Wearing the Rancher's Ring

Wiping her palms against the thighs of her jeans, Olivia made herself step into the room.

“Hello, Clancy. Beatrice told me you were here.” Her voice sounded ridiculously hoarse, but she resisted the urge to clear it. She didn’t want him to guess how her emotions were tumbling around, shaking her to the very core of her being.

With both hands cradling the brim of his hat, he said, “I hope I’m not interrupting your work. She said you’d be returning to the office any minute, so I waited.”

She tried her best to smile as though she was really glad to see him. And deep down a part of her was very glad. But the rest of her was afraid to be near him, terrified that the mere sound of his voice would tear away the protective walls she’d built around her emotions.

“That’s right. We just got in. I’ve not even had time to unthaw yet.” She walked away from him and over to a cabinet counter where a brewing machine was located. “Would you like something to drink? This thing will make coffee, tea or hot chocolate. Take your pick.”

“No, thank you. I can only stay a minute.”

Even though his presence was unsettling, she felt oddly disappointed that his visit was going to be brief.

Dropping a tea bag into a foam cup, she shoved it beneath the brewer. While she watched a stream of steaming water fill the cup, she said, “I’ll be honest, Clancy. I’m very surprised to see you here.”

“I’ll be honest, too. I thought long and hard before I decided to walk into this building,” he admitted.

She momentarily closed her eyes and swallowed before she turned to him. “Exactly why are you here, Clancy?”

While she forced her gaze to meet his, she was shocked to feel her heart contract, then speed into a wild thump. After all this time, she should be able to look at this man and feel no more than she would for any old friend, she thought.

But Clancy wasn’t your friend, Olivia. He was your lover, your fiancé. You curled in his arms and dreamed about spending the rest of your life with him.

His green eyes were making a slow survey of her face, gliding over the curves and angles like a fingertip. When they finally settled on her lips, her breath momentarily caught in her throat.

“I wanted to see you again,” he said frankly. “Do you think we could have supper one evening? Or if not supper, then meet for drinks?”

Of all the things she’d expected him to say, this was not even on her list. In fact, down through the years, she’d always imagined that if she ever did happen to run into Clancy again, he’d most likely greet her with disdain.

She hesitated, her mind whirling with questions and doubts. “Supper? I—don’t know what to say. Why would you want to have supper with me?”

“We were very close once,” he said slowly. “I thought it might be nice for us to catch up a bit.”

He suddenly smiled, the first one she’d seen since spotting him in the Grubstake and the expression was the ray of warmth that melted the last of her resistance. Why not go out with Clancy? she thought. It would prove to herself and to him that the past was in the past and the two of them could be friends.

She smiled back at him. “I think that would be nice, Clancy. Thank you for asking.”

His eyes suddenly sparkled and the sight warmed her. Even in college he’d been a very serious person and she doubted that had changed. But the times he did display a bit of pleasure, it was a moment of pure gold.

“Great,” he said. “So when do you think you might be free? Tomorrow night?”

That soon? Could she possibly get herself mentally braced in that length of time? No, she thought. When it came to this man, two, three, five days wouldn’t make any difference. Besides, this wasn’t a reunion. It was a new beginning as friends. Nothing more, she assured herself.

“That sounds fine.”

He levered his hat back onto his head. “I’ll pick you up about seven, then. Do you live here in town?”

Olivia shook her head. “No. I live east of town. I’ll draw it for you.”

Since her small notebook and pen were still in her shirt pocket, she pulled them out and quickly made a crude map of directions to her house. “It’s a green stucco with dark brown shutters. A couple of dogs will be hanging around in the yard, but they won’t bite.”

“I’ll be there.” He reached for her hand and pressed it tightly between his. “Goodbye, Olivia.”

She smiled and nodded, and yet somewhere inside her she felt tears forming. For one split second she felt the reckless urge to fling herself against him, to beg him to forgive her for being such a fool all those years ago. But thankfully she caught herself before that could happen and managed to reply in a normal voice, “Goodbye, Clancy. See you tomorrow night.”

