Reunion Western-Style

Josie’s Wedding Dress by Victoria Bylin

Desperate for someone to help her save her ranch, Josie Bright makes a deal with Ty Donner. Now the man who’d left her waiting at the altar is making her hope for things she had long stopped wishing for.

Last Minute Bride by Janet Dean

Elise Langley was stung to the quick when her would-be suitor suddenly left town. But when David Wellman returns and they are thrown together organizing their friends’ wedding, can she open her heart again?

Her Ideal Husband by Pamela Nissen

As a girl, Lydia Townsend hoped to marry Jebediah Gentry—until his rejection spoiled her dreams. When family duty brings her home, it’s Jeb’s chance to show Lydia that now is the time for her wedding dreams to come true.

Praise for Victoria Bylin

“The Bounty Hunter’s Bride is a sweet love story,

filled with hope, love, forgiveness and redemption. Victoria Bylin delivers on all levels.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Bounty Hunter’s Bride

“Wyoming Lawman is a tender,

charming love story filled with strong,

memorable characters. Don’t miss this talented author.”

—RT Book Reviews on Wyoming Lawman

Praise for Janet Dean

“Dean writes from her heart, and her characters

are deep and touching. This is a tender love story

with unconditional love for the reader.”

—RT Book Reviews on Courting the Doctor’s Daughter

“Janet Dean’s Courting Miss Adelaide

is a wonderfully sweet love story.”

—RT Book Reviews on Courting Miss Adelaide

Praise for Pamela Nissen

“Readers will adore the blossoming romance

between characters who demonstrate

their caring to everyone around them.”

—RT Book Reviews on Rocky Mountain Homecoming

“Nissen has written a beautiful love story with characters who are strong-minded, but refuse to

give up on their goals and who hold tight to their faith to help them through the tough times.”

—RT Book Reviews on Rocky Mountain Match

VICTORIA BYLIN

fell in love with God and her husband at the same time. It started with a ride on a big red motorcycle and a date to see a Star Trek movie. A recent graduate of UC Berkeley, Victoria had been seeking that elusive “something more” when Michael rode into her life. Neither knew it, but they were both reading the Bible.

Five months later, they got married and the blessings began. They have two sons and have lived in California and Virginia. Michael’s career allowed Victoria to be both a stay-at-home mom and a writer. She’s living a dream that started when she read her first book and thought “I want to tell stories.” For that gift, she will be forever grateful.

Feel free to drop Victoria an email at VictoriaBylin@aol.com or visit her website, www.victoriabylin.com.

JANET DEAN

grew up in a family that cherished the past and had a strong creative streak. Her father recounted wonderful stories, like his father before him. The tales they told instilled in Janet a love of history and the desire to write. She married her college sweetheart and taught first grade before leaving to rear two daughters. As her daughters grew, they watched Little House on the Prairie, reawakening Janet’s love of American history and the stories of strong men and women of faith who built this country. Janet eagerly turned to inspirational historical romance, and she loves spinning stories for the Love Inspired Books Love Inspired Historical line.

PAMELA NISSEN

loves creating. Whether it’s characters, cooking, scrapbooking or other artistic endeavors, she takes pleasure in putting things together for others to enjoy. Pamela lives in the woods in Iowa with her husband, daughter, two sons, a Newfoundland dog and cats. She loves watching her children pursue their dreams, and is known to yell on the sidelines at her boys’ games and being moved to tears as she watches her daughter perform. Having glimpsed the dark and light of life, she is passionate about writing “real” people with “real” issues and “real” responses.

Brides of the West
Josie’s Wedding Dress

Victoria Bylin

Last Minute Bride

Janet Dean

Her Ideal Husband

Pamela Nissen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Josie’s Wedding Dress

Victoria Bylin

For my daughters-in-law

Meredith Scheibel

and

Whitney Scheibel

Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.

—Colossians 3:12–14

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Rock Creek, Wyoming

May 1889

A moment with Josie Bright…that’s all Ty Donner wanted as he rode into Rock Creek, Wyoming. After five years in the Wyoming Territorial Prison, he didn’t deserve the privilege. He didn’t deserve to breathe Josie’s name, but he hoped she’d forgive him. He hadn’t meant to leave her waiting at the altar. They’d planned the wedding for months. But instead of saying “I do” to the woman he loved, Ty had spent his wedding day in jail.

Today he had business to conduct before he went to the Bright ranch, and it wouldn’t be easy. Keeping the gelding to a walk, he approached the church where he and Josie should have spoken their vows. What a fool he’d been… The day before the wedding, the Scudder gang stole six of his best horses. Josie pleaded with him to let the law handle it, but Ty and her brother went after the thieves. A gunfight erupted and he shot and killed Brant Scudder. Ty didn’t know it, but the gang had cut the horses loose. With no evidence of their crime, he’d been convicted of manslaughter and sent to prison.

As the white church came into view, he thought of the wedding that hadn’t taken place. Josie had poured her heart into making her wedding dress. It kept her busy while Ty built up his ranch. The Brights weren’t wealthy, but they had enough. Ty had wanted Josie to have enough. Too late he realized what enough meant to her. A wedding would have been enough. He would have been enough. Instead she’d sat dry-eyed through the trial. When it was over, she’d come to his jail cell and spoken words he’d never forget.

I want to forgive you, Ty. But I can’t. You love that ranch more than you love me. You love your horses more than anything.

With her eyes misty, she’d walked out of the jail. Ty wrote to her begging forgiveness, but she never replied. His only contact with Rock Creek had been monthly letters from Reverend Hall, the minister of the Rock Creek Church. Ty had opened his letters with trepidation, expecting to learn Josie had married. She hadn’t, but there had been other news. Her father died four years ago of a heart ailment. Two years ago her brother perished in a hotel fire, leaving Ty to wonder how the Bright women were managing. Josie’s mother had been nearly blind when he went to prison, and Josie had two young sisters with ambitions of their own. Knowing Josie, she was carrying the load for everyone.

After a year in prison, Ty stopped writing to her. With time, his feelings for her faded into memories and he’d realized something. Just as prison had changed him, sorrow had likely changed Josie. He needed her forgiveness, but he had no illusions of picking up where they’d left off. The love they once shared had most likely withered and blown away like tumbleweeds.

Ty climbed wearily off his horse, a nag he’d been given by the prison chaplain, and went to the iron gate marking the church cemetery. The last time he was here, there had been only three graves in the plot marked by a low stone wall. Now there were eight, including the resting place of Nathan Bright, Josie’s brother and Ty’s best friend.

The gate squeaked as Ty opened it, a reminder of the metal door of the cell he’d left a week ago. He didn’t have to hunt for Nate’s grave. The Bright family had bought a granite marker that stood a foot high. Behind it a rosebush held a dozen buds that would bloom in June. Ty took off his hat, approached the stone and hung his head.

“I’m sorry, friend…so sorry.”

With his eyes closed, he heard the echo of Nate telling him to let the Scudders go. Let the law handle it, Ty. You’re getting married tomorrow.

“I wish I’d listened,” he said to the stone.

He opened his eyes and relived that day. He and Josie had been having supper with her parents when his hired hand rode into the yard, shouting about the Scudders stealing his breeding stock. Ty had helped himself to a Winchester in the gun cabinet and turned to Josie. I’m getting my horses back.

Ty, don’t! You could get hurt.

She’d given him that bossy look he remembered. They’d once had that kind of fun…where she groused at him and he kissed her and they snuggled on the porch swing. That day had been different. He resented being bossed, and she’d been angry and worried that he wouldn’t make it back for the wedding. He’d ridden off on Smoke, the gray stallion that could outrun anything, and he and Nate had found the Scudders. The gunfight got crazy. When it was over, Ty had killed sixteen-year-old Brant, the youngest and most innocent of the thieves. Ty made it back to Josie, but he didn’t make it to the wedding. The town deputy, a man related to the Scudders, arrested him on his way to the church.

Ty stared at the stone marker. “I messed up, Nate. I don’t know how to make it up to her, but I’m going to try.”

It was all he could do, all he could say. With his chest tight, he bowed his head and prayed for blessings on the Brights.

The rattle of a rig reached his ears and he turned. He saw a piano buggy being pulled by a mule. The side of the hood hid his view of the driver, but he noticed a sky blue skirt flowing to the floorboard. Ty couldn’t stand the thought of seeing anyone from Rock Creek, especially not a gossipy woman. He considered hopping the stone wall, but he’d left his horse by the gate. He couldn’t leave without drawing attention, so he turned his back to the buggy and focused on Nate’s grave.

The buggy halted, then creaked as the female climbed down. With his neck bent, he listened to the squeak of the gate as she opened it. He tried to follow her movements, but the grass muted her steps. He listened for the rustle of her skirt but heard nothing. Frozen and alert, he thought of the years he’d waited in a prison cell. He’d learned to be patient. He could be patient now. He wouldn’t budge until the woman went on her way. He thought of the graves he’d seen. Was she visiting the small one that belonged to a child? A newer one with a name he didn’t recognize?

A roselike fragrance drifted on the air, becoming stronger as the woman approached. Josie liked fancy soaps. She also liked roses. A soft gasp confirmed his deepest fear. This woman knew him. This woman was Josie.

“Ty? Is that you?”

He turned enough to see the hem of her skirt. It took him back to the day before the wedding and her banter about “something borrowed, something blue.” She’d whispered in his ear about a blue garter, and he’d loved her more than ever. Now he looked up slowly, taking in the hard line of her mouth. Gone was the cheerful girl who’d teased him with mischievous smiles. In her place he saw a woman burdened by life. Her eyes were still turquoise and her chestnut hair gleamed under a straw bonnet, but she’d lost her sparkle.

Ty had come home for this very moment, yet he felt unprepared as he matched her gaze. Instead of the words he’d practiced, he stared into her eyes, feasting on the past until he found his tongue. “Hello, Josie,” he said in a drawl. “I’m hoping we can talk.”

* * *

Josie Bright had loved Ty Donner for most of her life. What she felt now, she didn’t know. He’d left her standing in the wedding dress she stitched with her own hands. She’d been devastated, then the anger had set in…and the bitterness. Over the years her father and brother had died, leaving the Bar JB in her hands. She also inherited responsibility for her two sisters. Anne, the middle sister taught school and sent money home. Scarlett, the youngest, lived with an aunt in Denver and wanted to go to college.

Josie took her responsibilities seriously. The Bar JB was named for her father, Jeremiah Bright, but she shared his initials and his love for their home. She hadn’t married because her family needed her. She’d also been hurt by Ty and had vowed to never be hurt again. The last two years had been particularly hard. She had a couple hired hands, but there was always too much work and not enough daylight. She’d long ago traded pretty dresses for dungarees.

