“How often have I lain beneath rain on a strange roof, thinking of home.”
William Faulkner
The cool, late summer Wyoming wind welcomed Jase like an old friend as he sat atop Beau, the spirited appaloosa his father had given him just that morning. A gift, he'd said, to welcome him home after being gone for so long. As well as a guide in helping him to find his way back from hell.
He looked out from atop the high hill, his dark eyes scanning the vast landscape that was Ghost Horse Ranch, and took a deep breath of air so clear that he felt the lingering fogginess from a year of surgeries and recuperation simply drift away. Below him, a wide, flowing stream ran through a landscape strewn with wild grasses and sage. In the near distance rose the Absarokas, calling to him as they always had and he nodded in their direction. Soon, he promised silently. Soon.
Home. It spread out before, below, and around him. As much as he had loved the adventures and challenges of his life as an operator, as much as he loved being a team member in something so much larger than himself, he'd always carried this part of Wyoming with him everywhere he went. No matter how tough and hard his career demanded him to be, the kid that “wore his heart on his shirt sleeve but under his work jacket,” as his nana had often described him, remained at the core of who he was even as life built its layers around him.
It was good to be home.
A slight sound and Beau's alert response announced someone's approach from behind. With an easy shift of the reins, he turned the big horse, and smiled.
Miranda Kincaid sat atop her own horse a couple of dozen yards away, her head cocked slightly to one side with a small smile curving her lips.
“Well, hello, cowboy,” she greeted him, her voice still as light and musical to his ears as a spring breeze, “I heard you were back in town.”
“Miranda Kincaid, I do declare,” he responded, his slow speech only slightly slurred thanks to months of speech therapy, “You're probably the only resident in these parts still capable of sneaking up on me like this.”
“Probably.” She urged her horse toward him. “But then, you taught me well how to stalk sage grouse in open country.”
He waited until she had drawn even with him. It had been almost six years since he'd been back and he hadn't seen her since nearly seven before that. He knew those thirteen years had left harsh marks on him. He was happy to see they had been much kinder to her, for the gentle ingenue had matured into a lovely woman. Light brown hair streaked with sunlight and just a touch of gray fell in a ponytail from the back of her worn gimme cap. Her bright blue eyes were lightly lined, probably as much from laughter as care if life hadn't changed her that much. Gone were the extra pounds she had carried from childhood and in their place were the curves they had once disguised, now dressed much as he was in worn jeans, cotton shirt, and denim jacket. From his memories, he saw her again as she'd been as they'd grown up. Remembered their shared laughter and their shared dreams, as well as their shared battles both with and alongside each other. They had been the best of friends made honorary cousins by his family. And he had loved her for as long as he could remember.
“It's good to see you,” he told her and was rewarded with another small smile.
“And to see you.”
She looked away for a moment then back at him, her eyes strangely vulnerable.
“I wasn't certain you'd want to see me.”
Jase started.
“Not want to see you? Why?”
Miranda grimaced and looked away again.
'I wasn't certain you'd forgiven me for...”
“For what?”
“For not...” Her eyes returned to his. “I let you leave without saying goodbye and...and then...”
He shook his head slightly.
“Miranda, there was absolutely nothing to forgive. I knew you were worried about my wanting to be in special ops.”
“Yes, I was. But that's no excuse for the way I behaved.” She paused. “I just couldn't stand the thought that something might happen to you and we'd never know.”
And it almost had. The words hung unsaid between them as their eyes met and held until her horse shifted and broke the moment. Jase looked away then spoke, his voice quiet and a little rough.
“I tried calling you, a few times in fact, but was told you weren't in. And I wrote but you never wrote back. After a while I thought you might have washed your hands of me.”
Her mouth fell open in astonishment.
“You did? I never knew!” She closed her eyes and shook her head before looking back at him. “But why...?”
“You know why, Miranda.”
They stared at one another until she sadly nodded.
“Yes, I know why. Dad. He never thought you were good enough for me.”
“No, he didn't. No one was, in fact, but especially the mixed breed son of his boss.”
“I know. It didn't matter who it was, he always found something wrong with anyone who showed interest.” She met his gaze. “But, Jase, you...you and me...”
He smiled gently.
“He never accepted our being friends, let alone anything else we might have become.”
“No, he wouldn't have.”
“Still, I was sorry to hear when you lost him. Whatever his motives, I believe he really only wanted the best for you.”
Privately Miranda had believed for years that what he'd wanted was a perpetual caregiver but she shrugged and said, “Maybe.”
