Snow Melts in Spring - By Deborah Vogts Page 0,96

with her sister — as intimate as a man could be with a woman? Not to mention that he’d betrayed his brother in the process. Had he really changed?

Could she trust him with her heart, her very soul?

“I’ll meet you in the barn around three,” Mattie finally said, then rushed outside before she could change her mind. As she walked to her truck, she noticed the land, stretched out into gently rolling hills, barren except for a few trees that dotted the prairie. Soon cattle would graze the bluestem pastures, and all of nature would come out of its long, winter slump.

The wind whipped the soft material of Mattie’s dress, and her heels poked into the moist earth, made damp from an overnight shower. Springtime offered much to look forward to — the greening of the hills, wildflowers, cool water from the deep stream wells.

If only Gil would give up his notion of California and stay on at his father’s ranch. They could experience this new season in the hills together, and she’d have more time to witness his true character. She watched as Gil and John made their way down the church steps.

Seeing them together, she realized that some miracles do happen. Would a miracle happen for her and Gil too? She dug in her purse for her cell phone. Minutes later, Mattie heard her mother’s voice on the answering machine. The poor reception crackled in her ears.

“Hey Mom, something has come up. I won’t be able to make lunch this afternoon. Sorry. I’ll call you later and maybe we can reschedule.”

Mattie placed the phone in her purse. What did Gil want to discuss with her that was so important? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but she was holding out hope for a miracle.

A LITTLE BEFORE THREE, MATTIE ENTERED THE BARN WHERE GIL saddled Tulip. She debated turning around as fear gripped her stomach.

Gil looked up and grinned beneath his straw cowboy hat. “It’s a nice afternoon for a ride. A bluebird day, my mama used to say.”

Mattie took the leather straps from Gil’s hands, deeply aware of how handsome he looked in a chambray shirt and blue jeans. “I see you’ve saddled your new mare.”

“I worked the filly in the round pen yesterday and figured this afternoon would be a good time to see how the mare performs.” He moved to the red roan and placed the bridle on her head.

Mattie adjusted the cinch against Tulip’s girth, then went out to halter Dusty. The chestnut gelding snorted at the pasture gate and thumped his hoof into the dirt.

“How you doing there, boy?” She smoothed her hand down his chest and forearms and inhaled the horsy scent, noting the excellent progress in his healing. It’d been nearly four months since his accident. She never believed he would come out of his injuries so quickly. That he’d been brought back to health through tender loving care made her heart swell with affection for the old boy. “Have you thought any more about what you’ll do with Dusty, once he’s fully recovered?” she asked when Gil stepped out of the barn with the two mares.

Gil rubbed his jaw. “I don’t know, maybe I’ll turn him out to pasture and let him pick on the new horse like you suggested.” He chuckled and climbed into his saddle.

Mattie snapped the lead rope onto Dusty’s halter, then mounted Tulip, the leather seat squeaking beneath her as they took off at a walk toward the north pasture. “There’s no reason you couldn’t ride him. I’ve been reading about one-eyed horses that perform in reining competitions and much more. You should be able to enjoy him for years to come.”

Gil settled in beside her and adjusted his hat. “I appreciate all you’ve done with Dusty. You put your heart into his recuperation — and you succeeded. I admire you for that.”

Never one to take compliments well, and especially not from Gil, she swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I only did my job. That’s what you paid me for.”

“And you were worth every penny.” He grinned, but a hint of sadness marked his cheerful expression. “I thought we might take the horses to Lightning Creek. With all the spring showers, it ought to be flowing good and strong.”

Not interested in small talk, Mattie nudged the gray mare into a trot. Gil followed on his roan. The three traveled over the rolling prairie, slowing only to cross the deep ravines and rocky gulches. As

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