Now even that sacrifice didn’t help meet the family’s needs. Winter had been brutal, and the Bar JB had lost ninety percent of its cattle. Josie had gone to the bank to beg for a loan to restock. Barring a loan, she needed mercy on an overdue mortgage. Not only had Lester Proffitt denied her request, he’d looked down his nose at her. I don’t do business with women, Miss Bright. Find a husband to take care of you. Have babies and be happy. His words stung in every possible way. Of course she wanted a husband. Yes, she wanted babies of her own, but her mother and sisters needed her. If she didn’t make the mortgage payment in thirty days, she and her mother would have to leave the only home Josie had known.

If Ty Donner hadn’t let his pride get in the way, they’d have been running the Bright ranch together. Instead they were standing at Nate’s grave, and Josie had the horrible sensation of her heart speeding up as she matched stares with the man who’d left her at the altar.

The years had been kind to Ty’s looks. He was dressed in dark trousers and a tan shirt, holding his hat and standing tall. He’d been lean, almost a string bean, when they became engaged. She’d been seventeen and he’d been twenty. Now he had broad shoulders and muscles shaped by physical labor. Some men in the Wyoming Territorial Prison made brooms. She guessed Ty wasn’t one of them. In addition to lean muscles, she saw creases around his blue eyes…eyes that still shimmered like sun-kissed water. Neither had his hair changed. She remembered it being brown in winter and lighter in summer. Today it was in-between, a mix of brown and gold, and it still curled over his collar.

With some difficulty, she found her voice. “This is a surprise.”

“I figure it is.”

“So it’s been five years…” She’d known this day would come. She just hadn’t expected today to be the day, nor had she imagined meeting Ty at Nate’s grave. She’d noticed the horse by the wall, an old gelding laden with his gear, but it hadn’t reminded her of Ty. The man she once loved had been the best judge of horseflesh in the county, maybe the state. The nag was a testament to how far he’d fallen. It also raised the question of where he was headed, or if he was staying in Rock Creek.

Her throat went dry. “What are your plans?”

“It depends.”

“On what?”

“On you.”

“Me?” She didn’t want Ty Donner thinking about her. She didn’t want him anywhere near the Bar JB. Just looking at him stirred up painful memories, especially in the shadow of the church where their wedding plans had gone to pieces. She wanted to calmly tell him to leave. She also wanted to shout and berate him. The confusion clogged her throat and threatened to turn into angry tears. She felt Ty’s gaze on her face, reading her as easily as he’d read her five years ago.

He indicated the buggy. “Let’s talk over there.”

It felt disrespectful to argue at Nate’s grave, so she let him guide her out the gate. As they approached, the mule chuffed. The Brights had come down in the world and it showed. Josie did her best with the ranch, but nothing had gone right since the death of her father and then Nate. Her sisters had problems of their own, and her mother’s vision was so clouded by cataracts she couldn’t read her Bible anymore. Josie read it to her, fighting every word because she’d lost her faith…fighting bitterness because she’d been so hurt. She hated being bitter. It tainted every breath she took, every thought she had.

Determined to put the ugliness aside, she faced Ty. He looked stronger than ever and bolder than she would have expected. Instead of cowing him, prison had made him tough. When he spoke, his eyes glinted with sincerity. “I was a fool to run after the Scudders. I’d like to think I did it for you—for us—that I was protecting our future, but the truth is plainer. I wanted my horses back, but mostly my pride got the best of me. Nothing else mattered in that moment. I’ve thought about that day for five years and what it cost—”

“Stop!”

“I’ve got to finish.”

“No!” She raised her chin. “Don’t say anything. It’s over.”

“I know that.”

“Just seeing you…” She closed her eyes, but it didn’t stop memories from filling her mind. Instead of seeing Ty, she saw the white dress in her wardrobe. She’d sewed every pearl button into place…all twenty-four of them. She’d worked the buttonholes for hours. Anger dried the threat of tears and she opened her eyes. “Go away, Ty. I’ve gotten on with my life. You should do the same.”

“I will. But not until I’m sure you’re all right. Nate was my best friend. I owe it to him. I owe it to you.”

She raised her chin. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I think I do,” he replied calmly. “This winter was tough for everyone. How are things at the ranch?”

“I’m managing just fine.”

His gaze slid to the mule and the buggy. Josie cringed, because Ty would see her poverty. The leather seat had a crack in it, and the mule lacked dignity. Next he looked at the dress she’d stitched when they’d been courting. She’d made it over a couple times, but he’d recognize it. Neither could she hide the faded color.

His jaw tensed. “You’re struggling, aren’t you?”

“Like I said, I’m fine.”

His gaze stayed on her face. “Things don’t look fine.”

Just like old times, she felt as if he could see to her toes. Knowing Ty, he wouldn’t back down until he got what he wanted, and today he wanted details. No way would she tell him the Bar JB had lost most of its cattle, and that Lester Proffitt refused her request for a loan. She had her pride, and she wanted Ty to leave.

But he wasn’t leaving. He’d put on his hat and was reaching for her hand. Before she could step back, he clasped her by the wrist, raised her forearm and loosened her deerskin glove a finger at a time. Stunned, she thought of the day he’d dropped to one knee and proposed marriage. She’d said yes and he’d slipped an engagement ring on her finger. Her hands used to be pretty. They weren’t pretty now. Why she didn’t stop him from removing the glove, she didn’t know. Maybe she wanted him to see her ruined hands, what he’d done to her by valuing his horses and his pride more than their vows.

He pulled the glove completely off, inspected her cracked nails and turned her hand palm up to show the calluses. She saw fire in his eyes and braced herself. Ty Donner wasn’t going to be leaving anytime soon, and she wasn’t as annoyed as she wanted to be. That softening had to be denied. He’d hurt her, and he could hurt her again. She thought of the white dress, the bouquet that had wilted, the humiliation of leaving the church alone and unwed.

She’d never forget that moment.

She’d never forgive him for what he’d done.

She simply couldn’t, because looking at him made her hurt all over again. With her feelings raw, she looked into his eyes.

He let go of her hand but didn’t release her from his gaze. “You need help, Josie. I’m staying until things are right.”

“I don’t want your help. Haven’t you hurt me enough? Please… Just go.” She waved her arm to indicate the open prairie.

Ty’s jaw tensed. “Why are you working like a hired hand?”

“It’s none of your concern.”

He rocked back on one heel and put his hands on his hips. “You’re wrong, Josie girl—”

“Don’t call me that!”

He ignored her. “I was wrong to chase after the Scudders, and you’re wrong to chase me off now.”

She didn’t know whether to cry for what she’d lost or slap his face for calling her Josie girl. She also yearned to accept his help. What would it be like to share the load of running the Bar JB? The grass rippled in a green wave, the sole benefit of the devastating winter. If only she could buy cattle…Ty knew everything about ranching. It was her needs he hadn’t understood. When it came to cattle and horses, he had a gift—especially with horses, fast horses that could run like the wind. An idea formed in Josie’s mind and wouldn’t let go.

A month from now Rock Creek would hold the annual Founders’ Day celebration. People would come from miles away for games and contests, baking competitions, and most important of all, the running of the May Day Maze. The ten-mile race tested a horse’s speed and endurance. It went through canyons and across streams, over hills and ended in a straight run through a long valley. The Maze required a skilled rider and a fast horse, and Josie had both. She had Ty, and she had Smoke, the mustang stallion Ty had owned and loved. When he’d gone to prison, the bank had repossessed his ranch. Nate had bought Smoke with the intention of giving Ty the horse when he got out.

Josie had no desire to welcome Ty into her life, but she very much wanted to win the May Day Maze. The grand prize was a thousand dollars. If he won the race on Smoke, they could split it. She could pay the mortgage and buy some cattle. But the risk… He had no place to live, which meant she’d have to offer him a spot in the bunkhouse with Obie Jones and Gordie Walker, her two hired hands. Ty would need meals and they’d cross paths a dozen times a day. The cost of asking him to ride in the race was high, but refusing his help might cost her the ranch.

Josie hadn’t answered him and he was still waiting. Standing taller, she made her voice all business. “I have an offer for you.”

“What is it?”

“I need someone to ride in the May Day Maze. Will you do it?”

Ty pulled his hat low, but not before she saw his eyes burn with longing. He took a breath, then another one. When he turned his gaze to the empty meadow, she knew he was remembering an old hope. He’d dreamed of winning the Maze his whole life, just as she’d dreamed of having a beautiful wedding. In their courting days, they’d often shared their hopes. It had been an exciting time. She felt that rush now and pushed it aside. This was business, she told herself. It had nothing to do with the dress hanging in the wardrobe or the veil she’d never worn. She wouldn’t notice the gleam in Ty’s blue eyes. She wouldn’t think of anything except saving her home…she simply wouldn’t.

“Say yes, Ty,” she urged. “I need your help.”

Chapter Two

Ty had dreamed of riding in the May Day Maze for years. Before the mess with the Scudders, he’d hoped to win and use the prize money to build a big house for Josie and the kids they’d have. He’d have entered the race in a heartbeat, but he was riding a twenty-year-old gelding he was grateful to own, and the mule pulling her buggy didn’t look any better.

“The best riders in Wyoming come for that race,” he said to her. “You know I want to ride in it, but on what?”

“I have Smoke.”

“Smoke?” Ty’s voice trailed to a whisper. He’d caught and gentled the mustang himself. No one else had ever ridden the crazy stallion, though a few men had tried. Josie or Nate must have bought the horse when the bank auctioned his possessions. He suddenly wanted to ride fast and free, without fences or prison bars to hold him back. He wanted that freedom almost as much as he wanted Josie’s forgiveness. He could take that ride, but Josie’s pardon would have to be earned. Riding in the Maze was a good start. Smoke would be five years older, maybe slower, but he was still a smart, rangy stallion.

A hush settled over the cemetery. The breeze died and the grass went still. Not even a bird chirped as Ty held her gaze. “I’ll ride for you, Josie.”

“We’ll split the prize.”

No, they wouldn’t. He’d give her every cent, but they could argue about it later. Afraid she’d change her mind, he tilted his head toward the gate and said, “Let’s go. I need to check out Smoke.”

She headed to the buggy without a word. Ty would have handed her up, even suggested tying his gelding to the back and doing the driving, but Josie lifted the reins before he could blink.

“You know the way.” She clicked her tongue at the mule, steered around the cemetery and headed for the Bar JB. Ty wanted a final word with Nate, so he walked back to the grave. Instead of taking off his hat, he pulled it lower. “This is it, friend. I’m going to make things right for Josie.”

The burden Ty carried didn’t ease completely, but a bit of weight lifted from his shoulders. If he could win the May Day Maze, he’d be a step closer to atoning for the worst mistake of his life. Blinking, he thought back to Reverend Gaines, the chaplain who visited the prison twice a week. Ty had been among the forty men who gathered in the dining hall for services. He’d never forget the reverend’s first sermon.

Jesus calls us to walk in His shoes. Do you have the courage to love the way He did? It’s the kind of love where you put your own hopes aside for the benefit of someone else.

