Page 4 of Forever Dreams


  After working out her father didn't live at the last address her mom had kept, she'd spent hours on the Internet searching phone directories, business guides and newspaper articles. She'd saved every scrap of information, hoping it might bring her one step closer to finding him.

  Staying on the ranch until Gerald got back hadn't been part of her plan, but with any luck she'd be able to catch a ride into town with someone and hire a car. She had two months to find a man who had disappeared out of her life. Two months, ten names and a lifetime of questions.

  With a final glance around her bedroom, she walked out the door. Adele was standing with her back to the landing, stacking fresh linen in the hall cupboard. "Thank you for dinner last night. The chicken was delicious."

  "You're welcome, Gracie. Go down to the kitchen and help yourself to anything you want. If you feel like something warm, there's fresh bacon and flapjacks cooling on the counter." Adele turned back to the cupboard. "Oh, I nearly forgot. Trent said to tell you to meet him at the barn if you're up and about before eight o'clock."

  "Thanks." Gracie's mouth started to water at the smell of delicious food wafting through the house. She glanced down at her watch. After a quick breakfast and an even quicker look in the local phone directory, she'd definitely be at the barn before eight.

  ***

  Gracie's sneakers crunched on the gravel as she walked across the yard. Filling her lungs with clean, fresh, morning air, she smiled at the sight of the barn.

  Like the house, it was huge. Standing at least three stories high and painted bright red with white trim, the barn looked like something out of a movie set. A dozen doors opened into a large corral that was empty except for a couple of dogs running around in the sun. A piercing whistle filled the still air and the dogs took off toward a fence. Within seconds Trent appeared, walking a black horse out the side door of the barn. The dogs came to a screaming halt, waiting patiently while he tied the horse's lead to the fence.

  He looked up as Gracie got nearer and she pretended not to notice just how good he looked in blue plaid. Or the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled in that slow, contagious way that set her heart rate fluttering.

  "Morning, sleepyhead. Glad you could make it."

  "Me too," Gracie managed without tripping over her tongue. The students in her class would be jumping up and down like hot beans in a fry pan if they could see the cowboy standing in front of her. "If I hadn't set my alarm, I wouldn't be here. Jet lag's messing with my body." Reaching down, she patted the dogs on their heads. "What are their names?"

  "The one on the left is Rufus, the other one's Spot."

  Both dogs snuggled closer as she rubbed behind their ears. They looked like a cross between a German Shepherd and a Dingo.

  "You've got something in common." Trent grinned. "They're Australian Sheep Dogs."

  Gracie kept rubbing. "Boys, you tell that boss of yours New Zealand is separated from Australia by a whole ocean." She smiled as Spot licked her hand. "Much as I'd like to be genetically linked to you, we're worlds apart."

  Trent laughed as he disappeared inside the barn. Gracie kept rubbing his two dogs, only slightly worried about the warhorse standing a few feet away.

  She didn't know much about horses, but she guessed this stallion would be considered a prime example. His black coat gleamed in the morning sun and his tail flicked at imaginary flies as he stood waiting for his owner. Trent arrived back with another horse. This one stood half as high as her male friend and didn't have the same devilish glint in her eye.

  "Ever ridden a horse?"

  Gracie swallowed. Even though the second horse wasn't as tall as the stallion, she still had to crane her neck to see the top of its back. "No, but I'll give it a go."

  "That's my girl."

  A flutter of something she didn't want to analyze settled in her tummy. Three days ago she'd been teaching math to a class of eight-year-olds. Now here she was, standing beside a big red barn in Montana, dealing with a butterfly stomach at the slightest praise from a cowboy.

  "Gracie, meet Daisy. She's real gentle and won't spook easily."

  Raising her hand to Daisy's nose, Gracie let the mare sniff her fingers. Warm air and tickly whiskers rubbed against her hand. "Hello, girl, don't mind me. I've never ridden a horse before." With more bravado than confidence, she whispered, "I'm sure we'll make a great team." Daisy nudged her fingers, bending forward to push Gracie's hand onto her head.

  "She's a sucker for a scratch. She'll be your friend for life if you itch between her eyes."

  Gracie gently rubbed Daisy's skin and swore her horse started to purr.

