Tomas: Cowboy Homecoming Read online

  “Tuf Hart found her walking in the ditch by the road.”

  “Tuf?” One of her father’s shaggy gray eyebrows rose as she placed a cup of hot coffee in front of him. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Dad. I know Tuf Hart.” She stirred milk and sugar into her coffee and sat at the table with him. “He’s changed, though. He’s not that laughing, fun-loving kid anymore. He seems so serious now.”

  “War does that to a man.” Her father took a sip of his hot coffee, making that face he always made when he took the first taste. That oh-I-needed-this look. He sat the mug down. “The family must not know he’s coming or Sarah would have been so excited. He must be planning a surprise visit.”

  She toyed with her cup. “I thought of calling Dinah, but if Tuf wants to surprise them, that’s his business. I’m not getting involved.”

  “Wise decision.” Her dad frowned. “Wonder where he’s been for two years.”

  “Dinah thinks he was wounded and in a navy hospital somewhere recovering and didn’t want the family to worry.”

  “Did he look like he’d been wounded?”

  “He seemed okay.”

  “He’ll have some questions to answer, but like you said, it’s none of our business.”

  “No.”

  Her father eyed her. “So you’re not going to the party?”

  “I’m not rewarding Sadie with fun time. I have to start disciplining her.” And that would just about kill Cheyenne. “I’m going to fix them something to eat and put Sammie to bed. Then Sadie and I are going to have a talk. She’ll shrug and start crying like always. Honestly, Dad, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  He patted her hand on the table. “Just love her.”

  She nodded and got to her feet. “I imagine there’s a lot of celebrating going on at Thunder Ranch right about now. I hope for Tuf’s sake everyone is glad to see him.”

  “Sarah will be happy to see her youngest child.”

  “But what about the rest of the family? The ones who have been struggling to save John Hart’s legacy?” Cheyenne took their cups to the sink. “I’m glad we’re not there. This is family time.”

  “You bet. I’m going to check on the horses.” He ambled back into the living room to get his hat and coat.

  Tuf Hart was home and that didn’t mean a thing to her. She planned to stay away from him, just as she had as a teenager.

  * * *

  TUF TURNED ONTO THUNDER ROAD that led to the ranch. He stopped the truck once again and stared. The big two-story house he’d grown up in was lit up like a Christmas tree, and the driveway was full of parked trucks and cars. What was going on? His mom always had Christmas on Christmas day, so they couldn’t be celebrating the holiday. Not wanting to deal with a crowd, he drove to the barns, parked and got out.

  He breathed in the heady scent of the ponderosa pines and saw the snow-covered Bull Mountains in the distance. He was home. No more war. No more killing. No more dying.

  It had stopped snowing and the air was fresh and invigorating. Glancing toward the house, he decided to wait a while before making his appearance. An agitated neighing caught his attention and he walked toward the corral attached to the barn. A beautiful black stallion circled the pen. At the sight of Tuf, the horse reared his head and pawed the ground with one hoof.

  Tuf leaned on the fence and watched the black horse with the flowing mane. He was magnificent and Tuf wondered what he was doing on Thunder Ranch. The more he watched, the more agitated the horse became, snorting, his nostrils flaring as he pawed the ground. Finally the horse trotted over to a dun mare drinking from a water trough. The mare’s rounded belly indicated she was pregnant. The two neighed back and forth and the black horse seemed to calm down.

  “Tuf?”

  He looked over his shoulder to see Royce, one of the ranch hands, staring at him. “Hey, Royce.”

  “Man, it is you.” Royce vigorously shook his hand. “Your mom’s gonna be beside herself. I’ll give her a call.” Royce reached for his cell.

  “No.” Tuf stopped him. “I’ll surprise her in a minute.” He glanced toward the house. “What’s going on?”

  The other man frowned. “You don’t know?”

  “What?”

  “Beau got married today and your mom threw him and Sierra a big reception.”

  “What?” He’d seen Beau at a rodeo in November, and he hadn’t said anything about getting married, but then, Tuf hadn’t given him time to talk. Beau had been full of questions and Tuf couldn’t answer them. He wanted to go home but couldn’t, and Beau wouldn’t understand that. Making a quick exit was all he could do.