That evening in jail, Ty had prayed with Reverend Gaines. He’d vowed to be a better man from that day forth, and he’d decided to start by making amends to Josie. The decision had come from the deep well of regret, though today he felt something along with the remorse. He couldn’t stop seeing her face in his mind, and his gut stirred with the feelings they’d shared as a couple. She’d changed, but she had the same fire he’d always loved. His reaction troubled him, because he had nothing to offer except riding Smoke in the Maze.

With the sun beating on his back, he spoke to Nate. “She’s prettier than ever, isn’t she?”

Nate didn’t answer, of course. But Ty knew what he’d have said. He’d have teased his friend about being sweet on his little sister. Nate had heckled him mercilessly, until Ty told him to shut up because he was going to marry Josie whether Nate liked it or not.

Nate had laughed. Ty could almost hear that sound now and he answered back, “I’ll do my best for her. You have my word.”

Determined and unafraid, he left the graveyard, climbed on the gelding and headed for the Bright ranch. With the buggy in the distance, he looked at the hills that hadn’t changed and the ruts that had. He felt more like a rut than a mountain today, but the mountains called to his blood. He was itching for wind and dust, speed, and the May Day Maze. As he took in the sky and the empty meadows, he thought of the Bible verse he’d scratched on the wall of his cell. The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it.

Feeling better than he had in years, he lagged behind Josie, enjoying the vast meadows and preparing himself for seeing familiar things. Mostly he recalled the porch swing where he’d proposed to her. Ty had spoken first to her father. A big man, Mr. Bright had shaken Ty’s hand and told him to take good care of Josie or else. The “or else” had been a fatherly jab, but Ty felt the burden in his bones. After supper he’d sat with her on the swing. More nervous than he’d ever been, he’d dropped to one knee and asked her to be his wife. She’d said yes and they’d kissed.

Five years in prison had done nothing to dull the memory of that moment.

Five minutes in her presence made it sharper than ever. It cut through the fog of time and the effort he’d made to forget her. If he wasn’t careful, he’d earn Josie’s forgiveness but lose his dignity by falling in love like a calf-eyed kid.

As the Bright ranch came into view, Ty lagged behind so he could take a good look at the old two-story house. The white siding stood out against the sky, and behind it grass stretched as far as he could see. He looked to the west and saw a barn the size of a cathedral. In its day, the Bar JB had been the most prosperous ranch in Rock Creek. Approaching now, Ty saw outbuildings in need of paint, missing shingles and a falling-down fence. He looked back at the house expecting to see a garden to the left of it. He couldn’t remember a spring when Mrs. Bright didn’t tend to her vegetables, but today he saw weeds.

There was no doubt about it. Josie needed help. Eager to get to work—and to see Smoke—he turned the gelding toward the barn. Rounding a curve in the path, he saw Josie going toe to toe with Obie Jones. Years ago Ty had hired the man and fired him a week later. Obie was the laziest, most conniving man Ty had ever met, and the fool had a cigarette dangling from his lips…a cigarette by a barn full of hay and livestock. Ty didn’t know the man behind Obie, but he recognized his type. Judging by the sneer on his face, he didn’t take kindly to a woman giving him orders.

Everyone in Rock Creek knew Obie’s reputation. Josie must have been desperate to hire him. Keeping a respectful distance, Ty climbed off the gelding and waited for her to finish her business.

The wait ended when Obie blew smoke in her face.

* * *

Josie hoped Ty wouldn’t interfere. She’d caught Obie smoking outside the barn…again. Lazy or not, Obie was the only man in Rock Creek who’d work for the pittance she could afford to pay. The other fellow, a drifter named Gordie, had less to offer than Obie. She’d hired them out of desperation. With the bitter winter, most of the local hands had drifted south. If Obie and Gordie quit, she’d be in trouble.

Obie looked past her to Ty and smirked. “Look what the wind blew in… .”

If Josie turned to look at Ty, she’d appear weak. She kept her eyes on Obie, but she heard the creak of Ty’s saddle as he swung off the gelding, then the scuff of his boots on the hard dirt. His shadow stretched to meet hers, and she heard the soft exhalation of his breath.

“Hello, Obie,” he said in a drawl.

Josie stole a glance at Ty’s profile. He had fire in his eyes, the kind that got him in trouble. If he chased off Obie, the trouble would be hers. She didn’t trust Ty to handle this situation, but she couldn’t deal with Ty and Obie and Gordie at the same time. Caught between two bad choices, she said nothing.

Obie aimed his stubbly chin at Gordie. “This here’s Ty Donner. He’s been locked away in that big prison in Laramie.”

Josie wanted to wipe the smirk off Obie’s face. The man had no right to gloat, though why she felt protective of Ty she didn’t want to know.

Next to her, Ty shrugged. “I’m out now.”

“I can see that,” Obie answered.

Ty indicated the man’s cigarette. “Mind if I bum a smoke?”

Obie hurled his tobacco pouch with too much force. Ty snagged it with one hand. Obie smirked. “Help yourself.”

“I’ll do that.” Ty sounded friendly, but instead of opening the pouch, he threw it as far as he could into a meadow full of tall grass. The blades waved, then went still.

Obie called Ty a foul name.

With his hands loose, Ty stepped up to the hired man, snatched the cigarette from his lips and ground it into the dirt. With his eyes narrowed, he glared at Obie. “If I ever catch you smoking by this barn again, you’re fired.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Josie didn’t know whether to cheer for Ty, be mad he’d presumed the power to fire anyone, or to smooth the waters with Obie. Lazy or not, she needed her hired hands. Ty was a hard worker, but he couldn’t do the work of three men. At the same time, she couldn’t let Obie control the situation. Like it or not, she had to trust Ty.

Obie spat on the ground. The brownish glob landed on the hem of her skirt. Gasping with disgust, she stepped back.

Ty grabbed Obie by the collar and lifted him to his toes. “A lady deserves respect. You owe Miss Bright an apology.”

Obie snorted.

Ty lifted him higher. “What does that mean?”

“Mizz Bright’s no lady.”

Josie blanked her face, but she felt the sting of Obie’s words. As the boss of the Bar JB, she’d learned to be tough. She drove hard bargains and wore trousers when she worked. She liked pretty things as much as any woman, but she’d traded lace for denim and hat pins for a Stetson. She’d also traded a wedding dress for a broken heart, and she had a ranch to run. For the sake of getting the work done, she could ignore Obie’s insults.

Ty, it seemed, had no such inclination. Using both hands, he hurled Obie against the barn. Obie hit with a thud but came back swinging. Ty ducked, then landed a roundhouse punch that sent Obie to the ground. Gordie cussed, then swung at Ty. The blow landed on Ty’s jaw and snapped back his head.

“Stop it!” Josie cried.

Obie lumbered to his feet. Fists flew and curses filled the air. Ty lost his hat and blood spilled from a cut on his jaw, but he didn’t seem to care. Josie knew better than to get in the middle of headstrong males, either bovine or human. Furious, she paced to the water trough on the side of the barn, filled a bucket and lugged it back around the corner. Gordie was on his knees and heaving, so she hurled it at Ty and Obie. As the water fanned from the bucket, Ty landed a blow to Obie’s chin. The hired hand stumbled backward, leaving Ty to take the brunt of the water.

“What the—” he stopped in midsentence and stared at her.

Josie’s cheeks flamed. Dousing Ty alone had been unfair. He’d started the fight, but he’d done it to defend her honor. Judging by the marks on his face, he was destined for a black eye, maybe two. Obie was sitting on the ground, wiping blood from his nose and glaring at her as she set down the empty bucket. He lumbered to his feet and spat a mouthful of blood. “I quit.”

“Me, too,” Gordie added.

Josie panicked. “But—”

Ty interrupted. “Get out of here. Now.”

“Mizz Bright owes us wages,” Obie complained.

A full month’s pay… She’d gone to the bank because she couldn’t meet the obligation without holding back on the bill at the mercantile. Would the juggling ever stop? She was getting ready to negotiate with Obie when Ty looked at her. “How much do you owe these fools?”

Josie knew his thinking. He intended to pay off Obie and Gordie for her. She didn’t want to owe him a favor. “This isn’t your problem.”

“How much?” he repeated.

Gordie answered for her. “We get twenty dollars a month each.”

Ty went to his horse and opened the saddlebag. He came back with a money pouch, removed a few bills and paid Gordie and Obie. Gordie took the money and stepped back. Obie snatched two sawbucks and glared at Ty. “You owe me for the smokes.”

“Sure.” Ty dug in the money pouch, removed some pennies and tossed them on the ground.

Obie looked at the money, spat again, then glared at Ty. “You’re gonna pay for this, Donner.”

“I expect so.”

“I mean it,” Obie insisted. “I’m going to get even with you.”

Obie glared at Ty, picked up the coins, then motioned for Gordie to follow him to the bunkhouse. With Ty shadowing them, the men packed their things and saddled their horses. Josie didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried. She needed help, but Obie and Gordie had given her nothing but grief. As the men led their mounts out of the barn, Ty came to stand at her side. When Obie and Gordie disappeared over a hill, Ty started to chuckle.

Josie wasn’t in the mood to laugh. “What on earth is so funny?”

In spite of the bruises and wet shirt, Ty looked pleased with himself. “I always did like a good fight.”

“That was good?”

“One of the best.” His expression turned serious. “Obie disrespected you, Josie. I won’t tolerate it.”

Five years ago, he’d disrespected her when he’d gone after the Scudders. Before he’d taken off, they’d quarreled and it hadn’t been a small argument. She’d begged him to consider her feelings, but he’d dismissed her worries and ridden off. He could apologize a hundred times, but nothing could erase the humiliation of standing in church in her wedding dress, waiting…and waiting…and waiting…until Nate delivered the news.

Josie snatched up the bucket. She wasn’t sorry she’d doused Ty after all. Thanks to the scuffle, she’d lost her hired hands and she owed Ty for their wages. The debt shamed her. “I’ll pay you back when I can.”

“Forget it.”

“I can’t.”

As she stepped toward the trough, Ty tugged the bucket away from her. “I’m going to need that.” He bent and picked up his hat, slapped off the dust and passed her on the way to the trough. Josie wanted to leave, but his cuts needed attention, maybe even a stitch or two. He’d earned them defending her, so she followed him. When he dipped the bucket in the water, she removed a hankie from her pocket and indicated the bench next to the barn.

“Sit,” she ordered.

He obeyed so suddenly she startled. The old Ty would have teased her. The new one had learned to take orders from prison guards. This subservient man wasn’t the Ty Donner who’d chased after the Scudders. The change shook her up, mostly because she didn’t like it. She should have been glad he’d lost his arrogance. Instead she ached for what he’d experienced behind bars.

She dipped her handkerchief in the water, cupped the back of his head and dabbed at the cut. His hair, warm from the sun, tickled her fingers. She couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering to his smooth jaw. He’d once grown a mustache. When she complained that it tickled, he’d shaved it off the next day. Was Ty remembering, too? Her eyes locked on to his. As if they’d never been apart, his gaze made her melt.

