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Ellie moved forward until she was only a few paces away from the man she hadn’t seen in years, the man she once loved.

“Hello, Arnie.” Her mouth as dry as the sandbox at school, she spoke in a voice that was little more than a whisper.

His attention remained focused on her daughter, Torie, for a moment before he lifted his head. He squinted as he looked up at Ellie. There seemed to be no spark of recognition in his eyes.

“I’m sorry my daughter was so forward. I’m afraid she’s quite an animal lover.” Reaching for Torie, she said, “Give someone else a turn now, honey.”

Awareness flickered in his eyes, and he shot the child an assessing look. “Same red hair. I should’ve known.” His voice was as flat as his eyes yet she read an angry denunciation in them.

“It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah.”

Big Sky Family
Charlotte Carter

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Then Jesus said to his host, “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or sisters, your relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

—Luke 14:12–14

Special thanks to my editor, Emily Rodmell, who made this book so much better.

Chapter One

Her heart as thick in her throat as if she’d swallowed a ball of yarn, Ellie James drove the van over the cattle guard of the O’Brien ranch. She had once loved the man who had owned the ranch—and had abandoned him eight years ago.

Guilt pressing in on her, Ellie glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled at her six young preschool passengers. She’d been their teacher at Ability Counts Preschool and Day Care Center in Potter Creek, Montana, for a week. She already loved each of the four-year-olds in her class. Three had physical disabilities—cerebral palsy, spina bifida and a prosthetic leg. The remaining three were simply normal kids, including her own daughter, Victoria.

All the youngsters were the best of friends, which proved the value of mainstreaming disabled children early.

“There’s horses!” Carson, her spina bifida boy, screamed.

Billy and Shane echoed Carson’s high-pitched announcement.

Ellie flinched. “Inside voices, please.”

A dozen quarter horses grazed in a beautifully fenced pasture to the right of the drive.

“Carson’s getting anxious,” her daughter, Torie, said.

“Yes, he is.” She glanced at her sparkly eyed, little minx of a daughter, the child’s hair almost the same shade of auburn as her own. She counted God’s blessings, as she had every day since Torie had been born. “I bet you’re excited, too, Torie.”

“I wanna ride a great big horse, not a pony.”

“We’ll have to see what kind of horses they have, honey. And remember, you’ll have to take turns with your friends.”

Ellie followed her employer’s van, filled with another half dozen preschoolers, down the long, dusty drive toward the core of the ranch. Up ahead, the sun glistened off the two-story white farmhouse. The nearby barn appeared sturdy and well maintained, and beyond that a new house was being built, the framing in place.

Her nerves settled a bit. The ranch was not the rundown, shabby place she remembered. Instead, this ranch was a prosperous enterprise.

Surely Arnie O’Brien was gone by now, had moved away, found another life, the ranch sold. The new owners would be the ones who welcomed the preschoolers.

She parked behind the van driven by Vanna Coulter, the owner and founder of Ability Counts. In the corral a mixed group of six saddled horses waited for their young riders.

“All right, children. Let’s remember to help our friends.” She activated the special lift that would enable Carson to exit in his wheelchair. Anne Marie, who used crutches, stepped onto the lift, as well. Ellie lowered the lift, and the other youngsters exited in a more traditional fashion.

“Hold hands with your partner.” The children were so excited, their eyes wide, that she had trouble keeping them together. “Let’s see what Miss Vanna has for us.”

Her little clutch of youngsters started forward, Torie helping to push Carson’s wheelchair. Jefferson, her quietest boy, stayed close to Anne Marie. The morning was already warm, and most of the children were wearing shorts. Ellie suspected by the end of this outing, she’d be happy to trade her lightweight slacks for a pair of shorts, too.

As they reached Vanna and her group of students, a man in a wheelchair rolled out of the barn and came toward them.

Mouth open in stunned disbelief, Ellie watched in amazement as Arnie O’Brien approached.

