Winterland Daddies (Second Chance Ranch Book 1)

by Rayanna Jamison

  "I-I don't know what you're talking about," I stammered, knowing I was busted but not knowing what to do about it.

  "Whatever you say, dear. I may be old and out of practice, but I recognize the unmistakable crack of a belt on a bare butt when I hear it. Seems to me like my boys didn't care much for the way you ran off all those years ago. I wonder what the story is there, hmm?"

  I couldn't see my face, but I was sure the entirety of it was bright purple.

  "I…um…you're not mad?"

  "Me? Mad? At what, three grown ass adults engaging in what I can only assume is consensual adult activities? It damn well better be consensual, because I know I taught the three of you better than that."

  "Yes, Nan. You did. It's all consensual. Promise."

  "Well, then, the only way I could ever be mad is if they hurt you or you hurt them. But that's already happened, hasn't it? And that's what last night was about, I assume? Healing and moving on."

  Damn, she was good. I had forgotten how shrewdly intuitive she had always been. "That's what they say," I muttered.

  "Well, did it help?" Nan questioned, peering at me in that knowing way she had.

  "Too soon to say," I answered honestly.

  My honesty seemed to tickle her, as she threw back her head and let out a hearty laugh. "Fair enough, then. Let's get started on those cookies, shall we?"

  Chapter 8

  Slade

  "How do you think Nan and Merry are faring?" I asked, pulling my horse up so that we were trotting alongside Blake's.

  "I think you worry too much," he responded dryly. "Nan probably has Merry wrapped around her little finger and vice versa. And, by now, Merry has probably figured out that Nan isn't half as naive to what happened as she originally assumed."

  I nodded. "Yeah, that was a little risky, doing that in the house like that."

  "Nothing we haven't done before." Blake smirked. "Nothing you haven't, anyway."

  The reminder of that fateful day set a fire in my belly and I snarled. "I can't help but feel like we did something wrong, like we missed something important."

  "That's because that's who you are, a big ol' worrywart."

  "Yeah, maybe." I shrugged. "You really don't feel like anything was off yesterday?"

  Blake rolled his eyes at me, dismounted his horse, Lola, and began tying her to the fence in front of the pasture, digging a sugar cube from his pocket and offering it to her. "Listen, the only thing I feel is that I can't wait to do it again. With our roles reversed, this time."

  I followed suit, dismounting Zeke and tying him up in a similar fashion. I couldn't repress the niggling feeling that something was wrong. It must have been all over my face, because Blake looked at me and laughed. "Talk to her, then. Make sure she's okay. That's what you do. It's why you are the Daddy and I'm the Dom."

  I frowned at his insensitivity, even though I knew I should be used to it by now. "It doesn't bother you?"

  "I'm not one to borrow trouble, Slade. If it turns out you are right, then we will all talk, and we'll deal with whatever it happens to be. For now, stop worrying and get to work. These fences aren't going to fix themselves and the north pasture is overcrowded. We need to get this field up and running again so that it's safe for the horses and we aren't having to spend our days chasing them all over tarnation."

  Sighing, I picked up my work belt and jogged to the first post. There was a bite in the air, and storm clouds rolling in. It looked like we might be gearing up for the first storm of the season. If that was the case, there was plenty more work to be done after this.

  Merry

  Under Nan's watchful eye, I pulled out her well-loved, stuffed to the gills recipe box and found the section full of her Christmas cookie recipes, held together by a red paperclip in the very back of the box, just like I remembered it to be. Nan sat precariously perched on a kitchen stool at the large island in the middle of the kitchen, barking orders like she was the Queen of England. She was the queen of her kitchen; that was a fact.

  "Remember, dearie, a good cook gathers all the ingredients, first. Make sure you have everything you need so there are no surprises halfway through."

  Laughing, I withdrew a pink ruffled apron from the bottom drawer under the coffee pot and reveled a bit in the fact that, even though it had been years, this kitchen and everything in it was familiar. Neither Nan nor her kitchen had changed a bit.