Fool!

To hide a blush, she rinsed the hankie in the bucket. She had no business thinking of his clean-shaven jaw. Not only did she need someone to ride in the May Day Maze, she needed someone to muck out stalls, fix fences, mend tools, check the few remaining cattle and paint the house before it turned to splinters. She finished cleaning the cuts, decided they didn’t need stitches, then said, “I hope you plan to work hard, because you just fired my only two hands.”

He shrugged. “They needed firing.”

“I still need help.”

“I can see that.” With a twinkle in his eye, he indicated his wet shirt. “Now that I’ve had a bath, I guess I’m hired.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You needed it.”

She used to enjoy sparring with Ty, and she supposed she still did. They had that way about them, where it sounded like they were bickering but they weren’t. It had been a game between them, but now they had business to conduct. “About wages…I’ll pay you what I paid Obie.”

“Forget it.”

Josie had her pride. “You can’t work for free. It’s just not right.”

“You’re paying me room and board.”

“But—”

“Please don’t argue.”

She barely heard him, a sign he remembered their sparring as sweetly as she did. If she quarreled with him now, they’d end up recalling other spats, the ones that ended in laughter and kisses. “All right,” she agreed. “Room and board it is.”

“Thank you, boss.”

The name annoyed her. Frowning, she emptied the bucket and set it down. Ty stood and pulled his hat low. It hid his eyes, but not the hard line of his jaw. Josie knew that look. He had something to say, but he wouldn’t say it. She felt the same way. Talk would lead to remembering, and remembering would lead to trouble. She had to get away from Ty. “Smoke’s in the north pasture. Go and say hello.”

“I will,” he answered. “But first I’ll tend to my horse and your mule.”

“I’ll do it.”

“No you won’t, boss. It’s my job now.”

“Don’t argue with me.” She couldn’t stand another minute of his sassy attitude. If he was going to call her boss, she’d act like one. “Go see Smoke. That’s an order.”

* * *

Ty couldn’t stand another minute in Josie’s presence. He could still feel her hankie against his skin, her fingertips dabbing at the cuts. The tenderness in her touch didn’t erase the fact he’d taken a beating, but it made the bruises worthwhile. It would take time to win her trust, but defending her honor against Obie’s insults had been a start.

Before he left, he had to square a few details. “I’ll sleep in the bunkhouse. What about meals?”

“I’ll bring your supper and the noon meal here. You can save some bacon and biscuits for breakfast.”

So he wouldn’t be sitting at the table with Josie and her mother the way he used to with Nate. “Anything else?”

She indicated the dilapidated barn. “You can see what needs to be done.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He could have been saying Yes, sir to a prison guard. It would take time to get used to being free.

Josie gave him a peculiar look, then went to put up the animals. Ty headed for the pasture. The path took him past the spot where Gordie had upchucked. He kicked dirt on the mess to save Josie the sight of it, then he rounded the corner of the barn. Flexing his knuckles, he felt the sting of broken flesh. Obie had earned his punishment, but Ty regretted making an enemy. He regretted a lot of things. Some of those regrets were best forgotten, but others could be fixed. He couldn’t make up for ruining Josie’s wedding day, but he could win the race for her.

As he neared the pasture, he searched the perimeter for Smoke. He hoped the horse remembered him. It had taken weeks to earn the stallion’s respect, and he didn’t have time to start over. The Maze was less than a month away.

At the fence he propped a boot on the bottom rail and crossed his arms over the top one. In the far corner he spotted Smoke. The stallion’s coat had darkened, but he still had a silvery sheen that stood out against the sky and grass. If the mustang had the same fire inside, he could outrun any horse in Wyoming. Ty put two fingers in his mouth and whistled the signal he’d taught Smoke when he’d caught him as a yearling. The stallion raised his head, looked in his direction and froze. The first blast had wobbled a bit. Ty tried again. This time the notes were high and sharp.

Smoke broke into a run. Ty hopped the fence. The next thing he knew the horse was nosing his chest in search of carrots. With his heart brimming, Ty wrapped his arms around Smoke’s neck and gave thanks. He’d felt his kind of joy just once before. The day he walked out of prison, he’d felt both free and burdened by his bad choices. He’d wanted to be baptized, so he and Reverend Gaines walked fully clothed into the Cayenne River. The reverend said a prayer, then he bent Ty back and held him tight so he wouldn’t fall. Water rushed up his nose and he’d come up sputtering and full of joy.

He felt that joy now…a good measure, pressed down like grapes giving their juice. It tasted sweeter than honey. In this precious moment, he prayed for Josie, that he could be her friend and save her home. He prayed she’d forgive him. Another prayer formed in his mind, but he didn’t dare give voice to it. He had no right to think about loving her again, and if the truth be told, she’d hurt him, too. Not a single letter… Not even an angry one.

Smoke nosed him again. The force pushed Ty into the railing, and he thought of prison bars. Who said horses didn’t understand jail? Smoke wanted to be free…so did Ty. He wanted to go far and fast until he lost himself in a cloud of dust. He didn’t need a saddle to ride Smoke, so he swung onto the horse’s back. They circled the pasture once and came back to the gate. Ty reached down, unlatched it and Smoke broke into a gallop.

Breathing in perfect rhythm with his horse, Ty felt strong and free. With God’s help, he’d win the race for Josie. He’d give her back the life she’d lost. Maybe then he could make a new life for himself.

Chapter Three

Josie walked into the house, closed the door and leaned against it. She needed to clear her head before she spoke to her mother, but the older woman was coming down the hall in measured steps. Winnie Bright had no trouble navigating her home of twenty-five years. She’d lost the ability to read and see distant mountains, but she could detect patterns of light. She described her vision as looking through fogged glass. She couldn’t identify faces, but she had sharp hearing and remarkable intuition.

“Josie, is that you?”

“It’s me, Mama.”

The older woman emerged from the hall into the front room. Red gingham curtains were tied back, giving the sun full access to the parlor. The rays caught the silver in her mother’s braided coronet, a sharp contrast to the auburn that matched Josie’s own hair. The women would have been the same height, but Mama had shrunk with age and had stooped shoulders. Her posture worried Josie, mostly because she knew her mother’s back hurt all the time.

The older woman walked to her rocking chair and sat. “What happened with Mr. Proffitt?”

“He said no, but it might not matter.”

“Why not?”

“I have a new plan.” Josie sat on the divan. This was her place, where she sewed and fretted. “I found someone to ride in the May Day Maze… Someone who can ride Smoke.”

Mama tilted her head. “That horse belonged to Ty Donner.”

“That’s right.”

“Are you telling me—”

“He’s back.” In a brusque tone, Josie told her mother about Mr. Proffitt denying them a loan, meeting Ty and the decision to ask him to ride in the race. She ended the story with the description of the fight with Obie and Gordie. “I’m stuck with him now,” she said, sounding disgusted. “I hope he can do the work of three men.”

“Working hard was never Ty’s weakness,” Mama replied. “As I recall, the boy worked too hard.”

“He’s not a boy anymore.” Josie tried to sound disinterested, but she’d noticed Ty’s new maturity, both physical and otherwise. She couldn’t help but mourn the marriage and children she’d been denied. Biting her lip, she recalled going with Ty on a picnic and how they talked about the future. She told him that she wanted to give him a son, and he’d kissed her.

I’d like that, Josie girl. But I want a daughter, too.

She’d been surprised. Really?

She’ll grow up to be like you, and I’ll be scaring off boys like me… Someday she’ll wear your wedding dress.

The dress…Josie wished she’d sold it. Instead she’d wrapped it in muslin and shoved it to the back of the top shelf of her wardrobe. She couldn’t think about the gown without feeling bitter, but neither had she been able to part with it. The ruined wedding had been a fulcrum in her life, the tipping point where hope turned to loss and her faith dissolved along with it. If she got rid of the dress, would she heal or would she stay bitter forever? She didn’t know.

Mama put her rocking chair in motion. “Prison changes a person. I imagine Ty’s done some maturing.”

“I suppose.”

The bowed wood creaked against the floor. “Even so, it has to hurt to see him.”

How did her mother do that? Even without clear vision, she saw past Josie’s nonchalance to the pulp of her heart. Josie had been angry with Ty for chasing after the Scudders, but mostly she felt unloved. Just one day for a wedding…that was all she had asked. But it had been too much. Ty set aside her needs for his own, and they’d both lost everything.

Josie stood and went to the window. A line of trees marked the creek where she and Ty had stolen kisses. Her fingers knotted on the wide sill. “I wish he’d never come back.”

Mama kept rocking. “You have to forgive him.”

“I can’t.”

“Forgiveness is a choice, Josie. No matter what you’re feeling, you can say the words and ask God to make them true.”

“It would be a lie.”

“Or a start,” Mama countered. “Sometimes the feeling comes after the talking.”

“Why should I even try?” She sounded childish, but she didn’t care. “He left me waiting at the church. It was humiliating!”

“None of us is perfect. We’ve all made mistakes, but God loves us anyway. Ty paid dearly for what he did.”

“So have I.”

Mama let out a sigh. “Where is he now?”

“With Smoke.”

“I hope you invited him to supper.”

“I’ll bring a plate to the barn. I don’t want him in the house.”

The older woman raised her brows. “Perhaps I do. He was Nate’s friend, Josie. He was like a son to me. I’ve missed him.”

If the three of them ate supper together, Josie would remember the day he went after the Scudders. She’d watch him put too much salt on his food, and she’d know that he cut his meat into tiny bites, a habit from growing up poor and wanting to make the food last. She couldn’t bear the thought of being with him, so she shook her head. “I can’t do it, Mama. I’ll bring him a plate, but that’s it.”

“I won’t argue, Josie. But I hope you’ll think about it.”

“There’s nothing to think about.” But there was…she could think about the dress, the embarrassment and the life she should have had. If she thought about anything else—Ty fighting for her honor, his determination to win the Maze—she’d be on the verge of caring for him again. She had too many worries to let old feelings rise to the surface. She couldn’t let anything interfere with saving the Bar JB.

She took a final glance at the trees, then stepped away from the window. “I’ll start supper.” She went to the kitchen, but she didn’t go alone. She felt her mother’s prayers following her, whispering the words she couldn’t abide… Forgive him.

* * *

Ty couldn’t stay in the bunkhouse without speaking to Mrs. Bright. She’d been like a mother to him, and he’d hurt her when he’d let down Josie. He needed to apologize to her, and he wanted to offer his condolences for Nate’s passing. Josie didn’t want to see him, but he had to return the basket she’d used to deliver his meal. When he finished eating, he cleaned the plates and utensils, put them in the basket and walked to the house. Instead of going through the back door as he would have done five years ago, he went to the front door and knocked.

“Who is it, please?” Mrs. Bright called.

Ty cracked open the door. “Mrs. Bright? It’s me, Ty Donner.”

