Page 7 of The Texas Cowboy's Lady

“She wants you to see those old rocks, as you put it, and that stands as an order to my way of thinking. I don’t intend to lie to her. That’s not how we do things in Texas. Maybe in California, but not here.” He had swung up into the saddle and sat watching her from his perch. Was he taunting her? Had he guessed the lie she and Sean were engaged in? Why did that comment about lying rub her the wrong way? He was even more infuriating than she remembered. There was nothing left for it. She approached the side of the big bay animal.

“Which way you want it? Front or back? Lady’s choice.” That was pure Jaxson messing with her brain, trying to get a rise of temper, and that had led to some things in the past best left forgotten.

“Seeing the back of you is always preferable.” She placed the tip of her boot into the empty stirrup in front of her and a strong arm reached down and hoisted her none too gently onto the broad back of the animal. He didn’t bother to tell her to hold on. But she had to make a quick grab around his middle as he tapped the horse’s sides and sent them off into a faster gait than normal. If he had hoped to dislodge her and send her onto the ground on her backside, she was more than determined to disappoint him. So what if she had to hug his waist for dear life? And bury her face against his broad back that smelled of an earthy male mix of horse, earth, a hint of manly cologne all mixed together and waking up senses that were best dormant. They couldn’t reach their destination soon enough.

The pile of rocks referred to what was left of an old white sandstone and dirty red limestone building from the late 1880s that was comprised of one full end wall and less than a fourth of a side one, and then the rest had ended in a crumbled heap of old rocks, as she referred to them. Old wisteria branches snaked their way over, under, and around the stones, and in blooming season, it had been a spot of beauty for Laurel. She would often ride out and spend time in solitude with her daydreams and the peace of the world around her. It was a while before she realized Jaxson, too, knew her secret spot. But he’d never intruded until one wildly stormy spring afternoon. And that had changed some things. But Laurel preferred to leave that memory buried in the pile of stone.

Except it wasn’t a pile of stone she raised her head and looked upon when they finally stopped moving. She recognized the stand of willow trees standing tall, like sentinels guarding the grassy spot. In the center stood a small stone building—a church by virtue of the white wooden cross at the top of the roof eave. And six glass windows shone light inside the small interior from whole walls that stood straight. She was mesmerized at the change. And who else would have envisioned what the heap of old stones could have been transformed into? It was as if someone knew what her heart had always known and set out to bring it to life. As far as she could remember, she had only mentioned her fanciful musings to one person in those days so long ago.

Jaxson.

“I always knew this place was special. I’m so glad others saw it, too, and brought it back to life.”

This time, Jaxson gently lowered her until the ground touched her feet. There was a mat of soft green grass, which should amaze her for even growing in such a spot. But it seemed right that it do so now. Her eyes caught sight of the simple rock fountain—nothing grand, but it fit into the picture, with water softly cascading over the smooth-faced stones to disappear into a pool at the base and then reappear again as it tumbled down the side of the hill.

“This stream and the natural rock... it lends itself to the peace of everything.” Laurel’s tone was soft as she surveyed the scene.

She moved forward. The brown wooden door swung open beneath her touch, and she stepped inside. The ghosts of her past weren’t there to greet her, but peaceful memories were. Eight wooden pews, four on each side of the aisle, led to a simple altar with a single carved cross standing in its center. The light spilled through the tall windows along the side, and she could imagine the golden light that would filter through the glass tiles fitted into the cross shape in the back wall above the altar. Stained glass wisteria blooms were fitting. Laurel sank into one of the pews. She wasn’t alone; Jaxson took a space behind her.

“Not what you expected to find, was it?”

“Not in the least. It is amazing. From what most people wrote off over the years as just an ugly pile of rocks came all of this. It was a gem in hiding. How did this happen?”

Their tones were hushed out of simple respect.

“Well, you always said you found such peace in this spot. And so did one or two others. Your grandmother had it researched right before she died. And the results came in after you had left for California. Sammi Jo decided that if the hands were amenable, it would go back to being the source of peace and comfort to weary souls. It seems it was the only church known to exist on the trails between Abilene, Wichita Falls, and Lubbock for decades way back then. Seems one of the Burkitt ancestors married a girl who wanted a church wedding, but there being none, he began building one... a very crude one back in the 1800s, constructed by a cowboy who wasn’t a stonemason but wanted to gift his bride with a real church.

“We all agreed it shouldn’t be allowed to just rot away. So, on off times, the ones who were free would gather up here and figure out how to put her back together. I think we did a fairly good job. And we’ve had special things here—baptisms of some ranch kids, memorials, Fourth of July stuff. Mostly, it is open to anyone on the ranch just to stop by and get some refreshing in their souls. Or for a girl to dream her dreams inside. Suppose that might sound a bit hokey now to a city girl.”

Laurel stood. He did as well. She met his gaze. “This city girl still has a country heart. I think this place was always special, whether it was a pile of weed-covered rocks or a cross-topped well where people can find that refresher of soul and heart. It was always meant to be here for that purpose. And to know it was built with such love and intent from a groom to his bride... that is even more special. I am so glad my sister wanted me to see this. And if you don’t mind, I’ll meet you down at the pens in a few minutes. I would like to spend some time here alone. I can find my way down the hill with little effort.” She turned away and resumed her seat. In a moment or two, she heard his retreating booted feet on the wooden floor.

*

Three quarters ofan hour later, Laurel was seated on the back of a lively dappled gray quarter horse with a long gray mane and tail. He was a gelding that definitely still held some fire in the huge almond-shaped eyes and the set of his head and the constant movement of his ears.

“I take it that your mount meets with your approval?” Those were the first words Jaxson had spoken with her since he had waited patiently for her to join him at the pens. The gray was saddled and ready when she arrived.

“Yes, I believe he does. What’s his name?”

“Silver Dollar. He’s got some speed and some quick moves. He was trained as a cutter. So I would not put you on him around a group of horses or cattle or anything else in a herd. He does love the thrill of the action still.”

“I’ll remember that. Thanks for the heads-up. It feels good to be on the back of a good horse again.”

“You look like you still belong there.”

She pulled up the reins and looked at the man inches from the side of her mount. He stopped as well.

“I believe that was a compliment. Something I haven’t heard from you in ages. What’s brought about the change? Old age?”

Laurel tried to play the moment off with some humor. That happened a lot in the old days, when Jaxson could make her nervous simply by his quietness with her.

“Maybe so. We’re all growing older, present company included, but not all wiser.” He gave a small upturn of the corner of one side of his mouth and urged his horse back into a canter. He had the last laugh.

Same Jaxson...and she realized a stunning fact. She had missed that Jaxson, and all the others he could be too. But maybe she had come home too late. She had been replaced by someone named Arabella, and she had dealt the hand of cards they were holding now. Jaxson would play his out. Laurel had the sinking feeling she’d dealt herself the losing hand.

Chapter Four

“Sorry we’ve nothad time to sit down and really talk about what brought you here to begin with.” Sammi Jo grinned. “Of course, that’s besides the great need you had to see your younger sister again.”

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