A Chance for the Rancher

by Brenda Harlen

  “Of course I do. Her father and I go way back to his early days, before that little lady was even a twinkle in his eye. Bruce is mighty proud of his girl—and the grandson who’s already decided he wants to be a vet, too.”

  “Yeah, Brendan did mention that,” Patrick said.

  “You’ve met the boy, have you?”

  “He’s been out here a few times with Brooke.”

  “A few times?” His grandfather frowned. “I hope she keeps a close eye on him. Even if she’s tending to your stock, it’s not your job to babysit her kid.”

  “Brendan knows the rules,” Patrick assured him.

  “Knowing and following are two different things.”

  “Brendan does both. He’s a good kid.”

  Gramps shrugged. “If you say so.”

  The deliberately casual response tripped an alarm in Patrick’s brain. “Holy cr—” He quickly censored himself in response to his grandfather’s disapproving look. “Sarah was right. You set me up.”

  “What are you blathering on about?”

  “When Ranger was injured and you told me to call the vet, you knew it would be Brooke who came out to the ranch,” Patrick accused.

  “How could I possibly have known something like that?” Gramps challenged.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I’m sure that you did.”

  “My only concern was for the stallion, and I’m glad to see that he’s been well taken care of.”

  Patrick narrowed his gaze. “So you’re denying that you deliberately put Brooke in my path to see if sparks would fly?”

  “I’ve learned my lesson about interfering in the personal lives of my grandchildren,” his grandfather assured him.

  It was, no doubt, a reference to the separation between Patrick’s cousin Brielle and Caleb Gilmore, her high school sweetheart, with whom she’d recently reunited and was expecting a child.

  But it wasn’t really an answer to his question.

  * * *

  Patrick had been looking forward to this day for three weeks, but now that it was here, he couldn’t deny there was a little bit of disappointment mixed in with his relief when Brooke proclaimed Ranger’s injury healed and gave permission for him to be reunited with his equine companions.

  “That’s great news,” he said.

  Except that Ranger’s clean bill of health meant that Patrick would no longer get to see Brooke every day, because she’d have no reason to come out to the Silver Star.

  Of course, he could ask her out on a date, but he’d tried that once already and been shot down, and he wasn’t sure anything had really changed since then. Yeah, they’d shared a couple of sizzling kisses since that first encounter, but she’d firmly put on the brakes after that.

  Ordinarily that would have been his cue to move on. Life was too short to waste time chasing a woman who’d clearly communicated her disinterest. Except that Brooke didn’t act like she was disinterested when she was in his arms. And the memory of those kisses stirred his blood and nurtured his perhaps futile hope.

  “Do you have a minute for a cup of coffee?” he asked, trying to buy some time to figure out his next move—if he was going to make one.

  “I don’t today,” she said, sounding genuinely regretful. “I’ve got to get home to tackle a mountain of laundry so I can get Brendan packed and ready to go.”

  “Where’s he going?”

  “I thought he would have told you—my parents are taking him to Cedar Hills for the weekend.”

  “No, he didn’t mention it,” Patrick said. “Where’s Cedar Hills and what’s going on there?”

  “It’s a suburb of Salt Lake City where my brother and sister-in-law live with their twin daughters. It’s Abbie and Zoe’s tenth birthday this weekend.”

  “You’re not going?”

  She shook her head. “Someone has to be on call at the clinic. Plus, it’s only a half day at school tomorrow, so they’ll leave as soon as Brendan gets home and I’ve got appointments until four thirty.”

  “Are you going to be working all weekend while your parents and Brendan are away?” Patrick asked, more interested in her plans than her family’s.

  “Hopefully not all weekend,” Brooke said.

  For a brief moment, he thought she might be hinting that she’d have some free time so that he’d ask her out again, but her follow-up remark disabused him of that notion.

  “Though I never know what kind of emergencies might arise,” she pointed out.

  “That must make it difficult to make plans,” he commented.

  “I don’t make a lot of plans anyway.”

  Before he could decide if that was a hint, her cell phone rang.

  She pulled the device out of her pocket and glanced at the screen. “Sorry, I have to take this—it’s the clinic.”

  He stepped away to give her some privacy.

  After a brief conversation, she tucked her phone away again. “And now I have another stop to make before I can get home to tackle that laundry.”

  He walked beside her to her truck. “Well, thanks again for everything you did for Ranger.”

  “Thanks for paying your bill,” she said.

  And then, with a smile and a wave, she was gone.

  * * *

  Brooke could have gone to Cedar Hills with her parents and Brendan. While it was true that someone needed to be at the clinic, there was a vet from Battle Mountain who’d covered for her father in the past—before Brooke had joined the practice—and likely would have done so again if Bruce had asked. In fact, her father had suggested just that, but Brooke wanted to prove that she was capable of caring for his patients so that he would feel comfortable taking a vacation every now and then, and maybe even retire eventually.