They sat in silence as the wind blew around them and Jase imagined it to be a healing wind, blowing away years of misunderstanding and regret. Finally he smiled and moved Beau up alongside her.
“One thing I've learned is that the saying about the present being a present is true . What say we close the door on the past and start again today?”
Miranda's troubled expression relaxed into an answering smile.
“I say we do.” She held out her hand. “Welcome home, Senior Chief Jason Hunter.”
He took her hand and gave it a firm squeeze.
“It's good to be home, Miss Kincaid. Shall we ride for a while?”
She returned the squeeze then released his hand to gather up her reins.
“Ride on, cowboy.”
They spent the afternoon riding over the vast Ghost Horse Ranch. Jase was relieved to find that though much had changed in his world, the land here remained the same. Miranda didn't ask about his injuries except to ask how he was doing since he'd got out of the hospital in Bethesda, to which he'd said he was doing well with few lasting effects. He could walk again, for which he was grateful, and he was still able to function cognitively, for which he was even more grateful. As they rode back to homestead, he confided how difficult it was being now that he'd been medically discharged.
“Being an operator was all I ever wanted to do,” he said as he directed Beau around a large rock that was almost engulfed in sage, “I never even thought of being anything else. Now, I'm not so sure what I'm going to do next.”
She smiled doubtfully.
“And I'm pretty sure there aren't many career opportunities in the civilian world for an ex-SEAL that can blow things up and secretly incite general mayhem on a global level.”
He grinned slightly in response as he corrected her.
“First off, once you're a team member, you're always a team member whether you're active or not. And second, no, there's not exactly a huge calling for the skills I have.” He paused. “Or, at least, had.”
As they drew closer to the sprawling one-story ranch house she directed her horse near enough so she could lay her hand gently on his forearm.
“Being home is exactly where you need to be,” she told him quietly, “Here you can rest and get your bearings while you continue to heal.”
He glanced at her with one brow raised.
“I thought you're a veterinarian, not a people doctor.”
“I am. But I'm also an emergency medical technician. Besides, the benefits of being back are just common sense. Mary-Elise is probably in her element fussing over you, isn't she?”
Jase groaned then chuckled.
“I don't believe Mom understands I'm not eight-years-old with a boo boo any more. I keep waiting for her to offer to kiss it and make it better.”
Miranda laughed as they rode past the house toward the corral. Once there they dismounted and led the horses into the stable where they quickly unsaddled them, brushed them down, and left them in their stalls. As they walked, his limp was more pronounced after the long ride but most of the pain he'd endured after the mission had receded to an ache that was bearable now without the painkillers he'd hated so much but which made the agony at least bearable. Horses paused while munching their evening rations of grain to watch them pass before returning to eating, something much more interesting to their equine minds. Miranda stopped briefly so she could check one of the mares that would be foaling soon before they left the stable and crossed the yard to the back porch. Upon opening the storm door, Jase sighed and momentarily closed his eyes. Nobody anywhere could make meat loaf like his mother.
“Take those boots off and go wash up,” Mary-Elise called from the kitchen, her voice stopping them in the washroom, “You too, Miranda. You'll eat a proper meal here before you head back to your place.”
They grinned at one another then used the boot jacks to remove their boots and took turns at the wash sink before padding down the hall, following the scents of dinner with their bellies growling impatiently.
~
As the weeks passed, Jase once again became an active participant in ranch activities and managing interests. His father, Cole, introduced him to the upgraded financial and breeding management software while bringing him up to speed on their current breeding stock and practices. Over the years, Jase had been kept in the loop insofar as what was going on at home, but it took actually being there to grasp the full picture. His injuries, particularly to his legs and right hip, were somewhat limiting in what he was able to do now but he was far from useless. One more thing he added to his mental gratitude list.
He saw Miranda nearly every day as she made her rounds of the vast county ranches. Most of the time they managed only a quick few minutes before one or both of them had to be somewhere else. But whenever possible they would pack saddlebags with the makings of a picnic lunch and set off on a long ride, with a stop somewhere along the stream to eat, before returning late in the day. As much as he loved working with his father and the other hands with the stock, it was his time with Miranda that Jase treasured the most. It had always been that way with them. Leaving her behind had been the hardest thing he had to bear when he'd left to follow his dreams into the Navy and special operations.
This afternoon they were on a ride through a far section of the ranch. He watched her as she was watching a herd of elk across a remote, pine-ringed valley, and his native blood whispered that he was right where he belonged. Here, on this land where his ancestors once roamed, and with her.
“Do you miss it?”
