Accidental Knight: A Marriage Mistake Romance(7)

Edison, blissfully unaware, just leans against the fence. Almost like he knows I need him to keep me from falling off the top rung.

Eventually, I sniff the tears away, and when I suck in air, it’s like I’m taking my first real cleansing breath since I’d gotten the bad news about Grandpa.

I loosen my hold on the horse, running a hand down the length of his nose.

“Just you and me now, bud.”

He stomps a foot, then nickers and steps back, pulling away from the fence.

“I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. I promise.”

He eyes me cautiously.

I don’t blame him. I’d promised him I’d be back long before now once upon a time.

Sigh.

“I promise,” I say again, more firmly. “This time, it’s different. Just you wait. I’ll be right here, at the ranch, for the next six months. Maybe longer...”

He stretches his neck far enough forward for me to reach him. I scratch behind one ear. “Glad you still trust me. Edison...I’ll need your help. Not gonna lie.”

Edison snorts, this time louder, tossing his head up and down again.

I’ll take that as his promise in horse-speak.

Giving him another scratch, happiness returns. “You have to be good, too. I won’t have time to be chasing you down. So, no opening gates like I know you love.” He’s an absolute Houdini when it comes to latches of all kinds, even knobs. “Deal?”

He shakes his head once and I’m staring in disbelief, but then it moves up and down.

Laughing, I jump down off the fence, and nearly fall because of the heels I’m wearing. My bad. West Coast styles have no place on a North Dakota ranch.

“I have to go unpack and change. Give me some time.”

He nickers, and I laugh again.

A sense of soft contentment fills me even before I reach the Jeep. I turn, waving at Edison. “Meet you at the barn, boy!”

I jump in and shift into drive. Edison takes off across the pasture.

He’ll be there. No doubt whatsoever.

We used to do this all the time. It was our version of hide and seek. It taught me how wise, gentle, and incredibly smart a beast like Edison could be.

I watch until he disappears behind the trees lining the ditch. They’re strategically planted as a wind row to keep the snow off the driveway. Winter is coming has a far more ominous meaning in the North Dakota heartland than it does for any crazy TV show.

I’m not kidding.

There were times I’d call Gramps every other day when I heard about blizzards hitting the area, just to make sure he was okay. He’d laugh them off as 'rooster spinners' – referring to the big metal weather vane on the barn – but I know there were times the drifts were scary high on the roads, sealing all access in or out of the ranch.

The gravel road prevents me from driving as fast as I’d like to the house. I have to remind myself that Gramps isn’t there, waiting for me to arrive, and that’s sad, but it doesn’t completely take away the eagerness swirling inside me.

This is it. Home sweet home. More than any other place I’ve ever known.

I’d rather be here a hundred times more than my parents’ most outrageous private island penthouse.

A smile tugs on my lips as I pull up. I shut off the engine and take a good, long look around.

It’s just like I remember: the house, the barn, the machine shed and other outbuildings tucked together in neat formation. Sure, they’re old – rustic, even – but no worse for wear.

In fact, the entire lot of them sport fairly new paint jobs. The wind and sun haven’t faded the bright apple reds and star spangled blues and starry whites.

Gramps was a huge sucker for pure Americana, but his throwback style hits me with its warmth, its boldness, its welcome home punch to the feelies.

The massive three-story house, along with its wide wrap-around porch has a shiny new coat of paint on it, too. White with red trim. Just like I remember.

I pull the keys out of the ignition, open the door and step out, taking another good look around. A wave of sadness washes over me. I wish I hadn’t waited so long to return.

Collecting only what I’ll need for the night, I leave the rest of my bags in the Jeep and walk toward the house. Until a nicker in the distance has me turning.

How had I forgotten? I walk over to the corral and pat his neck. “All right, you win. Just like always.”

He smacks his hoof at the ground, spraying dirt.

“And now I really have to get out of these stupid heels before they’re ruined.” I give him one more pat and then walk to the house.

The front door doesn’t open like I expect. It’s locked, which surprises me.

That’s not Gramps’ style. But then again, someone had to come by to secure the place after he passed, so...is it really so weird?

That’s probably why Mr. Sheridan asked if I had a key. As Grandpa’s lawyer, maybe Sheridan himself came by and locked the front door.

Maybe not, though, considering his back.

Probably the helper, I decide.

Gramps said he stayed in the little cottage, usually, perched several acres away. It hadn’t been much more than a hunting shack from what I remember, but maybe Gramps had it fixed up too.

Both rocking chairs near the door sway back and forth from the wind like Gramps himself welcoming me home.