Love for the Ages

This is a romance story where a young former Marine comes home after multiple deployments in the Middle East to take over the family ranch following the death of his father. There are many surprises ahead, including the red headed "Queen of the Valley".

I hope you enjoy the journey.

All characters and places are fictional and all persons engaging in sexual situations are 18 years old or older.

Special thanks to my editor, RandyD1369, for all of his personal time that he spends reading and editing my works.

*****

Ty drove up the long, winding driveway between the highway and ranch house. It had been a few years since he'd been home. His mother's funeral, just before his first deployment had been the last time. Three years later he had received word that his father had also passed away while Ty was on his last deployment. He hadn't been able to make it home for his father's funeral, but his father's lawyer had contacted him and told him that his father had left the ranch and all his possessions to Ty. The ranch was currently being run by his father's long time ranch foreman, Augustus Blake. Ty didn't recognize the name. He had always just known the foreman as Gus, which he now realized must have been the short version of Augustus.

After his last deployment, Ty's six year hitch was up, and although he had thought about reenlisting, he did miss being home and felt it was his duty to carry on his father's legacy and become the fourth generation Lansing to head the Rocking-L Ranch.

Ty pulled up in front of the ranch house and stepped out of the truck. He immediately recognized the ageless Gus walking up from the barn. Ty smiled and walked toward him.

"Hey, Gus," Ty said, holding out his hand.

"Well son, I hardly recognize the skinny little kid that left here years ago. You've grown up and become a man."

Ty had indeed grown up. When he left the ranch just days after his 18th birthday to join the Marines, he had been a tall skinny kid. Now, he was returning a tall and well built young man. His already tanned skin was made even more so by much time spent in arid deserts, his shoulders, chest, and arms had filled out so that his 6'3" frame carried 240 pounds of muscle. His face was clean shaven and ruggedly handsome; his light brown hair, closely cropped.

"Yes sir, I guess I have, a little. So tell me, Gus, how are things?" Ty asked, getting right down to business.

"We had a pretty good year," Gus said. "We had good calves, the grass has stayed good, both in the valley and in the upper pastures. The water's been good and steady so I'd say everything is on track as it should be. I've handled all the books, paid the bills, bought and sold cattle as I've seen fit since your dad passed, but I've accounted for every penny and I'm sure you'll want to see that."

"I never had a worry in the world about you running the place, Gus," Ty said, placing his hand on the older man's shoulder. "I'm just glad you were here to keep things going. When I was 18, man, I couldn't wait to shake off the dust of this town, this life, and go see the world. Now that I've seen a fair part of it, I couldn't wait to get back home and hear the bawling of cattle, the sound of the river, and see the views from the hills."

"It's ingrained in all you Lansing boys," Gus said. "The love of the land, the cattle, and the horses. It's who you are. You probably never knew, but your father did the same thing when he was about 18. He didn't join the service, but he took a few years, moved out of the state, got a 'regular' job and wanted to see the sights. The land called him back, then he met your mother, and the rest was history."

Ty certainly did not know about his father's wanderings. In fact, they had argued mightily when Ty decided he wanted to join the Marine Corp. He figured now that he and his father had probably had those same arguments. History repeating itself.

"Well, I'm back now, Gus, and I intend to make this my life's work, but I also know how much I don't know, and I'm going to lean heavily on you. If I'm screwing up, don't be afraid to tell me. I know the paperwork says I own all of this, but it's as much your life's work as mine, so I want you to teach me how best to run it, and know that you don't ever have to worry about your position here. As far as I'm concerned, this is as much your home as mine, and you're welcome here for as long as you like."

Gus reached up and wiped at his eye. "I admit, I was a little worried that you might come in here and try to just 'take over'. I'll help you, son, and together, just like with your father, we'll keep this place a profitable ranch. Can you still ride?"

"I haven't been on a horse since I left the ranch six years ago," Ty admitted. "I did ride a camel once, over there. Does that count?" he grinned at Gus.

"I wish I'd seen that," Gus laughed. "Well go on in, get settled, and tomorrow, we'll get you back in the saddle and we'll ride the range. I'll explain what all we're doing. I know you've ridden every inch of this place, but you'll see it differently now, I promise you," Gus said.

"I look forward to it, Gus," Ty said, shaking the man's hand again before getting his bag from the truck and heading into the main house.

