Love Letters & Home (Whispers In Wyoming #1) Read online

  “I can’t believe I’m on a ranch that was established in 1865,” a portly older woman said, peering through the glass. “My, what they must have been through.”

  “It’s not like this house was here then,” her husband grumbled, turning a pristine, new cowboy hat in his hands.

  “I know that, Phil, but we’re still walking through history.”

  “You read too many books,” the husband spoke again, a teasing glint entering his eye. “Now let’s go out to the barn and have that riding lesson,” he finished, placing his hand at her back and escorting her out.

  Phil suddenly felt all warm and fuzzy, her connection to the ranch growing deeper with every letter she read, with every guest that walked through the door of the Broken J.

  The heat moved a little lower as she watched Chase bend, intertwining his hands to help the older woman on to her placid mount. The man surely filled out a pair of Levi’s.

  “Phil?” Kade’s voice coming from the hall caught Philomena by surprise.

  “What’s up, cuz?” she grinned at her nearest kin and good friend.

  “You think you can live without me for a few days come fall? I mean if…” the big man scratched the back of his neck, cocking his head as if he were looking for the right words.

  “Whatever you need, Kade,” Phil offered with a smile. “I never would have gotten this place up and running without you. If anyone deserves a break, it’s you.”

  “Thanks,” Kade said, ducking his head and stepping into the sun.

  Phil shook her head, turning back to the ringing phone on her desk. More bookings were coming in and the calendar was filling up nicely. She was even considering more activities for the guests.

  They were already using the big wagon to ferry people to prime picnic spots, offering horseback riding with lessons for those who wanted them, having mock cattle drives, and they’d even opened up a swimming hole along the stream.

  Shelving thoughts of expansion, Phil picked up the phone and got back to work. She’d let this summer play out, then see what came next.

  “It’s going good, isn’t it?” Mrs. Wade asked her a half hour later in the kitchen as she fixed a snack for her boss.

  “Yes, Mrs. Wade. It’s going good,” Phil laughed, enjoying breaking the grammar rules.

  “I’ve got everything organized for the big barbeque on the 4th,” Mrs. Wade said, handing Phil a sandwich and glass of iced tea.

  “Mm,” Phil responded, sipping the tea. “Chase and Kade have the rodeo organized, the announcer, the animals, even a few of Chase’s buddies are pitching in to ride.”

  “I just hope that boy can make it back from the hearing in time to ride.” The older woman shook her head. “You’d think that father of his would have grown up by now. That boy’s suffered enough.”

  “I don’t know how he stays so calm,” Phil commented, settling on a high stool.

  “He found his peace,” Mrs. Wade sighed, a softness in her voice.

  “That’s what I mean,” Phil continued, “I know he’s upset, but instead of panicking or raging, he’s getting on with things. I’ve even seen him joking with Kade and the guests.”

  Mrs. Wade patted Phil on the shoulder. “He’s made of strong stuff, that one,” she said, “and his heart’s where it belongs. He’ll make it through. We’re all praying for him.”

  Phil smirked as the older woman turned back to her work in the kitchen, then picking up her tea and sandwich, she headed back to her office.

  ***

  “You got a minute, boss lady?” Chase’s easy teasing made Phil smile as evening fell.

  “Sure, but if I’m ‘boss lady’ does that mean you’re one of my minions?” she shot back, suppressing a giggle.

  “I’ve been called worse.” Chase grinned, leading her out the door and toward the barn.

  Phil skipped a step to keep up with the man’s long strides, bumping him with her shoulder as she caught up.

  Chase lost a step as Philomena caught up. He liked the way she felt up close, but he ignored it just the same.

  “Is something wrong?” Phil asked as they approached the barn, the warm glow of the interior lights warming the falling darkness.

  “One of the horses has a scrape on his leg and I wanted to let you know.” Chase ushered her into the interior of the stable with an outstretched arm.

  The heady smell of horse and hay rolled over Phil in a wave, and the soft whinnies and nickers of horses welcomed her.

  “Is it serious?” Phil asked, her brows falling in concern.