  "I've got to check a few fields. I thought you might like to see more of the ranch."

  Gracie looked at Daisy. How difficult could it be to ride a horse who acted like an overgrown cat? She nodded her head. She could do this. Straightening her shoulders, Gracie looked up at the saddle. "How do I get up?"

  "Put your foot in my hands and I'll hoist you over the top." Trent pushed his hat to the back of his head and leaned forward until his face was level with hers.

  She looked down at his cupped hands, up at the saddle, then into his gray eyes. "You won't go too fast will you?"

  His eyes crinkled at the corners. "I promise not to launch you into space."

  Gracie had trouble thinking with his body inches from hers. So much for butterfly wings. A herd of elephants stomped through her body, creating havoc with her brain cells.

  "Are you listening, Gracie?"

  She took a deep breath and stuck her foot in his hands. Half-turning toward him, she said, "Is this okay?"

  His eyes deepened to slate gray. He cleared his throat. "When I lift you up, grab onto the front of the saddle."

  Gracie looked at the leather saddle. The only thing she could focus on was Trent's warm breath as it slid along the back of her neck. "There isn't much to hold onto."

  "You'll be fine. Just pull your leg over the top of Daisy. Are you ready?"

  Gracie nodded and Trent pushed her up. She scrambled onto Daisy's back, arms and legs going in all directions. Trent passed her the reins and with a victorious grin she stared back at him. She was ready for action.

  "What do I do now?"

  "Stay on the saddle."

  "Very funny." Gracie looked down at the ground. It was a long way down.

  Trent adjusted the stirrups and grabbed a black helmet off the fence. "Put this on. I'll do the strap up for you if you have any problems."

  The grin slipped off Gracie's face. A riding helmet hadn't figured too highly in her dreams of being a cowgirl. But then falling off a horse hadn't either. With a sigh, she rammed the helmet on her head. Her hands fumbled with the straps until she gave up in disgust. Trying to keep upright on Daisy's back and clicking the strap into place just wasn't working.

  Sticking her chin out, she glanced at Trent. He'd pulled himself up onto his horse and looked ready to spend the day in his saddle. "I need your expertise, Mr. McKenzie."

  He rode across to her, a gleam in his eye that set her heart rate pounding. "You look about eighteen years old."

  His warm fingers tickled the sensitive skin under her chin as he fiddled with the strap. A rush of heat sped to her cheeks. She couldn't remember feeling so off-center in her entire life. Apart from the fact that she was six feet in the air, clutching a gentle beast of a horse between her thighs, and regretting not going to the bathroom before she left, life was just dandy. As a teenager, she'd had more common sense stacked in her little finger than what she did now.

  Here she was, thirty-one years old, having heart palpitations at the slightest touch from a cowboy. And all from the back of a horse who thought she was a cat. Risking a quick glance at Trent's face, she was pleased to see a faint blush along his cheekbones. At least she wasn't the only one having a hormonal meltdown.

  Trent's horse snorted, shaking his mane in the sunlight. "When you're ready to move, give Daisy a gentle nudge with your h
eels. Keep the reins loose and your feet in the stirrups."

  Gracie nudged Daisy with her sneakers. Nothing happened. "Come on girl. Let's show this cowboy we can do this." She tried again. Daisy moved forward and Gracie gripped the reins between her fingers. She pulled her legs tight, concentrating on keeping her bottom firmly attached to the saddle. Following Trent's lead, she managed to keep a steady pace beside him.

  "You're doing great. Loosen your hold on the reins; Daisy's not going to take off in a hurry."

  Gracie risked a quick glance in his direction. His hands weren't clamped around his reins like bands of steel. She unclenched her fingers, wiggling them against the leather straps as blood pumped through her hands. "I feel like I'm rolling on an ocean wave."

  "As long as you don't get seasick, then I guess we'll be okay."

  Gracie forgot how far down the ground was, forgot about falling off her horse. Her concentration zoomed in on the laughing cowboy beside her. She'd really hit rock bottom when a man's voice made her feel like a giddy teenager. Maybe jet lag was messing with her brain. Maybe she needed to get out more. Or maybe Trent's deep, sexy voice did the same thing to every female in town. She hoped not.