When he opened the door and stepped in, it was like those six years had just evaporated. Everything was as he remembered it. He walked through the house, surprised at the little details he remembered. Knickknacks his mother had, the squeaking plank in the board floor of the hall way. He walked to his parent's room, the master bedroom. He reached for the knob, but just before his hand touched it, he stopped and just stood there for a minute. Finally, he lowered his hand, turned and went to his old bedroom down the hall.

*****

Ty was used to rising early, so he was up before the sun. Instead of utilities, this morning, he was dressed in a long sleeve Wrangler button up denim shirt with pearl snap buttons, a new pair of Wrangler jeans, and a pair of Justin, low heel, pull on work boots. He headed to the kitchen where he smelled coffee brewing and eggs and bacon frying.

"Morning," Ty said as he entered the kitchen.

"Morning," Gus said without turning away from the stove. "Eggs and bacon okay?"

"As long as they're not powdered," Ty said, flashing back to MREs.

"No sir, fresh from the hen-house," Gus said. "We have about 25 laying hens and they keep us in plenty of eggs. The bacon is also from hogs raised here so we're pretty much self-sustaining. We also put in about 2 acres worth of garden since you left. We grow cucumber, lettuce, cabbage, peppers, squash, okra, beans, corn, carrots, and potatoes."

"Wow, y'all really have been branching out," Ty said, getting a coffee cup from the cupboard and filling it from the pot.

"Sit down," Gus ordered. "It's ready."

"Yes Sir," Ty said, pulling a chair out and sitting down at the table.

Ty and Gus ate in relative silence as men tend to do. After eating, Ty took his plate, cup, and silverware to the sink where he washed, rinsed, and dried them before replacing them back in their place in the cupboard. He then did the same for Gus' dishes. Finally, he washed the pan used for the cooking.

The sun was just coming up as the two men headed outside. Gus grabbed his old felt hat from the hat rack by the door. Ty was surprised to see his old white Stetson straw hat still on the rack. He picked it up and placed it on his head, surprised it still fit, and headed out after Gus.

As they entered the barn, Gus turned to Ty. "You remember that leggy little buckskin colt your dad bought just before you left?"

"Yeah, I do. I loved the color on him with the four black stockings. Whatever happened to him?"

"Take a look," Gus said, pointing toward a stall with a wooden sign hanging above the door. The single word burned into the wood was "Buck".

Ty walked over to the stall and looked through the barred upper half of the stall door. The horse was magnificent. He had to be at least 17 hands tall. He was lean and muscular and looked like he was built for power and speed. He had an intelligent look about him and he surveyed Ty before stretching his nose forth. Ty reached through the bars and let him sniff his hand before turning it to lightly scratch his nose. The big horse came closer, pressing his head lightly against the bars, letting Ty reach back to scratch further down his neck.

"He remembers you," Gus said knowingly.

"How could he? We barely had him a month before I left," Ty asked.

"Don't you be fooled boy," Gus said. "They talk about the memory of elephants, but a horse remembers just as well. I've seen horses separated for many years recognize each other, as well as horses and cowboys, or girls, that haven't seen each other for years, but they know them as soon as they see or smell them. You mark my word, he remembers you."

"Can I ride him?" Ty asked.

"That is the question," Gus said, mysteriously. "Your tack is still in the tack room, so saddle him up and let's see."

Ty went to the familiar tack room which was exactly as he remembered it. He saw his mother's saddle sitting in it's usual place. There wasn't as speck of dust on it, as though she had ridden it yesterday. His father's old black leather saddle was the same way. Gus obviously still took great care of them, keeping them cleaned and the leather oiled to prevent cracking. Looking to his left, he saw his saddle, blanket, and bridle. The saddle was a roping saddle made from light brown leather with hand tooling. He had received it for his 17th birthday. The blanket he had bought on a rare family trip to a Navajo India reservation. Picking up the tack, he headed back to Buck's stall.

Ty hung the bridle on the hook by the stall door and sat the saddle down on the floor. He grabbed a curry comb from the box in the stable aisle, and opened the door to the stall. He eased in slowly, talking low and soothingly to the big stallion.

"Hey there, Buck," he said, "remember me, boy?"

He reached out with his empty hand, and ran it along the horse's sleek neck. He then took the comb and started to lightly brush along his neck, moving back over his left front shoulder, then down his side and over his left rear hip. He continued brushing the hair, especially where the saddle would sit, making sure there was nothing that would cause an irritation. Gus looking on approvingly, proud to see that Ty still knew how to care for a horse, before heading on down the aisle to prepare his own mount.