  “Not overly so, but I thought you should know and keep an eye on it.”

  “Should we call in the vet?”

  “We’ll see how it goes for now, and call in the vet if it doesn’t improve.” He stopped at a stall door, pulling a carrot from his pocket and leaning on the solid barrier.

  Sidling up to Chase, Phil looked over the door at the sturdy bay with two white stockings on his front leg.

  Extending the carrot to the horse, Chase rubbed the animal’s dark face and pointed to the long, raw scratch down the horse’s cannon bone, a stark red stripe on the white socks.

  “How’d it happen?”

  “One of the guests panicked and pulled back on the reins too hard. Braden slid to a stop near a bush and a broken branch caught him.”

  Phil let the man’s warmth soak into her shoulder where they stood studying the horse. Somehow, the simple contact tugged at the tension along her spine and she sighed as she relaxed, blushing softly when he turned to look at her.

  “What are you doing for it?” Phil’s voice sounded soft.

  “We’ll put some wound coat on it, but first we cleaned it and covered it with antibiotic cream. He should be fine.”

  Turning slightly, Phil looked up at the lean cowboy. “You have it all taken care of.”

  Chase dropped his eyes, looking down at her. “Pretty much, but you should see how things are done, know what we’re all doing on the ranch, in case one of us isn’t available.”

  Phil’s heart seemed to stutter for a second. Was Chase planning on leaving? Things were just starting to settle into a routine. It was strange to realize how much she’d grown to depend on him.

  “I’m going to be gone a couple days the first of July. Kade’s taking his first vacation in forever…” he shrugged, offering her his most charming smile.

  “True. Of course, we do have another wrangler.”

  Chase shook his head. “We do, but one man can’t keep up with all of the stable work. You never know when you might need to lead a trail ride, saddle horses, help with feeding, dress a wound, when needed?”

  “Oh, I see.” Phil smiled, feeling relief that Chase wasn’t planning on leaving.

  “Maybe tomorrow you can help me with the early trail ride,” Chase suggested.

  A slow smile spread across Phil’s face. She wouldn’t mind taking Chase Haven for a morning ride.

  “I’ll be there.” For a moment, her brow furrowed. “No, I’ll let you know. I need to make a few phone calls first, and be sure we have someone to answer the phone.”

  Grinning around the stubble on his chin, Chase tugged the tip of his battered hat and turned away, walking down the aisle to grab a pitch fork.

  Stepping out of the big double doors of the old barn, Phil breathed deeply of the warm summer air.

  It was a beautiful night. The last visages of gold slipped below the horizon, like a gilded cord pulling the shade of darkness closed. The cooling air enhanced the smells of grass and horse alike.

  The smells were so familiar, so welcome; Phil could feel them seeping into her very soul. Closing her eyes, she could still picture the big ranch house, the little sod shack, even the bunk house and ancient trees that stood on her land.

  After only a few months, she felt that the Broken J had embraced, welcomed her home.

  The jingle of harness caught her attention and she watched Kade drive a wagon load of happily chattering guests back to the ranch from t
he chuck wagon meal and bonfire. Chase was right. She needed to get out on the ranch more.

  ***

  The next three weeks rolled by in a haze of revolving guests and activities. Phil hired a fulltime receptionist and shared the work load with her, keeping the ranch largely booked solid.

  She couldn’t believe how liberating it was to be out on the trails with the guests. Or mingling around the bonfires, even participating in the mock cattle drives. Phil could almost imagine what it had been like all those years ago, for the original founders of the ranch.

  “I’ll be back in a couple of days,” Chase said, his voice low as he opened the door of his truck. The day of his court hearing in Colorado, though no surprise, had arrived and the cowboy rolled out of the ranch on a silent prayer.

  Even with the excitement of the rodeo arriving and a huge crew of men, women and animals, Phil felt the absence of her lead wrangler. She’d long since given up denying to herself that she found the man attractive.

  Phil hoped everything would work out for him, but she was too familiar with the uncertainties of life to think it would come off without a hitch.

