Her Oklahoma Rancher

by Brenda Minton

“Do the fish,” Eve whispered.

  “I’d planned on it.”

  The waitress wrote down his order. “Sweet tea to drink?”

  Eve shot him a look. “Sure. Sweet tea.”

  Eve ordered next. Of course she ordered fried fish and sweet tea. The waitress scribbled the order on her order pad and hurried off.

  “Not that I hadn’t planned on ordering fish, but is there a reason you were so adamant about it?” he asked.

  Eve gave Tori another spoonful of the vegetables, talking to her in sweet tones that took him by surprise. He knew her intention was to tell him she couldn’t help raise Tori. But he hoped, prayed actually, that she’d change her mind. He couldn’t imagine anyone spending time with Tori and refusing to raise her.

  “Ordering fish makes things easier on Holly,” she finally answered. “It’s busy on fish night and we all try to stick with the special.”

  Conversation picked up at the table. Ethan observed as the men and Sierra discussed the workings of the ranch and the coming tourist and fishing season, as well as the wedding venue.

  “I’m the last person who ought to be selling people dreams about happy-ever-after,” Sierra groused. “It’s going to be all white lace and pearls, sugary icing and glittery lights. The whole idea makes me cringe.”

  “Because you want everything draped in black?” Joe teased.

  “I didn’t say that,” Sierra shot back. “But people ought to know that life doesn’t get wrapped up with a pretty bow just because you meet someone and fall in love. Look at Isaac and Rebecca.”

  “I’ll have you to know that we’re very happy,” Isaac countered. “Keep your negative sentiments to yourself.”

  “Not negative, honest. Marriage doesn’t mean suddenly everything is perfect.”

  “True,” Rebecca, Isaac’s fiancée, responded. “A good marriage takes work from both people. It’s a partnership. That doesn’t mean there won’t be difficult times to work through.”

  Sierra rolled her eyes and directed her cynical gaze in the direction of Ethan and Eve. Eve pointed at her.

  “Do not start,” Eve warned. “We all know your opinions on weddings. But Jack isn’t asking you to get married. He knows you’re a great businesswoman and he’s asking you to manage a business. Separate your emotions from the wedding aspect and think of it as a business that you can manage and excel at.”

  Sierra pursed her lips. “I never thought of it that way.”

  “Exactly. Now, stop complaining.”

  Their dinners arrived and everyone was quiet as they ate Holly’s amazing food. After the plates were cleared, people started to leave. Ethan lifted Tori from the high chair as Eve put the lid back on the container of baby food and dropped the empty container, bottle and toy into the bag on the side of her chair.

  “Where did Sierra go?”

  He looked around. “I don’t know. I thought she went to pay for her meal but she never came back.”

  “Oh, she’s truly gone too far. She brought me and Tori. She has the car seat.”

  “Is that a real problem?”

  “It is a little bit of a problem. Babies require car seats. I’m not an expert but even I know that. And I require a car that I can get in and out of.”

  “I’m sure we’ll manage. But maybe she’s waiting out front?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I know her too well. Miss Jaded-and-Angry doesn’t believe in happy-ever-after, but she doesn’t mind meddling in other peoples’ lives. Which is why Jack gave her the ranch’s wedding venue to manage.”

  “Giving you a ride home shouldn’t upset our lives that much. Let me pay and we’ll see what we can do.”

  He left her sitting at the table trying to figure out how she’d lost control of her life. He knew her well enough to know that’s where her thoughts would go.

  His own were not quite as dire. As much as he didn’t want to trust Eve, he found himself returning to the relationship they’d always had and the woman he’d always known. She had changed. She had gone through things that no one should have to endure. But she was still Eve.

  She was still the woman he had loved. The woman he had wanted to spend his life with. No matter what obstacles she threw in his path or how much she tried to convince him that everything had changed, he knew better.

  She was a determined woman, always had been. She was going to find that he was just as determined.

  Chapter Seven

  Twilight had descended, and as they left the café, Eve took a deep breath of late spring air. She could smell a hint of rain. That would make the farmers happy. They hadn’t had rain in a week and they needed it for a good hay crop. All of those thoughts didn’t draw her attention from the man pushing her wheelchair down the sidewalk.

  “This is a pretty little town,” he said as they approached his truck.

  She nodded, agreeing with him. A few blocks away she could see the setting sun glimmering on the lake. The sky was painted shades of gray, blue, pink and lavender. Across the street she could see Rebecca, Isaac and Allie in the salon and day spa that Rebecca had come to Hope to start. It had been a rocky start, but the two of them together were a winning team.

  When they reached his truck, she looked up at the behemoth of a vehicle. She’d spent her life not being overwhelmed or put off by anything. But from her vantage point in the chair, some things did overwhelm. Things she’d done without thinking about them now required careful thought, real planning.

  And this truck, it was a giant.

  And there was the car seat situation.

  “Looks like she put the car seat in the back of my truck,” Ethan noted as he reached into the bed of the truck for the seat. He put it in the backseat of his truck, secured it and turned to Eve.

