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Reunited With The Rancher

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2019
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Tom continued looking at the framed photographs. There was one from when the tornado hit Royal, of the damaged town hall with three floors destroyed and the clock tower left standing. “You’re very good at this,” he said, moving to another picture of a black horse in a pasture, the wind blowing its tail, sunlight spilling over its satiny black coat. Tom glanced at her.

“This looks like my horse Grand.”

“It is. He’s photogenic and cooperative.”

“Wow. I’d like a copy of that picture, too.” He leaned closer. “I don’t see a price on these.”

“You’re special. You can have that picture compliments of the house.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I want to,” she said, smiling at him.

“Thanks. It’s a great picture of him.”

“Come see where I take pictures and my desk.”

He walked around and bent down to look through a camera set on a tripod. Across from him was a backdrop of a field of green grass.

“Tom, let me take your picture.”

He grinned at her. “You’re kidding. You know what I look like.”

She took his arm. “Come stand and let me have a picture of you. I might want it on cold winter nights when you’re not with me.”

His smile faded. “You’re serious. All right, I will if you’ll let me take one of you on my phone.”

She laughed. “Sure I will.”

“And promise you won’t stick me out there in the window.”

“I wouldn’t think of it,” she said. “Your picture will go home to my bedroom,” she said, expecting a laugh or sexy reply, but he stood quietly looking at her and she wondered what he was thinking. “You stand right here,” she said, motioning to him.

Behind the camera, she adjusted the settings and took a picture. “Now turn slightly and look over your shoulder a little at me and smile.”

“Em, I feel silly.”

“Smile and cooperate. I’ll buy you a loaf of bread when we leave.”

“You’re really good at this bribery business.” He turned and smiled and she snapped some more.

“Now, want to see your pictures? I can get proofs for you while we go get that loaf of bread.”

“I don’t really care about seeing my picture, but I definitely care about that bread. You don’t have to buy it. I’ll go get it and you get your proofs or whatever you do. What kind do you want me to get?”

“I love the sourdough.”

“Sourdough, coming up. I’ll be back.” He left and she worked quickly on the proof. She was examining them when she heard the bell in front. She scooped up the proofs, turned off lights and hurried to meet him.

“I have two loaves of bread and they smell almost too good to wait to eat. Ready to go?”

“Yes, look. You take a very appealing picture.”

She held a couple of proofs out for him to see. He barely glanced at them but smiled at her. “I’m a very appealing subject,” he said and she smiled.

The sun was low in the west when they left her shop. As soon as they were in the car, she turned to him slightly. “When we leave here, get ready for a shock. The house is in terrible condition. At the last, Uncle Woody was so ill—”

“Emily, I’ve meant to tell you that I’m sorry I missed being at his funeral.”

“There wasn’t any reason for you to fly back from your business trip in Wyoming. I never asked you if you bought the ranch,” she said, realizing how far apart they had grown. In times past he would have been at her side for her uncle’s last hours and through the service. She would have known whether Tom bought another ranch in Wyoming and he would have discussed his decision with her before he did anything. They were moving farther apart and the divorce was inevitable, but right now, she didn’t want to give any satisfaction to Maverick and neither did Tom, so they’d stay together.

“No, I didn’t buy it. If I buy another ranch, it’ll be in this part of the country,” he said. “I’m beginning to rethink getting someone else to run it. I have to be hands-on with a ranch.”

She was quiet when they turned on the street where she had lived from the time she was nine years old until she had married Tom. Big sycamores and oaks lined the road. Tiny green leaves covered some branches, but many had bare limbs. The aging sidewalk was pushed up by tree roots. Tom slowed in front of the three-story house and turned onto a driveway where grass filled the cracks of aged concrete that had disappeared beneath a cover of weeds.

Tom parked beside the back corner of the aged house. “I want the car out here where it can be seen. If anyone has been watching you, whoever it is will know this isn’t your car. I want Maverick to know I’m here with you, that the email didn’t work and didn’t hurt either one of us.”

“It gives me the shivers to think someone might be watching me,” she said. “I never even thought of that.”

Tom gave her a look and smiled. “You’re trusting.”

He cut the engine while he gazed at the house, and she studied it with him. Long ago it had been painted white, but now the paint was peeling. There were gables on the front and west sides with a shingled roof that needed replacement. The large round tower on the east side had broken windows and all the ground floor windows were broken. The house had a wraparound porch with wooden gingerbread decoration that had shattered through the years and ornate spindles that were broken.


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