Her Oklahoma Rancher

by Brenda Minton

  For Tori, she could manage for a month. “I’ll help you while you’re here,” she said, needing to set ground rules. “I will not move back to Texas. I just can’t. While you’re here, we will figure out a plan. We’ll figure out this parenting thing together.”

  “A month. I’ll take that.” He stood and grabbed a seat at the counter. “I can use the help. I might seem like I have this all figured out but becoming a parent overnight hasn’t been easy. There’s a lot I don’t know. There are times that she cries and I have no idea how to comfort her.”

  “And you think I’m going to have the answers?” She laughed. “Ethan, I never even had a babysitting job. My parents were in their early forties when I was born. For the first twenty years of their marriage, they were too busy being activists to have children. And all of their friends were older and childless.”

  “I still say you have a knack for this.”

  “Yeah, well, she’s sweet and easy to love.”

  “I’m not sure what’s going to happen with all this, Eve, but I can’t give her over to strangers. I just can’t imagine doing that. What are we supposed to do, walk in to a judge and say, ‘Sorry, our best friends trusted us but we can’t do this’?”

  Eve didn’t have answers.

  “I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do.”

  “I guess we take it one day at a time.”

  “I guess we will.” She unwrapped the sling and lifted Tori, holding her out to Ethan. “That makes today your day. I have to catch up on a lot of work. I lost a couple of days.”

  “But I have to go to Tulsa.”

  “Then what do we do? What do you usually do with her when you’re working? You didn’t bring her to me just to have a free babysitter. Did you?”

  “No, of course not.” The words were spoken in an indignant tone but she thought he looked somewhat guilty. It might have been years but she still knew him well.

  She laughed. “You did!”

  “I didn’t!” he protested, taking Tori from her. She immediately grinned and patted his cheeks. “Since the funeral we’ve been in a holding pattern. I haven’t worked much and I’ve had my mom and Bethany to help. But I couldn’t put off this trip to Tulsa and then Bethany saw your name in the article about Mercy Ranch.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “You shouldn’t have found me that way. I should have called you a long time ago. I made a decision in the days following the accident.”

  Accident seemed like a vague description for what had happened to her overseas. The word accident implied something accidental, not planned, not orchestrated. Her heart thumped hard and fast as her mind took up the scattered memories of that day and tried to thread them together. She shook her head.

  “Are you okay?” Ethan asked, his voice low, concerned.

  “Fine. I’m fine. But the point is, I made a decision and acted on it. Later, after the dust settled, I should have called and explained. But by then, months had passed.”

  “Did you have second thoughts?” His gaze bored into her and she shook her head.

  “No. I didn’t have second thoughts.” No second thoughts but a lot of regret. Were the two one and the same? “I did the right thing.”

  “For who?”

  She blinked at the unexpected question. “For you, of course. So that you could find someone else and have everything you had always wanted.”

  “I wanted...” He let the words drift away as he settled Tori on his lap.

  “I’m sorry.” She’d been sorry since the day of the accident. Sorry for the lives lost. Sorry for herself. Sorry that she couldn’t fix things and have the marriage they’d planned.

  “Yeah, me, too. So, about Tori. I’m going to have to run to Tulsa in the next day or two.”

  “And you’re not going to take her with you.” It wasn’t a question. “The problem is, I have work to do, too. I have a job. Two jobs, actually.”

  “Already fighting like a married couple,” Sierra said as she entered the kitchen. She held her hands up. “Don’t look at me. I’m not getting in the middle of this. And I’m certainly not a babysitter. Maybe the two of you could switch off. Not that communication seems to be your strong suit.”

  Her comment caused Ethan to bark with laughter. “That hits the nail on the head. Communicating might have resolved a lot of our problems.”

  “Communicating would have meant you trying to convince me that we would be fine, and me feeling as if I had trapped you into something you didn’t sign up for.”

  “That’s TMI. I’m heading to the chapel, and I’m not ever getting married.” Sierra walked off singing the last line. “Just be glad you dodged the bullet, Ethan. Seriously. I’ve never seen a marriage that ended with a happy-ever-after.”

  “My parents have been married for forty years,” he called after her as she walked out the back door.

  “She can’t be convinced. Her parents were a nightmare.”

  Tori started to fuss in his arms. Eve thought about reaching for her, but that would be a commitment. The two of them raising this child together. She really did want that. She wanted to comfort this baby girl, love her, cherish her. Because she was Hanna’s. And because Eve really did love babies. She used to dream about the half dozen kids she and Ethan would have. They’d even named some of them. Because she’d grown up lonely, an only child. And he’d always dreamed of a big family.

  “Let’s take her back to the apartment and feed her. Maybe she’s hungry?” Eve really didn’t have a clue.

  “She probably wants to get down and play.” Ethan’s suggestion made sense.

  “I really don’t know,” Eve admitted. “I seriously don’t know anything about kids, other than the two that belong to Carson and Kylie.”