He knew what she was asking and surprised himself when he had to consider his answer.
“Yes,” he finally admitted, “I miss the team and the camaraderie more than anything. I zoom with them often when they're home. Wonder what's going on when they're not. It's strange being out of the action,” He smiled slightly, “and I admit that it's tough not riding that adrenaline high. But...”
“But?”
Their eyes met and held.
“I don't regret everything I left behind.”
Her breath caught.
“And why is that?”
“You know why.”
He turned Beau so that they were facing one another, their jeans-clad legs touching, and gently cupped her face with his work-calloused hand.
“I missed you, Randi. But no matter where I went you were always there beside me.”
Reaching up, she laid her hand over his.
“I worried about you. I don't know exactly what you did and I don't want to know. But I do know it was dangerous, that you could have...” she took a breath and closed her eyes briefly, “I was so afraid that I'd never see you again.”
“Yet, here I am.”
She nodded as her eyes glistened with unshed tears. His thumb brushed her cheek as if to wipe them away before he leaned toward her and watched her eyes flutter closed. But just before their lips met, a gunshot nearby shattered the moment, startling both of the horses and driving them apart. The land was posted against hunting but there were other reasons someone would be shooting on ranch property. A second gunshot was heard and Jase was able to pinpoint the direction it was coming from. Reaching for the radio he carried at his hip he let his father know what was going on before he and Miranda took off in the direction of the gunshots.
As they reached the trees, they could hear a loud voice entreating someone to hold on in between cries for help. Another shot was heard and they urged their horses to quickly follow a game path until it opened up against a small stone outcropping. Below it were two men, one prone and still on the ground, his torn, bloody appearance a horrific testimony to the seriousness of the situation. Kneeling beside him was another man trying frantically to help his partner, his own clothes getting soaked with blood. On the ground around them was a large revolver and the torn remnants of a day pack.
The second man looked up in alarm and started to reach for the pistol before he realized it was riders on horseback.
“Oh, thank God!” he cried, “Please, you gotta help Brian!”
He moved aside when Miranda and Jase dismounted and rushed forward.
“What happened?” Jase demanded, kneeling beside Miranda and watching as she began to examine the victim.
“Mountain lion,” the man answered, his voice high pitched and just shy of panicking, “we came around the trail over there and suddenly it was all over Brian. We didn't see it. Don't know where it came from.”
Jase was once again on his feet, the pistol in his hand as he checked the chambers and found it still loaded.
“Did you shoot it?” he asked as his eyes searched the area, especially the outcropping of rock above them, and the man shook his head.
“No, I don't think so. I was shaking so badly and I was afraid I'd shoot Brian so I shot into the air. The first time surprised it and the second time it ran off. I shot the third time hoping someone would hear and come help.”
“Which way?”
“Which way?” the man repeated blankly.
“Which way did the cat go?”
The man pointed.
“That way.” He gulped for air. “I think. I'm not sure. As soon as it dropped Brian I started trying to stop the bleeding.” He turned frantic eyes on Miranda. “Is he going to be okay?”
Miranda's face was grim. The victim had serious head and neck wounds that were bleeding profusely.
“I don't know. Jase, you better call for rescue!”
“ Already on it.”
Help arrived thirty minutes later when a search and rescue helicopter set down just beyond the treeline and a team of paramedics and rescuers appeared with a litter. The second man, whose name was Lloyd, was quickly examined and found unharmed, the blood covering him having come solely from the victim. He was then ordered to step aside, which he reluctantly did, his eyes never leaving his hiking partner.
Less than five minutes later, Brian was in the litter and the team, along with Lloyd, disappeared back into the trees. Not long after, Jase and Miranda heard the helicopter lift off toward the nearest trauma center in Cody.
They stood for long moments after the sound of the helicopter faded in the distance.
“Think he'll make it?” Jase asked, and Miranda shook her head doubtfully.
“I don't know. His wounds are extensive and he's lost a lot of blood. I hope so.”
Jase looked up at the rocky outcropping then back at her.
“C'mon. Let's get out of here in case it comes back. We need to let the authorities know they have a very dangerous cat roaming around out here.”
They collected their horses and were soon riding back, arriving at the house just as the sun was nearing the western horizon. A nearby ranch hand took their horses, allowing Jase and Miranda to continue on into the house where they washed up and joined his parents, Cole and Mary-Elise, in the kitchen where they were waiting with a hot pot of coffee and thick roast beef sandwiches.
“How is he?” Mary-Elise asked as she poured coffee into heavy mugs.