  Sure, she was a little nervous, being the only vet on call and with her father so far away. But she also knew that she was ready for more independence and bigger challenges. And for the most part, the human clients didn’t seem to mind that she was “the other Dr. Langley” so long as she was able to examine and treat their pets or other animals. And those pets, whether they had fur or feathers—or even scales—all loved her.

  When she’d said goodbye to her last patient of the day, she checked her phone for a message from her parents, confirming their arrival at Kevin and Vanessa’s. She sent a quick reply, adding lots of emojis for Brendan, then noticed she had another unread message—from Patrick.

  Her heart skipped a beat, thinking—hoping—that he’d finally picked up on the hints she’d dropped about being on her own tonight.

  Yeah, she still had some reservations about her ability to indulge in a good time without expectations of anything more, but she thought she was ready to give it a shot. With Patrick.

  Unfortunately, his message didn’t even hint at a potential good time.

  I heard that a horse rolling on the ground is a sign of colic. Is this true?

  She ignored the quick spurt of disappointment that he hadn’t reached out in a personal capacity, because colic was a potentially serious concern—and the time stamp of the message indicated that it had been sent two hours earlier. She immediately responded.

  It can be. Have you noticed any other unusual behavior?

  While waiting for his reply, she expanded the cursory notes she’d made in her files earlier.

  Shortly after five, Courtney poked her head in the door of Brooke’s office. “Do you need me to do anything else before I go?” the vet tech asked.

  “No, thanks. As soon as I finish updating this file, I’ll be heading out myself.”

  “I can wait and walk out with you, if you’re almost done,” Courtney said.

  “No, that’s fine. It’s been a long enough day already and I’m sure you’ve got plans tonight.”

  “Lowell made reservations at The Home Station,” Court
ney confided, naming her boyfriend.

  “Special occasion?”

  “Our six-month anniversary,” Courtney said.

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. How about you—any special plans for the weekend?”

  Brooke shook her head. “No plans at all until tomorrow morning, when I’m back here for surgeries.”

  “The party never stops, does it?” the vet tech teased.

  “So it would seem,” she agreed, returning Courtney’s wave as the other woman headed out.

  As Brooke finished with her notes, she found herself wondering if she’d ever been as young and carefree as her coworker. If so, she couldn’t really remember because she’d had a six-month-old baby by the time she was Courtney’s age. On the other hand, maybe Brendan’s existence was proof that she’d not only been young and carefree, but a little bit careless, too.

  After she finished her notes, she backed up the computer system and sent Patrick another quick text.

  Do you want me to stop by to take a look at your horse?

  She was turning into her driveway before he replied.

  That would be great.

  Though he didn’t “sound” overly concerned, it was sometimes difficult to convey tone in a text message. But since she was already home, Brooke decided to freshen up a little before heading out to the Silver Star.

  She brushed some mascara onto her lashes and slicked some gloss on her lips—then wiped the gloss off because it seemed too obvious. On second thought, maybe obvious wasn’t a bad thing when trying to squeeze through a narrow window of opportunity, she decided. Because the two nights that her son would be out of town were a narrow opportunity for her to focus on being a woman rather than a mom, and one that she might not have again for a very long time. She opened the tube of gloss again, anticipation causing flutters in her tummy.

  Because although she was twenty-nine years old, a certified veterinarian and a single mother of a seven-year-old son, the prospect of a romantic interlude with the handsome rancher made her feel like a giddy teenager on prom night. Not just excited but nervous, anticipating how the night would end.

  And hoping it was with more than a goodbye kiss.

  Was that crazy?

  Was she crazy?

  Patrick had accused her of trying to deny the chemistry between them, and he’d been right. She’d tried to ignore the attraction, but ignoring it hadn’t made it go away. So she’d decided to stop pretending and acknowledge that she was ready to take the next step.

  Although it was possible she was getting ahead of herself. Because if Patrick’s horse was colicky, it could be a very long night for all the wrong reasons.

  And worrying about the animal had her chewing the gloss off her lips again as she drove toward the Silver Star.

  He must have been watching for her arrival, because the back door opened and Patrick stepped out onto the porch as soon as she pulled up beside the barn.

  “Your message didn’t mention which horse you’re worried about,” she said. “Are they stabled for the night or—”

  “About that,” he interjected. “I have a confession to make.”

  “A confession?” she echoed.

  He nodded. “I sent the text in the hope of luring you out here.”

  She lifted a brow. “You lied about having a colicky horse?”

  “I never said I had a colicky horse,” he was quick to point out in his defense. “I simply asked if a horse rolling on the ground was a symptom of colic.”

  He was right. And it had been a clever ruse. Not that she was willing to give him any credit for it.

  “But you let me believe you had a colicky horse,” she said instead. “You let me worry that one of your animals was in distress.”

  He had the decency to look chagrined. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

  “But you’re not sorry you lured me here under false pretenses?” she guessed.