  As I tied the apron around my waist and caught Nan's eye, I was filled with a warmth I couldn't explain or describe. I had so many memories wrapped up in this very room. What little bit I could manage to cook for myself was all thanks to Nan, her stubborn perseverance, her many rules, and her insistence that we all contribute to the household as much as possible. If not for her patient teachings, I'd probably suck at this adulting stuff even more than I already did.

  "Which recipe do you want to make today, Nan?" I asked, sliding the paper clip off the bundle and spreading the cards out in front of her.

  She looked at the pile and picked up each one, smiling fondly, as if at the memories each one invoked, before picking up the one in the middle and flicking it with her finger. "Let's start with sugar cookies. They take the longest, and they always were your favorite."

  My eyes filled with tears. It really is the little things. I couldn't believe with the forty-odd kids who had passed through this kitchen, she still remembered that her sugar cookies had been my favorite.

  "Okay," I said, smiling through my tears. "Sugar cookies, it is."

  "Of course, that means we'll need icing and sprinkles and all those other goodies. I wouldn't mind a few new cookie cutters, as well. They are always coming out with new stuff, and I like to keep my collection updated. We'll have to go into town."

  As she spoke, thunder clapped through the air, and the branches from the oak tree in the yard pounded against the kitchen window. Unease filled my stomach as I looked at her, suddenly hit with the sinking suspicion that I'd just been bamboozled. "I don't know, Nan. It sounds like a storm. I don't think a trip to town is a good idea. Let's just make something else."

  The darn woman crossed her arms across her chest and glared at me, her lips curled into a full pout. My jaw dropped. "Nan! It's a twenty mile drive to town and another twenty miles back, plus a good hour to shop, if I know you. That will severely cut into our cookie baking time, anyway. And it's really not a big deal to stay here where it's safe and save the sugar cookies for another day. It's really not."

  Nan continued to pout.

  I crossed my arms and glared back at her. "Don't you usually make your icing, anyway? I seem to remember that what made your cookies so great was the homemade icing."

  Nan shrugged. "I'm old. And even if I weren't, I don't have the ingredients for mass quantities of homemade icing on hand, either. Easier to run to town and grab some. No big deal."

  "Sure, it's easy for you to say 'it's no big deal, let's go'. Do you have any idea what Slade and Blake would do to me if anything happened to you?" I shook my head. "Nuh-uh. Not worth it."

  "Oh, geez. You are a bigger worrywart than Slade is, and I didn't think that was possible. It's just a little thunder. I'm surprised at you, that you would let such a silly thing like a little thunder ruin our fun day."

  Who was this woman? "But…Slade…Blake…" I stammered, knowing it was a lost cause. The truth was, even though she was acting more like she was four than seventy-nine, Nan was more intimidating than the both of them put together.

  "Oh, don't be a killjoy, they won't be home until dinnertime," Nan muttered, spryly hopping off the stool and heading towards the living room. "I'm going to go get my purse and get dressed. You do the same. And hurry it up, I want to be back before my soaps come on."

  When they were ready to leave, thunder cracked again, and a flash of light filled the dim kitchen. Nan already had her hand on the front door, and she didn't even hesitate for a minute, pulling the door open.

  "If you don't come, I'm going without you," she warned. "A
nd I haven't driven in years."

  With no choice and my stomach in my throat, I followed. So much for protecting my ass.

  Blake

  Lightning flashed in front of us, and the horses bucked wildly on their tethers. "Well, shit," I growled. "That came in fast."

  "Hurry up, and finish what you are doing," I called out to Slade. "We need to get these horses back to the barn and get the others in, too."

  Without looking up from the fencepost he was hammering, Slade nodded his agreement. I had finished mine and walked over to our horses, petting and comforting them while I waited. They didn't like thunder and spooked easily, but they were the best working horses we had. The others were for the outreach program.

  Slade finished up and jogged over, flinging his supplies into Lola's saddle bag and mounting Zeke. I did the same, mounting Lola. "Think we should go check on the girls?"