Each stroke of his hands on the wheels of his chair propelled him forward. The muscles of his darkly tanned forearms flexed and corded. His shoulders were broader than she remembered. Beneath his ebony Stetson, the tips of his silky black hair fluttered in the breeze he created by his sheer strength and power. His sculpted cheekbones and straight nose spoke of his Blackfoot Indian heritage on his mother’s side.

A beautiful golden retriever mix trotted along beside him.

“Hey, kids. Who wants to ride a horse?” he called out.

The children sent up a cacophony of “I do! I do!” and raised their hands, waving them in the air.

Torie tugged on Ellie’s hand. “Mommy, the man gots a doggy. Can I pet the doggy? Can I?”

“I … I don’t know.” Her head spun. By coming back to Potter Creek, she’d assumed her path might cross Arnie’s again—if he was still living in the area. But she’d thought that would be a long shot. To find her former love still at the ranch so many years after his brother’s reckless driving had paralyzed and nearly killed Arnie shocked her. She’d expected …

She shook her head. She had no idea what she’d expected.

But she hadn’t expected the familiar fluttery feeling around her heart or the sense that she’d given up something special by leaving Potter Creek eight years ago. No matter that Arnie, barely out of a medically induced coma, had told her to leave. To go away. She’d deserted him when he most needed her. She’d broken the trust they’d had in each other.

Torie broke away from the group. She made a dash for Arnie and his dog.

Before Ellie could call her back, Torie slid to a stop right in front of Arnie.

“Hey, mister, can I pet your doggy? I love doggies. Does he like little girls? Can I pet him, huh?”

Arnie quirked his lips into a half smile. “Everyone can pet Sheila, but you have to do it one at a time.

Okay?”

Not waiting for additional encouragement, Torie squatted down in front of Sheila, who sat calmly while the child stroked her head and ran her fingers through her golden coat.

“She’s bea-u-tiful,” Torie crooned.

The other children edged forward. Ellie moved with them until she was only a few paces away from Arnie. Unconsciously, she fingered the silver cross she wore around her neck, a gift from her father the year she graduated from eighth grade. Only after Torie was born and Ellie had made her peace with the Lord had she begun to wear it again.

“Hello, Arnie.” Her mouth as dry as the sandbox at school, she spoke in a voice that was little more than a whisper.

His attention remained focused on Torie for a moment before he lifted his head. He squinted as he looked up at Ellie. There seemed to be no spark of recognition in his eyes. Only a blank stare.

“I’m sorry my daughter was so forward. I’m afraid she’s quite an animal lover.” Reaching for Torie, she said, “Give someone else a turn now, honey.”

Awareness flickered in his eyes, and he shot the child an assessing look. “Same red hair. I should’ve known.” His voice was as flat as his eyes, yet she read an angry denunciation in them.

“It’s been a long time,” she said.

“Yeah.” No smile. A single word in bitter acknowledgment.

The sting of his response forced her to look away. She had no reason to expect anything more, but it still hurt. “Who wants to pet Sheila next? Remember to be gentle.”

She drew Torie to her side, a protective hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

“Sheila’s a very nice doggy, Mommy. Maybe someday we could have a doggy, too?”

“We’ll see.”

As Carson approached Sheila in his wheelchair, Arnie’s brows tugged together in apparent confusion. He glanced back at Ellie.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“I’m teaching at Ability Counts Preschool. I started this week. Four-year-olds.”

“That’s ironic, isn’t it?”

Before she could explain how she’d worked hard to earn her degree in early childhood education and added an elementary school teaching credential to her résumé, Arnie’s younger brother, Daniel, sauntered out of the barn. Easily recognizable with his long legs and the cocky way he wore his hat on the back of his head, he called to the youngsters.

“Hey, what’s taking you guys so long? Isn’t anybody planning to go riding today?”

Instantly, the children lost interest in Sheila. They walked, ran and wheeled their way to the barn. In a quick maneuver, Arnie turned his wheelchair around and drove purposely after them.

Vanna and Ellie followed more slowly. A woman in her late sixties, Vanna stood nearly six feet tall and wore her gray hair closely cropped. But it was her smile and obvious love for all “her children” that endeared her to those who attended the preschool as well as their parents.

