More to Texas than Cowboys. Roz Fox Denny
Shelby run down? No. She examined the pros and cons of big and little dogs until she fell asleep on the drive home.
Noah let five minutes elapse before posing a worried question to Greer. “You’ve been very glum since we left the clinic. Is something wrong? Are you worried about her arm healing properly? Or is it a concern about not having insurance? I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help overhearing you ask Kristin about a payment plan.”
Greer leaned back and shut her eyes. “It’s all of that and more. I think whoever said you could never go home again was right. I’m beginning to think chucking everything in Colorado to move here was a mistake. The condition of the ranch was bad omen number one. Shelby’s accident is number two. I’m wondering what’ll happen next.”
“Where you went wrong,” he snorted, “is believing there’s such a thing as good and bad omens. Life is all about having faith in a higher power. Place your trust in His hands, Greer.”
“Yeah, right! The last thing I need is a sermon.” Her voice rose and woke Shelby, who started to cry, claiming her arm hurt.
Greer awkwardly gathered the gangly girl into a hug, not a simple matter because they both wore seat belts.
“Mama, will you ask Father Kelley to put in my favorite CD?”
“Shh, honey bunny, don’t you remember I had you bring the CD case into the kitchen? We’ll be home soon. Until our furniture arrives, I’ll make you a bed on the porch swing and you can listen to music there.”
“That’s not going to be very comfortable,” Noah interjected. “How about if we stop at your place and leave a note for your movers on the door with my phone number. You two can spend the afternoon at my house. I’m sure my living room couch is more comfortable than your porch swing. I’ll ride another of my horses back to your ranch and collect Jasper.”
“Thank you, but no,” Greer said primly. “You’ve done quite enough. I wouldn’t presume to take you away from the people in your congregation.”
Noah could hardly miss the brittle edge to her voice. Every so often he slanted a curious glance in the mirror. Each time she pursed her lips and turned aside.
It was clear to Noah when he pulled in and stopped outside her house that Greer couldn’t wait to see the last of him. Playing back the afternoon’s events, he was unable to put a finger on what he might have done wrong. But he was a pretty good reader of body language. Greer wanted to carry Shelby from the Blazer to the porch swing without accepting his help. At nine, the kid wasn’t much shorter than Greer. And she was all arms and legs. Shelby fretted, whined and cried, saying, “Ouch, Mama, I hurt. Please let him carry me. He’s bigger and stronger.”
The tears in Shelby’s eyes moved Greer to give in, albeit reluctantly. She gathered up the blankets and pillows from the car that Shelby had curled up in on their driving trip. Bustling about, doing her level best to ignore Noah, Greer spread pillows and blankets on the swing so he could put Shelby down.
“Do you have a cell phone?”
“Yes,” she said, but didn’t elaborate or offer her number.
He reached for his wallet and took out a business card that listed his numbers at home and at the church office. He passed it to Greer. She stuffed the card in her purse, then abruptly went into the house. The screen door banged shut. She opened it just enough to tell Shelby, “Honey, you need to thank Father Kelley so he can get along home. I’m going to fetch the CD player and CDs.”
Noah returned the wallet to his back pocket. Nothing in his beliefs said he had to hang around where he wasn’t wanted. With a smile for Shelby, he grabbed his saddle from behind the swing where she now sat, her arm propped on a pile of pillows.
“Thanks for everything you did,” she said, tearily. “Mama wouldn’t like if I asked, but…will you come see me again tomorrow, Father Kelley?”
Hearing the woebegone tone of her request, Noah hesitated. “Maybe I’ll ride over if you’ll agree to call me Noah instead of Father Kelley. Tell your mom the same goes for her. Titles are too stuffy. After all, we’re neighbors and I hope we’ll be friends.”
About that time he chanced to see Greer peering out a kitchen window—checking to see if he’d left. Her expression plainly said she wanted him gone before she put in another appearance on the porch. That meant he should backpedal on his promise.
“Actually, I may not be able to come by, Shelby. A man in my position doesn’t have much free time. Tomorrow I need to work on a sermon. Saturday I coach a kids’ basketball team. Sunday I have a full schedule. I know you don’t feel like doing anything right now, but by Monday you’ll be as good as new except for wearing a cast. And like I said, everyone you meet at school will want to sign their name on it. That’s tradition.”
“Will you sign it first?”
“The plaster’s still too soft.” Noah jogged down the steps, stirrups clanging as they slapped his leg. He slung the saddle over Jasper’s back and tightened the cinch. “Kristin said if it wasn’t for the fact that you broke both bones in that arm, she’d have used one of the newfangled inflatable casts. Take it from me, though, they’re not as impressive as the one you got.” Winking, he vaulted into the saddle.
“What’s impres—” Clattering down the gravel path, he didn’t hear her question.
Inside by the open window, Greer heard the entire exchange. Something cramped in her chest as she witnessed the easy, sexy way he had of mounting a horse.
Snatching up the CD player and several of Shelby’s favorite disks, she poked her head out the window. “Father Kelley meant your cast is cool, Shel.”
Drawing back, Greer noticed their moving van slowing to negotiate the turn into their lane. Darn, she could’ve used a few minutes to get more organized.
CANTERING OUT, Noah saw the big van make the sharp turn off the main road. If he was really a nice guy he’d go back and help the two men seated in the cab. Given the late hour, they’d be lucky to have everything unloaded by dark. Greer would be left with the chore of assembling beds and making them up. To say nothing of knocking together something for supper. His stomach growled, reminding him they’d all missed lunch.
He would’ve turned back if Greer Bell had shown the slightest indication that she’d appreciate his help. She hadn’t. In fact she’d been testy almost from the moment they met. Noah had no illusions that if she’d had any other choice, she would’ve sent him packing when he showed up to untangle Shelby from the broken porch rail.
Crossing the point where their two property lines intersected, Noah kicked Jasper into a solid gallop, never once glancing back or letting on that he’d noticed the moving van headed into the Dragging F.
He’d have to quit referring to it as the Dragging F, especially considering the disgust Greer had expressed for the name today. Not that he wasn’t in agreement. If he planned to see her again, which he now doubted, Noah would’ve suggested she name the ranch after the fantastic sunrises that rose daily over the river. As if the woman would stand still for any advice from him.
Again Noah wondered what he’d done to make her angry. Or did she dislike all men? He knew, of course, that some divorced women took back their maiden names. It was less common if that woman had kids, which Greer did. Come to think of it, what had she said earlier at Tanner’s—that Shelby had never met her grandparents?
Robert Bell, Noah could imagine, since he was a crusty old guy. The type who was a law unto himself. One who took his job on the church board seriously—which also gave Noah pause. He’d refrained from telling his father that he was growing tired of the copious complaints from Holden’s friends on the board about his lax style of handling church duties. Noah hadn’t wanted to press a man recovering from a stroke. He knew his father well enough to figure they’d clash on other issues, too. After all, he’d lived in Holden’s house for eighteen years. It was a given that they wouldn’t see eye to eye on Noah’s relaxed