  He slid his arms around her and drew her close. “How can I be sorry when you’re here?”

  “But now that I know you don’t have a colicky horse, there’s no reason for me to stay.”

  “I can think of two reasons. One—you want to,” Patrick said confidently. “And two—I want you to.”

  Because he wasn’t wrong, at least about the first part, she gave up any pretense that she wasn’t exactly where she wanted to be. “As it turns out, I have a confession of my own,” she said.

  “What’s that?”

  “I have an overnight bag in my truck.”

  His lips curved. “Do you?”

  “You’re surprised,” she noted.

  “Only because I thought I was going to have to work a lot harder to get you into my bed.”

  Chapter Ten

  “I’m not in your bed yet,” Brooke told him.

  Patrick dipped his head to brush his lips along the column of her throat, raising goose bumps on her flesh, making her shiver.

  “But that’s where we’re headed,” he noted, with a smile as smug as his words.

  She could hardly deny it. The fact that she was there, not just at his ranch but in his arms, proved she was committed to taking the next step.

  And when he finally kissed her, the skillful mastery of his lips obliterated any lingering traces of uncertainty.

  “Okay,” she acknowledged, a little breathlessly, when he eased his mouth from hers. “But before we go inside, I think we should set some ground rules.”

  “Why?”

  She would have thought the answer was obvious, but she clarified it for him now. “Because it’s important that we both understand what this is and what it isn’t.”

  He narrowed his gaze. “Is this the relationship talk?”

  “No,” she was quick to reply. “I’m trying to reassure you that I’m not looking for a relationship, that I don’t expect one night together to turn into anything more.”

  “What if, after one night together, one or both of us wants more?” he challenged.

  She shook her head. “That’s the point in setting the boundaries now—because if one does and the other doesn’t, it might lead to awkwardness or hurt feelings. But if we both agree that this one night is the beginning and the end, we can avoid that potential messiness.”

  “That’s really what you want?” he asked, his tone dubious.

  Yes.

  No.

  Truthfully, she wasn’t sure what she wanted, but she knew she couldn’t risk falling for Patrick, and the only way to be certain that wouldn’t happen was to clearly define the parameters of their relationship now.

  “That’s the only way I can do this,” she said. “The only way to ensure that Brendan won’t find out.”

  “We’re both consenting adults,” he noted.

  “One of us is a consenting adult with a child,” she reminded him. “And I can’t risk my son getting hurt.”

  “I would never do anything to hurt him.”

  “I know,” she said. “But he’s a little boy looking for a dad, and if he even begins to suspect there’s something between us, he’ll start imagining the three of us together as a family. And when that doesn’t happen, he’ll be hurt, despite our best intentions.”

  He shrugged. “Your call.”

  And yet something in his tone warned her that he wasn’t entirely happy, which didn’t make any sense to Brooke.

  Why would he be annoyed that she’d specified the terms for their involvement? Wasn’t no-strings sex what most guys wanted? And wasn’t he the one who’d suggested having some fun and moving on?

  She really didn’t know, though. Her experience with the opposite sex really was limited, and even that limited experience was several years in the past, so it was entirely possible she was misreading the situation.

  Deciding to focus on his words rather than
his tone, she simply said “thank you” and opened the passenger door of her truck to retrieve her duffel bag.

  Patrick automatically took it from her and slid his other arm across her shoulders as he guided her toward the house.

  He hung her coat while she took off her boots. She’d been inside several times before, but this time, she knew they wouldn’t stop at the kitchen, and the realization had the butterflies in her tummy zooming around as if they were seven-year-old boys high on sugar.

  But then he did stop in the kitchen, turning to ask, “Have you had dinner?”

  She shook her head. “No, but I had a late lunch.”

  “So you’re not hungry?”

  “Not for food,” she said, reaching for him.

  He chuckled against her lips. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I think I should make you something to eat first, because once I get you into bed, I plan to keep you there for a very long time.”

  “Promises, promises,” she teased.

  “I don’t make a lot of promises, but those I do make, I keep,” he assured her.

  “Take me to bed, Patrick. I think we’ve both waited long enough.”

  He didn’t make her ask again but lifted her effortlessly into his arms and carried her to the master suite at the back of the house. When he paused in the doorway, she stole a quick glance around the room, noting the neutral-colored walls, dark wood furniture and an enormous—and unmade—bed.

  “I forgot to make my bed today,” he admitted, a little sheepishly.

  “We’re just going to tangle up the sheets anyway.”

  “Good point,” he said and tumbled with her on top of the mattress.

  They’d been dancing around and toward this moment for weeks. Now that it was finally going to happen, it couldn’t happen quickly enough for Brooke. She hastily unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it over his shoulders, her hands rushing to trace the taut muscles beneath.

  Or maybe she was in a hurry because she was worried that, if she slowed down, she might start to think about how long it had been since she’d been naked with a man. And then she might start to worry about all the ways her body had been stretched out by pregnancy and childbirth.