“The two young men hosting us have been a wonderful help to the school,” Vanna said. “Arnie’s on our board of directors, a very valuable resource. He’s also on the Bozeman Paralympics board. He’s trying to start a regional program to train local teenagers with physical disabilities for Western riding events. All the organization offers currently are English-style equestrian events, which leaves some of our kids without an event that appeals to them.”

At some level, Ellie wasn’t surprised that Arnie was involved with programs for people with disabilities. Of the two brothers, Arnie had been the serious, solid one, often at odds with his wilder, more rambunctious brother.

As a nineteen-year-old, Ellie had been stretching her wings, ready to try anything, while Arnie generally watched with amusement as she tried to break her neck with some half-baked stunt Daniel had cooked up.

Arnie, in his quiet way, had given her balance when she needed it. She hadn’t had that anymore when she first moved away to Spokane, to her regret.

Arnie and Daniel separated the two groups of youngsters. Daniel took his clutch of four-year-olds into the corral to ride, while Arnie lined up his kids for a lesson in grooming horses.

Needing to keep her distance from Arnie, not wanting to feel that tingle of excitement or the slashing pain of guilt, Ellie followed Daniel into the corral. He introduced the children to Marc, an older teenager who would assist the kids.

Daniel turned to Ellie. “If you can help out, that’d be …” He stopped midsentence and frowned. “Ellie?”

At his recognition, her first smile since she arrived at the ranch lifted her lips. “The bad penny has returned.”

“Hey, no, it’s great you’re back.” He glanced toward the barn and frowned. He hesitated. “Does Arnie know?”

“Yes, we’ve said hello.” Barely. His greeting had been less than enthusiastic, which she should have expected.

With the ease of a working cowboy, Daniel picked up Carson and hefted him into a special saddle on a sorrel. He began securing the grinning boy so he couldn’t fall off. “Yeah, well, that’s Arnie for you. The quiet brother. I know who’ll really be glad to see you again.”

“Who’s that?” Most of her high school friends had moved away, and she’d lost track of them.

He instructed Carson to sit tight until everyone had mounted. “Mindy. You know, Aunt Martha’s grandniece?

She’s Mindy O’Brien now.” He stood a little taller, and his chest puffed out with pride.

Ellie’s eyes popped open and her jaw dropped. “You married Mindy?” A couple of years older than Ellie, Mindy had helped her learn to knit one long-ago summer, when Mindy was visiting her aunt.

“Yep. Tied the knot last spring.” He bent a little closer to her. “We’re expecting a baby come the end of the year.”

She gasped with delight and covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, that’s wonderful! We were friends only that one summer, but I remember her well.” She glanced around. “Is she here now?”

“Nope. She manages Aunt Martha’s Knitting and Notions shop. She’ll be back in time for supper.”

Daniel moved on to boost Torie into the saddle of a buckskin who’d been waiting patiently for a rider. Her skinny, bare legs poked almost straight out to the sides.

“What’s my horse’s name?” Torie asked.

“This is Patches. He’ll take real good care of you.”

“I like Patches!”

As Ellie helped Shane mount, she promised herself she’d stop by the knitting shop as soon as she could find the time. It’d be great to see Mindy again. She certainly hadn’t expected her friend to return to Potter Creek after she’d gone back to Pittsburgh without saying goodbye to anyone.

Then again, when Ellie left Potter Creek, she hadn’t expected to return home to stay, either.

But fate—and in Ellie’s case, a good dose of stupidity—

had changed the best-laid plans. An unintended pregnancy plus a man who had no intention in being a father changed a lot in a woman’s life.

She sincerely prayed this current change was one for the better.

Chapter Two

Talk about being skewered by a wild bull!

That evening on the back porch of the ranch house, Arnie forked the three T-bone steaks he’d barbecued onto a serving platter. He’d spent the better part of the afternoon thinking about Ellie James and how she’d showed up out of nowhere. He could’ve been knocked over by a newborn calf.

She taught handicapped kids.

She’d walked out on him after the accident, unable to face life with a cripple. Probably a good decision, he admitted. The best thing for her. But not for him, he thought selfishly.