  She felt her breath hitch as they made eye contact. His dark eyes were shadowed beneath his hat, and his beard scruff took away the smooth handsomeness and turned him into a rugged cowboy. The cowboy she’d fallen in love with. The man she’d planned to marry.

  She shook her head, freeing herself from those thoughts. She couldn’t love him. She wouldn’t. Neither of them needed complications from the past tangled up in the present.

  “I’ll get her,” Ethan offered.

  She started to say that they didn’t really have another option but she refrained. She refused to be the bitter shrew who took her resentment of her situation out on the people around her.

  She saved most of her resentment for quiet, private conversations with God.

  Ethan lifted Tori from her lap. The baby had started to fall asleep and probably would have been sound asleep if they’d taken a longer walk.

  Ethan finished buckling Tori into the seat. Then looked at Eve, then his truck. She sighed, because this was exactly what she’d wanted to avoid. That feeling of helplessness.

  She could almost hear Kylie’s voice. Asking for help doesn’t make a person helpless.

  “Tell me what to do,” Ethan said matter-of-factly.

  She focused on his eyes, searching for pity. The emotion wasn’t there. That was a point in his favor.

  “I would normally transfer myself but this truck is so tall, it’s not an option.”

  “I can sell it.”

  She laughed at the offer. “Keep your truck, Ethan. You’ll just have to pick me up and put me in the seat.”

  An apology for the situation almost slipped out but she bit it back. She couldn’t apologize every time she needed help. But she could thank the person who helped her and be grateful.

  “Any special way I should lift you?” His question brought her back to the present.

  “I’ll put my arms around your neck, then you lift me. I’m warning you, I’m not light.”

  “You’re not heavy,” he countered.

  “Suit yourself, cowboy.”

  He leaned down and she
wrapped her arms around his neck. She closed her eyes, swamped by emotions she’d so neatly boxed up and put away years ago, as if they’d never been apart. His scent, the feel of his strong muscles, the way his breath brushed her cheek, smelling of cinnamon. It would have been extremely uncomfortable had she not heard the catch in his breathing, as if he too felt the long-lost past twining between them.

  After a brief pause he lifted her, holding her for a moment longer than necessary. They stood there between the door and his truck, sandwiched into a space barely big enough for the two of them.

  “This is interesting,” he finally said.

  His face hovered just inches from hers. Their mouths were far too close. Her fingers itched to stray into his hair, perhaps to pull the cowboy hat off his head.

  “This is dangerous,” she responded.

  “Maybe.” He touched his forehead to hers and breathed deep. She did the same.

  Then he placed her in the truck’s passenger seat. He didn’t ask permission, he just buckled her in. Afterward he gently splayed his right hand across her cheek and turned her to face him.

  “Don’t,” she whispered. Her heart couldn’t take another of his sweet, gentle kisses.

  “Don’t kiss you?”

  She nodded because she found it impossible to speak.

  His hands slid from her cheek and he backed away. “I won’t. This time.”

  He closed the door. She watched in the rearview mirror as he folded her wheelchair and placed it in the bed of the truck. She watched as he rounded the truck and got in next to her. He started the truck and backed out of the space.

  “How’d you and Tori do while I was gone?” he asked as the truck moved forward.

  “We survived,” she admitted. “Didn’t get a lot of sleep but we survived.”

  Five miles of silence followed. He drove through the gates of the ranch and parked under the carport next to the apartment. They sat in silence, although it wasn’t uncomfortable. Tori had fallen asleep. There were lights on in the apartment. A living room lamp and the light over the kitchen sink. If Sierra was home she must have gone into her own suite. Another quiet, lonely night.

  Unless she had Tori. But if she took Tori to the apartment with her, that was another night of getting attached, another night of bonding. And where did it all end?

  “Where do you see this going for us?” she asked as the sky darkened and the sun disappeared over the western horizon. Lights came on in the stable. The men were working in the arena.

  She missed horses, sometimes so much she could cry.

  “Is there an us?” he asked with a hint of a smile.

  “No, there isn’t,” she clarified. “But there is Tori and that changes things.”

  “I see us raising her together,” he admitted. He held her gaze and she knew she’d be the first to look away.

  From where they sat, she could watch the outdoor arena. The lights were on, making the area as bright as day. They were team roping. Jack loved the sport. He said it fostered trust and teamwork.

  Even from the inside of the truck, she could hear the shouts of the men, the noises of the steers in the pen. Sometimes they still got angry. She watched as one of the newer residents, Gabe, rushed at Joe. Joe shook his head and backed away. No one really had the courage to fight Joe. He was a wall of solid muscle, the black sheep in his US senator father’s family.

  Joe wasn’t respectable, not the way his dad had intended. And he wasn’t a fighter.

