Home on the Ranch

by Tanya Michaels

  “I hope you’re hungry.” Jace strode toward the kitchen, bustling with energy. Had he always been this much of a morning person? “I’ve got fruit and sausage ready and the batter mixed for pancakes. There’s a bacon-and-cheese quiche in the oven.”

  “You know how to make quiche?”

  “No, I know how to preheat the oven and open a box.” He grinned over his shoulder. “But I hold my own at pancakes. I almost never burn more than half of them.”

  She smiled at that, the closest she’d come to relaxing since she’d arrived. Once she was seated at the table, however, watching him pour circles of batter onto the electric skillet, he resumed his inquiries about Addie. Yet he barely let Layla respond before thinking of something else he wanted to ask. He hurled questions at her with the speed of a major-league pitcher who had his heart set on the Cy Young Award. Trying to keep up hurt Layla’s brain.

  Did Addie prefer pancakes or waffles? Summer or winter? What was her favorite color? Was she a morning person or a night owl? Did she have a preferred bedtime story and did she already own a copy of Where the Wild Things Are?

  He set two plates on the table, each full of enough food to feed a family of four. “Of course, my favorite story to read to my nieces is The Book with No Pictures. It teaches all-important vocabulary words like blork and globbity. What was Addie’s first word? Does she use grandma and grandpa for your parents, or does she have sillier nicknames?” He cut into his pancake but paused with a bite halfway to his mouth, suddenly beaming. “What do you think she’ll call my parents?”

  “Jace!” She pressed her fingers to her temples, needing him to shut up a second so she could hear herself think. Don’t bite his head off. “Slow down. You’re...coming on too strong.” If Layla was this overwhelmed by his rapid-fire interrogation, how on earth would Addie feel?

  “I’m just eager to get to know my daughter.”

  “You’re peppering me with trivia questions. Memorizing a handful of random facts about someone isn’t the same as really knowing them.”

  His fork clattered onto his plate, his blue eyes stormy. “And whose fault is it that I never got the chance?” he asked softly. “That I don’t even know my daughter’s birthday?”

  She sucked in a breath, struck by the truth in his words. He was right. Still, she had to protect her anxious daughter from his full-steam-ahead approach. Her conflicting guilt and maternal instincts made her head throb worse. “I need air.” She scraped her chair back across the hardwood and made a beeline for the front door.

  Jace was right on her heels. “You were never a coward when we were kids. This pattern of running away doesn’t suit you. The diner yesterday, leaving Cupid’s Bow—”

  “I was seventeen.” The cool morning air on her face was a relief after the warm confines of his kitchen. Her voice was slightly less shrill when she added, “And I was terrified.”

  After a long moment, he sighed. “And alone.” He put a hand on her shoulder.

  She stiffened, remembering too clearly their interlude on the porch last night, but she didn’t resist when he gently spun her around into a hug.

  “You didn’t tell your family the truth and you didn’t tell me, and you had to deal with it alone.” He stroked a hand over her hair. “You aren’t alone now.”

  She closed her eyes, indulging in how good he felt. When people bought the shirtless cowboy calendar, they would probably notice Jace’s sex appeal, the hard muscular planes of his torso. Admittedly, he was a very sexy man. But right now what she appreciated most was the solidness of him. His chest beneath her cheek was irrationally reassuring, somehow making her feel as if the two of them were a team who could take on the world.

  But temporary enthusiasm didn’t necessarily translate into long-term partnership. Parenting was more than sunny days at the playground and silly bedtime books. It was also getting kicked in the ribs and sacrificing a good night’s sleep and occasionally getting thrown up on and questioning whether your kid’s quirks were normal or if you were making the mistake of not intervening soon enough. Layla cared about Jace Trent—she always had and she always would—but he had a habit of quitting when things got difficult or he lost interest.

  She pulled away, replaying his words with different emphasis in her head—You aren’t alone now. Sure, but what about next week or next year?

  There were difficult decisions to be made when raising a child, and she didn’t want to fall into the trap of relying on Jace’s assistance to make them. She’d done her best by Addie for the last six years. She would continue doing so, with or without a man’s help.

