A Chance for the Rancher

by Brenda Harlen

  * * *

  Brooke saw the appointment on her schedule when she arrived at the clinic Wednesday morning.

  2:00 Patrick Stafford—puppy exams/shots

  She’d known it was inevitable that their paths would eventually cross—after all, her father wouldn’t always be available to take every appointment she wanted to avoid—but she’d expected to have more time to put the broken pieces of her heart back together first.

  But two o’clock was manageable, she decided. Maybe a few hours wouldn’t be enough time to fix her heart, but it would be enough to put up her shields and a professional smile on her face.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Stafford,” she said, greeting him as she would any other pet owner—polite and professional.

  “Hello, Brooke.”

  She didn’t respond to his familiar address, but her cool reserve began to melt when he opened the door of the crate and the puppies tumbled out onto the floor, climbing over one another in their excitement to escape the confined space.

  “Oh...they’ve gotten so big,” she said, automatically crouching to give them the adoration they craved. Because while she might want to hold herself aloof from the rancher, she was helpless to resist these babies.

  “They’re six weeks old now,” he said, as if she might have forgotten that she’d not only been there but played a key role in bringing them into the world.

  “Time for their first shots,” she confirmed. She scooped up the nearest puppy, her fingers sinking into the soft fur as she lifted it to read the name on its tag. “Hello, Han.”

  The pup answered by swiping his tiny tongue over her chin, making her smile even as her heart was breaking all over again.

  “I also want to be sure they’re in good health before I let them go to their adoptive families,” Patrick said.

  “Have you found homes for all of them?” She gently lowered the puppy to the scale to check his weight.

  “All except Leia.”

  “No one wanted her?” she asked, surprised.

  “There was interest,” he said. “But I thought about what Brendan said and decided to let her stay with her mom.”

  “So you’ll have Princess and Leia,” she realized.

  He nodded.

  She refused to believe it meant anything that he’d chosen to keep the puppy her son had wanted as his own.

  “And my grandfather’s taking Luke, and Sarah has claimed Han, so the original trilogy are all going to be close to home.”

  “That’s nice,” she said, as she continued to examine the puppies—taking temperatures, listening to their hearts, checking their eyes and ears.

  “Finn looks like he might find a permanent home next door, Rey was claimed by my cousin Ashley, and your vet tech has dibs on Rose.”

  “Courtney’s been talking about getting a puppy for almost a year,” Brooke noted. “Being the first one to hold Rose after she was born must have convinced her it was time.”

  “Are you sure you haven’t changed your mind about wanting one?” he asked.

  “I’ve changed my mind at least a hundred times,” she admitted. “But my reasons for not taking one haven’t.

  “There you go,” she said, setting the last pup back in the crate he’d used to transport them to the clinic.

  “Thanks.” He latched the door.

  “You can settle up with Larissa at reception,” she said, prodding him to move along.

  “I will,” he promised, but still made no move to leave.

  “Was there something else you wanted?” she finally asked.

  “Yeah, I want you to come over for dinner this weekend. You and Brendan,” he hastened to clarify. “Assuming he’s over being grounded by then.”

  “Why?” she asked, not just surprised by the invitation but a little wary, too.

  “Because I’ve missed you,” he confessed. “Both of you.”

  She wasn’t going to let herself be swayed by the sincerity in his voice. And she certainly wasn’t going to set her son—or herself—up for more disappointment.

  “I screwed up in a big way, and I just want a chance to explain...and maybe to make it up to you. What do you say?” he cajoled. “Friday or Saturday—your choice.”

  She wanted to rant and scream in frustration that he couldn’t shove them away one minute and expect them to come back the next. But she didn’t want him to know how much his rejection had hurt her, so she only shook her head and said, “I’m going to be out of town this weekend.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “A veterinarian conference in San Diego.”

  “This is the conference you mentioned a few weeks back—the one you weren’t sure would be worth your time?” he guessed.

  She nodded. It was also the one she’d considered inviting him to attend with her, so she wouldn’t have to sleep alone. But of course she wasn’t going to mention that now.

  “Why’d you change your mind about going?” he asked.

  “I found out that a friend from college is presenting the findings from a new study on bovine respiratory syncytial virus,” she said.

  “I have to wonder if you really want to learn more about BRSV or if you just want to put some distance between us.”

  “I think you’ve already done that,” she pointed out.

  “I was an idiot,” he said.

  But she shook her head. “No, you were right. Things were getting too intense. Too real.”

  “I want it to be real,” he told her. “I want you, me and Brendan to be together. A family.”

  It was everything she’d dreamed of—and everything he’d said he didn’t want. “Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”

  “It’s not all of a sudden,” he denied. “I know it probably seems like it is, but that’s only because I refused to recognize what was in my heart.”

  “Barely a week ago, you told me that you wanted to take a step back,” she reminded him.

  “A week ago, I was scared and stupid. Now I’m just scared, because what I feel for you and for Brendan is strong and real, and it terrifies me to imagine my life without both of you in it.