Dropping her hand, he quickly left the room, and while she waited for the sound of his boot steps to fade away, she drew in several long breaths.

Had she just stepped into a wildfire or was she finally taking a step toward dousing the torch she’d carried all these years for Clancy? Hopefully after tomorrow night, she’d have her answer.

The next evening Clancy was in his office wrapping up the last phone call he planned to take for the day, when his father, Orin, walked through the door. The sixty-two-year-old man was tall and brawny with a pair of shoulders like a linebacker and a thick mane of iron-gray hair. For years after Clancy’s mother had died, his father had more or less been living in the shadows, choosing to remain in the house, dealing with paperwork and leaving the ranch only when a necessary business trip forced him to. But something about Rafe taking the plunge and marrying Lilly had done something to Orin. Over the past several months he’d steadily returned to the vibrant rancher he used to be. Now he was back to riding his horse and doing hands-on work with the ranch crew. Not only that, he was starting to date a young woman, who just happened to be a deputy district attorney for Carson County.

Returning the phone to its cradle, Clancy leaned back casually in his chair while Orin rested a hip on the edge of the desk and pushed up his cuff to take note of the time.

“It’s about your quitting time, isn’t it?” Orin asked.

Clancy nodded. “Sure is. That was my last call. I’m about to head to the house.” He didn’t add that as soon as he showered and changed he was driving into Carson City to see Olivia. Except for Rafe, the rest of his family was unaware that she was now living in the area. And Clancy was going to leave it that way, at least for now.

“Well, I just stopped by to see if Jett had finished writing up that contract for the bull sales. Kim said he’d already left for the day, but had finalized the contract. So that’s good. I want to use that money for more mama cows.”

Clancy gestured to the telephone. “According to the guy I was just talking to you could get thousands of dollars by just signing your name.”

Orin’s frown was skeptical. “Oh. Who was it? Some cattle broker?”

“No. It was that lease hound—the one working for the mining company. This is the second call I’ve gotten from him in the last month.”

Orin’s head wagged back and forth in disbelief. “Even when silver prices were up a few months ago, they were still at the bottom. The effort would do nothing more than tear up our land. Didn’t you make it clear that we weren’t interested?”

“Very clear. But then he started talking gold. I told him there’s never been an indication of gold on the ranch. And that we’re not interested in looking,” Clancy told him.

“Damn right. Here on the Horn our gold is the four-legged sort. That’s the only kind I want to deal with.” Orin slipped off the edge of the desk. “Okay. I’m off to town. Noreen is giving a dinner party in honor of a coworker that’s moving away. For some reason she wanted me to be there.”

Clancy gave his father a pointed smile. “The reason might be that she likes you.”

Orin grinned sheepishly and Clancy couldn’t help but notice that his father looked years younger than this time last year.

“Maybe. A little.” His grin suddenly faded to a look of faint uncertainty. “I’m sure most everyone is calling me a fool for being interested in a woman that’s so much younger than me.”

Noreen was forty-five and looked even younger. Yet Clancy could hardly fault the woman for that. Nor did he want his father to worry over it. “Look, Dad, that’s no one else’s business but your own. If it doesn’t bother you or her, then it’s sure okay with me.”

Orin shrugged. “You’re still young. But a guy like me—I guess I get to wondering what I have to offer her over a man closer to her age. I’ll never look like a—what does the younger generation call a stud now?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Clancy answered drily. “You need to ask Rafe or Finn that question.”

Orin chuckled. “Well, whatever it is, I’ll never look that way again.”

Rising to his feet, Clancy switched off the computer on his desk and picked up a stack of papers. “Don’t sell yourself short, Dad.”

The two men left the office and Clancy paused long enough to drop the work on his secretary’s desk. “I don’t need this until tomorrow afternoon,” he told the young woman with short, chestnut-colored hair. “Go ahead and close up the office.”