“Ty! Come in!”

He set the basket by the door and walked into the parlor. Mrs. Bright was on her feet and holding her arms wide. “Get over here, young man! I want to hug you.”

For one stupid moment, he was twelve years old again, even younger, and he was following Nate into the house like he belonged. With four kids in the Bright family—Nate and the three girls—Ty had been a welcome ally to the Bright males. He’d also been Josie’s particular nemesis in games of tag and other family fun. That had changed at a church dance. He’d seen her in a rose-colored dress with her hair half up and half down, and he’d forgotten all about tag. He’d asked her to dance, and a year later he’d proposed on the porch he’d just crossed. A year after that, he’d broken her heart.

Ty had expected Mrs. Bright to be polite but distant. Instead she had tears in her eyes. A bit choked up himself, he hugged her hard, then stepped back. “I’m sorry about Mr. Bright and Nate.”

“Of course, you are.”

“And I’m sorry about what happened with Josie. I’d do anything to change that day.”

“I know you would.”

As she sat in the rocker, Ty dropped down on the divan. Judging by a nearby sewing basket, Josie still favored the spot by the window. It was here that she sewed the buttons on her wedding dress. He’d never seen it, but she’d described the pearls to him. Back then he’d felt both proud and desperate to provide for her. He felt the same way now, though the pride felt lonely and provision depended on Smoke and winning the Maze.

Mrs. Bright started to rock. “Josie’s taking a walk. She does that after supper, but she’ll be back soon.”

Ty remembered her walks. He used to go with her. “I brought back the supper dishes, but mostly I wanted to see you. Josie told me about your money woes. I’m sorry you’re struggling.”

“We had a hard winter.”

“The worst.” Ty had experienced it in prison, hemmed in by both walls and snow. “I want to help you by winning the Maze. Whatever Smoke and I win, it all goes to you and Josie.”

“Did she agree to that?”

“Not exactly.” He thought of sparring with her and smiled. “She thinks we’re splitting it, but I intend to give her everything.”

Her brow furrowed. “You don’t need to do that, Ty.”

“Yes, I do.”

She reached across the space between them. He saw her intention and gripped her hand. “I forgive you,” she said. “So does God.”

“Josie hasn’t. I ruined her life.”

“Hogwash!” She released his fingers and pushed off in the rocker with surprising force. “You didn’t ruin Josie’s life anymore than being blind ruined mine. Bad things happen. We carry on or we quit. Josie’s not a quitter, but she’s had trouble getting over the heartache, maybe because we’ve had so much of it. We lost you first, then Jeremiah and Nate…sometimes it’s just too much.”

“I understand.” He’d felt that way in prison.

“You came at the right time, Ty. If anyone can win the Maze, it’s you riding Smoke.”

“I hope so.” For Josie’s sake he had to win, but today’s ride had opened his eyes to a harsh fact. Five years was a long time. Ty was older, stronger and wiser. Smoke was older and slower. It would take some effort to get ready for the race, something he would have to do in between chores.

He could have sat with Mrs. Bright for another hour, but he didn’t want to irritate Josie so he stood. “I should be going.”

“You’re welcome to Nate’s room,” Mrs. Bright offered.

Nate had slept in a room on the first floor. Josie and her sisters had occupied the second floor, a space Ty hadn’t seen except a few days before the wedding when he’d lugged her cedar chest down the stairs and into his wagon. The chest had belonged to her maternal grandmother, who’d hauled it all the way from St. Louis. It had been stuffed with bed linens and things for her kitchen…things Ty had never seen. When he’d been convicted, Nate had hauled the chest back to the Bright ranch. Ty could only imagine what Josie experienced when she’d opened it.

All of a sudden, he felt caged. “I appreciate the offer, Mrs. Bright. But I’d rather stay in the bunkhouse.”

“Whatever you’d like, but come and see me again.” Her eyes looked glassier than usual. “An old woman gets lonely, you know.”

“I know. But I don’t want to step on Josie’s toes.”

“It’s my home, too. You’re invited for supper any time.”

“Thank you.” Ty bent and kissed her cheek. “Good night, Mrs. Bright.”

“Good night, Ty.”

He left through the front door, closed it and glanced at the porch swing. Instead of the vacant spot he expected, he saw Josie and froze. In the grayish light, her auburn hair stood out like a flame. Her skin had the luster of pearls, and her turquoise eyes matched the twilight sky. He couldn’t stop looking at her…all those years in prison, he’d tried to forget her. He thought he’d succeeded, but looking at her now, he knew the truth. This woman owned his heart lock, stock and barrel. He’d never stopped loving her and he never would.

To keep from hurting, he focused on the most ordinary of things. “Thanks for supper. You always were a good cook.”

“I enjoy it, even if it’s just for Mama.”

She sounded lonely in the mournful way of the wind. Ty knew that sound well. In prison he’d stand in the yard behind the fifteen-foot walls, not feeling the wind but hearing the hollow sound of it. No one could understand unless they’d stood in that spot. He understood Josie because they’d both sat on that swing. They’d both grieved for what might have been, but she didn’t want that kinship. Unable to help her, he walked away.

“Ty?”

He faced her. “Yes?”

“Can you really win the Maze?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all anyone can ask.”

He waited, hoping she’d say something else, but she turned her head and stared at the pinkish horizon. There was no romance in the sunset, no hope in the fading light, so he murmured, “Good night, Josie,” and walked alone to the bunkhouse.

He wouldn’t be sleeping behind bars tonight, but in a way he’d entered a prison of another kind, one that could only be unlocked by Josie’s forgiveness. Whether she knew it or not, she was trapped behind the same wall. The sweet girl he’d loved had turned into a hard woman. It troubled him greatly.

“Help her, Lord,” Ty said out loud. “Help us both.”

* * *

Josie stayed on the swing, watching Ty’s long stride as he walked away from the house. When she’d asked him about winning the race, she’d expected bravado and bragging. The old Ty would have been full of talk. The new one had a humility that confused her. She couldn’t trust boastfulness, but she admired honesty. As he neared the barn, he faded from her sight, changing from a man to a shadow and then to a memory. One memory led to another, until she recalled waiting for him at the church. When Nate delivered the news of the arrest, her mother had comforted her. Anne, the middle sister and Josie’s maid of honor, had explained to the guests. Scarlett, a junior bridesmaid, had looked stricken.

The next day Josie had visited Ty in jail. He’d insisted the trial would blow over. He’d shown no respect for how hurt she’d been, how the delay tainted what should have been a beautiful day. Two weeks later she’d watched guards load him into the black prison wagon. He’d stared at her through the bars, apologizing with his eyes and mouthing, “I love you, Josie. I’m so sorry… .”

She’d said nothing back. In that moment, her bitterness had taken root. It lived in her heart the way the dress stayed in her wardrobe—wrapped tight, sealed, unchanging. She didn’t want to be resentful, but she didn’t know how to stop the ugly feelings. Her mother had encouraged her to trust God through the sadness, but Josie didn’t have the will. She went to church because someone had to take her mother, but she didn’t listen to the sermons. Neither did she pray, though tonight she recalled the girl who’d loved God and Ty Donner with her whole heart.

Her throat ached with unspoken words…angry words that burst out with unexpected force. “God? Are You listening? I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t want to hate my life, and I don’t want to lose the ranch. Mama says I have to forgive Ty, but I can’t. It’s just too hard. He hurt me! He ruined everything! Why did You let it happen? Why?” With her eyes squeezed tight, she choked out, “Amen.”

The prayer brought no relief, no peace. She looked accusingly at the stars, then down to the bunkhouse. A light flared in a window, a sign Ty had arrived and lit a lamp. She thought of his honesty concerning the race, the way he took orders without quarreling. He’d changed. Josie wanted to change too, but mostly she wanted to rake him over hot coals. But she wouldn’t. She’d stay behind her wall of indifference where he couldn’t possibly hurt her.

Chapter Four

“I’m not feeling well,” Mrs. Bright said to her daughter. “You and Ty go to church without me.”

Ty had just knocked on the door and was waiting for the women on the porch. He hadn’t expected to be going to Sunday services, but last night Mrs. Bright asked him to do the driving. The three of them had been having supper, another invitation from Mrs. Bright, when she’d asked the favor.

He didn’t want to step on Josie’s toes, so he’d looked at her for permission. She shrugged and said he could do whatever he liked. He liked going to church, so he’d accepted the invitation with a politeness that matched Josie’s. He’d been at the ranch for two weeks now, and they hadn’t exchanged a single sharp word. The place no longer looked neglected and Smoke had regained his fitness, but Ty was no closer to winning Josie’s forgiveness. If Mrs. Bright stayed home, the ride to town would be colder than January.

He might have backed out of the trip, but he had another reason for going to town. Wayne Cooper, an old friend and the owner of the livery stable, ran the May Day Maze. Ty needed to sign up for the race, and he wanted to hear about the competition. First, though, he had to get to town. He’d always been punctual, but prison had honed that tendency into nervousness. Being late to church made him uneasy, so he knocked again on the doorjamb. “Josie? Mrs. Bright? It’s getting late.”

Mrs. Bright called to him. “Josie’s on her way.”

Ty heard whispering, stepped back to the carriage and waited until Josie came out of the house alone. Her green dress made him wish he’d dressed up a little more. So did her prim hat and white gloves. When he offered to hand her into the carriage, she accepted as if he were a footman. He climbed up next to her and took the reins with Josie glaring at the road. “This wasn’t my idea,” she grumbled.

Hoping to ease the mood, he kept his voice light. “Mine neither, but I can’t say I mind.”

“I do.”

“It’s a pretty day.”

“It’s too warm.”

She’d disagree with whatever he said, so he said nothing. After a mile, he glanced at her profile. Her gaze had the stonelike quality he’d seen in the eyes of inmates with the longest sentences and the least amount of hope. He’d kept his distance from Josie out of respect, but now he wondered if he’d made a mistake. All that anger was simmering. A good stew got better with a time on the fire, but coffee burned and turned bitter.

Josie needed to empty her coffeepot, so to speak. If she couldn’t do it herself, Ty would do it for her. The worst thing about prison for Ty had been the helplessness. That’s why the Sunday services in the dining hall had appealed to him. His renewed faith had given him a sense of purpose. Josie had the ranch to fight for, but he had the feeling she really wanted to fight with him. If she needed a sparring partner, he’d be glad to oblige. He’d been a cocky kid. He could be an equally cocky man. “Give it up, Josie. If you want to yell at me, just do it.”

“Who says I want to yell?”

“I do.”

“Drop it, Ty. You don’t know me anymore.”

But he did… If there was one thing that got Josie fired up, it was women’s rights. He agreed—women were as capable as men—but he didn’t mind using politics to rile her. “Come on, Josie. Admit it. Running the ranch is too much for you.”

Her gaze slid in his direction. “Considering the winter, I’ve done just fine.”

“I guess. But it’s a big job for a woman.”