“I don't know,” Miranda admitted and took a sip, “To be frank, I don't know how much of a chance he had when they lifted off. Hopefully they got him to the ER in time.”
“We'll have to hunt that cat down,” Cole commented as he took a sandwich from the platter his wife set on the table, “before it attacks anyone else. I've already alerted the sheriff's office and Hamm over at Fish and Wildlife. I'll take a few of the hands out tomorrow and help them hunt.”
“I'll go along,” Jase said then took a bite of his own sandwich.
“You two just be careful,” Mary-Elise told them, “I don't need to hear that my two men wound up in Nature's litter box somewhere.”
They left shortly after dawn taking provisions for the day and fully loaded rifles, with two ranch hands, Butch and Charlie, and one of the ranch dogs accompanying them. Little was said until the sun had risen over the valley and sparkled through the frost left from a hard breeze. The men were bundled warmly in thick shearling coats over flannel shirts and jeans with their hands protected by leather work gloves, also lined with warm flannel. Well broken in cowboy hats rode low over their foreheads.
As they rode slowly through a herd of heifers munching down on hay left the day before, they saw steam rising from the cattle's backs. The animals watched them pass, keeping wary eyes on the dog, before resuming their breakfast, and the riders kneed their horses into a lope toward the far reaches of the ranch.
“So, have you given any more thought to what you want to do next?” Cole asked his son when they paused mid-morning for coffee poured from heavy steel thermoses. They had reached the valley Jase and Miranda had ridden in the day before and were about to enter the line of trees.
“Been thinking about going back to college,” he admitted to his father, “I earned my bachelors in business and finance while I was serving. I'd like to add some classes to narrow down my focus.”
“And what would that be?”
“I had thought it would be ranch management or animal husbandry.”
“Had thought?”
Jase nodded as he sipped, the steam from the coffee rising fragrantly on the still morning air.
“Had thought. After yesterday, though, I've begun considering emergency management.”
Cole nodded sagely.
“Sounds like a good plan. Hamm will be retiring in just a few years. They'll need someone with real leadership experience at the helm.”
Again Jase nodded and took another sip of coffee. There were a few moments of silence between them before Cole spoke again.
“You and Miranda seem to have reconnected well.”
His son smiled slightly
“Yes.”
“It going anywhere between you?”
“Hope so.”
Nothing else was said on the subject and the group soon headed off again, with Butch taking point as the unspoken scout, something his vast experience in tracking made him well suited to being. He picked up the cougar's trail where the attack had occurred and it was quickly, chillingly confirmed that the animal had indeed returned at some point, only to disappear again some hours before. After dismounting to more closely examine the tracks left behind he advised that the animal was wounded and limping heavily on one leg. As to whether it had been shot or wounded some other way remained to be seen. Then he remounted and they continued following the trail. It was troubling to find that it was following a game trail worn down by generations of animals which was often used by hikers like the two men it had attacked the day before.
It was mid-afternoon when they heard gunfire in the distance. Not long after their radios crackled with word that the cougar had been found and destroyed. They would learn the next day that it had been stalking a group of hunters in the adjacent national forest and that it appeared to have been old and starved, and unable to hunt its usual food as a result of an old injury that hadn't healed properly. Relieved the danger had been eliminated, the group from Ghost Horse Ranch returned home, arriving in the late twilight of the day.
Over the coming days Jase spent time considering his future career options. It wasn't that he disliked ranch work. In fact, he loved it. But there had always been a need inside of him to serve in some way, as well as a craving for adventure that being in special operations had satisfied. One evening after dinner, while Cole and Mary-Elise had gone to visit friends at a neighboring ranch, he confided in Miranda as he always had, sharing his thoughts and ideas about where he felt life was leading him. She was quick to agree, saying even though he was no longer able to do the sorts of thing he'd done before, the skills he'd honed in leadership and problem solving would be a true asset in emergency management. He'd already researched online universities with emergency management degrees and found two good prospects. The next day, he chose one and applied.
In the coming weeks when he wasn't helping his father run the ranch, Jase was equally hard at work on his studies with the single minded determination that had made him an excellent SEAL. Mary-Elise both encouraged him and fretted that he was working too hard and not eating enough.
“You're basically holding down two jobs, Jason,” she pointed out once as she placed a plate of freshly baked walnut chocolate chip cookies on the desk beside him, “and I'm afraid you're going to burn yourself out.”
He'd smiled as he sat back and helped himself to a cookie.
“Not as long as I have you around to nag me about it, Mom.”
She'd grimaced in mock disgust then gave his cheek a quick kiss before leaving the office and closing the door behind her.
