Smoketree by Jennifer Roberson Read Free Book Online Page A

the San Francisco Peaks were primarily pine. The trees were well spaced, unlike the overgrown woods I was more accustomed to. And yet I found it just as attractive, particularly on a day just warm enough to make me drowsy and more content with my lot than I had been in some time.
    I followed the trail as it curved sharply to the left and came to a four-strand wire fence. The path continued, paralleling the fence for some distance before it turned back upon itself and headed downward again. I paused and read the small metal sign hung upon the top strand: PROPERTY OF U.S. FOREST SERVICE.
    I wondered suddenly how much of the ranch adjoined government land and how near it was to the ski resort Cass had mentioned. Whatever the arrangement, the land would seem awfully attractive to a condominium developer. Smoketree could probably be sold for a terrific amount of money. I also wondered why I was wondering about any of this, as it was none of my business. I had just concluded that anything was a welcome relief from the usual twin miseries of the wreck and my highly problematic future when a jingling sound startled me out of my reverie. I spun around to see Nathan Reynolds, mounted on a big roan, approaching through the woods.
    “Didn’t mean to startle you none,” he said in his warm, slow voice.
    I waved a hand. “No, no… I was just lost in thought.” I smiled at him. “Smoketree is so lovely—are there other ranches and houses up here?”
    The big man eased his seat in the saddle. His hands braced the weight of his shoulders against the saddle horn, clasping the reins, and I heard the leather creak as the horse stomped a hoof. “No. Smoketree is the lone entry up here. The Forest Service holds the rest of it, but this ranch has been in the family for a long time. There’ve been Reynolds’s up here in the Peaks since the turn of the century. So you could say I’m mighty lucky to have a piece of all this beauty, Miss Clayton, even if it is only borrowed.”
    “Borrowed?”
    He smiled. “No man fully owns the land. He just takes out a mortgage and works it for a while, sort of a tenant for Him.” An upward nod left no room for doubt as to whom he meant. “We’ve been lucky enough to be sitting on one of the prettiest places in the country, but it isn’t really ours.”
    I gestured toward the sign on the fence. “The government land…”
    He frowned a little. “Yes, we’re surrounded by it.”
    “Don’t you feel a little like the small fish in a pond of larger ones?”
    He smiled. “So long as I’ve got a good horse under me and a roof over my head, I’m content. I don’t need to lay claim to section upon section of land.”
    “Smoketree must be worth a lot of money,” I said quietly, knowing I treaded a narrow path. “And if you lose much more than a barn—”
    “The barn is paid for,” he said calmly. “I have insurance, Miss Clayton.”
    I opened my mouth to tell him Harper had said exactly the opposite, then closed it. It wasn’t my affair. I was only a guest, and he would not appreciate my prying.
    I smiled lamely. “Good. But it will be difficult to build a barn that looks just like the first one.”
    He nodded, his blue eyes saddened, and yet he smiled. But it did little more than stretch his mouth. “Can’t be helped,” he said briefly.
    I put out a restraining hand as the horse’s blowing muzzle approached my face. “Nathan—” I stopped. I liked the man immensely and I respected his integrity as well as his pride and privacy… but I was also concerned. “Is there something wrong?”
    He smiled. “Not at all. ”
    That, I knew, was that. So I asked him about the destination of the trail we shared.
    He gestured, shifting in the saddle. “It winds all along through there, edging the Forest Service land. You can’t get lost if you keep to it. The horses have beaten it smooth, so you’ll have no trouble in those shoes.”
    I looked down at my thin leather flats. Perhaps they