“It’s a big job for anyone.”

“But especially a woman,” he insisted. “Especially a single woman.”

Josie’s jaw tensed. “I’ll have you know, a single woman can manage as well as a man.”

“Maybe, but it’s not a woman’s place. Women are better suited to cooking and darning socks…picking flowers…reading silly poetry. They like stuff that doesn’t take a lot of thought.”

Josie glared at him. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“You’re trying to make me mad.”

“Is it working?”

“Hardly.”

“Why not give it a try?”

“Because I don’t want to.” She turned her gaze back to the road, a sign she was finished with the conversation.

He’d have preferred a tongue lashing to her silence, but silence was what she gave him. It lasted all the way to the church, until he halted the mule in front of the steps leading to the wide porch. He came around the carriage and offered his hand.

She took it as if he were a distant cousin. “You’re welcome to join me, of course. I sit in the third row.”

“I remember.” The Bright family had occupied the third row as long as Ty had known them.

Josie turned and went up the three steps. Ty drove the carriage to the field where families left their rigs, then he walked back to the church and slipped inside. He saw Josie’s green hat and a space next to her, but he didn’t want to draw attention. Instead he slid into the back pew.

When the organist struck the opening chords of “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God,” Ty stood with the congregation. He’d sung the hymn in prison and liked it, but today it sounded all wrong. The voices should have been deep and male. Instead he heard the birdsong of Josie’s soprano and he remembered… The last time they’d been in this church had been the Wednesday before the wedding. Reverend Hall had told them what to expect during the ceremony, then he’d counseled them in God’s plan for marriage. He’d talked about wives respecting their husbands and husbands loving their wives. He’d also told Ty to put his dirty socks in the laundry and to bring his wife a gift now and then. He’d told Josie to laugh at Ty’s jokes, even the silly ones, and to appreciate his hard work.

Last, he’d said words Ty would never forget.

Don’t let the sun go down on your anger.

Josie had been angry with him for five years. All that time, her bitterness had been festering. If she’d smiled in the past two weeks, he couldn’t remember it. Bitterness did that to a person. Ty knew, because he’d felt its grip in prison. He’d been wrong to go after the Scudders, but the judge and jury had been harsh. Not until he’d forgiven everyone—the jury, himself, even God—had he found peace.

Josie needed that same surrender. With the hymn filling the church, Ty bowed his head and prayed. Please help her, Lord. She needs to forgive me as much as I need to be forgiven.

The ponderous hymn droned to a close. Ty usually appreciated the gravity of it, but today he felt burdened. The church felt too crowded, too full of goodness and hope, so he slipped out the door before the congregation sang the final “amen.” He couldn’t do anything for Josie except win the race, so he headed to the livery to see Wayne. Hungry for silence, he walked the long way instead of cutting through town. When he arrived at the livery barn, he felt steadier.

Wayne saw him first. “What can I do for you, sir?”

“Sir?” Ty laughed. “It’s me—”

“Ty Donner!” Wayne crossed the barn, shook Ty’s hand and clapped him on the back. The livery owner was as strong as ever, though his hair had signs of gray. “When’d you get out?”

“A few weeks ago.”

“It’s about time.” Wayne shook his head. “You paid a terrible price for shooting a horse thief. Do you need a place to stay? How about a job? How long are you staying, anyhow?”

Ty grinned. “You always did ask a lot of questions.”

“So answer ’em.”

“I’m working for the Brights, and I’m staying as long as it takes to help Josie get on her feet.”

Wayne’s expression sobered. “The Bright women have had a hard time, first Jeremiah and then Nate. Josie’s working herself to the bone.”

“That’s going to change,” Ty answered. “I’m working for them now. If I can win the Maze, Josie can restock and hire decent help.”

Wayne raised his brows. “The Maze, huh? What are you riding?”

“Smoke.”

“Well, how do you do!” the man exclaimed. “It’s going to be a glory of a horse race.”

“Where do I sign up?” Ty asked.

“Follow me.”

Wayne led him to the back room he used for an office, opened a ledger and wrote Ty’s name and the date. The race didn’t require an entry fee, which meant there would be a wide range of horses and riders. Ty craned his neck to see the list of names, but Wayne’s printing looked like chicken scratches. He gave up and asked, “Who all is riding?”

Wayne went down the list, describing every horse and rider. Ty recognized most of them, but two stood out. Grant Harper, an Englishman, bred Arabians in addition to running cattle. He’d be riding to win, and he had horses that could do it. The second name made Ty see red. Obie Jones had tossed his hat into the ring, but he hadn’t listed a horse.

“What’s Obie riding?” Ty asked.

“He said he was still sorting that out.”

The more information Ty had, the more prepared he’d be if Obie caused trouble. “Where’s he living these days?”

“Dyer’s Boardinghouse.”

Ty’s nose wrinkled. “Is it as bad I remember?”

“Worse.”

The Dyers were known for bad food, dirt and fleas. Ty would have been stuck there if he hadn’t hired on with Josie.

Wayne crossed his arms. “I hear you ran Obie off the Bright place.”

“That’s right.”

“I’m glad you did.” Wayne got a faraway look. “Winnie and I go way back. If Jeremiah hadn’t come back from the war, I’d have swept her off her feet.”

Ty knew the feeling. He’d do anything for Josie…anything at all. “If you hear talk about Obie, let me know.”

“Will do.” Wayne indicated a pot on a round stove. “Got coffee if you want it.”

“No, thanks.”

The men shook hands and Ty left the barn. He wanted to be back for the closing hymn, so he cut through town. The route took him past the Dyer place and he thought of Obie. The fool could make all the threats he wanted, but Ty intended to win the Maze.

As the church came into view, Ty walked faster. The service hadn’t let out, so he slipped through the door and into the back pew. He looked for Josie, but instead of her green hat, he saw an empty seat. It wasn’t like Josie to leave in the middle of a sermon. Worried, he went to look for her.

* * *

The coughing fit that drove Josie from church hadn’t been faked. She’d gotten a tickle in her throat the minute Reverend Hall read today’s scripture. Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath… She tried not to listen, but the minister had looked right at her from the start of his sermon.

We forgive because we’ve been forgiven.

He’d jumped all over the scriptures, and every word had hit like an arrow, especially the last one he’d quoted.

Let him whose slate is clean cast the first stone.

That’s when she started to cough. It was either cough or cry, and so she’d coughed enough to justify leaving and gone to the carriage. That’s where she was now…blissfully alone and angry enough to spit nails. The frustration had started when her mother forced her to ride alone with Ty. It increased when he tried to make her mad. She had gotten mad, but she didn’t want to show it. If her anger drained away, she’d be left with the hurt. She couldn’t stand the thought, but neither could she stand being angry. Determined to be done with it, she confessed to the sky. “I want to strangle Ty Donner!”

A male laugh—deep and satisfied—came from ten feet behind her. She’d know Ty’s voice anywhere, anytime. Furious, she faced him. “What’s so funny?”

“Us.”

“I’m not laughing.”

His eyes twinkled even brighter. “So yell instead. It’ll feel good.”

“No.” She hesitated. “Where have you been?”

“Signing up for the Maze.” He picked up a rock and offered it to her. “Want to throw it? You can pretend you’re aiming at me.”

“I don’t care about the rock.” But she did. She wanted to throw the rock as hard as she could, and Ty knew it. He knew her better than anyone, a truth that put a lump in her throat.

He touched her shoulder. “Josie—”

“Don’t touch me!”

When he lowered his hand, she started to cry. The gesture showed that he understood…and he cared. She saw the blue eyes that made her shiver, the jaw that jutted when he was being stubborn, but she didn’t see the man who left her to chase a bunch of horse thieves. She saw someone else…someone who’d learned to listen. She thought of all the nights the sun had gone down on her anger. Then she thought of the wedding dress and made a decision. Today she’d take the dress out of the wardrobe. She’d forgive Ty for hurting her, or she’d get rid of the dress that embodied her lost dreams.

Ty offered her a bandanna. She wiped her eyes, then said, “I want to go home.”

“Sure.”

He helped her into the carriage and off they rode. Josie remained silent, but her thoughts ran in circles. What would happen when she saw the dress? Would she hate Ty even more, or would she find peace? She didn’t know, but she resolved to find out. Today she’d examine her heart and maybe she’d know what to do.

The spring sun warmed her face as they bounced down the rut-filled road. She stole glances at Ty, noticing how the cuts from the fight with Obie had healed, but mostly she stared at the winding road. On occasion she sensed his gaze on her cheek. The carriage wheels usually squeaked, but today they rolled in silence. Ty must have greased them, a chore she’d ignored. She wanted to ignore him, but she couldn’t stop looking at his hands holding on to the reins, or his boots on the floorboard, slightly apart and worn from work. The silence thickened until they reached the front of the house. The instant he stopped the rig, she climbed down from the seat. Her petticoat caught on something sharp, tore but didn’t come loose. The tears she’d stifled threatened to break loose.

“Hold on,” Ty ordered. “Let me help.”

“I can do it.” She tugged on the petticoat, but it was caught on a spring. The harder she pulled, the more tightly it wedged.

Ty came to her side of the carriage, reached over the wheel and freed the cloth. Intending to politely thank him, she looked into his eyes. The courteous words melted on her tongue. Instead she finally yelled at him. “I can’t stand it! Why did you come back? Why do you do this to me!”

“I don’t mean to do anything.” He took her gloved hand in his. “I care about you, Josie. I always have—”

“Don’t say that!”

His fingers stroked hers. “This hardness between us has to stop, and it has to stop today. Check on your mom and then come to the barn.”

“Why?”

“You and I need to take a ride.”

“Where to?”

“Boulder Gorge…the place where I shot Brant Scudder. I want to forget it, but I can’t.”

Josie knew about memories that refused to be laid aside. She looked into Ty’s eyes, saw a plea and thought of the wedding dress. She’d intended to open the wardrobe immediately, but Ty deserved to be heard. “All right,” she said. “I’ll meet you at the barn.”

He climbed back into the carriage and snapped the reins. Sighing, she went into the house, told her mother she and Ty were taking a ride, then retreated to her room where she opened the wardrobe. Instead of retrieving her split skirt, she stared for a moment at the muslin package holding her wedding dress. She didn’t know which frightened her more—reliving old memories or making new ones on today’s ride. The dress could wait. The ride couldn’t, so she put on her riding clothes and went to meet Ty.

Chapter Five

After leaving Josie at the house, Ty went to the barn to saddle Smoke and a brown mare named Maggie. Josie had always liked that name… She’d mentioned it when they’d talked about naming their children. Their first son would have been named after her father; the second would have been Ty Junior. If he hadn’t gone after the Scudders, by now they’d have had two babies, maybe three. They would have—

“Stop it,” he muttered to himself.

