Wedding Bells at Wandering Creek

“If that’s so, Dean, old boy, your family will be the ones who get hurt,” he murmured.

Willow’s yellow hair fanned out as she leaned low over the horse’s neck. The stallion picked up speed as it and its rider did one more pass, then finally slowed and trotted up next to him.

“That was quite a show,” he said.

She patted the horse’s sweaty neck and tried to catch her breath. “Dakota loves to run. Even at eighteen he hasn’t slowed down.”

They walked together for a minute. Jack glanced around the seemingly endless acres of green meadow, skirted by the mountain range and he shifted in the saddle. Cisco made him look good, and responded readily to the slightest command. “This is quite a backyard you have here.”

Willow sighed. “I know. It’s perfect. And developers think so, too.”

“I expect the land is pretty valuable.”

“Well, seven hundred acres is probably too much for just Mom and me.”

The horses moved with a slow, easy rhythm. “But not with the kid’s camp.”

She shrugged. “It’s only open a few weeks out of the summer. I suppose we should be doing much more than just that, but…”

“What about running cattle?”

“We used to have a small herd at one time. Back when Dad filmed westerns here.” She pointed off toward the mountains. “In fact, the movie set still exists out there.”

“You’re kidding. You actually have your own western town with a jail and a saloon?”

“And a one-room school house and a church.” Her smile faded. “Then when my father got sick, he couldn’t work…. So he concentrated on the camp.”

“That has to be an expensive undertaking.”

“Yes, but Dad was good at getting financial sponsors.”

“Enough to keep it going now?”

She shot him a sideways glance. “I don’t like where this is leading.”

“It’s not leading anywhere. It’s just conversation.”

She didn’t seem to accept his explanation. “Are you accusing my brother of stealing—”

He raised a hand. “I’m not accusing him of anything. I was just curious as to how you keep the camp going?”

“For one thing, the ranch is ours free and clear. And Mother and I work hard to get funding to reopen the camp.”

“Sounds like a big undertaking.”

“But well worth it.” She seemed to relax and smile. Jack had trouble concentrating on business. Willow nodded toward Cisco.

“How are you feeling? Tired?”

Every one of Jack’s muscles ached but he wasn’t about to share that with her. “Not bad.”

“Good.” She looked ahead toward a group of trees. “I have something to show you if you can keep up.”

He caught a glimmer of humor in her eyes. “Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe,” she called as she kicked Dakota into a run.

When Jack spurred Cisco, the horse responded and took off after her.

With Willow in the lead, they made it to the edge of what looked exactly like the main street of an old western town.

“Welcome to Liberty.” Willow climbed down from Dakota and walked the animal to the hitching post, then went to the side of the building, turned on a spigot and water came out the end of the hose. She dragged it out to the street and began to fill a nearby trough.

Jack swung his leg over Cisco’s back, feeling every muscle in his body cry for mercy.

“You still okay?” Willow asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He looked around. He’d never been much of a movie buff, but even he remembered the famous television miniseries about an older sheriff hired to tame a lawless town. Of course, it had starred Matt Kingsley.

Willow brought the hose to her lips and took a long drink, then handed it to Jack. “Drink up. It’s spring water.”

“None of that fancy bottled water for you, huh?”

She smiled again. “Nothing tastes better than this.”

He drank deep. She was right. “Very good.”

They left the horses at the trough and headed down the main street. “I feel like I should be wearing a gun and spurs.” He tilted his hat back and looked at the two story weathered structures. “Are the buildings finished inside, too?”