Since I Fell for You

A stranger stirred him from his reverie by poking his arm accidentally. A voice on the intercom woke him further still from a disturbing dream. A gaunt child… a wounded horse. Zane Walker’s eyes blinked open, focusing on the scene around him. People had settled in, waiting for the moment of touchdown. The plane was landing in Reno in a few minutes; landing gear had long ago been lowered, turbulence created by heavy air pushing up from the mountains ringing the city hadn’t even bothered him this time. Usually his stomach rocked and rolled when the airplane was tossed around as it started its descent. Not this time.

This time he woke with the boy’s face in his foggy mind. How long had it been sitting in his subconscious? He needed to just forget it. What was it about anyway? He braced for impact.

A feather touch as the ground came up to meet the plane.

A harder bump as all the wheels made definite contact.

Brakes squealed.

Reverse thrust of the jet engine’s exhaust provided deceleration and Zane marveled that the airplane had safely landed forcing him to exhale that breath he’d been holding. Air travel was necessary occasionally but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Once he’d collected his bag from the overhead bin, Zane followed other weary travelers off the plane and out of the airport. His truck was in long-term parking and once on the road, he was finally able to relax.

He’d checked his phone messages before leaving the airport and there was one that confused him: Vaughn Moody down by Gardnerville wanted him to shoe one of his older horses. Zane knew the horse had never been shod and it was nearly ten years old. Huh. Moody had never requested his services before even when Zane knew that a farrier was needed on that small ranch. Zane shrugged. He’d find out what the mystery was or he wouldn’t. No need to get worked up about it now.

And Sarah Jane had called about picking up a shirt for her latest squeeze at Shepler’s Western Wear in Reno. She knew he’d be going by there on his way home and could he please pick up her order?

For Pete’s sake! Pick up a shirt for some new guy she was seeing? Was she nuts? Just because they’d been good friends for a long time and just because they would do favors for one another, sure didn’t mean that he was going to pick up a gift for a man for her. Had she finally gone around the bend? There were limits to friendship and this was it for him. He stuck in an earbud and hit her number on speed dial.

Hi! How was the conference? Did you…

Listen, Janie, he broke in rudely. Are you out of your freakin’ mind?

Slight pause when he could hear her breathing. He could just see the furrowed crease between her sleek brows. About what, pray tell?

You called wanting me to pick up something at Shepler’s for some guy.

Yeah. So?

He blinked hard, trying not to explode. Hell’s bells, Janie. What am I? A delivery service? And who’s this new guy anyway?

Well, she huffed, I’m sure you really don’t care who I’m taking to that dance tonight in Minden but if you must know, it’s Ray Cooper.

Zane counted to ten. Cooper? Ray Cooper? Why he’s ten years older than you and…

Don’t start in with me, Zane Walker! I can date whomever I please. Remember what you told me last month when I dared to say anything about you going out with Tammy Reardon?

Now that’s not the same thing and…

How on God’s green earth is it not the same thing? You told me to mind my own business when I mentioned she was younger than your sister. She didn’t pause for breath. And since you give me advice all the time like a big brother, let me just say that Tammy was bragging all over town that she’d snared one of the mighty Walker brothers! What do you think about that?

His eyes darted nervously from his white knuckled grip on the steering wheel to the dirty windshield. The street was clogged with traffic from a recent downtown event and he hadn’t progressed very far trying to get out of town. He hadn’t progressed very far with this conversation either. Maybe it was time to change tactics. Out of the corner of his eye was Shepler’s, the store being debated. Okay. He’d be the bigger man here.

Janie… She was still jabbering on and on about how he was being a cradle robber when he was nearly thirty but nowhere near that maturity level. Janie! he blurted loudly.

What? He could almost see little irritated wrinkles around her steely blue eyes and a toe tapping impatiently on the floor. Shoulders hunched up around her smooth neck.

All right. I’ll go. The traffic’s so bad that I’m still in town so I’ll pick up the danged shirt. Okay? He bit off his frosty comment about why she was buying a shirt for a guy she’d just starting seeing and clamped his mouth shut. They had been good friends for years but it was sometimes hard to win an argument with Sarah Jane Breen.

Well, just forget it. I don’t want you to pick up the shirt now.

Janie, be reasonable. I’m almost to the store.

"Reasonable? Be reasonable?" He could tell her face was reddening because she squeaked the last word.

Janie, I…

Don’t Janie me. Do not pick up that shirt! I’m going to call the store and have them refuse to give it to you after all the fuss you’ve made.

I’m turning into the parking lot.

Do not pick up that shirt!

I’ve parked and am getting out of the car to walk into the store… Zane was smirking because he’d riled her up, which was kinda… fun.

I’m hanging up to call the store.

Inside the store now…

Zane Walker! You are the most infuriating man I’ve ever met! I don’t want to be your friend anymore.

That stopped him. Right inside the store. A clerk was looking at him curiously as he stood frozen, eyes wide, feet unmoving. Catching his reflection in a window, he saw a tall man with a stunned expression, hat pulled low on his forehead.