He lifted a saddle onto Maggie’s back, scowling as he worked. He had no time for self-pity. Today he had just one wish. He wanted to talk to Josie…really talk…about that awful day. With its ugly memories, Boulder Gorge struck him as a fitting spot to clear the air. God had forgiven Ty’s sins and he knew it. Josie was still holding a grudge, and he hoped today he could convince her to let it go.

He finished with Maggie, then saddled Smoke. As he led the horses out of the barn, he saw Josie walking up the path in a split skirt and a wide brimmed hat. Even if she called him awful names, it would be preferable to the cold civility he saw on her face now. Even better would be her forgiveness.

She came up to Maggie and scratched the horse’s ears. “I’m ready.”

Ty helped her mount, then climbed on Smoke. He led the way to the trail to the gorge, commenting on the grass and water conditions to pass the time. The conversation took them all the way to the edge of a ravine that zigzagged for miles. From a distance, it looked like a knife wound. Ty reined Smoke to a stop and climbed off.

“This is it,” he said to Josie.

She slid off Maggie and handed him the reins. He tied both horses to a bush blooming with Indian paintbrush, propped his hands on his hips and stared at the slash in the ground. “This is where I killed Brant Scudder.”

“Nate told me about it.”

“I’ve thought about this place every day, but it’s the first time I’ve come back since I got out. It looks the same…feels the same.”

“Some memories are burned into us. We change, but they don’t.”

“That’s a fact.” He looked at the bottom of the gorge. Today a streambed held a trickle of water, but five years ago it had been all sand and rock. Looking west, he pointed down the ravine. “Do you see those boulders?”

“I do.”

“I was standing right here.” He drew an X in the dirt with his toe. “The Scudders were riding straight at us. Nate yelled something and one of them fired. I hit the dirt and fired back. Everything went crazy after that.”

“Nate said the shooting lasted five minutes.”

“I don’t know.” Ty shook his head. “It felt like seconds before the Scudders ran off. Three of them were in a pack and riding fast. Brant was trailing behind and firing his pistol over his shoulder at Nate and me. Nate stopped shooting. He said to let him go, but I had to get in one last shot. I should have listened to Nate.”

Josie said nothing. She just stared at the boulders.

So did Ty. “Brant fell off his horse next to those rocks. His brothers were long gone, so he crawled for cover. He was still alive when I rode up, and do you know what I did?”

“No.”

“I didn’t do a blessed thing. I stood there like a king, all puffed up and justified because the Scudders had stolen from me. Nate came up behind me. He saw the kid was dying and gave him water. He prayed with him, too. I wish I’d done that. Instead I told Brant he could rot for all I cared.”

Josie’s breath caught.

“Yeah, I know.” Ty grimaced with shame. “It was an awful thing to say. Brant was younger than me. He needed comfort—even forgiveness—and I’d have spat on him if Nate hadn’t been there.” Heavy with guilt, he turned to Josie. “You begged me not to go that day. You were worried about the wedding, but there was more to it. I think you were afraid of what I’d do.”

“I was,” she admitted.

“If I’d listened to you, Brant would be alive. He deserved to go to jail, but he didn’t deserve to die. I wanted to think I was justified in killing him, but I wasn’t. We all mess up, just in different ways. I hurt you the same way Brant hurt me. He stole my horses…I stole your future. That’s why we’re here today, Josie. I want you to know that I understand what that day cost.” To be sure she heard his next words, he took her hand. “I’m asking you to forgive me for everything I did wrong.”

He needed her to say something, anything, but she was staring blindly into the gorge. Finally she tightened her fingers around his. Their hands made a fist of sorts, though whether it signaled unity or anger he didn’t know. Nothing stirred. Not a blade of grass. She released his hand slowly, as if she didn’t realize she’d been holding it, then she pressed her palm to her chest and faced him. “Do you know what that day was like for me?”

“I’ve imagined it.”

“The whole time you were gone, I prayed you’d come back alive. I wasn’t even thinking of the wedding. I was thinking of you.” Her voice barely rose above a whisper. “Do know how long you were gone?”

“Too long.” He and Nate had taken Brant’s body to town. They’d talked to the law, then gone to the saloon and each downed a shot of whiskey. Ty had raised a toast to justice. The irony of that moment still stung. So did the memory of arriving at the Bright ranch in the light of a full moon and seeing Josie pacing in the yard. “I know it was late,” he admitted.

“It was after midnight!”

He remembered, too. When he’d ridden into the yard, she’d hoisted her skirts and run to him. He’d slid off Smoke and into her arms.

Josie glared at him. “I was too relieved to be angry. Do you remember what you said?”

“I remember kissing you.”

She blinked, but her eyes stayed hard. “You said you were sorry to scare me, but you’d do it all again.”

“I wouldn’t do it now.”

“Now doesn’t matter.” She looked at him as if he were stupid. “We invited the whole town to watch us get married. My mother baked our cake. It was the last one she ever made because of her eyes. I spent hours making the dress, not because I love to sew but because I loved you. I’d never been happier in my life…then Nate came to the church. Not you…”

“I wanted to go myself, but you know what happened. The sheriff arrested me on my way there.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered.” She stared back at the gorge. “The damage was done, and things got worse with every day that passed.”

“Because of the trial.”

“Yes.” She clipped the word. “People offered condolences instead of congratulations. I felt like a widow without ever being a wife.” Her voice quavered. “And it didn’t stop… For six months people asked me about you…about us. The rude ones asked if I was going to wait for you.”

He’d wondered about that himself. “What did you say?”

“I said no.” She faced him with a bit of a smirk. “That led to some very nice invitations.”

For five years Ty had wondered about something. “Did that jerk Paul Whitman come calling?”

“Paul’s not a jerk.”

“So he did.”

“Yes,” she admitted. “But I didn’t love him. I couldn’t, and that’s what hurt the most. I wanted to be your wife, not his! I loved you—” Tears welled in her eyes. “And I can’t seem to love anyone else.”

“Ah, Josie.” He reached for her, but she turned her back, perhaps to hide her face and the threat of tears. He ached to comfort her, but he had nothing more to give. He’d done what he’d come to Rock Creek to do. He’d asked Josie for forgiveness. He wouldn’t beg, but he could hope she’d find the grace to let go of the hurt. It wouldn’t happen today, so he went to the horses. “I’m ready when you are.”

With her chin high, she walked to Maggie. “I’m ready.”

She climbed on the mare, and Ty mounted Smoke. As they turned to the trail, Josie stopped the horse in its tracks. Ty reined in Smoke. “What is it?”

“I want you to know, I heard everything you said.”

“That’s a start.”

“Maybe.” She hesitated. “I want to be done with these feelings, but I’m like a bug in a jar. I can’t get out.”

“It’s like prison.”

“Yes.”

He risked a smile. “There’s a sure cure for feeling trapped, and that’s a hard run on a fast horse. Want to race home?”

A bit of sass flashed in her eyes, and she kicked Maggie into a run.

Ty gave her a head start, mostly because he wanted to watch her hair blowing in the wind. He loved her. He always would, but the future remained uncertain. He gave Smoke the bit and off they went. Chasing after her seemed fitting. Catching up to her was even better. Side by side, they galloped like the kids they used to be. Whether it was the end of the past or the start of the future, Ty didn’t know. But he hoped it would be both.

* * *

Josie stepped into the house with her thoughts in a whirl. She’d left Ty in the barn to tend to the horses, and he’d told her not to bother with a basket for his supper. She’d never known him to skip a meal, but she hadn’t argued. They both needed breathing room, and Josie would be unsettled until she looked at the wedding dress. She didn’t want to speak to anyone, not even her mother, but Mama called to her as she came in. “Josie? Is that you?”

“It’s me, Mama.”

“How was the ride?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice wobbled. She stepped into the front room where she saw Mama knitting as usual. “I’m kind of tired. I thought I’d go to my room and rest.”

“That’s a fine idea.”

Her mother no doubt wanted to hear about her talk with Ty, but Josie had nothing to say until she saw the dress. Oddly nervous, she went to her room, closed the door and approached the wardrobe that once belonged to her grandmother. Heavy and made of mahogany, it had held Josie’s clothes for as long as she could remember. Slowly, as if approaching a dove instead of a piece of wood, she opened the double doors and looked at the top shelf. There she saw the muslin-wrapped wedding dress, neatly folded and tied with a piece of twine.

She remembered putting the dress on as plainly as she recalled taking it off. Both times she’d been in this room. In the morning she’d dressed with her sisters. Anne had done her hair, and her parents had driven Josie, Anne and Scarlett to the church in the freshly polished carriage. She’d felt like a princess about to become a queen, but then Nate broke the news about Ty. She’d wanted to see him immediately, but she couldn’t stand the thought of walking into the jail in her wedding gown. Her father took her home, and she’d taken refuge in the room where she stood now.

Before removing the dress, she’d stared at herself in the oval mirror still standing in the corner. One by one, she’d undone the buttons, thinking of the wedding they wouldn’t have. Next she’d slipped out of the sleeves. The dress had fallen at her feet in a fluttering of silk. Covered by petticoats and a chemise, she’d folded the dress and wrapped it in the muslin. She’d looked at the muslin many times, but not once had she looked at the dress.

With shaking fingers, she lifted the package and set it on her bed. She pulled on the twine and the bow unraveled. She set it aside, unwrapped the covering and lifted the dress to the light. Even wrinkled, it glowed white in the sun. She stared at the lace she’d stitched into place, the white sash she’d embroidered with roses, then she held the dress to her shoulders and looked at herself in the tall mirror.

Instead of herself as she was now, she saw the seventeen-year-old girl who’d expected life to be easy. That girl hadn’t been spoiled, but she was naive. The Bright family had always had enough. The bounty showed in the wedding dress. The silk came from a San Francisco dressmaker, and the pearl buttons had cost a small fortune.

Most of Josie’s friends made special dresses for their weddings, but their gowns were made to be worn again as their Sunday best. Josie’s dress had been different. As a girl she’d seen a white wedding dress in the Godey’s Lady’s Book. A white gown as a symbol of purity went back to Queen Victoria, though some Americans credited the tradition to Eleanor Custis, George Washington’s niece. In addition to a white dress, Eleanor had a worn a veil. The story went that her future husband first glimpsed her through a window covered with a lace curtain, and she wore the veil to capture that moment of “love at first sight.”

Josie had planned to wear a veil, but she loved the dress most. Holding it against her body, she looked at the short sleeves that puffed like clouds. The front of the bodice was flat across her torso, while the back gathered to make a small train. A white sash was tied into a bow, and the tails would have fluttered as she walked.

The dress was as lovely as ever, but Josie could barely remember the girl who’d made it. She’d been so young…so naive. When Ty confessed concerns about money, she’d blithely told him not to worry. Now she knew that cattle died and mortgages came due.

“I was such a child,” she said to the mirror. Ty hadn’t been much older. They’d both been kids, but he’d understood money in a way she hadn’t. As a boy he’d gone hungry. As a man he’d been determined to take care of her. He’d gone after the horses for a better reason than pride. He really had done it for them, though he’d also done it against her wishes.