  “And I’m screwing this up again,” he realized. “Because I skipped over the most important part. That I love you, Brooke.”

  “No,” she said, looking away so he wouldn’t see the tears that filled her eyes. So he wouldn’t guess the desperate longing in her heart that wanted to propel her into his arms. “You can’t do this. You can’t come in here and tell me that you love me and expect it to make everything okay.”

  “Then tell me what I can do,” he urged. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I want you to go so Larissa can bring the next patient into this room.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Melissa—hi. Come on in.”

  “I apologize for stopping by unannounced,” Patrick’s cousin said. “But I made peanut butter cookies today, and I wanted to drop some off for you before they all disappeared.”

  “That was really thoughtful,” Brooke said. “And now that I’ve got cookies, I think a cup of tea is in order. Care to join me?”

  “A cup of tea sounds wonderful,” Melissa agreed.

  Brooke led her into the apartment and turned on the kettle. “What kind do you like?”

  “Do you have anything without caffeine?”

  “Peppermint, lemon and decaffeinated Earl Grey,” she offered.

  “Hmm...the Earl Grey sounds good,” Melissa decided.

  Brooke made the tea, then opened the container of cookies and set half a dozen on a plate in the middle of the table.

  “So how are you doing?” Melissa asked, when Brooke sat down across from her.

  “I’m okay,” she said. It wasn’t exactly the truth—between the drama of Brendan’s bus adventure, being dumped by Patrick and then
his visit to the clinic, she felt as if she’d been strapped into an emotional roller coaster—but she thought she was doing a pretty good job of faking it.

  “I can’t imagine anything more terrifying for a parent than not knowing where her child is,” the other woman confided.

  “It’s definitely not an experience I ever want to repeat,” Brooke told her.

  “So how long is Brendan grounded for?”

  “I’m still trying to figure that out. My gut instinct was to say until he’s sixteen, but even in the heat of the moment I realized that was a little extreme.”

  “But understandable,” Melissa said.

  Brooke smiled, grateful for the expectant mom’s support. “But now I think my memories of the terror might subside enough that I’ll be willing to let him out of my sight in about six months.”

  “Does that mean you’re taking him to San Diego with you?”

  “Obviously Patrick told you about my trip?”

  Melissa nodded.

  “I wish I could take Brendan with me, but he’d be bored to tears—or he’d convince his aunt Lori to take him to Disneyland, which would hardly fit the definition of a grounding,” she said, with a shake of her head. “So he’ll stay here with my parents.”

  “I met your mom and dad at the ranch that day,” Melissa said. “They were amazing—so calm and cool despite everything going on.”

  “They are great,” she acknowledged. “I definitely lucked out there.”

  “Patrick wasn’t nearly as lucky.”

  “And now we get to the real reason for your visit?” Brooke guessed.

  “I really did come to see you—and to bring you cookies. But maybe I also wanted to plead my cousin’s case a little,” Melissa admitted.

  “There’s no case and, therefore, no pleading required. He’s the one who decided that everything was getting a little too real.”

  “If you knew about his relationship with his parents, you’d understand why Patrick tries not to get too attached,” his cousin told her.

  “I know they split up a few times but always got back together,” Brooke said.

  “It might have been better for their kids if they didn’t always get back together,” Melissa confided. “My family moved to Seattle when I was ten, but before then, I spent a lot of time with my cousins. And in the years that followed, I’d often come to Haven for a week in the summer and Sarah and Jenna would come to Seattle for a week after Christmas, or vice versa.”

  “It’s nice that you were able to stay close,” Brooke said.

  “It was,” the other woman agreed. “But one time when I was there, Uncle Derrick and Aunt Liz got into a big fight. I don’t remember what it was about, or if I even knew what it was about, because it seemed that an argument about one thing inevitably turned into something else.

  “Anyway, later that night, when I thought the fighting was over, I went down to the kitchen to get a drink and I heard Uncle Derrick grumbling about something ‘his son’ had done, and Aunt Liz shot back saying ‘maybe he’s not your son.’”

  Brooke sucked in a breath.

  “That was my reaction, too,” Melissa said. “And not wanting to hear any more of what they were saying, I turned around to tiptoe back up the stairs—and almost ran right into Patrick.”

  “He heard?”

  Melissa nodded. “A few months later, Derrick and Liz split up. When Jenna and Sarah came to Washington over the Christmas break, they told me that their dad had demanded a paternity test.”

  Now Brooke winced.

  “No one believed Liz had ever cheated on her husband—except maybe Derrick, and probably only to ease his guilty conscience. But even if there was a possibility Patrick wasn’t Derrick’s biological child, he’d raised him since birth, so you’d think DNA wouldn’t matter as much as the bond they shared.”

  And Brooke didn’t doubt that his father’s willingness to disregard that bond would have struck a harsh blow to their relationship.

  “His parents each used him as a weapon in their efforts to hurt one another, never considering that their son would be the one to carry the deepest scars.”