  “Go on up to the house and join the celebration,” Royce urged.

  Feeling chilled, Tuf pulled the collar up on his coat, his eyes centering on the black horse, who was watching him as Tuf had watched the horse earlier. “What’s the story on the horse?”

  Royce leaned on the fence. “That’s Midnight. Ain’t he a beauty? Your mom and Ace bought him at an auction when his owner died. The foreman mistreated him so he’s a little gun-shy, if you know what I mean. His lineage goes back to the great bucking horse Five Minutes to Midnight and they paid a pretty penny for him.”

  “Yeah. He’s prime horseflesh.”

  “Ace outbid ol’ Earl McKinley, and Earl wasn’t too happy.” Royce shook his head. “Midnight has caused a whole passel of problems. Went missing for a while and upset the whole family. Turned out thieves who were stealing tack left the gate open and Midnight sprinted for freedom. The horse turned up at Buddy Wright’s place. That gave everyone pause, but Buddy just patched up the horse’s wounds and kept him safe. Ol’ Buddy has changed a lot.”

  Tuf digested that for a minute. It would be nice if the Hart and Wright families could exist in peace. Life was too short for petty grievances.

  Royce watched the horse. “Very temperamental and hard to handle, but Ace and Colt are working wonders with him.”

  “Is he for breeding or bucking?”

  “Depends on who you ask. Ace wants to keep breeding him, but Colt’s entered him in a few rodeos. Midnight twisted his left knee in November, and the family is at odds on what to do with him now. Ace doesn’t want to risk getting him injured again. The family has a lot riding on that black horse.” Royce peered at him. “You do know the Harts are in the rodeo contracting business?”

  “Mom mentioned that.”

  “Things have changed since you’ve been gone.”

  “Mmm.” He’d spent six years fighting in a war-torn country, sometimes sleeping on the ground and living off military-issue food not fit for a dog, but it kept him alive. It was always a celebration to get back to base for real food. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to live in the real world and to enjoy the freedom he’d been fighting for. His adjustment was yet to come.

  Midnight reared up on his hind legs, pawing at the air, clearly upset at the stranger eyeing him.

  “Calm down,” Royce said to the horse, and Midnight trotted back to the dun mare.

  “Do you leave him out here all night?”

  Royce slapped him on the back. “Man, you have been gone a long time if you’ve forgotten what Ace is like.” Royce pointed to the right of the barn. “See that opening? It goes into Midnight’s personal oversize stall. Once the mare goes inside, he’ll follow. She has a calming effect on him.”

  “I noticed.”

  “Midnight hates being penned up. He likes open spaces. When he injured his knee, we closed the doors and Midnight went crazy. Ace had to sedate him to keep him calm so he wouldn’t injure the leg further. That horse is either gonna make or break Thunder Ranch.” He held out his hand to Tuf. “Glad to have you home. Go join the celebration and make your mama happy. I’m feeding the pregnant mares, but I’ll be up for some grub as soon as I finish.”

  Tuf nodded and breathed in the crisp air off Bull Mountains. Time to face the family, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Midnight, who continued to circle the pen.
r />   “I’ve dreamed of riding a horse like you all my life,” he muttered under his breath.

  Midnight flung his head and stomped his hoof again in protest as if he understood every word.

  “Tomas. Tomas. Tomas!”

  Only one person called him that. His mother. Damn! Royce had called. He turned around as his mother flew across the yard in a dress and heels. At the sight of her silver hair and smiling face, his heart thumped against his ribs. Oh, how he’d missed his mom.

  How did he explain the past two years?

  Chapter Two

  “Tomas!” His mom grabbed him in a bear hug. He held on with arms that felt weak, but he was buffeted by a strength he couldn’t describe. Being over six feet, he leaned down so she could kiss his cheek. He’d started doing that when he was about fourteen.