  Chapter 11

  “Phil?” Chase’s steady voice came over the phone lines.

  “Yes,” Philomena spoke around a yawn, her eyes coming in to focus slowly.

  “My truck’s dead.”

  “Where?” The slim woman rolled out of bed, reaching for her jeans.

  “Just outside of Casper. Can you come and get me?”

  “That will take hours!” Phil scrabbled harder to get dress, pulling her dark hair out of her collar with an agitated twist. “You’re scheduled to ride at one.”

  “Tell Kade to drag out the roping, barrel racing, and log pull as long as he can. If you leave now, we’ll make it.”

  “Alright, Mr. Optimism. See you soon.” Phil hung up the phone, stomping into her boots and heading for the kitchen, where the first sounds of breakfast were stirring.

  “Everything alright?” Mrs. Wade asked, handing down a large travel mug.

  “Chase’s truck is down just outside of Casper, and I have to go get him.” Phil blinked weary eyes, pouring coffee into the mug. “Oh ambrosia,” she moaned, taking her first sip.

  “Better tell Kade, he’ll be at the barn by now,” Mrs. Wade advised sagely, making Phil smile.

  “I’m going now.” Phil yawned, heading out the door. “Hold down the fort for me while I’m gone,” she called back to the house manager.

  “You’re out here early,” Kade commented as he walked out of a stall leading Amy on a purple line.

  “I have to go get Chase,” she replied, reaching out and stroking the horse’s forelock smooth.

  “Why, what happened?” Kade’s blue eyes were full of concern.

  “His truck broke down. I have to pick him up in Casper.”

  “That’s not good.” Kade’s words were droll. “You’d better get going. I’ll make sure the rodeo rolls out.”

  “Thanks, Kade.” Phil covered another yawn then chugged a few gulps of her coffee. “How does anyone survive a morning without coffee?” she quipped, moving toward her car and the dawning of a new day.

  She had just settled into the driver’s seat when Kade knocked on the window. “You’re going to be cutting it close, so you’d better take this with you.” He tossed a bag in the back seat. “Chase’ll want it.”

  Driving into the sun for the next three hours, Phil drained her coffee as she searched the highway for any signs of Chase’s truck. A wave of relief rolled over her as she spotted the old thing sitting on the side of the road.

  Crossing the road, Phil parked in front of the truck. Just as she was about to open her door, the tall man unfolded himself from the cab, taking Phil’s breath away with delight.

  “You want to drive?” she asked, rolling down the window of the dusty sedan.

  “No, you got my things?”

  “Kade tossed them in the back.”

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Chase asked, tipping his head as he peeked in the back seat.

  “Your hair,” Phil said, studying him. “You got it cut.”

  “I thought I should look presentable,” Chase offered with a shrug, sliding into the passenger seat.

  Reversing, Phil checked for traffic and pulled onto the road for home.

  “You look good,” she said, cutting her eyes at her wrangler again. His face was clean-shaven, his hair clipped close and his dark gray suit surprisingly un-rumpled.

  “You have breakfast yet?” Chase asked, changing the subject.

  “No, we can swing by a drive-thru,” she said, “besides my go juice is empty.” She lifted her silver travel mug, giving it a shake.

  “How’d it go?” Phil finally asked as they unwrapped biscuits and sausage.

  “What?” Chase asked, biting into the fluffy white disc.

  “The hearing,” Phil smirked.

  “Judge says the rights are mine, doesn’t matter what dad’s been doing with old Butch all these years.”

  “You mean…”

  “Yep, he’s been standing the old fella at stud and raking in the fees.”

  “I’m sorry.” Philomena’s heart went out to him.

  “It’s what it is,” Chase offered with a shrug.

  “Was he there?”

  “No, he didn’t turn up, but a slick lawyer was there, claiming my dad had the right to the stallion since he should have inherited from grandad.”

  “But your grandfather left the breeding stock to you.”

  “He did. That didn’t mean my dad wasn’t willing to try to take them anyway.”

