The Cowboy's Homecoming
The Cowboy's ReunionSeeking redemption from his troubled past, cowboy Lee Bannister returns to his Montana hometown. He's not looking for love–just to prove he's not the same reckless guy who broke Abby Newton's heart and destroyed her family. But when Abby, a magazine photographer, is assigned to cover the story of his family ranch's 150th anniversary, old feelings start to resurface. He knows Abby will never forgive him. But as they spend more time together, they begin to discover the lies that kept them apart…and that some reunions are meant to last forever.
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The Cowboyâs Reunion
Seeking redemption from his troubled past, cowboy Lee Bannister returns to his Montana hometown. Heâs not looking for loveâjust to prove heâs not the same reckless guy who broke Abby Newtonâs heart and destroyed her family. But when Abby, a magazine photographer, is assigned to cover the story of his family ranchâs 150th anniversary, old feelings start to resurface. He knows Abby will never forgive him. But as they spend more time together, they begin to discover the lies that kept them apartâ¦and that some reunions are meant to last forever.
Lee knew he had to face reality.
âI know itâs too late and I know that words are easy, but I want to tell you that Iâm so sorry for what I did to your father,â he said. âI wishâ¦I wish I could turn back time. Do it over again.â
Abby glanced at him. âYouâre not the only one who wishes that.â
The bitterness in her voice made him wait a beat to give the moment some weight.
âMy father spent a lot of time struggling with pain,â she continued. âHe was a broken man after that. My parentsâ marriage couldnât hold together. What you did to my familyâ¦me and my brotherââ She stopped there, holding up her hand as if trying to stop the memories.
Lee knew he deserved every bit of her derision, but he would be lying if he said he wasnât hurt by it.
At one time Abby had been important to him. Her poor opinion of him hurt almost as much as the loss of his freedom.
âI better go,â she said quietly.
But he wished sheâd stay.
CAROLYNE AARSEN and her husband, Richard, live on a small ranch in northern Alberta, where they have raised four children and numerous foster children and are still raising cattle. Carolyne crafts her stories in an office with a large west-facing window, through which she can watch the changing seasons while struggling to make her words obey.
Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.
âColossians 3:13
For all those who struggle with hurts
and forgiveness.
Contents
All he needed was a few more minutes. A slice of time to make the shift from Lee Bannister, ex-con, to Lee Bannisterâwayward son coming home.
And he knew exactly where to get it.
Lee feathered the brakes of his pickup as his eyes scanned the ditch to his right. It had been years since he was in this part of Montana, but when he rounded another curve, he saw the grass-covered approach heâd been looking for. Coming to a full stop, he could just make out the twin tracks of a road heading through a break in the trees. He parked his truck, two wheels well into the ditch so that any motorist cresting the hill could easily pass it.
Once he stepped out, he took a moment to appreciate the warm summer sun beating down on his head, the melody of the blackbirds twittering in the aspen trees.
The air held the tang of pine and warm grass and he let it seep through him as he walked the overgrown trail. Every muffled fall of his boots on the grass eased away the clang and clamor of rig work that surrounded him every waking hour.
He ducked, brushing aside a branch that almost slapped him in the face, looking forward to the solitude and the view at the end of the trail. Few people knew about the lookout point he was headed to. Only his sisters and his parents and a couple of the guys Lee had partied with in high school.
Lee pushed the thought back. Though he knew other bits of history would crowd in on his consciousness during this trip back to the ranch, he intended not to jog too many memories of the past while he was here. He had come to help his sister celebrate her wedding and his parents commemorate the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the ranch. And that was it. He had no desire to reminisce about the good old days with any of his friends.
He stepped over a fallen tree and skirted another tangle of small brush. A few more steps and he stopped, breathing deeply.
It was as if the world had fallen away below his feet.
Granite mountains, solid and stately, their jagged peaks still etched with winter snow, cradled the basin below him, simultaneously creating a majesty and a sense of security.
The Saddle River unspooled below him, a winding ribbon of silver meandering through the valley as poplar and spruce trees crowded its banks. To his left lay the town of Saddlebank, its streets dotted with trees and paralleling the railroad that followed the river. From here he could make out Main Street with its brick buildings and, in the dead center of town, Mercy Park with its requisite memorial and gazebo. Past the park and above the trees, he could see the steeple of Saddle Community Church to one side, the cross and bell of the Catholic church on the other. Beyond Saddlebank and to his right, the rest of the valley was taken up with ranchesâone of which, Refuge Ranch, was his final destination.