Was she living some sort of a twisted penance now? Forcing herself to care for those who repulsed her?

She had a daughter, a beautiful sprite of a child with Ellie’s lush red hair that captured sunbeams and the same hint of freckles across her nose.

Where was her husband? The child’s father?

Arnie had no answers to his questions and assured himself that he didn’t want any. Ancient history. Better to leave it that way.

Daniel pushed open the screen door. “Hey, bro, Mindy’s got the salad and rolls on the table. Are we gonna eat those steaks sometime tonight, or are you gonna let Sheila scarf ‘em down all by herself?”

“I’m coming.” With the serving platter across his lap, he rolled into the kitchen. Always his faithful companion, Sheila was right beside him, her toenails clicking on the tile. She’d get her share of steak on the bone he’d give her after dinner.

“Oh, those look delicious.” Mindy was already seated at the round oak table, the same table where Arnie and Daniel had eaten since their childhood. The same table where their drunken father had yelled and railed at them for no particular reason and had sometimes slapped them silly.

Daniel, a rebel at heart, had always gotten the worst of it.

But those days were long gone, and even better days lay ahead.

Blonde and blue-eyed, Mindy had had a certain glow about her since she’d married Daniel. That glow had blossomed even more once she discovered she was pregnant. Having lost a child from her first marriage, she cherished the new life growing in her.

A stab of envy zinged Arnie right in his solar plexus. Why did Ellie have to come back to Potter Creek, reminding him of all the things he’d never have, like a wife and children of his own?

He selected a steak for himself, put it on his plate and passed the platter to Mindy.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do when you move into your new house,” Mindy said. “You’d better promise to come here for dinner every night.”

“You only say that because you want me to be your kitchen slave,” Arnie teased.

She laughed. “Never a slave. A highly valued chef is closer to the truth. And a great brother-in-law,” she added.

“I vote for the slave part.” Daniel plopped the third steak on his plate.

Arnie snorted. He reached for Daniel’s hand and Mindy’s, and they linked hands with each other. Arnie bowed his head. “Dear Lord, thank You once again for the food You have provided. Bless us and keep us safe, including little Rumpelstiltskin, who’s growing in Mindy’s tummy. Amen.”

Choking, Mindy grabbed for her glass of water. “We’re not going to name our baby Rumpelstiltskin!” she croaked.

“Well, you’d better come up with something better pretty soon.” Cutting into his steak, he gave Mindy a wink. “Uncle Arnie is growing quite fond of little

Rumple.”

Laughing, she shook her head. They ate in comfortable silence for a while; then Daniel asked Mindy, “How was the shop today?”

“Busy for a Friday. The knitting and needlepoint club is getting ready for the church’s Autumn Craft Fair. All the ladies want to have items to sell to help raise money for the church. Baby caps and sweaters are the most popular for the knitters. I had to place a new order for baby yarn this afternoon.”

“Sounds good. My wife, the entrepreneur.” Daniel forked another bite of meat into his mouth and talked around it. “Hey, I forgot to tell you. Ellie James is back in town.”

For a frozen moment, Arnie held his knife poised over his steak.

“Ellie? I remember her,” Mindy said. “Is she here to stay or just visiting her mother?”

“I guess she’s here to stay. She’s got a job with the preschool that comes out for Friday riding lessons. She was with them this morning.”

Mindy turned to Arnie. “She was such a fun person. So energetic I could barely keep up with her. She used to hang out with your crowd.”

Keeping his eyes focused on his dinner, Arnie nodded as he cut his steak. “Yeah, she hung out with us.” And as she got older, she wasn’t just hanging out. Mindy had been gone before Ellie and he had become a couple. She wouldn’t have known how Ellie had kicked the possibility of a future together to the curb when she cut out for Spokane.

“Well, isn’t that interesting?” Mindy’s suddenly chirpy, singsong voice grated on Arnie’s nerves. “Maybe we can all get together again. It’d be fun to double-date sometime.”

He turned on Mindy, glaring at her, his pulse thundering in his ears. “That’s not gonna happen. Not ever.”