After Buck was brushed down, Ty retrieved the saddle blanket and brought it up, showing Buck what it was, before swinging it up and over the horse's back, smoothing it out before doing the same with the saddle. All this time Buck had stood seemingly indifferent to what was happening. Looking around only occasionally to get his nose scratched.

Once the saddle was on and cinched down, Ty put the bridle on and taking the reins, walked the big stallion out of the stall and down the concrete aisle, his metal horse shoes clopping loudly in the early morning stillness of the ranch.

Gus was already outside, having saddled his familiar old blue roan. The horse was probably ten years old, but still looked to be in fine shape. Gus sat in the saddle, oddly, with his rope out, coils in his left hand, and a loop already shook out in his right. Ty started to ask, but shook it off and walked up beside Buck. He stuck his foot in the stirrup and pulled himself aboard.

As soon as his butt hit the saddle he felt Buck's powerful muscles tense and bunch up. Ty had the sudden gut-wrenching feeling that this was expected. Gus' previous cryptic comment, and the fact that he stood ready with a rope suddenly all made sense. Gus was expecting a rodeo. He was expecting the powerful horse to buck Ty off, and Gus was prepared to chase the horse down and lasso him before he ran off and got the saddle or bridle caught up on something and hurt himself.

"Easy boy," Ty said quickly, but soothingly. "Easy now."

Buck stopped. A shudder seemed to go through him, but Ty felt him relax. His ears, which had gone backward when Ty first stepped aboard, now came forward in a relaxed yet still alert posture. He took a deep breath which Ty could feel spreading his legs wider as the horse's large chest expanded, before blowing out through his nose in a snort. Then he became still and relaxed. Ty lightly touched his heels to Buck's flanks while releasing the pressure on the reins and Buck started forward, away from the barn and toward the wide open valley below. He stepped out in a smooth, distance eating gait. Ty could only marvel at this big beautiful creature as he leaned forward and patted the horse on the neck.

"I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it," Gus said riding up alongside.

"That he didn't pile me in the yard?" Ty asked, his eyebrow raised.

"Yep," Gus admitted without shame. "That ornery horse has pitched every hand that tried to ride him with the exception of your dad, who saddle broke him. We've had champion bronc riders who couldn't stay on him more than three seconds. A more powerful horse I've never seen in all my life. He tossed a couple of those cowboys 20 feet or more."

"Well thanks for the heads up," Ty said sarcastically, but he wasn't upset. This was the way it was with cowboys. Nobody cut anybody else any slack, you were only as good as your abilities to work and ride, and little else mattered. They didn't care care what someone had done, or who he had been, everyone got a clean slate when he came to a new brand, and how he stacked up made him someone the other hands would fight for, or they'd send him on down the road with his tail between his legs. It might seem ruthless, but being a cowboy, even in these modern times, was a hard and thankless job and everyone wanted to know that the guy working beside you was willing to take it to the limit to get the job done. There were no free rides, not even, or rather especially, not for the boss.

*****

Gus spent the day riding with Ty, showing him some of the improvements that had been made since he left. New irrigation that brought water from the river to the pastures, which improved the grass quality and thereby improved the cattle as they had more to eat with less distance to walk to get it. They saw the garden and the smaller separate hog farm, which luckily was in an area where the smell seldom made it up to the ranch houses. They rode into some of the higher pastures where the herds were moved during the summer to take advantage of the lush grass left by the melting snow and the creeks that came down from the high hills had the coldest, freshest water he'd ever tasted. At every stop, Gus introduced the working hands to the new boss. Handshakes were exchanged, during which time each sized up the other, it was a cowboy thing. Few cowboys would work for a boss that wasn't willing to put in the work and earn their respect. Just the fact he was riding the buckskin got him some respectful looks from those who had tried and failed to ride him.

At one point, they rode up a steep trail that Ty remembered well. It led to a high mesa that looked over the entire valley below. He used to ride up there often as a teen to just sit, look, and think. Today, as they came out on the mesa, the view before them was all he remembered and more. It's as if he was seeing it with new eyes. He could see the three main ranches that made up the valley. Their Rocking-L Ranch at the head of the valley, on the east side was the Lazy-A of the Anderson family, and closer, on the west side was the B-Bar-B which had belonged to the Baker family, but he seemed to remember in one of mother's last letters to him, that she had said the B-Bar-B had been sold.