  As they rode across the ranch, Spot and Rufus raced ahead, happy to explore on their own. Every now and then Trent would let out a high-pitched whistle and they'd come sprinting back, sniffing the air until another smell had them streaking away. Gracie focused on the fields around them, trying to ignore the way Trent's body moved in time with his horse. And the way he'd turn in his saddle, waiting patiently for her to catch up when Daisy decided to stop and munch on the alfalfa.

  While they were looking for fences that needed to be repaired, Trent told her about the ranch, about his family and the history of the land. For three generations, the McKenzie family had lived and died on the Triple L, working with nature to create a life they wouldn't trade for anything.

  In the distance, Gracie watched a giant plume of dust create a summer storm across the ranch. "What's going on over there?"

  Trent followed the direction of her hand. "The contractor's baling hay. After he's finished, the skid loader comes along and puts the bales onto a truck and then the hay gets stored in one of our barns."

  "Do you think I could go and see the haymaking while I'm here?"

  He nodded, reining in his horse who looked as though he'd had enough of the slow pace. "Once we've checked a few more fields I'll take you across so you can see what's happening. At this time of year, our main job is to get enough hay stacked in the barns for winter. You'll be an expert by the time you get home."

  After another hour of riding, Gracie doubted she'd be an expert in anything except the perils of riding a horse for the first time. She couldn't feel her bottom and the muscles in her thighs were cramping from gripping Daisy's ribs.

  "Do you want to get down and stretch your legs?"

  "You must have read my mind," she groaned. Looking at the ground, she tried to guess how far she'd have to jump. "I might need a hand getting off Daisy."

  A cheeky grin spread across Trent's much too handsome face.

  Gracie stomped down on the wayward thoughts pushing common sense out of her head. "Don't get any funny ideas, cowboy. Making the most of innocent women landing in your arms wasn't part of the deal."

  "Who me, ma'am? I'd never take advantage of an innocent woman." He dismounted, wiped his hands on the back of his jeans and reached up for her.

  She held Trent's shoulders as she swung her leg over the saddle. Daisy suddenly moved forward. Gracie squeaked in alarm when she felt herself slipping toward the ground. She made a desperate lunge for Trent, tightly holding his shoulders and curling her legs around his waist.

  Staggering back, he let out a surprised laugh. "I do believe, honey, that you're the one taking advantage of me."

  Gracie didn't know where to look and she sure as heck didn't want to spend too much time staring into Trent's laughing gray eyes. So she did what any single self-respecting female would have done. She unlocked her legs and landed butt first on the ground.

  ***

  "Hello? Anyone home?"

  Gracie glanced up, dropping the last strawberry on a pavlova she'd made for dessert. Frowning at the clock on the kitchen wall, she wiped her hands on her borrowed apron and walked toward the front door.

  "Can I help you?" Gray eyes, an exact replica of Trent's, gazed back at Gracie. "Mrs. McKenzie?"

  "Call me Karen. I'm very pleased to meet you. I can't tell you how much I've been looking forward to this moment."

  Gracie had expected a warm welcome, but something wasn't right. Mrs. McKenzie beamed at her like a long lost relative. Or the woman who was going to make her son the happiest man alive. "Umm. It's nice to meet you. I'm Gracie. The teacher from New Zealand you've been emailing."

  A frown creased Karen's face. "You're Gracie Donnelly?"

  Gracie nodded.

  "Oh dear," Karen sighed. "I was hoping you were?not to worry. I'm glad you've made it to Bozeman. I thought you weren't coming out to the ranch for another couple of weeks?"

  "Gerald's mom broke her leg, so Trent met me at the airport. I'm staying at the ranch until Gerald gets back. Would you like to come through to the kitchen? I'm about to put the kettle on for a cup of tea."

  "I'd love a hot drink, but I can't stay long. I promised Jordan I'd stop by and see him before dinner."

  Gracie filled the kettle with water and fussed around in the pantry, looking for something they could eat. She opened a cookie tin and glanced at the clock for the second time. "Trent shouldn't be too much longer."