Just because Ellie had moved back to Potter Creek did not mean he had to see her. Or think about her. Or remember the numbing pain in his chest he’d lived with since she left.

Nope. He intended to stay far away from Ellie James.

He imagined she felt the same way about him.

The house where Ellie grew up, just outside of Potter Creek, was a one-story white farmhouse with bedrooms added onto the back, a covered porch along the front and a mudroom stuck onto one side like a wart. A detached, oversize garage and workshop had served to shelter farm equipment, and a small barn and corral had once housed Ellie’s horse, Samson, but had remained unused for years.

After Ellie’s father died two years ago, her mother had leased out all the surrounding farmland, retaining only the one acre where the house and outbuildings stood.

With a sigh of relief to be home, Ellie parked her compact car near the side entrance. As she had expected, the first week of school had been a challenging one.

Seeing Arnie this morning had been even more difficult.

He hadn’t been at all pleased to see her. Anger had simmered right below the surface of his detached manner toward her. Rightfully so, she admitted.

She’d been the one to leave. She’d started a new life hundreds of miles away. She’d felt so guilty about what she had done, she’d made some foolish mistakes.

None of which meant she had forgotten Arnie.

He’d told her to leave more than once.

Torie popped open the back door of the car. “I gotta tell Grandma BarBar about my horse.” Slamming the door closed, she raced up the steps and into the house to relate her adventures to her grandmother Barbara.

Briefcase in hand, Ellie followed at a more leisurely pace.

“… rode a horse named Patches around and around. I kept saying ‘Giddy up,’ but the man wouldn’t let Patches run fast.” Torie paused only briefly to take a breath. “Then another man gave us brushes, and we brushed and brushed a horse. The horse was very dusty. That made Carson sneeze.”

Sitting in the kitchen, at the long white-pine table, Grandma BarBar listened to Torie’s tale, nodding where appropriate and making encouraging noises. A little overweight, Barbara wore wire-rimmed glasses, and her hair had lost most of the auburn color it once had. The permed curls were nearly all gray.

Ellie set her briefcase on the counter and idly checked the day’s mail, which her mother had dropped in the woven basket.

“The man with the brushes showed us how to clean the icky stuff out of the horse’s hoof. He had a doggy he let me pet, and he said he had to sit in a wheelchair all the time ‘cause his legs didn’t work anymore. I told him Carson’s legs didn’t work, either, but I still liked him.”

Barbara lifted her head. “Ellen? Where did the school take the children to ride?”

Without glancing toward her mother, Ellie tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “Turns out it was the O’Brien ranch. I’d been so busy all week, I hadn’t thought to ask Vanna where we were going.’“

“The man in the wheelchair was real nice, Mommy.”

“Yes, honey, I know.” Ellie returned the mail to the basket. Bills and a newsletter from the agricultural extension service were of no interest to her.

“It was Arnie O’Brien, wasn’t it?” Barbara said, a stunned expression on her face.

A guilty flush warmed Ellie’s cheeks. “Yes, Arnie was helping the children. So was his brother. Daniel’s married now, and they’re expecting a baby.”

“Mommy, if I learn to ride a horse really, really, really good, can I have my very own horse? Please, can I? I would loooove to have my own horse.”

“I’m sure you would, honey. But horses are expensive and take a lot of care.” Working in the child care business was not exactly a lucrative profession, though it should be. What made it ideal for Ellie was the opportunity to work with mainstreamed handicapped kids and live at home with her mother, mostly rentfree. Being near her mother, who’d been depressed since she’d become a widow, was an added bonus. Ellie hoped having an exuberant child around would lift her spirits.

“We could ask the man in the wheelchair to come take care of my horse. He was very nice.”

Ellie swallowed hard. Not a good plan, sweetie.

“Little Miss Chatterbox,” Barbara said, “why don’t you go wash up? It’s almost supper time, and I want to talk with your mother.”

Torie’s slender shoulders slumped. “I know. You want to talk about grown-up things.”

“Go on, Torie,” Ellie said, although she wasn’t eager to pursue the topic her mother no doubt had in mind. “Wash your hands and face, and don’t forget to use soap.”