  She looked out across the yard, still seeing in her mind’s eye the tire swing that had once hung from the big oak tree, recalling games of tag with her brother and the Trents after one of Jace’s birthday parties here. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him when Addie’s birthday was and that her favorite flavor of birthday cake was German chocolate. Instead she asked, “How long have you and Grayson been in business together?”

  “Not too long. He bought back his father’s old store from one of his dad’s ex-partners, then decided that running it by himself was cutting too much into his family time. So he started looking around for someone, and it just so happened I was between jobs. My parents cut me a good deal on renting this place, so I saved up more than you would think during my bartending days. It was one of those... What’s that word for happy accidents and coincidences?”

  “Serendipity?”

  He snapped his fingers. “Exactly. Like you being back. I broke up with my last girlfriend because I wanted to have kids, a family. She didn’t. And now here you are, telling me I have a kid. How often does life work out that perfectly?”

  Never, in her experience. “Jace, my being in town isn’t a happy accident. I’m here because my brother got trampled by a bull. And deciding to have kids isn’t like having a craving for tacos. It’s not an easily satisfied temporary whim. You should put real thought into it.”

  He gave her a pointed look.

  “Okay,” she relented. “Obviously I didn’t make an informed decision to get pregnant. But as soon as I knew, I did think long and hard about whether it would be best for the baby for me to raise her or to give her up for adoption. I read books, I scoured internet forums on parenting, I even took a childcare course at the local rec center. And I was the only member of my Lamaze class there with her father, which was humiliating, but I was determined to make good choices for Addie. I still am. I want you to meet her, but before we tell her you’re her long-lost daddy—”

  “You say that like I went missing,” he said flatly. “Even during the years I didn’t live here, you could have contacted me through my family or Chris.”

  “I know. I probably should have. I didn’t want to disrupt your life, and I wasn’t sure what was best for her.” Her voice trembled. “Meeting strangers isn’t easy for her. If Gena is okay with the idea, are you free to come over for dinner tonight? At least then, Addie will be in a setting where she already feels comfortable.”

  His expression brightened. “Tonight? I can meet her tonight?”

  “As long as Gena says yes. Under the circumstances, I suspect she will.”

  “So she knows?” He didn’t sound bothered by that. Quite the contrary, he sounded hopeful.

  “She wanted to know why I’d been crying, and I made an exception by telling her. It’s not like I’m ready to post an announcement in the Cupid’s Bow Clarion.”

  He didn’t seem to hear her. With an unrestrained whoop of glee, he lifted her off her feet and spun her in a circle. “Just text me what time to be there. Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

  Yes, he was certainly giving her that impression. “Jace...” Would it be a waste of breath to caution him again about slowing down, about approaching the situation with restraint?

  He met her gaze, correctly reading the concern
there. “Quit worrying, beautiful. Uncle of seven, remember? I’ve got this.”

  She hoped he was right. For all their sakes.

  * * *

  “Thank you.” Layla shot her cousin a sheepish smile across the kitchen. “I mean, I know I already said that—”

  “Only two or three hundred times.” Gena winked at her.

  “Well, I’m really grateful.” Layla turned her gaze back to the bread dough she was rolling into crescent shapes on the baking sheet, stifling the impulse to say thanks yet again. Or apologize again. “Oh, God. What if this is a disaster?”

  “I’m sure it will be fine?”

  Layla raised an eyebrow.

  “Okay, I’m not sure. But what was it our mothers used to say? Don’t borrow trouble?”

  Mention of her mother did nothing to calm Layla’s nerves. Her father would be arriving to his hotel on the outskirts of town tonight, and Layla still hadn’t figured out how—or if—she should tell her mom or brother.

  “My movie is starting again!” Addie’s update came from the living room. “Does anyone wanna watch...or make popcorn?”

  Gena chuckled at the unsubtle hint. “Want to go keep her company, and I’ll get the rolls in the oven?”

