CHAPTER 3

C HAPTER 3

"Why did I decide to get married at Christmas?" Bernie wailed as they drove back up to the Nilsen Ranch. It was Sunday and Pen's day off. "It must be one of my most stupid ideas ever."

"It's not stupid." Pen was fairly certain her normally calm cousin was suffering from bridal nerves. "It's all going to be fine. Everyone has accepted their invitations, and there are no big storms forecast. It will all go according to plan."

At least she hoped it would because she'd been responsible for a lot of the planning. The wedding was a week away, and there were still a few details to get right, which was why she'd asked Bernie to come to the ranch with her. Rob would probably be there, and Pen knew he'd be horrified if they had to have another awkward conversation. He hadn't responded to her offer of friendship, which hurt more than she'd expected.

People thought she was oblivious to what went on around her, but it wasn't true. She'd learned through painful experience to be super aware of how people reacted to her. She'd had to acquire social skills that came naturally to other kids, and it had been hard. Even now she sometimes felt like an alien in a world where she never quite fit in.

She got out of Bernie's truck and turned to look down the slope toward the old barn, where she could hear whistling. Completely forgetting Bernie, she walked toward the sound, her attention on the man in the center of the field with the young horse.

Luke and Noah were standing at the fence in typical cowboy pose, one booted foot on the bottom rail of the gate, their arms folded on the top rail, providing a place to rest their chin while they watched whatever was going on in the field. Luke glanced at Pen and grinned.

"I didn't know Rob was a horse whisperer, did you?"

Pen shook her head and focused her attention on the man and the horse. From what she could tell there was some kind of conversation going on between Rob and the unbroken colt. As they watched, he slowly picked up a saddle blanket from the ground and showed it to the nervous horse, allowing it plenty of time to sniff the scary new thing.

"He's already got the halter on, which neither Noah nor I could do," Luke murmured. "If he can get the horse to tolerate the blanket on his back, we might be onto a winner."

Rob gently ran his hand down the horse's back in a repetitive motion that made Pen wish she were the one standing next to him. All the time his hand was moving he was talking to the horse and edging the blanket closer, touching the fabric against his neck and lower, letting him get a good sniff of it. With the economy of motion Pen was used to seeing from him when he cooked, Rob finally placed the saddle blanket on the horse's back, continuing the soothing motion of his hand over the woven fabric.

The horse flicked his ears a couple of times and looked around to check what was on his back but didn't seem to mind the intruder at all.

"That's . . . awesome." Noah had a big, deep voice that usually came out super loud and sometimes made Pen want to cover her ears. Even his whispering sounded like normal talking, but Pen appreciated him trying to keep it down. "We might be able to save this horse after all."

Luke called out to Rob. "That's probably enough for today."

"Yeah, I was just about to wrap it up," Rob said. He attached a rope to the halter and led the horse toward the gate. "I suggest you get out of the way. He's still skittish around people."

Luke, Noah, and Pen moved into the shadow of the barn as Rob led the horse out, their heads close together, the horse's ears constantly flicking in Rob's direction.

"Man, that's something to see," Luke said.

Behind Pen someone cleared their throat. She turned to see Bernie looking at her.

"Where did you go? I walked into the house talking away, and then I looked around, and you were nowhere in sight."

"Sorry, Bernie. I got distracted," Pen apologized.

Luke hugged Bernie and dropped a kiss on top of her head. "You again? You might as well move in you're here so often."

"Not until you put in those extra closets you promised me," Bernie said as she kissed him back. "I'm here because Pen wanted to run something by me, but then she disappeared."

"We were watching Rob work his magic with a horse," Luke said.

"Ah." Bernie looked at Pen. "Now it makes sense."

"He's a horse whisperer." Luke grinned at them both. "I've never seen anything like it."

Bernie glanced over at the snow-covered paddock. "Why are you breaking horses in winter?"

"Ask Rob." Luke turned toward Rob, who was approaching their little group. "Want to tell them the story?"

Rob shrugged, his gaze drifting past Pen to fasten on Luke. "You tell it better, boss."

"Can we go back to the house first?" Bernie asked. "It's freezing."

Rob looked like that was the last thing he wanted to do, but he nodded, and walked beside Pen, his attention obviously elsewhere.

Pen risked a question. "Are you worried about leaving the horse?"

"Yeah. He needs all the reassurance he can get right now."

"You were very patient with him."

"After everything he's been through, he deserves to be treated well." There was a hard note in Rob's voice. "I'm amazed he even let me try to get things back on track. People suck."

"I agree," Pen said as he held the door open for her to enter the ranch house. "But you were wonderful."

He shrugged. "Just some tricks I picked up from my old man, who can get any horse following him around in minutes."