Skipping and hopping, Torie did as she’d been told.

“I’d better go clean up, too,” Ellie said, eager to avoid any discussion about Arnie.

“I do hope you won’t be taking up with that young man again.”

Ellie bristled. “No worries on that score, Mother. I doubt that he’d be interested.” Her actions eight years ago had shut that door permanently. Actions her mother had advised and encouraged.

“Just as well,” Barbara sniffed.

After Arnie’s accident, Ellie’s mother had encouraged Ellie to move away from Arnie. Barbara’s brother, Bob, had been born with cerebral palsy and was severely handicapped. Watching a loved one suffer pain and humiliation haunted Barbara. She didn’t want her daughter to endure the same difficult experience.

To her shame and regret, her mother’s constant concern about Arnie’s future had added to Ellie’s ultimate decision to leave Potter Creek and move to Spokane.

The first of a long litany of mistakes she’d made that had changed her life.

With the Lord’s help, she’d turned her life around. But that didn’t mean that a proud man like Arnie would ever be able to forgive her for turning her back on him.

Early Saturday morning, a gang of volunteer construction workers showed up at the O’Brien ranch. Most of the guys were from Potter Creek Community Church. As the half-dozen pickups pulled to a stop, Arnie rolled out to meet them.

“I’ve got a big pot of coffee ready,” he announced. “And Daniel went into town early for fresh doughnuts. Help yourselves.”

Like a pack of ravenous chowhounds, the men gathered around the coffeepot on what would someday be Arnie’s back porch. Their wives and girlfriends would show up around noontime with picnic baskets full of lunch makings. Building his new house was like an old-fashioned barn raising, and he was grateful for every bit of help he got.

Since Daniel had announced he was going to marry Mindy, Arnie had planned to move out of the old ranch house and into his own home. Now that Mindy was expecting, providing his brother and his wife some extra space was even more important.

Given the cost of construction, bringing the plan to fruition would have been impossible without the help of his friends. In fact, half the community had lent a hand in one way or another.

Coffee and doughnut in hand, Tim Johnson, a licensed contractor and good friend, sauntered over to Arnie. “We’re gonna start putting up the exterior plywood sheathing today. If that goes well, next week we could be adding the siding.”

“That’s terrific, Tim. You know how much I appreciate your help. All the guys’ help.”

“No problem. If the situation was reversed, you’d be there for us.”

“I’d sure try to be.” But Arnie knew he’d never have a chance to return the favor, at least not in the same way.

“I got my chimney guy to say he’d come next week so we can get the flashings in before the siding goes up. He’s giving you a good price.”

“Thanks, Tim. I appreciate it.” One of the lessons he’d learned after the accident was that he’d never be as independent as he had been before. For some things, he’d have to rely on others. That had been a hard truth to swallow, and it still didn’t go down real smoothly.

Daniel came striding across the distance from the barn, a tool belt around his waist. Apparently he had finished mucking out the horse stalls and was ready to go to work on the house.

“Hey, you guys,” Daniel said to the men still hanging around the coffeepot. “You can’t stand around drinking coffee and eatin’ doughnuts all day. We gotta get this house sealed up tight before the first snow flies.”

“Yeah, yeah. We know, Danny boy.”

“Hey, who made you the boss?”

Amid a lot of friendly joshing and gently barbed comments, the men set to work. Guys grunted as they lifted heavy loads of plywood. Hammers banged nails home. Orders were shouted out. Power saws whined.

The heat of the day rose. Sweat darkened the back of the men’s shirts and dripped from their chins.

Arnie wheeled his chair up the temporary ramp into his living room and looked around. His pride, his gratitude, were tempered by the knowledge that he’d never share this house with someone who could be his partner in making it a home.

A sense of betrayal rose bitter in his throat.

Ellie!

Even knowing she’d done the right thing to leave him, he couldn’t quite accept that the woman who had cried at his bedside and held his hand for five solid days after the accident had actually walked out of his life. She hadn’t stayed to fight for their love.

Now she was back.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about her.