  Sarah stroked his face and then ran her hands over his shoulders, arms and chest, much like when he was younger and a horse would buck him into the dirt. “Are you hurt? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Mom.” The family stood behind her all dressed in their Sunday best. Some of the faces he didn’t recognize. The guys were in pressed jeans, pristine Western white shirts with bolo ties. The women were in dresses or suits. Before he could see anything else, his brothers, Aidan and Colton, nicknamed Ace and Colt, barreled into him with fierce hugs, and then twin cousins Beau and Duke and Uncle Josh. He’d missed this connection to family.

  Someone grabbed his arm and jerked him around. His sister Dinah’s fiery hazel eyes flashed up at him. “Where have you been? You’ve had us all worried sick.”

  “Hey, sis.” He reached for her and lifted her off her feet into a tight embrace.

  “Be careful. She’s pregnant,” Sarah warned.

  “Oh.” Tuf eased her to the ground.

  Dinah laughed. “Get that look off your face. I’m respectably married.” She pulled a guy forward. “This is my husband, Austin. You remember him?”

  Austin Wright. His sister had married Austin Wright, Cheyenne’s brother. How did that happen?

  Before he could find an answer, his mother linked her arm through his. “Let’s go to the house. It’s cold out here. We have a lot to celebrate. My baby is home.”

  Baby. Usually when she called him that, it would cause sparks of resentment to flash inside him. Thank God he had finally outgrown that reaction.

  Dinah also linked her arm through his, and they made their way into the house through the spacious, homey kitchen to the great room. He barely had time to remove his hat. People milled around him. To the right was a long buffet table laden with prime rib and all the fixings. In a corner stood a ten-foot spruce fully decorated. The piney scent mixed with vanilla and cinnamon filled the room with a relaxing feeling of warmth enhanced by the fire in the river-rock fireplace. A large maple mantel showcased rodeo trophies from every member of the Hart family.

  He was home.

  But he felt as if he’d been dropped into enemy territory and he was waiting for the first round of fire. This time, he knew, he would be hit. There was no way of escaping the inevitable.

  Ace approached him, carrying a baby in a pink blanket. “I want you to meet Emma, the first Hart grandchild.”

  “You have a daughter?”

  “Yep. Isn’t she beautiful?”

  Tuf looked at the perfect baby face with swirls of blond hair. “Yes, she is. Does she have a mother?”

  Ace frowned at him in that familiar way Tuf remembered well, especially when Tuf had done something to displease him, like wearing Ace’s best boots to a rodeo. “Of course—Flynn.”

  “McKinley?”

  Ace’s frown deepened to a point of aggravation until Flynn walked up. “Don’t look so surprised, Tuf,” the beautiful blonde said.

  “How did you manage to lasso him?”

  She leaned over and whispered, “It wasn’t easy, but I finally found the magic rope.” She winked and gently took her daughter from Ace. “She’s only three weeks old and all this celebrating is too much for her. I’ll put her in the bassinet in Sarah’s room.”

  “Congratulations,” Tuf said to his brother.

  “Thanks. Glad you’re home,” Ace replied, but Tuf felt he wanted to say a whole lot more. They both knew this wasn’t the time. Ace was the oldest, the responsible one and the head of the family, next to their mom. And Ace would hold Tuf accountable for two years of silence, two years of ignoring the family and two years of shirking his responsibility to said family. Accountability was coming but it would not be tonight.

  His other brother, Colt, edged his way toward them. “Now, Ace kind of fibbed about the firstborn Hart grandchild.” Colt pulled a boy of about eleven or twelve toward him. “This is Evan, my son.”

  Tuf stared at the boy and then back to his sandy-haired, handsome brother. Love-’em-and-leave-’em Colt—that’s how he was known around the rodeo circuit. Romancing the ladies came easily to him, while Tuf found it almost painful sometimes. Maybe because his brothers cast long shadows and it was hard to walk in their wake. Seemed as if all his life he’d been trying to prove he was tough enough to match his older brothers and cousins.

  “Nice to meet you,” the boy said and held out his hand.

  Tuf took it. “Nice to meet you, too, Evan.” The last time Tuf was home, there had been no mention of Evan, and now wasn’t the time to point that out.

  Reaching behind him, Colt pulled a brown-haired woman forward. Leah Stockton. “You know Leah. We’re married and these are her kids, five-year-old Jill and three-year-old Davey.”