"Your dad's a rancher?"

Rob went still, a pained expression on his face, like he'd accidentally revealed the codes to the nuclear arsenal. He gazed at Pen and slowly nodded. "Yeah."

"Which is why you know how to work on a ranch and have a talent with horses." Pen kept her tone casual. She had no idea why speaking of his father was so difficult for Rob, but from her intense study of normal people's faces she knew when she should stop asking questions.

She took off her coat and Rob hung it up for her while she removed her boots. Luke and Bernie had gone into the kitchen ahead of them. Sally had obviously been busy getting the Christmas decorations up, as the house was filled with holly, paper chains, and lights. The scent of pine sap from a recently cut Christmas tree permeated the air.

Rob followed her into the kitchen, his reluctance to be there obvious even to Pen. Luke handed them all mugs of coffee and leaned back against the counter, his attention on Rob.

"Tell Pen and Bernie what happened with the horse."

Rob looked down at his coffee. "Not much to tell, really. Someone put up a flyer in the coffee shop asking for help with a dangerous and unmanageable horse, so I went to take a look."

Luke waited a beat and then couldn't resist adding to Rob's story. "So Rob called me and asked if I could meet him at this horse barn on the Reno side of town. Apparently some millionaire bought an unbroken colt at one of the mustangs roundups in Colorado and, despite having no experience whatsoever, decided he could break the horse."

"Typical," Bernie muttered. She ran the town humane society and was well used to having pets dumped on her by clueless people. "I wish some places did better checks on their buyers rather than let some idiot buy a completely wild horse and screw up."

"This particular guy ended up in the ER with a concussion and a broken ankle," Luke added. "He intended to have the horse put down. The owners of the barn figured they'd try and find someone to take the horse before the guy got out of the hospital. They put notices up all over the place and on the internet, appealing for help."

"Good for them," Pen said.

"Which is how Rob found out about the horse, took me to meet him, and asked if we could bring him here and make things right." Luke looked over at Rob. "Once I'd squared it with the original owner, we were good to go."

"Did you buy the horse?" Pen asked.

"We didn't have to. The guy was just glad to get rid of the problem."

"How did you know Rob would be able to fix it?"

"Because he told me he could." Luke smiled at her. "And, as it's the longest conversation I've had with Rob in the six months he's lived here, I figured it was important to him."

Rob cleared his throat. "I was willing to buy the colt, but I had to okay it with Luke because it's his ranch."

"I'm glad you did," Luke said. "Because I got the privilege of watching a miracle unfold."

"Hardly that," Rob said.

"Dude, a week ago we barely managed to load that colt on the trailer without getting injured. He's a handful, and now you've literally got him eating out of your hand."

Pen smiled at Rob, who for once held her gaze. "I think it's wonderful."

"Yeah?"

"Do you have a name for him yet?"

"Not yet. I like to work out their personality before I name them."

"What a great idea. I wish humans did that, because some people have names that really don't suit them, don't they?" Pen asked. "I mean, what if we waited until we were old enough to make our own decisions? I bet we'd all choose something different."

"I guess." Rob blinked at her.

"I used to work with a person called Joy and she wasn't joyful at all, and some people just don't look like a ‘Matt' or a ‘Dave,' do they?" She studied everyone's bemused faces and reminded herself not to go off on a tangent. "It's a paint horse, right?"

"Yeah." Rob looked relieved that she'd gotten back on track. "He's going to be a stunner when he's fully grown."

"Do you intend to keep him?"

"It depends how he does with the training," Rob said. "Not every horse wants to be ridden."

Pen nodded. "Some of them are free spirits and should remain so."

"Except this one can't go back," Luke said. "He's been away from his herd for too long."

"Poor horse." Pen sipped her coffee. "It's a good job he's found Rob then, isn't it?"

* * *

An hour later, after she'd worked through the minor issues with Bernie and come to some conclusions, Pen walked back down to the barn and went to find the paint horse, who had been put into the corner stall. The upper part of the door was open. Pen could see him happily eating hay, his tail swishing gently. He paid no attention to her at all.

"Don't go in there, okay?"

"I'm not that stupid." Pen didn't need to turn to know that Rob was behind her.

"It's always better to ask than to assume," he said as he joined her at the half-open stall door. "He looks pretty calm right now, but it's very superficial."

"He sounds just like I used to be," Pen said. "When I was a kid, I used to have these epic meltdowns, and my parents would have no clue why. I'd literally scream the place down, hit, bite, you name it, I'd do it."

Rob didn't immediately reply, and Pen kept talking. "Sometimes it was that the label on my clothing was itching me, or there was a loud noise, or too many people, or . . ." She smiled. "No wonder my parents stopped wanting to take me anywhere. I always ruined it for everyone else." She glanced up at Rob. "I don't do that anymore, I promise."