Christmas Eve arrived with several inches of new snow but there was still work to be done on the Ghost Horse Ranch. Cole had given those hands whose families weren't locals the opportunity to take a few days off and go home, and most had accepted it, along with the holiday bonus every employee received in appreciation for their hard work and loyalty. Those that remained were looking forward to the holiday party the ranch was hosting that evening so, with the bitterly cold wind to hurry them along, the work was completed in time to ready themselves for the festivities.
Miranda arrived early enough to assist Mary-Elise and a couple of the ranch hands' wives in the final preparations and their laughter was interspersed with Christmas carols as they worked. Then, just before the rest of the guests began to arrive, she and Jase were lighting the candles scattered about the pine and holly decorated living room when he called her to look at something out the large bay window.
Crossing the room to stand beside him, she peered out into the night with the lights from the big fir tree adding color to the translucence of the frost and blown snow around the outside edges of the window. She could see nothing out of the ordinary.
“What am I looking for?”
“Santa.”
Her lips curved in her ready smile.
“Oh? Is he out there somewhere?”
“Of course he is,” Jase assured her, “That is, I assume you have been a good girl this year.”
She crinkled her nose endearingly.
“Define 'good'.”
“You mean you haven't?” he asked in mock horror.
“Well, I did say a dirty word from time to time. And I did wish Miss Purdy down at the DMV would lose her dentures in the middle of one of her tirades once.”
“You evil woman, you!”
She nodded sorrowfully.
“Yes, I'm afraid so. But how was I to know she actually would?”
They laughed softly and Jase moved to stand behind her. Sliding his arms around her waist, he drew her back against his chest, resting his chin atop her head and holding her hands in front of her. They stood like that for a few moments before he moved his chin down the side of her head until he could place a nibbling kiss beneath her ear.
“I have something for you,” he whispered, the warmth of his breath sending a delicious tingle through her.
“I would say you shouldn't have,” she replied, also whispering, “but I'm greedy. What is it?”
“The moon.”
“The what?”
“The moon. I lassoed it just for you tonight.”
She chuckled softly.
“Okay, George Bailey, how did you do that?”
“Easy. I used a magic lasso...”
“Wonder Woman's?”
“Nope. I have my own, you know. Had it all my life.”
“Well, I've never seen it.”
“Of course not. I was forbidden to show it to anyone or it would lose its magickness.”
“Magickness? Is that a word?”
“It is now.”
She chuckled again then stopped when he leaned away and used one hand to reach into the front pocket of his jeans. Seconds later, his hand reappeared holding a small jewelers box.
“Merry Christmas, Randi.”
Taking the box from him with trembling fingers she held it for a minute before opening it. Tears immediately formed in her eyes as they fell on the iridescent moonstone set in a delicate silver Celtic-designed ring.
“Oh, Jase,” she whispered, “It's beautiful.”
“Someone once told me a legend about a diamond falling in love with a beautiful south sea pearl. They married and spent their first night together under a big full moon. Soon after they had a child. The first moonstone.”
Turning her gently, he took the box from her and removed the ring.
“I thought, I can't give you the world, but I can give you the moon, if you'll have me.”
She gazed up at him with glistening eyes and smiled.
“Yes, I'll marry you.”
“I haven't asked you yet.”
“Close enough.” She sniffed tearfully and held out her left hand with a happy smile. “I want your ring, that ring, on this finger.”
He chuckled as he slid the ring on her slender finger.
“You are greedy, aren't you?”
Instead of answering, she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him down, and just before their lips met, she murmured, “For you, always.”
This story had all of the elements of what a romance story should be… A hero wounded but recovering well from one life coming back into one that suited him probably even better. A childhood friendship that was never allowed to grow completely until the hero returned and the heroine had been waiting all along avoiding others for him to come back.
And of course, the aging cougar that had to hunt humans or starve to death, was nice outside that but neither of them in danger.
You have a way of stringing out romances and getting the maximum benefit from them when generally romances move more quickly. I like the mixing of modern technology with traditional ranch life. Reminiscent of the Yellowstone TV show.
I loved him. At age twelve he touched my heart with his music. At age twenty he captured my heart when our eyes met as he sat on a stage and sang Four months later, he fractured my heart with his refusal to allow us to stay together. At age seventy
The cool, late summer Wyoming wind welcomed Jase like an old friend as he sat atop Beau, the spirited appaloosa his father had given him just that morning. A gift, he'd said, to welcome him home after being gone for so long. As well as a guide in helping him to find his way back from hell.