  “I had no idea,” Brooke said. “I mean, I know he isn’t particularly close to either of his parents...”

  “And now you know why.”

  And knowing, she couldn’t help but hurt for the rejected boy, but that didn’t mean she was willing to forgive the man who’d rejected her and her son.

  “I think Patrick didn’t want to get involved with you because he worried that he wouldn’t be able to love a child who wasn’t his. Because that’s the message he got from his father’s demand for a paternity test. But then when Brendan was missing, he panicked because he realized that he already did love him, and the prospect of losing him was more than he could bear.”

  “Instead, he pushed him—pushed both of us—away,” Brooke pointed out.

  “And immediately regretted it,” Melissa said.

  She sighed. “So what am I supposed to do now?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I don’t know,” Brooke confided. “I was so hurt when he walked away, even if it only proved that he was exactly the type of guy he always claimed to be. But then he came into the clinic and asked for another chance, and now... I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel.”

  “There is no ‘supposed to’ about feelings,” the other woman said wisely. “So I’d suggest you stop trying to reason this out in your head and listen to your heart.”

  “But how many chances am I supposed to give him?” she asked. “How many times am I supposed to put my heart—and my son’s—on the line?”

  “I’m hardly an expert, but I’d say that depends.”

  “On what?” Brooke wondered.

  “Whether or not you’re in love with him.”

  * * *

  He’d screwed up.

  If he’d had any doubts that he was 100 percent at fault, both of Patrick’s sisters and his cousin were only too happy to reassure him on that point. And to offer all kinds of unsolicited advice. But while he appreciated their interest and concern, he decided that what he really needed was a junior consultant.

  He knew he was taking a big risk. Brooke had been clear from the beginning that she didn’t want Brendan to know about his mom’s relationship with “Mr. Patrick.” She didn’t want to raise her son’s hopes that a few dates might lead to something more.

  And he’d gone along, because he figured she knew her kid a lot better than he did—which of course she did. But as a result of this effort to manage Brendan’s expectations, she’d succeeded in keeping her own little world intact—and Patrick on the outside looking in.

  He didn’t want to be on the outside anymore.

  So, yeah, he was about to take a big risk, but he was looking for a big reward.

  And Saturday afternoon, after Brendan’s grounding had been lifted and he was allowed to visit the ranch, the boy played with Princess and her puppies until they were all played out and ready for a nap. Patrick then invited him into the house for milk and cookies and what he hoped he might someday look back on as his first father-son chat with the boy.

  Not entirely sure where to begin, he said, “Do you remember when we talked before about your mom not having a boyfriend?”

  Brendan, his mouth full of cookie, nodded.

  Patrick tucked his sweaty palms into the front pockets of his jeans. “Well, I was thinking about what you said...and I’ve decided I’d like to ask her to be my girlfriend. If it’s still okay with you.”

  “It’s more than okay,” the boy said. “It’s awesome!”

  “I’m glad you think so,” he said, aware that he was manipulating the situation—and possibly Brooke’s son—to get the boy on his side. But considering how spectacularly Patrick had struck out on his own, he knew it
was time to bring in new talent. “But I think it might take some work to convince your mom.”

  “You could try giving her flowers,” Brendan suggested.

  It was solid advice, he acknowledged, and a little embarrassing to realize the kid had pointed out a basic courtship ritual he’d completely overlooked.

  “Girls get all mushy when you give them flowers,” the boy added sagely.

  “How many girls have you given flowers to?” Patrick asked him.

  Brendan rolled his eyes at the question. “None, but Grandpa gives them to Gramma all the time, and even if she’s mad at him, she stops being mad and they kiss.”

  “Flowers are a good idea,” Patrick agreed, smothering a laugh. “Kissing is even better.”

  Brendan made a face.

  “Don’t knock it until you try it,” he said, then hastily revised his advice. “But don’t be in any rush to try it.”

  “I’ve tried it,” the boy told him. “Ruby asked me to push her on the swings at school, and ’cause I did, she kissed me and said I was her boyfriend.”

  “Where did she kiss you?” he wondered.

  “By the swings,” Brendan said again.

  “I mean—Never mind,” he said, deciding he wasn’t ready to tackle the various issues involved with girls and dating, but also making a mental note to keep Ruby away from the boy he hoped would soon be his son. “Back to the flowers. Do you know if there’s any particular kind of flowers your mom would like?”

  “Yellow ones.”

  Patrick nodded. “Okay, then, let’s go do some shopping.”

  * * *

  When Brooke FaceTimed with Brendan Saturday night from her hotel room, her son was full of excitement as a result of his visit to the Silver Star—his first return to the ranch since his grounding was lifted.

  The previous night, when Sandra told her Patrick had invited Brendan to visit, Brooke had considered not letting him go. But she knew it wasn’t fair to punish her son again because she was hurting, so she gave permission but left it up to her mom to decide if she wanted to take him. Of course, Sandra had never been able to refuse her grandson anything.