Home to Wyoming

“Well, congratulations, Jenny!” he said. “The owner of the dude ranch, Carson Lundgren, has a son named Johnny who’s going to turn seven next Thursday. You’ll meet him at breakfast in the morning. He’ll want to show you his pony, Goldie.”

“I’ve never seen a real pony.”

“We’ve got four of them.”

“Can I have a ride on one?”

He smiled. “You can pick your favorite and start riding first thing in the morning. Do you know you have the prettiest green eyes?”

“So do you.” Her comment took him by surprise. She seemed so grown up for a seven-year-old. “My daddy’s were green, too.”

“That explains their color.” A lump lodged in his throat. This was Daniel Forrester’s little girl, who would have to live without him for the rest of her life. “Your daddy was a very brave man. We invited you to the ranch as our way of honoring him.”

Her features sobered, but she didn’t tear up. “Were you in the war?”

“Yes.”

“How come you’re not there now?”

“That’s a good question. It’s because I got sick while I was in Afghanistan and had to come home. So did my friends Carson and Ross who run the ranch. They have coughs, too.”

“I heard you coughing at the airport.”

“I saw you sleeping, and I’m sorry if I woke you up. I cough a lot, but just remember you can’t catch it from me.”

“Why not?” She was curious like Johnny, a trait he found endearing.

“Because it’s not a cough from a cold. It’s from breathing the bad air in the war.”

She looked up at her mother with an anxious expression. “Do you think Daddy got that cough, too?”

“I don’t think so, or he would have said something in his emails.”

Jenny looked a trifle pale. The mention of her father must have upset her. “Let’s get going to the ranch. It’s only a short drive away. I’m sure you’re tired and hungry.”

“I got sick on the plane.”

That explained her pallor. “I’m sorry about that. Our plane did get bounced around, but we’re on the ground now. Are you thirsty?”

“Not yet.”

Buck got to his feet and turned to the girl’s mother. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He guessed that she couldn’t wait to get to the ranch and put her daughter to bed. “Then let’s go. The van’s right outside.”

When they exited the terminal into the darkness, the wind was blowing so fiercely it was a good thing he wasn’t wearing his cowboy hat. He saw lightning flashes followed by thunder. It was going to rain before they reached the ranch. Willy opened the van door to help Jenny and her mother get in. A strong gust caused her skirt to ride up those fabulous legs just as Buck climbed in behind her. Once behind the wheel, Willy pulled away. Two minutes later, the downpour started.

“Where’s that big mountain?” Jenny wanted to know. She rested her head against her mother, who had a protective arm around her. He noticed she squeezed her daughter harder every time there was another clap of thunder.

“The Grand Teton is to the right of us, but with the storm, you won’t be able to see it until tomorrow.”

“I’m scared.”

Willy had turned on the windshield wipers, but it was still hard to see.

“You don’t need to be, Jenny. We’re perfectly safe in the van, and in a few minutes we’ll have you tucked in bed in our cabin. You’ll be as cozy as the red squirrel who lives in a hole in the fir tree near the main ranch house.”

“It’s really red?”

When Buck smiled, Jenny’s mother reciprocated. “Not exactly like your top. More of a burnt-orange-red color. Moppy likes pine nuts.”

“Moppy?” Jenny squealed in delight, her fear forgotten for the moment.

“That’s Carson’s name for her.”

“I want to see her.”

“Tomorrow she’ll be running up and down the tree, chattering her head off. You won’t be able to miss her. She has a huge bushy tail.”

“What if it’s still raining tomorrow and she doesn’t come out?”

“By morning, this storm will be long gone.”

“Promise?”

Buck had checked his smartphone for the weather report before he’d exited the plane. He caught her mother’s eye before he said, “I promise the sun will be out.”

She kissed her daughter’s forehead. “If Mr. Summerhayes made a promise, then you can believe it, sweetheart.”

“Please, call me Buck.”

“That sounds like a horse’s name.”

Jenny’s comment made him laugh and brought on a cough. When it subsided, he said, “A lot of people say that and you’re absolutely right, but I was named Bradford after my great grandfather. My dad nicknamed me Buck because his grandfather liked the Buck Rogers comic books and thought I looked like him.”

“Who was Buck Rogers?”

“A spaceman.”

The girl glanced at her mom. “Have you heard of Buck Rogers?”

“Yes. I loved science fiction growing up.”

Buck had been enjoying their conversation so much, he didn’t realize they’d driven up in front of the guest cabin until Willy turned off the engine.

He leaned toward the two of them. “The worst of the storm has passed. I’ll unlock the cabin door and then you make a run for it so you don’t get too wet. Willy will bring in your luggage. But before we go in, I have to put on an oxygen mask.”