  Tuf touched his forehead. “Am I in another time zone or something? Colt is married with a ready-made family?”

  Colt punched Tuf’s shoulder. “You bet.”

  Leah hugged him. “Welcome home, Tuf.”

  After that he was lost in a sea of unfamiliar faces. His cousin Duke strolled over with his new wife, Angie, and her eight-year-old son, Luke. He also met the new bride, Sierra, and his uncle Josh’s wife, Jordan, who walked with a white cane and had a yellow Lab Seeing Eye dog named Molly. He didn’t get the whole story, but he could see Uncle Josh was very much in love.

  Seemed Sierra owned the Number 1 Diner in town and Jordan was her aunt. He was beginning to think there was something in the water. In the past year, his whole family had gotten married.

  His mom shoved a plate of food into his hands. “Eat. We’ll talk later.”

  He picked at the food, his eyes going to Dinah and Austin. That marriage still puzzled him. Buddy Wright was an alcoholic. Austin had said many times he would never be like his father, but Tuf had seen him at rodeos where he could barely stand. Tuf liked Austin, even though he had a problem holding his liquor. He didn’t understand how he and Dinah had gotten together.

  Finding a vacant chair, he sat down and continued to nibble at his food. Dinah slipped into the chair beside him.

  “You know, you have a lot of explaining to do.”

  “Yeah.” He speared a piece of prime rib. No one had enough guts to bring up the past two years tonight but his sister. She always danced to the sound of an offbeat drummer.

  “But I’ll give you time to settle in before I grill you.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  “You do know I’m the sheriff now, right?”

  He glanced at her. “Mom mentioned it. If I see you in town with a gun on your hip, you’ll have to forgive me if I laugh.”

  She frowned. “You better not.”

  “So you and Austin, huh?”

  “Yeah. I love him and he’s changed. He really has.”

  He stirred the meat into mashed potatoes. “A lot of that going around.” Home was different now and he wondered how he’d fit in. They’d all moved on without him. He felt a little lonely in a room full of loving family.

  “Mmm.” Dinah kissed his cheek. “Welcome home, lil’ brother.”

  Soon after, he said his good-nights and made his way to the stairs. His mom followed.

  “Your room is ready. I wash
ed the sheets every week just in case you’d come home.”

  Guilt the size of a boulder landed on his chest and he took a deep breath. The worry he must have caused her was too painful to think about.

  His room was the same as he’d left it. Horseshoe patterns decorated the curtains and comforter. Horseshoes were branded into the headboard and the dresser—something he’d done when he was about twelve, much to his parents’ disapproval. He had a thing about horses. All the Hart kids did, but he was the only one who’d branded his furniture.

  Chaps lay across a chair and he picked them up. “I don’t think these will fit anymore.”

  “No, you’ve filled out.”

  On a bulletin board attached to the wall were newspaper clippings of some of his rodeo adventures in bareback riding. Belt buckles lay in a tray. His youth was in this room. He turned to see his mom staring at him.

  “Go back to the party, Mom. I’m tired from the long drive and I’m just going to bed.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “I would ask a long drive from where, but I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

  “Mom…” That boulder got heavier on his chest.

  She wrapped her arms around him and hugged. “I’m so happy you’re home, my son.”

  He swallowed. “I’m home to stay.”

  “Good.” She touched his face. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  As the door closed, he laid the chaps on the bed and walked over to the window. His room faced Thunder Road. Pushing the curtains aside, he glanced toward Buddy Wright’s place and thought of Cheyenne. What was she doing back in Roundup? Was it for a visit? Or was she here to stay? He couldn’t seem to get her out of his head, especially that tortured look in her eyes.

  Almost ten years and he was right back where he’d started—dreaming of Cheyenne.

  * * *

  IN THE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED, everyone gave him his space, even Dinah, and he was grateful for that. He was used to getting up early and was usually out of the house by 5:00 a.m. Since it was still dark, he’d jog around the barns and inspect all the new additions. An updated mare motel had been built to house pregnant mares. Webcams monitored the activity of the mares. Ace had his vet practice set up in another barn with private stalls for his four-legged patients. The office for the ranch was next to that.