Gentling the Cowboy(75)

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard truer words spoken.” Evan nodded sadly and rubbed his hands roughly over his face. When he looked at Tony, he looked older, sadder. “Have you said all you came to say, Mr. Carlton?”

“Yes, sir,” Tony said, understanding the dismissal for what it was. He turned and opened the door, feeling there was more he wanted to say, but not knowing for sure what it was. When he closed the door, he saw Evan still looking down at the photo of his daughter and the sight touched his heart.

I wish to God I knew how to ease his pain.





Instead of immediately driving back to his ranch, Tony found himself pulling into a cemetery he’d considered visiting many times but never had. He knew exactly where Kimberly was buried. He’d always known.

With his hat in his hand, he stood before her stone and softly spoke aloud. “I’m not a praying man and I don’t know if you can hear me, but there has to be more than this. It can’t all be about what we’ve done wrong and those we’ve let down. Your dad says he gave you everything, Kimberly. Give me something for him.”

There was no sudden breeze. No light from above. Tony replaced his hat and shook his head. What did I expect? If there’s anyone up there, why the hell would they listen to me? He returned to his truck and headed home.

On the way, he thought about David and what it meant if he’d been fired by the Statens and then come to the Double C after Kimberly’s death. What had he said? He’d come to slap me with reality and had expected to find me celebrating my not-guilty verdict. Instead he found me drunk and sinking fast. It wasn’t easy for Tony to look back at that dark time and how close he’d come to ending his own life.

I wouldn’t be alive today if David hadn’t come to find me.

He tried to save Kimberly and failed.

So he saved me.

A random thought followed and almost made Tony smile. I hope I pay him.

A few hours later, Tony avoided David and his ranch hands and took off for a long ride on the horse he’d ridden the day he and Sarah had raced. He remembered what Sarah had said about feeling free when she galloped on her horse. Tony urged his palomino on until he felt the same exhilaration. For just a moment, he was far away from his past and somehow closer to the woman he’d let walk away.

He stopped his horse on the highest point of his land and admitted a truth that he could no longer deny.

I miss her.




The next few days dragged by without event. Tony returned to working with the horses and his ranch hands went back to pretty much avoiding him. On the surface, things had returned to how they were before Sarah, but Tony was beginning to understand they never could.

He’d changed.

He didn’t want to eat alone anymore. He didn’t want people to look away when he approached and rush to return to work. He knew their names now and for the first time he watched them work the horses. They were good at what they did, really good. So was David. It was humbling to realize how little credit he’d given any of them for the quality of the final product they sold.

Tony was in his kitchen drinking a glass of water when Melanie walked in and said, “There’s a man on the phone for you, Tony. I know you say you don’t want to be bothered with calls, but David told me to get you for this one.”

Who would David think I’d want to talk to?

Evan? Does he even know I met with him?

Charles? That’s a conversation with a low likelihood of being pleasant.

Tony took the phone from Melanie and raised an eyebrow at her. She took the hint and left the kitchen, giving him his privacy.

“Tony Carlton,” Tony said abruptly and waited.

“Mr. Carlton.” An enthusiastic male voice echoed his name. “You don’t know what an honor it is to finally get to speak with you. Normally, I don’t get past your ranch manager.”

Leaning back against his kitchen counter, Tony asked impatiently, “Who is this?”

In a rush, the man said, “Sorry, my name is Gerry Hamilton. I represent Dolan’s Children’s Fund.”

“David handles donations,” Tony said dismissively and prepared to hang up.

“We’re not looking for a donation. Well, not exactly. We’d like you to host a horse expo we’ve been putting together. A big name like you would bring the crowds. All you’d have to do is a couple demonstrations. We’d handle the rest. The proceeds go to our nonprofit foundation . . .”

“I don’t do public appearances anymore.”

“Yes, but you’re still a celebrity. People remember you.”

Unfortunately. “I’m sorry, I wish I could help you, but—”