  Eve turned toward the back door, confident that Ethan followed. As soon as they were in the open air, Tori stopped fussing.

  “Did you think I would smother you?” Ethan asked as they crossed the wide expanse of lawn. “I mean really, I’m trying to understand how the person I planned to live my life with suddenly didn’t trust me enough to tell me what had happened to her while serving overseas.”

  She’d never really thought about it from his perspective. Now she couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d hurt him. There was some truth to the words. She knew that Ethan, like her parents, would have wanted to take care of her. She would have felt the same had something happened to him.

  “After the accident, I was trying to figure out my new normal and how I would live the life I’d suddenly been handed. I wasn’t thinking about your feelings. I was thinking about survival. About how it would feel to pull the rug out from under you, taking all of your dreams away.”

  He silently shook his head.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Just nothing. I’m not sure what to say.”

  “Will you forgive me?”

  He stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop. “I’ve forgiven you. But you were my best friend, the woman I loved and wanted to spend my life with. Obviously I must have wanted that more than you did.”

  Tori’s bottom lip quivered.

  “The two of you have to stop.” Sierra approached them, her hazel eyes flashing with anger.

  “Stop what?” Eve shook her head, confused.

  Sierra stormed up to them. “Get over yourselves. Stop talking about the past and who got hurt the worst.” She took Tori from Ethan’s arms, her expression softening. “This baby is yours. You both have an obligation to give her a safe and loving environment. I’m not a relationship expert, but I do know how it feels to be this child. So stop. Not another word about what Eve did or why she did it or how it made you feel. Get over it. Love this baby. Be happy around her. Have fun with her. Have your grown-up discussions somewhere other than with her in your arms. Now, I have fifteen minutes to spare. Go take a walk. Hash it out. To
ri and I are going inside. You’re not welcome in there until you’ve figured out how to talk without making her sad.”

  Eve watched her friend walk away, whispering to Tori as she went. Slowly she turned to face Ethan. He brushed a hand through his hair and let out a long sigh.

  “Parenting fail,” she said.

  “Big-time.”

  “I told you we’re not cut out for this. Or maybe I’m not cut out for this. Do you know I’ve never seen my parents fight?” She ran her hands over the wheels of her chair. “We might have made a royal mess of our marriage. And our six kids would have been in serious trouble.”

  “Eve, my parents have one of the strongest relationships I know of. They sometimes disagree. In front of me and my sister. And they also work it out in front of us, too.”

  “But we made Tori cry.” She started to roll past him.

  “We have to talk,” he said. “We have to get to a place of understanding.”

  “Right, of course we do.” She could have told him she really wanted to run away from him, from this conversation. She didn’t want to face anything. But the determined look in his eyes told her the time for running was over.

  * * *

  “Where do we go?” he asked.

  She took off without giving an answer so he followed. And it didn’t take him long to figure out their destination. She left the sidewalk and headed across the lawn. There were two options: the stable or the dog kennel. Because she’d always loved the stables back in Texas, he assumed that was their destination. He didn’t know the protocol for helping her, or if she’d want help. He took hold of the handles of the wheelchair, just in case.

  And he headed them in the direction of the stable.

  Her gloved hands grabbed the wheels and stopped them.

  “Ethan, would you ever pick me up and carry me where I didn’t want to go?” she asked without looking back.

  “No, I wouldn’t.” He backed away from the chair.

  “Then don’t take control of my chair unless I ask and don’t think you can push me where I don’t want to go.”

  “I’m sorry.” He waited, knowing there was a lesson to be learned in this.

  “This chair is a part of me, it’s my legs. It’s my freedom. I resented it at first, now I realize that it gets me where I want to go. It gives me independence.”

  “Got it.” He lowered his hat to shade his face from the midmorning sun and stared down at the dark head that tilted, the chin jutting angrily. Oh, boy, she hadn’t changed much at all. She’d always stood her ground. She didn’t like to be pushed around. She said it was because her parents were political activists and had strong opinions. She’d learned early on to stand up for what she believed in. Even when what she believed in upset those very same parents.

  “Why not the stable?” he asked, keeping his tone even.

  “Because I don’t want to go there. I just don’t.”

  He got it. It was another place she avoided. The same way she avoided home, her family, her friends.

  Her fiancé.

  Ethan brushed a hand over his face.

  “The dog kennel,” she offered. “If you want to go with me to the dog kennel, we can talk there.”

  “Is that what most people call a compromise?” He grinned at her, and wonder of wonders, she smiled back.

  “Yeah, I guess it is. I don’t want to fight with you, Ethan. I definitely don’t want to fight in front of Tori. I want to find a way that we can be friends.”

  He started to tell her that he’d always thought they were friends. In the spirit of compromise, he avoided that statement. “Can I help you across the rougher ground?”

  “You can.”

  Friendship. With the woman he thought he’d spend the rest of his life with. It was ironic, really, that they were now joined in a union they wouldn’t have envisioned. Rather than husband and wife, raising a family together, they were trying to find a way to co-exist. For Tori’s sake.

