The Rancher's Second Chance

She looked around the tiny living room with the Victorian furniture and heavy wood cabinets built into the walls. “Is Lefty your given name?”

At that the dapper man with thinning gray hair and a twinkle in his gray eyes smiled. “My given name is Matthias, but I’m left-handed. My father always wondered if I would be able to carve, being left-handed.” Lefty had moved to a small stove in the kitchen alcove of the apartment. He poured tea from a kettle and held out a cup. “Peppermint tea. Please, have a seat.”

She carried her cup to the sofa and sat. Mr. Mueller poured himself a cup of tea and sat across from her in a wing chair that seemed too large for his slight frame.

Humor teased away her nervousness as she considered her situation. She felt somewhat like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Her entire world had changed—the people in it, her surroundings... Nothing felt familiar or safe anymore. Yet here she sat drinking peppermint tea with a wood-carver named Lefty, who spoke with a slight accent that said he’d been exposed to another language for a large part of his life.

“Would you like to see my shop?” he asked after they’d finished their tea.

“I’d love to.” Grace stood, feeling a little shaky as she followed him through the double doors and into his showroom.

As she stood in awe at the many hand-carved nativities and Christmas carousels, he lit candles in an extravagant, triple-tiered carousel in the center of the room. The windmill of the carousel heated and started to turn. The carousel with the nativity figurines began to spin.

“It’s lovely. I’ve seen them before but never like this.”

“Thank you, my dear. I enjoy making them. It makes me feel as if I celebrate our savior’s birth all year long. Some people light a carousel once a year and enjoy the nativity for one month. I enjoy them daily.”

It was obvious he loved his art, his job. The love he felt for it was in each piece he carved. Before she left Martin’s Crossing, she told him, she’d buy one to take home.

“You’re leaving?”

“I’m not sure,” she answered. She hadn’t really planned how long she would stay or where she’d go next.

“You have time to make plans. Don’t rush yourself.” He snuffed out the candles on the carousel and the figurines stopped spinning.

Before they left the store he picked up one of the carousels and held it out to her. “This one is for you. I’ll box it up tomorrow and bring it to you at Oregon’s.”

“I can buy it.”

“Nonsense. It’s my gift for you.”

She gave him a quick hug. “Thank you.”

A sudden pounding interrupted the peace and quiet inside the shop. Grace glanced around the room, her heart racing as she searched for a hiding place.

“You’re safe.” He pointed to the stool behind the counter. “Sit. I’ll check, but my guess is that it’s Brody Martin pounding my door down.”

He left her alone in the shop, her gaze shifting from the back door to the front door. She calculated how long it would take her to reach the back door and run to Duke’s No Bar and Grill.

The door between the shop and the apartment opened. She collapsed back on the stool, her legs suddenly weak. Brody pulled off his hat and ran a hand through his dark hair. His gaze took in the room and then settled back on her.

“I would have been here sooner but Lincoln stopped me on the steps of Duke’s, and I had to linger over an iced tea.”

“He’s gone?”

Brody nodded, but his attention fell on Lefty Mueller. “Thank you for taking her in.”

Lefty winked at her. “I’m glad you called me, Brody. We had a nice visit over a cup of tea.”

“I’ve had a cup or two of that tea myself, Lefty. I’m sure she enjoyed hanging out with you.” Brody settled his hat back on his head. “I’ll walk you back to Oregon’s.”

“I can walk myself, Brody.”

“I know you can, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you.”

The two of them stood there facing one another. Grace didn’t want this animosity between them. She’d come to him for help. It had been her choice. It had actually been her first thought, to go to Brody.

Lefty took the tea cup from her hand and she gave him a quick hug. “Thank you for taking me in and for the tea. I enjoyed seeing your shop and talking to you.”

“You’re very welcome, my dear. If you ever need anything, my door is open.” Mr. Mueller smiled at Brody. “And you, young man, take good care of her.”

“I’m not sure if she wants that, Lefty, but I’ll do my best.”

Brody took her by the arm and led her out the back door of the shop, over to the back door of Oregon’s All Things. She unlocked the door with the key Oregon had given her and stepped inside. Brody took off his hat and followed her across the threshold.

It suddenly dawned on her, what Lefty had said. She grinned as she looked at the big cowboy, hat in hand. “You drink peppermint tea with Lefty?”

He shot her a look that was none too pleased but cute, nonetheless. “Men can drink peppermint tea.”

“Of course they can.” She sat down on the overstuffed couch and pulled a pillow to her lap. “Have you eaten? I can make you a sandwich.”

“I thought I’d head over to Duke’s. What about you?”

“I had a sandwich earlier.”

He frowned at that. “That isn’t much of a meal. Why don’t you go to Duke’s with me.”

She sat there, the pillow on her lap, and Brody standing tall and awkward in the center of the small apartment. Finally she nodded, pushing aside fear and misgivings to accept the peace offering he’d extended.

“I think that would be good.”

She followed him out the door. They walked side by side down the sidewalk and across the street to Duke’s. They didn’t touch, not even by accident. They didn’t speak, not even to comment on the weather.

Peace was a fragile thing, she realized.

When they got to the diner, Brody went up the steps slowly, flinching each time he raised his leg to the next step. She wanted to help. But how did she do that without tackling his cowboy pride?

“Have you considered using the ramp?” she suggested, knowing immediately it had been the wrong thing to say.

Brody shot her a look. “I’m perfectly capable of using steps.”

“I know you are, but if it causes more wear and tear...”

He kept going, ignoring her.

When he got to the door he held it open for her. “After you.”

She stepped into Duke’s. The restaurant was long and low ceilinged with barn wood-paneled walls and a tin ceiling. The tables were rough wood. The booths along two walls were wood with rustic fabric-covered seats.