"I guess you just found it hard to express yourself." Rob nodded at the horse. "Just like this guy."

"At least I wasn't torn away from my family and left with someone who didn't understand me. My parents were awesome. They took me out of elementary school and my mom taught me herself until I was ready to deal with the kids in school."

"You got bullied?"

"No, I just couldn't cope with the noise, and all the change, and . . ." She sighed. "Everything really. You can't learn if you spend most of your day trying to crawl under your desk and curl up in a ball."

She nudged his elbow with her own. "But I don't want you feeling sorry for me or anything. I had parents who cared enough to find workable solutions for my issues and eventually a school district that made things better for me."

Rob looked at her. "You make it sound way easier than it probably was."

"It wasn't easy."

There was a short silence while they both avoided each other's gaze and studied the horse.

"I had a great childhood." Pen held her breath as Rob started talking. "Two brothers, two sisters, and parents who brought us up to be hardworking, god-fearing people. My dad is third-generation Californian. His great-grandfather came from Mexico to work on a cattle ranch when he was fifteen and never left. Eventually his son bought his own ranch."

"That's amazing," she said softly.

"Yeah."

She glanced up at his face, and he wasn't smiling. "They sound like good people."

"They are."

"Just like you."

"I'm not good." He straightened up. "I think I hear Bernie calling. Are you supposed to be getting a ride back to town with her?"

Even Pen knew a dismissal when she heard one, but something made her keep going.

"Are they still in California?"

"I guess so." His shrug wasn't convincing.

"Will you see them at Christmas?"

"How could I? I'm working here." He walked toward the entrance of the barn. "Bernie's coming this way. She's definitely looking for you."

Pen followed him out, torn between her secret pleasure that he'd confided in her and confusion at his obvious desire to forget everything he'd just said.

"I bet they'd love to hear from you."

He stopped so suddenly she almost walked into him.

"Pen . . . just because you think the world is full of sparkles, love, and endless cupcakes doesn't mean it's like that for the rest of us."

She met his gaze. "But I don't think that."

"You just try and see the best in everything and everyone."

It was her turn to frown. "What's wrong with that?"

He blew out a breath. "It's not realistic."

"It's better than the alternative. Expecting everything to go wrong isn't healthy for you."

"That's . . ." Rob stared at her and slowly shook his head. "I don't have time for this. I've got work to do."

"And I'm not stopping you." Pen walked past him. "Have a great day off, Rob. I'll see you at the café on Monday."

* * *

Rob watched Pen walk up the slope and looked around for something solid to kick, seeing as he couldn't kick himself. What the hell was wrong with him? Sharing family stuff with a woman who thought life was a bed of roses and that everything would probably work out okay if you just had positive thoughts. Why had he even opened his mouth? It wasn't as if she'd forced him to talk to her.

Of course, his family was still at the ranch they'd owned for two generations. Where else would they be? The fact he wasn't with them was probably celebrated every year. He remembered the horror on his parents' faces when he'd been convicted and sent to jail. He'd refused to see them because at that point in his life he was so busy blaming everyone else for his own failures that he thought they were the ones who'd let him down.

They'd tried to write to him, and he'd returned their letters unopened. After a while they'd stopped, and he'd convinced himself he'd done the right thing and set them free from worrying about him. When he got out, he'd moved to a different part of the state and started again as a dishwasher—the only job he'd been able to get. Eventually he'd met Anton, and life had improved.

Rob realized he was staring into space and tried to get a hold of himself. He was in a good place, he'd paid for his crimes, and he was on the road to recovery.

He grimaced. Now he sounded like Pen, who despite what he'd thought, hadn't always had an easy time of it. She'd tried to laugh it off, but he knew in his bones it must have been tough.

He reminded himself that assuming stuff about people made him the ass, not Pen, and that somehow he didn't mind her knowing about his family. He was certain she wouldn't pass the information on—not that there was anyone who cared enough to want to know about him. But even sharing that much had made him as nervous as the unbroken colt. But she'd listened and offered her opinion, and he hadn't minded one bit, which was a first.

He'd offered to help Luke and Noah with the winter prep up at the snowmobile barn, so he headed that way. The snow had settled in patches, but it wasn't deep enough to bother him, and he enjoyed the snap of the cold air. It reminded him of the years he'd spent working on his parents' ranch—until the day he'd confessed he wanted to be a chef and all hell had broken loose.

But now? Rob took a moment to stop and admire the distant snow-capped mountains and the impenetrable green depths of the forest. He could see the beauty of both jobs. He chuckled to himself. Maybe Pen had come up with a whole new career for him—the cooking cowboy. He'd be on TV before he knew it.