  They reached the dog kennel and he took a seat on the bench. Eve opened a kennel and called the dog inside. The chocolate Labrador left the enclosure and sat next to her chair. She slid her hand down its head and the dog leaned into the caress.

  He was jealous of the dog.

  She finally looked up, her eyes soft, her expression thoughtful. “Well?”

  She was the woman he’d fallen in love with. It hit him full force, like a fist to the solar plexus. She was smart, funny, caring, beautiful. He’d kissed her for the first time the night after she graduated high school. He’d kissed her for the last time when he put her on a plane, her destination an airbase that would take her to Afghanistan.

  “Ethan?”

  He cleared his throat, trying to pretend he’d been thinking about her question and their situation. Instead he’d been thinking about kissing her. He guessed his whole lecture to himself about not trusting her was one he hadn’t taken to heart.

  “Let’s just take one day at a time for now. We’ve discussed it. Let’s get on with life and figure it out as we go.”

  “I’m a planner.”

  “I know you are.” He laughed at the memories. She’d designed their home, their ranch, given their six children names that were alphabetical. “Alexander, Benjamin, Cadence, Dusty, Eloise, Franny,” he reminded her.

  She laughed so hard she wiped away tears. “There just wasn’t an F name that went with Forester.”

  “I know. I remember.”

  “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

  “I know.”

  She drifted for a moment. He watched as she scanned the horizon, settling her gaze on horses grazing in a distant field.

  “I don’t want to hurt you again and I’m afraid I will. We’ve managed to move on and I’m afraid this will open up the wounds. It will hurt all over again. I do not want to go back to Texas and be someone that everyone takes care of. I can’t. I won’t.”

  He wanted to tell her that plenty of people went through difficult times and allowed their loved ones to help. It wasn’t about being suffocated. It was about having people who cared.

  She must have deciphered something in his look because she reached for his hand. “You would have.”

  “I wouldn’t have meant to.”

  “I know that. Remember when you convinced my dad to sell my roan mare? You’d decided she was too much for me to handle.”

  “She tried to take you off under a barn door.”

  “If you’d given me time, I might have made that decision for myself. Instead you rushed in and made it for me.”

  “I only did it because I cared.”

  And he did still care about her. Very much.

  “My parents drove me to every band competition, every barrel race. They wouldn’t let me near a school bus. I get that buses can be dangerous but every other member of the band got to ride the bus. Same thing with school trips. I never had a sleepover at a friend’s house, never went with a group to the movies or any of the other things that everyone else was doing.”

  “Their overprotectiveness went above and beyond.”

  “I wanted to serve my country so I joined the army, because it was a place where they couldn’t protect me.” She didn’t cry but her eyes filled with tears. “I showed them.”

  “Eve...” He didn’t know what else to say.

  Her hand tightened around his. He pulled off the glove. He slid his fingers through hers, interlocking. She looked up, confusion in her dark chocolate eyes. Slowly he raised her hand and dropped a kiss on her knuckles, allowing himself only that much contact. The gesture was meant to comfort her. Instead it felt like a cord being pulled tight between them.

  She pulled her hand free, then touched his cheek, her fingers lightly tracing a path to his jaw. Ever so slowly she touched her lips to his. It was fleeting, and then the moment was gone.
/>   Afterward she smiled, looking pleased with herself. “I’ve never kissed any man other than you.”

  He remained silent.

  “And you’re the only man I’ll ever kiss. I want you to know that. I didn’t end our engagement in order to find someone else. Or because I found someone else. I ended it so that you could find someone.”

  “Am I supposed to say thank you?”

  “It would be the polite thing to do,” she teased. “I’m sorry, that isn’t funny. I know it hurt. I hope you understand that it hurt me, as well.”

  “And here I thought you were taking the easy way out.”

  She moved back a few feet and closed the kennel, keeping the chocolate Lab at her side. “Stay, Tex.”

  “I have to go to Tulsa tomorrow.” He stood up, realizing that maybe it was time to end this discussion.

  “And you want me to take care of Tori?”

  He shrugged, then waited for her response, not wanting to push.

  “I can do that. I’m sure if I get in a bind, someone will help me out.”

  “Thank you. For being willing to watch her. I know this is an adjustment but I’m glad she has us both.”

  “I just want to make that clear. I’m not convinced I can take care of a baby. I’ve adjusted to my new reality. I know I’ve talked a lot about my independence and taking care of myself. What you need to realize is that it took a lot of time and work to get here. And it isn’t easy. I still struggle.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “No, you can’t, so I’ll explain. I’m not looking for pity because I love my life. I just want you to have a clear understanding. This chair changes almost everything about how I live my life. How I take care of myself. How I get from place to place. There are days that I think about something I need to get and I realize that I can’t climb the ladder to reach whatever is on the top shelf. I can’t chase after a puppy that gets loose. I can’t dance with you under the moonlight. Remember our crazy plan to have our reception outside under the stars?”