  "It doesn't matter," Karen said as she sat on a kitchen stool. "At this time of the year the boys can be out on the ranch until all hours. If I'd known Gerald wasn't in Bozeman I would have met you at the airport myself."

  "It worked out okay," Gracie said as she looked for the teabags.

  "Over here," Karen said. She walked around the counter and reached for an old jar at the back of the pantry.

  "My luggage went missing so Trent took me to Walmart. I'm just pleased I didn't lose my carry-on."

  "You went to Walmart?"

  Gracie poured boiling water into two mugs, hoping the confused look on Karen's face had nothing to do with Caitlin.

  A soft blush warmed Karen's cheeks. "Everything's beginning to make sense now. My friend Doris heard from her granddaughter that Caitlin had seen Trent's fianc?e with him?"

  Gracie's hand hovered over one of the mugs. Engaged. She couldn't look after a house plant without it dying a slow and painful death. She wouldn't know what to do with a fianc?. She'd never even managed to date someone for more than two months. As soon as any relationship turned serious, she got a serious case of cold feet and ran in the opposite direction.

  "Don't worry. I'll give Doris a call as soon as I get home and let her know there's been a misunderstanding."

  "Thank you," Gracie mumbled as she passed Karen a mug of tea.

  "It's the least I can do. If I hadn't made such a fuss about finding Trent a wife, Doris wouldn't have thought anything of her granddaughter's story."

  Gracie almost felt sorry for Trent. Until she remembered the way her body lit up like a Christmas tree whenever they were within touching distance. Then she felt sorry for the female half of Bozeman. Any man that had that effect on women should be quarantined as a threat to humanity. And common sense. And lots of other things Gracie hadn't thought about in a long time.

  "But I'm not meddling in his life anymore. When he told me he wanted to get married, I couldn't have been happier. That's why I thought he'd brought his girlfriend out to the ranch. To see if she could make the Triple L her home. It's a lovely place to raise a family."

  Good Lord. Babies? Trent was still working on finding a girlfriend and his mom was thinking about grandchildren?

  "I really am sorry for confusing you with someone else. You must think I'm one of those desperate mothers who want to see their son happily married."


  "I think Trent's lucky that you care," Gracie said carefully. No wonder he didn't have a girlfriend. As soon as he went out on a date half of Bozeman would be planning their wedding.

  Karen's cell phone chirped. "That'll be Jordan. He said he'd text me when he got home." She stood up and gave Gracie a hug. "Everything will work out just fine. I'll call in and say hello to Trent before I head back to town." Karen left her mug in the sink and waved goodbye.

  Gracie sank down into a chair and rested her head in her hands. She'd managed to dodge matrimonial bliss for thirty-one years, but within hours of arriving in Montana a big chunk of the population thought she was engaged-to a man whose mom thought he needed a wife.

  At least her friends back home wouldn't hear about her near miss with a handsome cowboy. Unless town gossip or Caitlin Jones traveled at lightning speed.

  ***

  Trent pulled his boots off in the mudroom. If he wasn't mistaken, Mrs. Davies had cooked some kind of beef dish for dinner. The smell of hot meat with loads of garlic and herbs made his mouth water.

  The sound of pots and pans banging against each other filled the house. Someone was in the kitchen, and there was only one little someone at home. "Is that you, Gracie?"

  She stood by the oven, a wooden spoon clutched in her hand and a gleam in her eye that he hadn't seen before.

  "I hope you're going to stir something with that thing and not use it on me?" She didn't even blink at his attempt at humor. If anything, her grip on the spoon tightened.

  "I don't know whether to feel sorry for you or be annoyed."

  He stepped carefully around the kitchen counter and turned the kettle on. "Option one sounds good. What's wrong?"

  "Your mom stopped by before visiting Jordan."

  He froze on the spot. The mug of hot coffee he'd been looking forward to didn't seem quite so important anymore. "What did she say?"

  The microwave beeped. Gracie took out a bowl of gravy and gave it a quick stir. "She thought you'd found the love of your life. Her friends think we're engaged."

  He gulped. "Engaged?"

  "As in almost married. M-a-r-r-i-e-d." Gracie leaned against the counter, fanning herself with a dishtowel. "I think I'm hyperventilating."