Page 3 of Small Town Hero
“These critters are new here, and they’re probably a little scared, so be nice,” Ian told the dog, as they walked. Because he was alone a lot, and because he worked with animals all the time, Ian was beyond any concern about his habit of chatting with—or at—the furry contingent.
He’d grown up around dogs, cats, horses, pigs and cattle; in fact, the small but fertile ranch he lived on had belonged to his late grandparents, and he’d spent summers, weekends and holidays right here.
After college, he’d trained as a paramedic, living down south in Phoenix, and it was there that he’d met and eventually married Catherine.
As he attended to each of the other mares, leading them to their stalls and brushing them down, he thought about his ex-wife, who was a prosecuting attorney in Florida, where she’d moved after their awkward but amicable divorce.
They’d been married for five years, still living and working in Phoenix, where they’d both landed well-paying jobs.
Catherine was a good-looking woman, a natural blonde, smart and fit and very, very ambitious. Looking back, Ian wasn’t sure if he’d truly loved her, or if he’d actually loved the idea of her. After all, she was attractive, and she came with two adorable daughters, a ready-made family.
And that was what Ian had wanted most in life—a loving wife, kids, a home, a dog or two. A career that mattered.
When had the relationship begun to fall apart?
He wasn’t sure, since it had happened gradually.
His grandfather had died, and six months later, his grandmother followed.
Ian’s parents, long-divorced and very involved in their separate, fast-track lives, hadn’t bothered to attend either funeral, and the contents of the old folks’ wills probably seemed paltry to them. Too paltry to even ask about.
As it turned out, Ian had inherited everything—the ranch, significant mineral rights, and the combined life savings of two hardworking people.
He’d visited the ranch several times after they were gone, well aware that Catherine expected him to sell the place and move on.
It wasn’t that they’d needed the money; between his job as a paramedic and sometime firefighter and Catherine’s as a promising young lawyer, they’d had enough. But it eventually became apparent that their personal goals had shifted.
Even after months of soul-searching, Ian wasn’t able to give up the ranch; he had roots there, and they went deep. He wanted to live on that familiar land with Catherine and the kids, build on to the house, rebuild the weathered barn. And maybe add to their family, too.
As small as the nearby town of Copper Ridge was, there were opportunities for Catherine, as well as Ian himself. She could have set up a private practice, made new friends, traveled when time allowed.
Country life would have been good for the kids, too. They could grow up riding horses, going fishing, camping out. The less they stared at the screens on their fancy phones, the better.
From the first, though, Catherine wasn’t having it.
She’d never lived in the country, and she didn’t intend to start.
She liked cities, with all their hustle-bustle and excitement and opportunity.
And she’d changed her mind about having more children somewhere along the way, without telling Ian—deciding that the twins didn’t need siblings.
They’d been preemies, born after a very rough pregnancy, and she hadn’t wanted to take the risk—or let her career be stuck in neutral for months, if not years.
He understood but the arguments didn’t stop.
They’d yelled when the kids weren’t around and whispered furiously when they were.
Then Catherine was offered a job with a big-time law firm in a suburb of Miami, thanks to her wide network of friends from college and law school, and that was it.
With tears of both sorrow and relief, Ian and Catherine had agreed to separate legally, and follow their divergent dreams.
Catherine would take the children and move to Miami.
Ian would live on his ranch and work as a paramedic.
After a year, per their mutual agreement, they would meet on neutral ground—in New Orleans, as it turned out—and decide whether they would reconcile or file for divorce. Since neither of them wanted to live anywhere but where they were, or give up their lifestyles, they decided to end the marriage.
As divorces go, theirs was an easy one, compared to the knock-down-drag-outs Catherine had described during her early career.
The hardest part for Ian was no longer seeing his girls.
There had never been any question of custody; the twins would stay with their biological mother, though Ian could see them whenever he wanted to, and the girls, in turn, would spend time with their stepfather every summer, with the occasional shorter visit allowed, when possible and convenient for both parents.
It was all so freaking reasonable.
Except it wasn’t. It was hell, at least for Ian.
But, then, when did life ever turn out the way a person expected it to?
Mabel and Vivian, seven years old at the time of the split, had been devastated.
They’d cried in protest, each of them hanging onto one of Ian’s legs as he’d left the house in Phoenix for the last time.
He’d cried, too, once he was alone in his truck. Hell, he’d sobbed , and pounded the steering wheel with one fist. Fought the urge to go back inside, tell Catherine he’d changed his mind, that he’d sell the ranch and forget all about it, and move to Florida with her and the girls after all.
Trouble was, he couldn’t do that.
As much as he loved Catherine and his stepdaughters, he knew giving in would be a mistake. He didn’t belong in Miami, and Catherine didn’t belong on a small ranch outside a small town.
No matter who won the tug of war, they wouldn’t have been able to sustain the love they felt for each other.
It was Dub who brought Ian back from his mental sojourn, with a little whine and a nudge.
All the horses were settled in for the night, including the pair of ponies and Sultan, his gelding.
The western sky flared with flashes of orange and apricot, pink and purple.
Ian shoved a hand through his dark brown hair and drank in the beauty of that scene.
It was time to shower, change clothes and think about supper.