  Layla bit her lip. “Honestly, I have so much nervous energy, I’m not sure I could sit still.” All she’d told Addie about tonight was that a friend was coming to dinner, someone who grew up with Layla, Gena and Chris. Aside from her usual scowl at the prospect of meeting a stranger, Addie had been unfazed. It was probably better that Layla keep a safe distance so that her tension didn’t spill over onto her daughter.

  “All right, I’ll hang with the munchkin,” Gena volunteered. “There might still be a line of dialogue in the first twenty minutes that I haven’t memorized yet.”

  Layla laughed. When she and Addie left Cupid’s Bow and went back home, Gena would probably be happy never to hear mention of The Wizard of Oz ever again. “You’re the best.”

  “Very true.”

  Although Layla couldn’t honestly say that she was looking forward to dinner, it was a relief when Jace pulled up to the wide gravel half circle that served as Gena’s driveway. Getting this over with had to be better than torturing herself with imagined scenarios. She took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

  When she opened the door, she found herself staring at a colorful bouquet and a plush horse. “Um...” Brilliant greeting, Layla. After last night’s ill-advised kiss, she wasn’t sure how to interpret the flowers, but they made her nervous. Well, nervouser.

  “Hey.” Jace grinned from between the stuffed animal and some sunflowers. “Am I too early? I had to stop myself from driving over here half a dozen times. I was really excited.”

  “I see that.” She stood aside, eyeing the floral arrangement. “You, ah, didn’t have to bring me flowers.”

  “I didn’t. These are for Gena, to thank her for having me over to dinner. My sister-in-law Megan is a florist, and I asked her to do something appropriate to hospitality.” He shifted his feet, his gaze sliding to the stuffed horse cradled in his arm. “And this, of course, is for Addie.”

  His voice trembled slightly on their daughter’s name, and Layla’s heart squeezed. Jace might hide it behind charm, but he was nervous, too. This was a momentous occasion.

  “Come on,” she invited softly. “She’s in the living room, watching one of her favorite movies.”

  “Is it about a princess?” He set the flowers on the ledge of the half wall that marked the entryway. “Thanks to all my nieces, I know a lot of princess movies.”

  “Not a princess, just a Kansas farm girl.” Since Layla was walking slightly in front of him, she didn’t see Jace’s expression when he got his first look at Addie cuddled against Gena on the plaid couch. But Layla heard the way his breathing stuttered. She couldn’t help wondering what would have happened if she’d called him in his dorm room his freshman year of college and informed him he was going to be a father.

  Clearing her throat, she grabbed the remote off the end table and pressed Pause. “Addie? There’s someone here who would like to meet you. You remember Gena and I told you about our friend Jace?”

  “Hello,” Addie mumbled, dutiful enough to offer the greeting but shy enough that she didn’t make eye contact.

  Jace moved past Layla, nodding to Gena without taking his gaze off his daughter. “Hi, Addie. I brought you something.” He held the horse out toward her.

  “Why?” She scowled. “It’s not my birthday.”

  “Oh, I...” He was obviously surprised by the question but recovered quickly. “It’s just how I was raised. When I have dinner at other people’s houses, I bring gifts for the people there. I brought Gena a bunch of flowers. They’re in the other room.”

  “What did you bring Mommy?” Addie asked.

  “Dessert,” Layla said quickly. “He brought us a chocolate cake for after dinner.” Her daughter didn’t yet know about the bakery box in the refrigerator or that Mrs. Washington had given it to Layla at the hospital.

  Jace changed the subject. “So, you like Wizard of Oz, huh?”

  Addie nodded. “Have you seen it?”

  “Not in a long time, but it’s a good movie. I always thought the black-and-white part was a little boring, but once she lands in Oz and it’s all colorful and everyone is singing, it gets pretty interesting.”

  Layla and Gena winced in unison. Calling his daughter’s favorite part of the movie boring was not an auspicious start.

  Addie’s small face puckered in an expression of bewildered derision. “The beginning part has the tornado.”