A soft knock sounded on the door. “Josie?”

It was Mama. “Come in,” Josie called.

The door opened with a creak. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “Just confused.”

“About Ty?”

“Yes, but I’m starting to understand. Come in and sit on the bed. I want to show you something.”

Mama walked five spaces to the mahogany bedstead and sat on the feather quilt. Josie approached her with the dress in hand, holding the skirt out to her. “Feel this.”

Her mother ran her hands along the silk skirt, then touched a puffed sleeve and finally the row of pearl buttons. Her breath caught. “It’s your wedding dress.”

“I haven’t looked at it in five years.”

“Why now?”

“Because Ty asked me to forgive him.” Josie sat next to her, hugging the dress. “I want to, but it’s hard.”

“I used to be angry about my eyes,” Mama said in a quiet tone. “And I was angry about your father dying. He’d been having pains in his chest for weeks. I wanted him to hire help, but he refused.”

“I didn’t know.”

“And Nate…my only son.” Her voice hitched. “Was I angry when he died? Oh, Josie. You can’t begin to know. Every day I had to fight the bitterness.”

“How?”

“I thanked God for the sunshine, for bread and butter, for everything good. Mostly I thanked him for you.” Mama touched the dress. “May I pray for you?”

“Yes… Please.”

“Father God, You know Josie’s heart. You know the disappointment and the hurt. We pray You’ll fill her heart with peace, and that she finds forgiveness for Ty. And Lord, we thank You for bringing Ty to us exactly when we needed him most. We ask You to bless him. Amen.”

“Amen,” Josie echoed.

As the words faded to a memory, Josie felt a sudden lightness in her body. She’d meant every word of her mother’s prayer. She was glad Ty had come back. Tears of relief filled her eyes, and the hardness in her chest disappeared with a single deep breath. She felt like laughing—really laughing—for the first time in ages. She’d forgiven Ty at last. He deserved to hear it, but what did amends mean for the future? Forgiving him and trusting him were two different things. Falling in love again was altogether different, but she couldn’t deny the thoughts crossing her mind. Nor could she deny another truth. Ty had hurt her first, but she’d hurt him back by not writing to him. Ty wasn’t the only person who had amends to make. So did Josie.

“Mama?” She squeezed her mother’s hand. “How would you like to help me bake some sugar cookies?”

“Aren’t those Ty’s favorite?”

“I believe so.”

The older woman smiled. “I’d love to help.”

Josie liked the idea of surprising Ty with a basket of goodies. He’d said not to bother with supper, but she intended to bring him a basket with a meal and dessert. She’d also write him a note, one that would make them friends again. Feeling at peace, she hung the dress where she could see it. She didn’t know what the future held, but for the first time in years, she wouldn’t go to bed angry.

Chapter Six

Between last night and this morning, Ty had eaten eight cookies. He’d also read Josie’s note a dozen times. I forgive you. Can you forgive me? She’d signed it with a “J,” the way she used to sign notes when they were friends, and later when they were courting. He welcomed her forgiveness, but what did the cookies mean? Sugar cookies were the first things she’d baked for him, and they brought back memories. Good ones. The kind that made him want to admit to loving her, even though he had no way on earth to support her.

Standing at the pasture fence, he ate a golden cookie while Smoke nibbled grass. Josie’s forgiveness tasted sweet indeed, but the second half of her note confused him. Why had she asked him for forgiveness? He saw no need.

“Good morning.”

He turned and saw her walking up the path. When she worked in the barn, she wore coveralls. Today she had on a blue calico with tiny yellow flowers. She looked prettier than ever, while he had less than ever to give her. “Good morning.” He indicated the half-eaten cookie. “I got your note. Thank you.”

“I mean it.” Not only did a smile appear on her pretty face, her cheeks blushed pink. “I forgive you, Ty. I hope you can forgive me.”

“For what?”

“Not writing to you in jail. For going silent when we should have spoken. For holding a grudge.” She looked into his eyes. “Last night I realized what I child I was. We were both so young. I still disagree with the decision you made, but I can understand it now.”

“Like you said, we were kids back then.”

“Yes.” She stepped to his side and rested her hands on the fence. “I’ve put that day behind me, but what that means for the future—for us—I don’t know.”

He wanted to say it meant a fresh start. He wanted to take her in his arms and remind her of what they once had. But he didn’t have that right. He was an ex-con with ten dollars to his name. He had a strong back and a way with horses but not much else. He certainly didn’t have the means to support Josie and Mrs. Bright. Her forgiveness could mean only one thing. “So we’re friends again,” he said.

“Yes, but it feels strange.”

It felt strange to Ty, too. When it came to Josie, he had old feelings and new ones, romantic thoughts and no money in his pocket. “A lot’s happened in a short time.”

She looked at him with a confusion that mirrored his own. “We both need to take things slow.”

“That’s smart,” he agreed.

With her fingers laced on the top rail, she looked at Smoke. “I missed you as much as your horse did. Being friends again will be nice.”

Ty agreed, but not fully. Friendship struck him as pale compared to the love they’d once shared. It was bread when he wanted cake. It would satisfy him, but he wanted more…he wanted to love her again. Looking out to the pasture, he had a sense of being back behind bars. Instead of steel, they were made of his inability to support her, but they were as real as the ones in prison. He wanted to break free, but he didn’t see a way.

Josie still had her eyes on the horse. “The race is in two weeks. How’s Smoke doing?”

“Good.”

“So we have a shot at winning?”

He liked how we sounded, but he had to remember his place. “He’s your horse and I’m a hired hand. It’s your race, Josie. I’m just riding in it.”

“I have two things to say.” She sounded like the boss. “Smoke belongs to you. Nate bought him for a song because no one else could ride him. I’ll sell him back to you for the money I owe you for paying Obie and Gordie.”

The price was fair to both of them. “It’s a deal.”

“Good.”

He hesitated, then said, “But I’m not splitting the prize money.”

“Ty—”

“I don’t want to argue.” He turned to look at her and wished he hadn’t. She seemed to look right through him. “It’s not pride, Josie. I owe you.”

“I thought forgiveness wiped the slate clean.”

“It does.”

“Then why won’t you take your share?”

“You need it.”

“So do you,” she countered. “Don’t you have plans for the future? With five-hundred dollars you could get a fresh start somewhere…even here in Rock Creek.”

Had she just asked him to stick around for a while? Neither of them were ready to go past being friends, but they’d once been in love and they hadn’t forgotten those feelings. If Ty owned Smoke, he could justify taking half the prize money. If he gave it to Josie after the race, he’d feel like part owner of the Bar JB. He could think about courting her. No, he corrected himself, he could do more than think about it…he could romance her like he’d done when they were kids.

“All right,” he agreed. “We’ll split it.”

“So we’re partners now.”

“Business partners,” he confirmed.

Smiling sweetly, she offered her hand. Ty took it, but they didn’t shake on the deal and break apart. They stood with their fingers touching and their eyes asking questions of themselves and each other. Ty thought of the time he’d let her down, broke the grip and looked away.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He frowned at the meadow. “I won’t let you down, Josie.”

“I know you’ll do your best,” she said evenly. “But winning isn’t everything.”

“It is to me.”

“Not to me,” she replied. “I’m trusting you to ride hard and fair. That’s all anyone can ask. Winning and losing aren’t in your hands.”

“I’ll show up,” he assured her. “And I’ll win, because it’s the only way I can—” he stopped in midsentence.

“The only way you can what?”

“Never mind.” He didn’t dare mention courting her. Before he breathed a word of romance, he had to be able to support her. And to support her he had to win the Maze. “I better get to work,” Ty said, though he could think of something he’d like a lot more…a picnic in a pretty meadow, a ride to nowhere with nothing to do but enjoy each other. Someday he hoped to have those opportunities.

They turned at the same time. When she tipped up her chin and smiled, he had to fight the urge to do what he’d wanted to do for five years. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to marry her, and he wanted to pick up his dirty socks just like Reverend Hall had instructed. If he won the Maze, he’d do all of that and more. If he didn’t…the thought didn’t bear considering. He shifted his gaze from Josie’s lips to her eyes. As if she knew what he’d been thinking—and she did—she gave him a sassy look. He gave her a daring one back, and she laughed. “I think I like being friends.”

“Me, too.”

They walked back to the barn without touching hands, trading friendly barbs as if they were kids again. But it wasn’t enough…not nearly enough. For the future he wanted to give to Josie, Ty had to win that race. Until then, he’d be her friend, nothing more. No kissing. No hand holding. No sitting on the porch or walks in the moonlight. Friendship only and that was final.

* * *

Josie meant it when she told Ty they needed time to sort their feelings, but a week later she had her answers. She’d forgiven him and wanted to love him again. Not only did he work hard on the ranch, he’d been kind to her mother and gentle with her. Their evening suppers with Mama were the highlight of each day, with the three of them remembering Nate and Papa and the good times they’d had. Josie had expected some of her bitterness to linger, but it disappeared as completely as a caterpillar turned to a butterfly.

At night she looked at her wedding dress and imagined wearing it, but with her new hope came wariness. If Ty still had feelings for her, he was hiding them well. She also worried about his impulsive ways. He’d fired Obie without her permission, and she could see him always taking risks. The possibilities frightened her, but she could also imagine Ty kissing her, something that hadn’t happened. He hadn’t even come close and she didn’t know what to think. That’s why she was sitting in the kitchen at almost midnight with a cup of lukewarm tea. Ty had left the house two hours ago, and she hadn’t shaken her disappointment in yet another polite goodbye, or her concern that he’d somehow let her down.

“Josie?” Mama appeared in the doorway. “You’re up late.”

“I can’t sleep.”

Mama sat with a soft plop. “Because of Ty?”

“Always!” She chewed her lip in frustration. “The past week has been good. I really have forgiven him, but I’m just not sure I can trust him again.”

“I understand,” Mama agreed. “Forgiving someone who’s hurt you doesn’t mean you let it happen again. It means you don’t hold it against them. You start over and make new choices.”

“Even that’s confusing,” Josie admitted. “I thought maybe we would sit on the porch like we used to, but he leaves the minute you go to bed.”

“I’ve seen how polite he’s been.”

“Too polite.”

Mama thought for a minute. “He’s always had a lot of pride. Maybe he’s bothered to be working for you.”

“I don’t think of him as a hired hand. He’s more like family.”

“A brother?”

Josie’s cheeks flushed. “No, not at all.”

“Does Ty know that?”

“I think so, but it’s complicated. He’s always had an impulsive streak. It’s what got him into trouble, and it still worries me.” She sighed. “Sometimes I think he cares about me, but he treats me like…like Nate.”

Mama’s voice turned conspiratorial. “Would you like some advice from an old lady?”

“You’re not that old.”

“I’m old enough,” Mama replied. “Here’s what you do. Invite Ty to take a walk in the moonlight. If he doesn’t kiss you, then you kiss him.”

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