’s death Tanner had had no reason to return to Saddlebank so he had stayed away, working in the mechanic business that had been part of the reason he and Keira had broken up.

      He took a deep breath, clapped his hat on his head and stepped out of the pickup into the chill wind that whistled down from the mountains. The sooner he got this done, the sooner he could be on his way.

      He closed his truck door, tugged on his gloves, turned up the collar of his woolen coat against the cold wind that cut through the yard and walked toward Keira.

      She watched him as he came, her head up, her mouth still a tight line, her cheeks a rosy glow. Blond strands of hair had slipped free from her hat and caught the wind, waving in front of her face. She batted them away, her eyes on him.

      Beautiful as ever.

      He caught the errant thought and pushed it back into the past.

      “Hey, Keira,” he said as he approached her. He stopped himself from adding the ubiquitous how are you doing because it seemed superfluous.

      “Hey, Tanner,” was her tight reply, her breath creating wisps of vapor tugged by the wind as she tucked her wayward hair back under her hat. She reached down and petted her dog, Sugar, on his head, then shot another look at Tanner.

      Sugar released a gentle whine, then trotted over to Tanner and sniffed at him. Then he sat down, looking up as if expecting something from him.

      “Hey, Sugar,” Tanner said, petting the dog, who seemed happier to see him than Keira did.

      He looked back at her. They stood facing each other a moment, like combatants trying to decide who would make the first move. Guess it was up to him. “So how’s your mother feeling?” he asked as Sugar stretched, then returned to Keira’s side.

      “Today is a better day, according to your mom.” She angled her chin toward the main ranch house. “You going in to see Alice? She’s there right now.”

      “I will in a few minutes.” Tanner’s stepmother was a home care nurse and right now her job was taking care of Keira’s mother, Ellen Bannister, as well as babysitting Adana, John’s little girl. John Argall was the ranch’s hired hand. Ellen had taken care of Adana until she had broken her neck in a freak fall and was now recuperating under Alice’s supervision. “I’m actually here to see Monty. He around?”

      Keira shoved her hands back in her sleeves as her hair came free again. “He went to Saddlebank to get the mail and meet up with his cronies at the Grill and Chill. You can call him on his cell.”

      Tanner did a double take. “Monty has a cell phone? Those are words I never thought I’d hear.” He couldn’t imagine Monty, a hidebound Luddite and proud of it, packing a cell phone.

      “Yeah. He got it when Mom had her neck fusion surgery done.” Keira’s hesitant tone generated a thrum of sympathy.

      “I was sorry to hear about the accident,” Tanner said. “Must have been scary.”

      “It was. We’re thankful that nothing...nothing worse happened. It was a bad fall.”

      Keira’s gaze ticked over his, and for a moment he wondered if she was going to say anything about David. Though two years had passed since the accident that killed his brother, Keira and Tanner hadn’t seen each other since his death.

      But nothing.

      Instead, Keira lifted her chin, staring directly at him. Her challenging attitude disturbed him, but it hurt him more. “What do you need to see my dad about?”

      “I have a saddle I want him to fix,” Tanner said. “Maybe I can drop it off and he can call me later?”

      “Dad doesn’t do much leather work anymore,” was Keira’s curt reply.

      This was a surprise. Monty had been in the saddle-making business since he was a boy. He had learned the craft from his father and was a sought-after leather artisan. He had crafted numerous saddles given as awards in rodeos all over the Western states. The last Tanner had heard, Refuge Ranch Leatherworks was still a going concern. “I didn’t think your dad would quit until someone dragged him out of here. When did that happen?”

      “Since the doctor told him to slow down, and I took over.”

      Tanner frowned at that, trying to process this information.

      “So if you want your saddle looked at, I’m the one you need to talk to,” Keira said. Then she spun around and ducked into the shop, Sugar right on her heels. Tanner wasn’t sure whether her abrupt departure meant the conversation was over or that he should follow her into the shop.

      He assumed the latter, returned to his truck and pulled the bronc saddle out of the cab. He walked to the shop, and stepped inside.

      After the glare of the sun on the snow outside, Tanner had to pause and let his vision adjust to the darker interior. He pulled his hat off then looked around the space of a shop that was once as familiar to him as his own home. He would often keep Keira company here when she did piecework for her father. He’d loved watching as she cut and stitched and did the intricate leather tooling on the saddles Monty was known for.

      Neither Keira’s older brother, Lee, or sister, Heather, were interested