  I shook my head. "I think Nan and Merry are fine. They can fend for themselves. The horses can't. Stop being such a Daddy," I guffawed.

  "Can't stop being what I am."

  "Well, hold off on it, then. Once we get back to the barns and get the animals all settled in for the night, you can Daddy to your heart's content."

  "Damn straight."

  I nodded, turning Lola towards the main barn, as flurries of snow fell from the sky, hitting the ground in front of us in large, fast falling flakes. It was sticking. I shivered, more from a sense of foreboding than from the cold. "Let's get a move on, then. Try to get in before the worst of it hits."

  We rode side by side in silence. I could tell Slade was worrying. The truth was I was, too. No matter how many times I laughed Slade off for being an overprotective worrywart, I couldn't deny the knot in the pit of my gut telling me that he was right. Something was off. I just hoped that something had nothing to do with the storm.

  Merry

  To my dismay, the snow began to fall before we even hit the main road. "Nan, maybe we should turn around. It's getting worse."

  "Pshaw. It's just a few snowflakes. It's not even thundering and lightning anymore, and the wind is barely blowing. Just keep driving. Hell, drive faster, if it will make you feel better."

  What would make me feel better was if we were in Slade's big ol' truck instead of your old beater car. That was what I thought. What I said was, "Okay." And then I floored it. I just wanted to get there and get the stupid icing and get back home to the ranch, and I knew I would be driving slow as shit on the way back if the storm kept up the way I expected it to, despite Nan's insistence that it was a minor one.

  The roads were straight and empty, and I figured that, until there was enough snow on the ground to make the roads slippery, twenty over the speed limit wouldn't hurt.

  I miscalculated. Big time. Maybe I was too busy silently glowering at Nan to pay attention to the road. Maybe the snow had fallen thicker and faster than I realized, or maybe I was just an idiot who forgot to slow down before I hit the sharp turn on the back road highway right before town. Whatever the cause, the effect would be the same. My ass was grass. That was the only thought in my head as we slid across the road, barreling into a ditch on the other side, crashing to a stop off the road with a sharp lurch. We barely missed hitting a huge ass tree. I was so dead.

  Exhaling deeply, I turned to Nan, assessing the situation. She was out cold. I leaned over and grabbed her wrist, holding it as I counted. The pulse was strong. There was a small gash on her head and a dab of blood on the dashboard, but my biggest concern was that she was currently unconscious.

  Unbuckling my seatbelt, I turned and rummaged behind me where the contents of my purse had spilled out across the floorboard. I picked up my cell phone—and stared at its dark screen. Shit. Dead. I hadn't thought to charge it when we had gotten in last night. And even if I had, I realized with dread, I hadn't bothered to get Slade's number or Blake's. I didn't even know for sure if they had mine, though I assumed they must, if the PI they had hired was worth his salt.

  Resting in the fact that Nan appeared to be mostly okay, I took stock of my own injuries. There was a large gash on my forearm, from what, I wasn't quite sure, and my neck and back were all kinds of stiff. Other than that, nothing hurt or felt off. Unraveling my scarf from around my neck, I wrapped it around the gash, tying it tightly over the wound. I'd be lucky if it didn't require stitches, but that was going to be the least of my problems.

  More immediate problems were the fact that the snow was falling hard and fast around us, I had a dead phone, and I hadn't eaten breakfast. I never did, but who knew how long we would be out here. I only hoped we didn't freeze before they found us.

  Luckily, Nan was always prepared, and the backseat contained a large wool blanket, a gallon of water, and a first aid kit. I pulled the blanket over both our laps, took a swig of the water, and pulled a bandage from the first aid kit, securing it in place on Nan's forehead. Now, all that was left to do was wait.

  Slade

  The storm had turned from a slight winter storm to a full-on blizzard within an hour. Luckily, not before we had reached the barns. The horses came in easily, without much prompting on our parts, and we went to work mucking stalls and stocking them with bales of hay, filling water troughs and making sure all Nan's babies were warm and safe for the night ahead. She'd have our heads, if we didn't.