  “Sure,” Jace said, “but later, there’s a talking scarecrow, a castle, flying monkeys—”

  “Is anyone else really hungry?” Gena interrupted. “I am starving.”

  “Me, too,” Layla said, even though she hadn’t had an appetite all day. “Why don’t we all go to the table? Maybe we can talk more about movies there.”

  But Addie didn’t seem to hear them. She was frowning intently at Jace. “You were at Grandma Claire’s. With Mommy.”

  Layla’s stomach clenched as she recalled being in Jace’s arms on her mother’s back porch. Did Addie recognize his voice, or had she seen them together? And if so...how much had she seen? Injecting as much cheer into her voice as possible, Layla said, “Jace has known our family a long time. He brought Grandma Claire some soup for lunch while we were there the other day. And he’s been friends with Uncle Chris ever since they were little boys.”

  “That’s right,” Jace said quickly. “Want to hear some funny stories about your uncle when he was a kid?”

  Addie regarded him with suspicion. “I need to wash my hands for dinner.” She climbed down from the couch, leaving the untouched toy horse behind, and left the room.

  Jace heaved a sigh, and Layla watched her daughter go, wondering how to make this evening go smoothly.

  “Well.” Gena was the first to break the ensuing silence. “Would now be a good time to ask if anyone wants wine?”

  * * *

  The uneasy silence hanging over the dinner table might not have been so conspicuous if people were focused on enjoying their meals, but apparently Layla wasn’t the only one without an appetite. Normally, Jace was never at a loss for words, but he was uncharacteristically hesitant, as if worried he’d say the wrong thing to Addie after his Wizard of Oz faux pas. Layla was mentally kicking herself for not doing a better job of prepping him, for sharing more of her daughter’s likes and dislikes. She’d honestly intended to that morning, but he’d barely let her get in a word edgewise.

  This is a fiasco.

  Addie was regarding the adults around her with obvious suspicion, and Gena had just glanced toward the refrigerator as if considering a second glass of wine. If Layla brought any more chaos to her cousin’s life, the poor woman was going to end u
p a lush. Or maybe Gena was just thinking about the chocolate cake in the fridge. If ever there was a time to bend the “no dessert unless you eat your veggies” rule, it was tonight.

  “Is anyone else in the mood for chocolate?” Layla asked. “Maybe it’s time to cut the cake.”

  Gena nodded emphatically. “Lord, yes.”

  Addie’s suspicion only grew. “We’re not allowed to have cake in the middle of dinner.”

  “I know,” Layla agreed, “but sometimes on special occasions—”

  “Why is it special?” Addie interrupted. She pointed at Jace. “Is he like Mister Kyle?”

  “Kyle?” Jace looked to Layla for explanation.

  Her cheeks heated. “Someone I dated. Briefly.” Kyle had been the closest she’d come to having an actual boyfriend. Although he hadn’t had kids of his own, he’d assured Layla that he wanted them someday. He’d been eager to meet Addie, but then he’d tried much too hard to win her over, making her uncomfortable. He’d alienated Addie and strained his relationship with Layla—until abruptly abandoning them for a pretty barista with a less complicated life.

  Now Jace was scowling, and, under different circumstances, the fact that his expression was identical to Addie’s might have been cute. The mention of Layla seeing someone obviously irritated him. Was he jealous of her romantic past, or was it the idea of another man spending time with Addie—time he’d been denied—that upset him?

  “I don’t want cake,” Addie declared. “Can I go watch my movie instead?”

  Layla bit her lip, caught between wanting to encourage her child to be polite to guests and knowing that sometimes letting Addie retreat was the best way to avoid a meltdown.

  Jace took the choice out of Layla’s hands. “Of course you can.” His shoulders slumped, his posture one of defeat.

  Giving him the closest thing to a smile she’d offered all evening, Addie scrambled out of her chair.

  Gena was hot on the girl’s heels. “I’ll, uh, just see if she needs help with the DVD player.” It was a flimsy excuse to leave them alone, considering Addie had mastered the remote days ago, but Layla appreciated her cousin’s diplomacy.