Chapter 4

The old man walked out to the front porch, hat in hand and impatience tugging at his gut.

He knows he surprised her, laying it all out like that. It was the only way he could gauge what she really thought of his proposal.

Harper Conlan stared fixedly out past the corral, knowing without looking which horse she took for her early morning ride. His.

The barely broken stallion, as ill tempered as he was resplendent, developed a grudging tolerance for the blue eyed woman with the gentle hands and the hair that did not taste as good as it smelled. It amazed the old man (and everyone else) that she did not fear the animal. She was so fragile when she first arrived at the ranch.

Harper sighed and looked down at the hat he held in his hands. It was so worn that it seemed to be held together by dirt and sweat. It was the last hat his wife bought him before she died years ago. Lorelai wanted to buy him a new one last Christmas. When he tried to explain why he couldn't give up the old eyesore, she brought two fingers to his lips to silence him. That's how it was between them, almost from the very beginning of their relationship. There was an eerie intuitiveness between them that he learned to appreciate. It was difficult for him, after so many years of suppressing the anguish of loss that seemed to define the last decades of his life. As damaged as she was when they first encountered each other, she somehow sensed that he had buried what was left of Harper Holden Conlan with his long dead wife.

The old man, unable to conjure Lorelai and his horse by glaring at the sun, put on his hat and walked over to the stables. He was greeted by some half hearted whinnies and snorts as he began guiding the horses to the open pasture and fresh water.

---------------------------Summer, 2006----------------------------------

"Will she ever wake up, Maggie?"

"If my infamous chorizo/pepper jack huevos rancheros don't get her movin', nothing will."

"Do mermaids eat huevos rancheros?"

"I have a good feeling that this one will."

"I'll take her tray to her, Maggie. Please? Please?"

Maggie took the tray off the counter and walked over to the pensive six year old boy. She stopped in front of him and handed him the tray. He took a deep breath and waited for his instructions.

"Now, don't be upset if she doesn't open her door, OK? Grandpa says she's kind of skittish, still."

"Because of those people who came and tried to make her leave? That lady that kept yelling and that

man with little girl who kept throwing rocks at the dogs?"

"Those very ones. Any more visits like that and we'll be back at the drawing board with our friend in there."

"I'll be careful, I promise. I hated that girl. She's not Lorelai's girl, is she?"

"No, Lord, no! Lorelai's daughter has yet to make an appearance. Now, get going before the food gets cold. If she doesn't open her door, just leave the tray on the side table."

"I've got a new joke to tell her and a new piano song to play for her, but only if she eats her eggs."

Maggie gently put her hands on either side of the boy's freckled face. She grinned at the serious little boy as he rolled his eyes at her.

"If she doesn't get up for that, Lucas, we might have to throw her back."

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The old man leaned against the corral fence, arms across his chest, waiting.

Harper remembered how he felt when first saw her with his horse, his horse.

He was slightly astounded (and ashamed) that the first thing that he did was head back to the house and hunt for his camera. He hadn't touched it in years and now his hands shook like a bridegroom's as he rummaged around his office trying to ferret out a roll of film from what appeared to be drawer of crap. Cursing, he emerged from the house just in time to run right smack into Lorelai. He stumbled back and she landed flat on her ass. Cursing some more, he offered her a hand and yanked her to her feet. She studied him for a minute.

"What's his name?"

"The horse? Rio De La Noche. Rio, for short."

"He's beautiful."

"He's cantankerous and as belligerent as they come."

It was then that Harper finally saw her smile. Her eyes unclouded and the grin escaped her unbidden, practically to her own surprise.

"We'll get along just fine."

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What felt like a spark of electricity flashed up the old man's spine and then he saw them. Two creatures that learned to move as one. From this distance, he couldn't tell her mane from the horses. She was riding bareback and the horse galloped with an abandon that would have put the wild mustangs to shame. As they neared the corral, the horse slowed reluctantly. She bent down and whispered something into his ear and he snorted. They trotted over to Harper and he helped her down. Harper took the reins and led Rio into the corral. He hollered towards the stable and two hands, Buck and Tinos, took the horse in for a rubdown.