"So who owns the B-Bar-B now?" Ty asked Gus as he looked toward the ranch complex to the south.

"Ah, yeah, I didn't know if you'd heard. Abel Baker decided to sell out. He sold to a second generation Irish family by the name of O'Shea. They bought the ranch with all it's cattle, although in the past few years Baker had been buying less and selling more so the herd's smaller than it has been in the past. Besides the cattle, O'Shea also brought in some sheep, so that's a first for the valley. Now that you're back, and taking over the ranch, you will need to call on Anderson and O'Shea so they know who you are and that you're the man to talk to when it comes to Rocking-L Ranch business," Gus concluded.

"Yeah, I hadn't thought of that. That'll give me a good excuse to ride some more tomorrow," Ty said with a grin.

"That it will boy, that it will."

After taking one last look, Ty and Gus turned their horses back to the trail off the mesa and headed home.

*****

It was almost 10:00 the next morning when Ty rode the big buckskin into the yard of the Lazy-A Ranch. He quickly spotted old Jim Anderson on a dappled gray gelding. He was watching two of his hands working in a corral, branding a calf.

"Mr. Anderson," Ty said as he rode up. "I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Ty Lansing," Ty said, holding out his hand.

"Sure do son," Anderson said, shaking the offered hand, "though if you hadn't said the name, I don't believe I'd have recognized you. You've grown up. I'm sorry about your dad, you have my condolences. He was a fine man and neighbor," he said gruffly.

"He always spoke highly of you as well," Ty said, honestly. "I just wanted to stop by and let you know that I'm back and will be taking over operation of the ranch, and Gus will be be staying on as foreman. I hope to be able to learn a lot from him as he seems to have done quite well before and since my father's death."

"That's an uncommonly wise decision for one your age," Anderson said. "Gus is a top hand and there's nothing about cattle or ranching he doesn't know. I'll tell you straight, I heard you were coming back to take over the ranch, and a lot of young fellers think they know it all and ain't got time for us old folks, and if you'd come in and got rid of Gus, I was standing by to snatch him up and quick. I hate that I'm losing that opportunity, but I'm more glad that I'm going to be neighbors with a young man smart enough to realize he's still got things to learn. If you need anything, call on me."

"Same here Mr. Anderson, if there's any way the Rocking-L can be of service, you be sure to let me know," Ty said.

The two ranchers talked a little more, then Ty announced he was headed over to meet the O'Sheas. Mr. Anderson bade him farewell and Ty and Buck headed off, west, across the valley.

*****

As Ty rode toward the B-Bar-B he noticed a palomino colored horse standing, head down, eating grass behind a low hill. The horse had a saddle and bridle on and in one stirrup there was a boot. Ty quickly changed course and at the same time, untied the rope from his saddle in case the horse spooked or bolted. As he approached, the horse raised it's head, it's ears alert, it's eyes large and nostrils distended. Ty stopped Buck several yards away, dropping one rein to the ground. The trained horse would stand there "ground hitched" until the rider returned for it.

"Easy there," Ty said quietly as he slowly approached the horse. The horse seemed ready to bolt, but Ty's soothing calls seemed to keep it rooted to the spot. Reaching out, he grabbed the rein and then he quickly looked the horse over for any obvious injury. Seeing none, he reached up and pulled the boot from the stirrup. It was small, either a young boy or a girl. The freshly shod hooves of the mare had made plain tracks in the earth, so Ty decided to backtrack her and see if he could find the missing rider.

Ty led the mare back to where Buck stood ground hitched. He grabbed Buck's rein and swung into the saddle, keeping hold of the mare's rein and pulled her along behind. The tracks were fresh and easy to follow. Ty backtracked the mare for nearly two miles up into the hills before spying someone sitting on a log, one leg stretched out, missing a boot. The side of the rider's jeans were dirty and stained, and the multicolored long sleeve shirt was also dirty and torn at the shoulder. The next thing he saw was flame red hair, disheveled, with bits of grass and leaves in it. A startlingly beautiful face, in profile. As he approached, she turned toward the sound of the horses' hooves and he saw, even at this distance, striking green eyes. Getting nearer, he saw her pale face was covered with a smattering of light red freckles across her cheeks and nose. Her face was streaked with sweat and dust and it looked like her bottom lip was bleeding slightly. He dismounted, dropping Buck's rein and tying the mare to a tree limb before grabbing his canteen from his saddle horn and a clean bandanna from his saddle bag. He hurried to her side.