  “It’s quite a place, Mercy Ranch,” Ethan spoke again. “I can see why you want to be here. Would you ever consider leaving?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She’d considered it. More than once. It was her safe place but that didn’t mean it was her forever home. She thought about missing Jack, Kylie, Isaac, Joe and the others. She would miss her dogs. When he’d founded Mercy Ranch, Jack had bought the Labradors and the Labradoodle mix dogs to give them something to work with, something to focus on. Like the horses, the cattle and the other projects. Jack was of the opinion that busy hands kept a person focused on something that moved them forward. Isaac had been a kid when he got dumped at Mercy Ranch with the dad he’d never met. Back then Jack had been a mean drunk, his ranch on the verge of ruin, and Isaac had been his reason to keep going. He’d focused on giving his son a new life.

  “How do you propose we raise Tori together?” Eve asked, going back to their previous conversation.

  “As a couple.”

  She laughed. And then she saw that he was serious. Very serious.

  * * *

  That went as well as he had expected. He hadn’t expected her to laugh in his face. But on a positive note, she hadn’t punched him. Or screamed or told him to get out of the truck. Of course, it was his truck.

  “You’re kidding,” she finally said after staring at him as if he’d just told her he was an alien.

  “Not really. I do not want to lose Tori. I know it’s crazy but I already feel as if she’s mine. She’s got me wrapped around her little finger. Maybe in time James and Hanna would have changed their will. Maybe they should have picked someone else. But they didn’t. Even after you ended our engagement. Even though they didn’t know where you were, they kept us as guardians of their child. I’m not going to let them down.”

  “Hanna knew about the accident,” she said, looking away as she made the confession. At first he thought he’d misheard her.

  “What?”

  “I called her. I told her I couldn’t marry you. She tried to talk me out of my decision. She told me to talk to you. But I knew if I talked to you, I would let you convince me you could handle it.”

  “Because I can handle it.”

  “You don’t know that. You’ve been here less than a week. You have no idea. In the beginning there were days I wondered if I could handle it.”

  “We can handle it.”

  Her bullish expression shut him out. She shook her head and reached for the door handle. “I can. We can’t. Please get my chair. It’s really hard to make an exit when you can’t even get yourself out of a truck.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize.”

  He got out of his truck. The night air was humid, heavy with the hint of rain and the smell of dust and cattle. He grabbed the chair out of the back of his truck. He didn’t know all of the ins and outs of how it had changed her life, how it would have affected his, but logically he knew she had valid reasons for what she’d done.

  The four years he’d spent wondering, resenting her, all seemed pointless now that he knew her situation. Hanna had known. She’d never let on. But then, after getting married, Hanna and James had moved to the Dallas area and he hadn’t seen them as often as he would have liked.

  The truck door opened. Eve glanced back at him, waiting impatiently for him to help her. He leaned in and her arms reached around his neck. She held tight as he lifted her from the truck. He held her a moment longer than she would have liked but he couldn’t seem to find the moral character he’d always prided himself on. It’d gone missing along with pieces of his common sense.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, outraged. Because he wasn’t putting her in the chair. He wasn’t letting her go so easily, not this time.

  He leaned against the side of the truck, holding her in his arms. She wasn’t as heavy as she’d warned.

  “I should have hunted you down.”

  “What?”

  “When you called and ended our engagement. I should have known something was wrong. The person I was in love with wouldn’t have ended our engagement without a very valid reason. I allowed myself to believe you’d changed your mind. I let myself think that you’d picked the army—or another man—over us.”

  “I picked myself over us.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “The hors
e. I kept thinking about that horse and how you convinced my dad I couldn’t handle it and that it had to be sold. I pictured a lifetime of you telling me what I could and couldn’t handle. I won’t live that life. Not with you. Not with anyone.”

  “I wouldn’t ask you to.”

  “You wouldn’t ask. You would just make decisions. Because you like to protect. You want to take care of the people in your life. And right now, you’re holding me, literally, against my will.”

  Until that moment he had considered kissing her. But her accusation made him realize what he’d done to her. Without further conversation, he settled her in her chair. She ignored him, grabbing gloves out of her side bag.

  “I’ll keep Tori with me tonight.”

  “Thank you.” She turned to face him, peering up in the relative darkness. “Tori is a gift, Ethan. She’s such a part of James and Hanna that it breaks my heart to look at her sometimes. I wish I had more faith in myself. More faith in general. I wish I understood how something like this happens to people, to a couple who loved each other, loved their daughter, loved God.”

  “It’s a question everyone asks, Eve, not just you. It doesn’t mean you’ve lost faith.”

  “I haven’t lost faith,” she admitted. “I’m just so angry sometimes that it scares me.”

  In the dark he could see the pain in her expression, the anguish in her dark eyes. He wanted to know more about her accident, her broken faith, about what had happened in Afghanistan.

  The words were on his lips, that he understood. But he didn’t say them.

  “I think the correct thing to say would be that you have a right to be angry.”

  She smiled at that. “Thank you. Maybe someday...”

  “You’ll tell me?”

  “Yes. Maybe.”

  He accepted that slight opening of a door, letting him back into her life. Maybe someday.

  As he carefully gathered Tori out of the car seat, he watched Eve make her way back to the apartment. The door opened before she got there, letting light spill out on the concrete front patio. Voices carried, hers and Sierra’s, but he couldn’t tell what they were saying to one another. Then the door closed.