Harper took stock of the woman standing in front of him. At forty years old, she could easily pass for ten years younger in spite of the few slivers of silver that hid in her jet curls. She stood with her hands on her hips wearing her beloved black cowboy boots decorated with red roses and tiny butterflies that she just had to have from a shop in Austin. Even covered with dust and smelling like sweat, horse and of all things, mango, she could stop traffic with her smile and a swing of her hips.

But best of all, she looked content. To Harper, after all they had gone through together in a scant amount of time that alone meant the world to him.

"Answer me, Woman. I'm aging here."

Lorelai clasped her hands behind her neck and leveled her gaze at him. At the age of seventy six, he cut a striking figure. His eyes were the color of river ice and they contrasted with warm weathered brown of his skin. The worn, arthritic hands that could calm an angry stallion (or an angry, defeated woman) could easily create a magnum opus with the click of a camera. In a bizarre turn of events that would have had Nostradamus' head spinning, he saved her life. Little did he know how far she would truly go for this man.

Even back to Stars Hollow, if need be.

"Lorelai?"

" I will go back to Stars Hollow. I will take the boys with me as their legal guardian, soon to be mother. But Harper, as soon as it gets bad…you have got to promise me…I have to come back."

He rolls his eyes at her and for a second she can see Lucas and maybe a smidge of Rafe. She surprises him by grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him slightly. He has no words for her and he nods, his eyes giving up the tiniest bit of fear that he usually keeps to himself.

"This would be so much easier if you would just let me be Anna Nicole to….your ancient rich dude."

"I am not ancient, rich or hard up."

"Dirty!"

"Jesus, Lorelai! Just once could you pull your head out of your ass and take me seriously?"

"You're welcome, Harper."

Cowboys invaded Stars Hollow early in the summer of 2008. They came in all ages, sizes and colors. Miss Patty thought she had died and gone to heaven. Taylor Doose spent his waking hours in a state of barely contained fury. These "uncouth invaders" managed to slip through every roadblock and legality that he could come up with. He held many a town meeting trying to inflame the towns' people against these easygoing newcomers who seemingly managed to stay two steps ahead of Taylor, always presenting him with the proper permit or license even before he thought of it.

The cowboys were a closed lipped bunch. All Taylor knew about their presence was that they were hired to build a home just within the town lines. It was to be built on a prime piece of property, a few acres, some wooded, with a pond. All of the business dealings were done through a New York City law firm and it aggravated Taylor to no end that he truly had no idea who bought the land. Kirk was dispatched to spy on the goings on but was met with a shotgun and a friendly warning.

Luke Danes was surprised at himself that he , too, was a little curious about the cowboys and their project. April was practically buzzing with anticipation and would listen to any one who had a morsel of news. Luke thought that she was a little more interested in the young men striding in and out of the stores and eateries than in the actual building itself but after all she was a normal teen aged girl. It was lot easier to tease her about the "hot" cowboys rather than pretend to understand her ramblings about cloning or whatever she was reading about at the time.

It was a comment that Gypsy made during the dinner rush that made strange fluttering in his chest. He was ringing up a customer when he heard Zack mention to Gypsy that he saw her talking to the foreman of the project, a burly man with lolling Cajun accent and forearms that might as well had been tattooed with anchors.

"…so I asked him if it was a Victorian, or maybe a plantation style because it was killin' me, you know and he's got the greatest laugh and he says right now it's a cross between a tree house and Frank Lloyd Wright and I said the plane guys…….."

Maybe it was the full moon. Maybe it was because the flutter steadied itself into a comfortable purr as Luke walked to the building site later that evening. Maybe it was because he was happy not to be numb and going through the motions as has been his life for the last few years.

Why did this house look and feel so familiar to him?