Page 74 of Backlash

Nate scribbled his signature on the bill of sale for each horse. “So where’s McLean?” he asked, pushing the paperwork across the desk.

“In Helena,” Tessa replied. “He should be back soon.”

“How much longer is he planning to stay around here?”

“I—I don’t know,” Tessa answered quickly.

“Probably not too long. He couldn’t wait to move away from here before. The fire just gave him a head start.”

“I suppose,” Tessa said woodenly.

“Well, this should make it easier for him,” Nate said, thumping the paperwork with one thick finger. “Now that you’ve got the down payment on the ranch, he can take off for the bright lights of L.A.”

“Right.” Tessa wasn’t about to think of impending departure. Not today. Not when she was giving up Brigadier and the mares for the sole purpose of buying a ranch Denver had no use for.

By the time she and Nate returned to the paddock, Len had loaded the mares into the trailer and Brigadier was being led across the yard by one of the younger hands. Brigadier nickered when he noticed Tessa and tossed his magnificent head as he pranced up the incline to the trailer. He barely favored his right foreleg.

Tessa’s throat grew hot and thick and her eyes misted. Feeling like a traitor, she turned toward Sherrie just as Curtis hobbled across the yard.

“Howdy, there,” he called to Sherrie. He tipped his hat and his weathered face cracked into a broad smile.

Sherrie squinted up at him. “Who’re you?” she demanded.

Curtis chuckled. “Well, now, I could be askin’ you the same question, couldn’t I?”

“I’m Sherrie!” the little sprite said proudly, folding chubby arms across her chest.

Curtis glanced up at Nate. “You must be proud of this one.”

“I am,” Nate agreed, his gold tooth flashing as he scooped Sherrie from the ground.

“I want to ride Red Wing!” Sherrie cried.

“Later,” her father said.

“That’s what you always say,” Sherrie pouted, staring longingly at the mare.

“You’ll have plenty of time.” Nate turned to Tessa. “You come and visit the horses anytime you like.”

“And teach me to ride!” Sherrie commanded.

“I will,” Tessa promised.

“Thanks a lot,” Nate said, clasping Tessa’s hand, “and good luck.”

“You, too. Take good care of them,” Tessa replied, despite the fact that the back of her eyes burned and her throat seemed nearly swollen shut with hot tears.

“I will.” He nodded at Tessa’s father. “See ya around.”

Nate climbed into the cab of his truck and rammed it into gear.

Standing in the middle of the yard, Tessa watched as the rig carrying her precious horses rolled slowly down the lane in a plume of dry dust.

“You didn’t have to sell them,” Curtis said softly.

She refused to cry, though she felt a part of her had left in that trailer. “Of course I did. How else was I supposed to pay for this place?” she asked, dashing back the lingering tears in her eyes. Sniffing, her eyes red-rimmed, she faced her father.

“No one put a gun to your head, Tessa. Neither Mitch nor I—nor Denver McLean for that matter—expected you to buy the ranch.” He slung an arm across her shoulders and hugged her. “I’m proud of you, y’know. But you shouldn’t carry the world on your shoulders.”

---