  Phil’s hand strayed from the steering wheel, coming to rest on Chase’s arm.

  “I may have to fight this battle again in the near future.”

  “Just let me know what you need.” Philomena Ballard felt utterly protective. She’d never had anyone who needed her help before, not really. For most of her adult life she’d been on her own, independent, working for what she wanted, doing what she wanted. Suddenly the realization that she was responsible for others hit her, but instead of being scary it felt right, like family.

  Setting the cruise, they settled in for the long drive, hoping that the ranch was functioning without them.

  “Not long now,” she offered, smiling and rousing Chase from a little nap.

  “I’d better get ready.” Chase slipped out of his seatbelt, shocking Phil, as he plopped into the back seat.

  “What are you doing?” she scolded.

  “Changing,” Chase said, pulling off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.

  “You can’t do that,” Phil said, catching a glimpse of strong well-muscled shoulders and smooth, sun-kissed skin.

  Once more focusing on the road, Phil chuckled. The crazy cowboy; the sound of zipper had her eyes back on the mirror as Chase stripped out of his pants.

  “Hey, eyes on the road,” Chase chided, giving her a glare as he shimmied into a pair of dark jeans.

  Phil laughed, filling the car with the sound. This crazy cowboy never failed to surprise. In no time at all, he had pulled on a heavily tooled western shirt in blue and white, a course of yellow and red roses twisted along the panels over his chest.

  The sound of a leather belt snapping shut pulled Phil’s eyes to the back seat one more time. The man was the essence of a rodeo bronc rider; all that was missing was a pair of leather chaps to go with the oversized silver buckle.

  The fields and parking lot of the ranch were packed with cars as they rolled into the yard.

  Wild cheers echoed over the prairie as people and animals milled about making noise.

  The smell of barbeque, beans, and bread filled the air, which snapped with the electricity of excitement.

  Phil had no sooner put the car in park than Chase was stepping out of the car and trotting toward the steel-railed fences. Leaning forward, her violet eyes bright, Phil watched him stride to the arena.

  She liked the view of his receding
form, as she noted the roses she’s seen on the front of his shirt twined across his shoulders to mingle with a dark, heavily stitched cross in the center of his spine.

  Chapter 12

  Climbing from the car, Phil headed toward the arena, pausing to let a teenaged girl ride out of the gate on Amy, the garish purple saddle sparkling in the sun.

  The loud speakers crackled into life as a deep drawl echoed over the corral, “and that was Marcy Royal, on Amethyst Rose. Boy Howdy, wasn’t that a treat?” A loud cheer rose from the crowd and Phil hurried to find her seat in the bleachers.

  The air zinged with excitement as men and horses removed the large barrels from the arena, making Phil fairly bounce in her seat. Settling onto the hard bench, Phil let her eyes roam around the assembly, half her mind assessing the success of the event, the other half completely immersed in the rodeo itself.

  Breathing deeply of the unique aroma of the day, Philomena shimmied with excitement and watched the first bronc loaded into the shoot.

  The announcer’s voice became a background drone as several local cowboys shot out through the gate in an explosion of hooves and heels. The rodeo horses knew their jobs and hit the ground with a thump, writhing and bucking with first their heads, then their heels in the air.

  The crowd was thrilled watching one after another rider take their lumps, most of them landing in the dust before the buzzer rang or the pick-up riders pulled them from the bronc.

  Finally, the announcer called the name that everyone at the Broken J had been waiting for, and they turned to watch Chase Haven ease himself onto the bare back of a spotted horse, taking the rope in his gloved hand and pushing his hat down tight.

  Seconds later, his slight nod had the gate swinging wide, and the big Appaloosa horse leapt for freedom, landing with a jolt on all four hooves, jarring the slim rider’s teeth in his jaw.

  Phil leaned forward on her seat, her eyes raking the cowboy’s face as his blunted spurs raked the horse’s sides.

  Another leap and the horse rose high on its back legs, arching its neck and rolling its spine until breaking like a cresting wave with a crash onto the solid ground, then lifting his heels in the air.