  The entire list took just over two hours, before we were able to hop in Blake's truck and make our way to the house to check on our girls. All I wanted was a steaming hot cup of cocoa, a hug from them both, and a gallon of hot soup for dinner.

  When Blake pulled up to the ranch, my eyebrows furrowed in concern. It was completely dark. I turned to him. "Power's not out, is it? Should we have brought up the generator?"

  He shook his head slowly. "It wasn't out five minutes ago. There was light in the barn, and we had the radio going."

  I swore softly. "You stay here. I'll go check the house." Blake nodded, because we both already knew what had happened. They wouldn't be in there. Still, I ran up to the house and entered through the back kitchen door. Flicking on the light, I saw a mess. Discarded coffee cups sat in the middle of the nook, and the island was scattered with notecards. Sugar, flour, baking soda, and even a carton of eggs lined the countertop and one of Nan's aprons lay piled on the floor. I ran through the house, checking each room, knowing that it would be fruitless. The last place I checked was the garage. It was just as I suspected; Nan's old boat of a Buick was gone.

  "Dammit," I yelled, cursing all the way back to the truck. I jumped in and shook my head at Blake. "Not there. Looks like they left in the middle of baking cookies. Or getting ready to, anyway."

  "Nan and her damn cookies," Blake muttered, shaking his head in irritation as he backed out of the driveway slowly. "I'm gonna kill her, kill them both."

  "Let's just find them, first. Keep your eyes open for Nan's old Buick."

  Blake drove slowly, peering through the blizzard as we searched for the giant hunk of blue metal. The good thing was that car was nearly indestructible, a fact that had been proven time and time again through the years. They were more in danger of freezing to death than being unsafe, regardless of what happened to the car. And then, of course, there was the real danger. What Blake would do when he found them. Me, too, but mostly Blake. Hard earned discipline was his department. I just followed his lead.

  The roads were already treacherous for us in the truck; I couldn't imagine Nan and Merry out in this. What had they been thinking? The closer we got to town, the bigger the worry knot in my stomach got. There was almost no traffic on these back road highways, especially not in this weather, but the closer we got to town, the bigger the odds of them being involved in a multiple vehicle accident grew to be. We turned the sharp corner right before the back road highway veered into a downtown four lane, and I gasped, stopping just short of grabbing Blake's arm while he drove. There, in a ditch was Old Blue.

  "Shit, Blake, it's them. Pull over." He already had it in park and was cussing up a bl
ue streak, interspersing the words with mumbled threats that made me fear for the state of Merry's behind when he finished with her. "Calm down, Blake." I hopped out of the truck and started across the road. "Let's just hope they are all right."

  I hadn't even made it to the car when the driver's side door shoved open. I held my breath and watched Merry awkwardly climb out, running straight for me and propelling herself into my waiting arms. "I knew you'd find us! I'm so sorry. Nan made me. Blake's going to kill me. I deserve it. I'm so sorry." The words were jumbled together and mumbled into my chest, but I was able to get the basic gist.

  Grabbing her bottom, I lifted her into the air, wrapping her legs around my waist. "I'm so glad you're okay, little one. How's Nan?"

  Merry pulled away and frowned. "Okay, I think. Unconscious, but she did wake up for a bit. She knew what day it was and knew enough to reassure me that you would find us soon, before going back out. But, she did hit her head, and I don't know how we are going to get her out. And my phone was dead, and I don't even think I have your numbers, and I was so scared!"

  "Okay, little one, okay." I looked across the road to where Blake was standing, leaning into the Buick as he assessed the situation. He turned and motioned for me to join him, and I looked at Merry helplessly. "I'm going to put you in Blake's truck, now, and go help Nan. We need to get you both to a hospital."

  I saw the fear light into her eyes and remembered belatedly that she hated doctors and avoided them like the plague. There was no time to worry about that fact, now. I carried her to the truck and hoisted her in , wrapping my jacket around her shoulders to keep her warm. "I'll be back in a little bit, sweetheart," I reassured her, taking note of her trembling body, and turning the truck on and the heater with it.