Janie, he began slowly, you don’t want to be my friend? The conversation had turned into a dark corner and he held the phone lightly with two fingers, like it was too hot to touch. Really?

That apparently stopped her too. He heard her gulp, then she cleared her throat.

…Um, Zane. We’ve gotten sidetracked from the original issue.

You started it.

What are you — five years old? Could we act like adults?

Zane smiled. Anything’s possible. Hearing her harrump loudly, he nearly laughed. How about this? Why don’t I pick up the damn shirt since I’m in the damn store and everyone is looking at me like I’m about to rob the place. I’ll bring it out to your house and we’ll behave like the adults we’re supposed to be.

She finally laughed. You can piss me off faster than a porcupine being poked. Why didn’t you just do that in the first place instead of us going a few rounds?

Not sure, he admitted. But it got my heart started. How’s yours?

See you later, Zane. Try not to drop that shirt in a mud puddle on your merry way.

See ya, Janie. It’s been fun.

The shirt wasn't the issue, he mused, on his long drive home. Traffic had finally cleared enough for him to drive through Reno, continue south to Carson City and on to Jake’s Valley where he lived. The shirt in question sat on the seat beside him. Looking it over, it was exactly the type that he always wore. A classic white Western shirt with a heavy cotton weight. Several pale blue threads were woven into a nice design on a pocket. Even the size was the same and his birthday was this weekend. Well, well. Maybe it meant something and maybe it didn’t. He’d find out soon enough.

* * *

CHAPTER 2

The gray horse in front of him was massive, probably sixteen hands high and weighed over a thousand pounds. With just one small kick, the horse could put Zane out of operation for a good long while, if not for good. He had a healthy respect for all the horses and mules he shod and insisted on the animal’s owner being on hand when the job was being done.

He’d strapped on his old leather apron that had been his grandfather’s. Jonas Walker had been a farrier as well as rancher, vet and cattleman. The old ranchers had to be jacks-of-all-trades back in those times since specialty professions weren’t very common. Zane smoothed the creased leather, ran hands down his legs to tie the straps in back. It was the start of every job for him and he didn’t feel the job would be successful unless he did it. Tradition was strong in his ranching family or was it just superstition?

His lips formed a tight line of concentration as he trimmed the hoof of the big animal. Pulled between his legs, clamped tightly, the hoof provided a kind of table for his work. Scrape… scrape. Months of impacted dirt and debris fell away as his knife smoothly chipped at it. An old straw hat kept out the sun and long boots planted firmly in the ground prevented any slippage as he continued to clean the horse’s hoof. Careful to avoid the frog, the triangular soft center of the hoof, Zane’s focus was completely on the job at hand. The job of the farrier hadn’t changed much in centuries and he relished the fact that his work was instrumental to the ranching way of life. After scraping sediment and dirt from the outside of the hoof, he used a rasp to smooth the surface and was ready for the next step.

He’d set up a small forge with an anvil nearby to heat the shoe. Sometimes it dawned on him that he carried his office with him in his truck wherever he went. A pleasant thought actually. While the horseshoe was heating, Zane thought of his earlier conversation with his mother. He’d stopped by the ranch this morning before going to his first job and his mother had met him at the door. The fiery matriarch of the mighty Walkers of Jake’s Valley, Leeny Walker wagged a finger at him, all five foot three inches of her, as she talked sternly and gave him the mother look.

It’s your birthday, son. Why can’t we have a few people over?

Ma, I ain’t twelve anymore but you don’t seem to realize it.

How about immediate family only and Sarah Jane?

Janie? Why invite her?

She paused, ran a hand through her short, gray hair. Her head tilted with a curious expression on her unlined face.

Aren’t you two good friends?

Well, sure but what if I want to bring a date?

So you’re coming…

…I didn’t say that. What if?

Leeny had sighed deeply and fixed him with the mother look again. All my sons seem to have fought it at one time or another.

Fought what? Listen, Ma, if you can’t make any sense, I’ve got to get to work.

One of these days, my darling son, your mother will make perfect sense.

Gotta go, I’m off to a job.

See you Sunday?

He blew out a resigned breath, knowing she’d continue to poke at him forever and a day until she got what she wanted. Sunday…

She waved happily and stepped back. Bye, Zane.

Pounding hard into the heated shoe, he chuckled quietly. The ringing sound of metal hitting metal was music to his ears as the shoe began to take shape. His hammer beat a syncopated rhythm on the anvil. It was as familiar as it was pleasing. His mother was pretty transparent, but not this time would he get caught up in whatever she was planning. He’d bring a new girl to the Walker gathering on Sunday and leave Sarah Jane to her own devices. After all, she was only a friend and would probably bring Ray Cooper. And who in the world likes Ray Cooper?

* * *

CHAPTER 3

Sarah Jane grit her teeth. The message left on her phone was hardly welcoming but business was business. The Avery brothers wanted her to shoe two of their horses but their invitation left much to be desired. If she hadn’t had a cancelation, she wouldn’t be heading south towards Topaz Lake at all.

"Listen, Sarah Jane. We need two of our new horses shod and Zane’s too busy. Normally, we’d wait until he was available, but we’re using