A Cowboy's Homecoming

by Leigh Riker

  “Friends? We could start there again,” he said with a winsome look that turned her heart. Kate had also entertained that notion before. “That’s pretty simple, even basic, right? What do you say?”

  A small voice called again, “Mom! Come on, I’m hungry!”

  “Teddie, I’m on my way.” She ran a light finger across Noah’s cheek. “That is life at Sweetheart Ranch. My life anyway.”

  “Maybe, where you and I are concerned, you need to change things up a little.” He nipped at her finger, then gave her a rueful look. “Ah, Kate.”

  He didn’t have to say the rest. He knew that as soon as Willow came home, he would be free to leave. Kate and Teddie would stay on Sweetheart Ranch because she and Noah led opposite lives on different sides of the country. She was still an everyday cowgirl in jeans, and he was a cybersecurity expert in a three-piece suit, striding the concrete canyons of the city. She’d always known how different they were, but until today, blaming Noah had kept her safe.

  Still. It had been more than a year since she’d been embraced by any male except Teddie—eighteen months, really, since Rob had left home, and on those few weekends when her husband had come back, they had quarreled. Bitterly, toward the end, and far from the ideal marriage she had wanted. The last time, one of them had uttered the word divorce.

  Kate had spent the past year protecting herself and Teddie, but the warm gleam now in Noah’s eyes told her clearly that he wanted more. What if she did too? What kind of longer-term arrangement could she and Noah work out? That didn’t seem likely. She wanted to weep for him, for herself.

  Sweetheart Ranch was her future, and Teddie’s. Not a new relationship that might, in the end, hurt everyone.

  * * *

  “WELL, MY,” NOAH’S mother said, looking way too pleased. “I never saw that coming.”

  Noah leaned against the kitchen door frame and stared at the floor. Jean had just mopped it, and the tile glistened in the sun coming through the skylight and the window above the sink. It hadn’t taken long for him, because of Kate’s reaction, to regret what he’d done yesterday in her bathroom—only a day after he’d ended things with Margot.

  “Kissing her wasn’t the wisest thing I ever did.”

  “And why not?”

  He should have known what his mom’s response would be, yet Noah hadn’t been able to keep from telling her. Another error, perhaps, on his part. He hadn’t thought beforehand; he’d blurted out the words.

  “I know what I said—we should start with friendship, see where that led, but I can’t make her any promises. I don’t live here, Mom.”

  “Planes fly both east and west, you know. People have long-distance relationships all the time, and who knows, indeed, where that might lead? Situations change. So do people. Take you and Margot, for instance.”

  Noah had said much the same himself. “Yeah, but Kate’s not most people. She’s planted at Sweetheart Ranch as if her feet are in cement.” He couldn’t see her pulling free, bending, going anywhere else, even entertaining the possibility of a future together.

  “She’s still grieving, Noah. So is little Teddie. But she didn’t know the truth before. Now she does.” Jean set the mop in the corner. “I’ve made no secret of my opinion that you and Kate would be grand together. Forget the difference in your lifestyles or where you both live. You complement each other. Yes, she’s something of a recluse these days, but that could be temporary. Who knows? By this time next year, she could be flying with you to London—”

  “Which reminds me. You need to renew your passport. As soon as we open J&B’s branch there, you can see for yourself.”

  “It’s a great city, but I’d rather you show Kate the sights. Can you imagine Teddie’s joy at riding on the London Eye?”

  Noah could envision exactly that, touring them around, eating in his favorite restaurant, taking the city’s famous black cabs and red double-decker buses just for fun. Seeing Kate in his apartment, laughing as Teddie jabbed the buttons on Noah’s private elevator. Having wine on the balcony with Kate after Teddie was in bed, holding hands as they took in the sparkling nighttime view. Kissing her again. Lots more.

  His mom continued with her positive spin on the topic. “Kate’s a fine person, warmhearted, loyal—”

  Inwardly, he groaned. “To her husband’s memory most of all.”

  “—a wonderful mother. My grandchildren couldn’t have a better one.”

  “I’ll leave that coming generation to Willow and Cody.”

  His mother sent him an exasperated look. “Just when I’ve gotten my youngest married, Zach is engaged and you finally make a move with Kate, you dig in your heels. What am I going to do with you?” She hesitated. “The obstacles you mention are not fixed in stone. If you want to work things out with her, first convince her that being friends is only that initial step—then trust in fate. She has forgiven you, hasn’t she? For something you weren’t guilty of in the first place? The rest is minor.”

  “Is it? I carry the proof of that accident, Mom.”

  “Kate saw your scar, and that changed her view.”

  “She’d be seeing it every day if we did take our ‘relationship’ further.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “You didn’t seem to feel that way yesterday.”

  “And I shouldn’t have told you.”

  Jean crossed the kitchen to slip her arms around him. “Noah, the one thing that does really matter is your feelings for Kate. Maybe you should tell her, not focus on that kiss and let her think that’s all it was.”

  “I don’t think she’s ready.” If she ever would be.

  “She might simply need a nudge.”

  But with his sister due home, the reminder that he’d always planned to leave here was sharp. Maybe he would do them both a favor if he tried to forget Kate. That thought hadn’t left his mind before he rejected it. But if only they could have—what? He’d seen her reaction to his scar, felt her arms around him, her lips on his skin. Compassion, that’s all it had likely been. An adjustment to her opinion of the accident and his role in Rob’s death.

  “Mom, you’re dreaming again,” he said at last.

  “Am I? Or are you trying to wiggle out of something that could be the best thing to ever happen to you?” She might have said: As you did years ago when you left the WB.

  Noah couldn’t answer that. He eased from her embrace, then left the kitchen, silently vowing to get back to business—his own future—instead.

  Still, he felt a definite pang in the area where his heart should be.

  But his mother was right about one thing: he should at least talk to Kate before he left.

  * * *

  “AND LOOK WHAT has already happened.” Coffee mug in hand, after she had told Meg about the kiss she’d shared with Noah, Kate waited for her aunt’s reaction. When that didn’t come, she said, “I betrayed Rob’s memory with the very man who took him from me.” The words, said perhaps in self-protection, rang hollow. She’d seen his scar.

  “You still believe that?”

  Kate frowned. “Well, not after I heard the rest of the story. But I know I made the right decision to avoid any deeper connection with Noah.”

  “But Teddie likes him. I do too,” Meg added.

  Kate couldn’t disagree. She liked him herself, more than she should.

  Meg paused. “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself. Noah asked you to be friends, not to marry him.”

  She had a point. Maybe it was only Kate who’d briefly imagined more.

  “Our lives—mine and Teddie’s—were completely upended when Rob was killed. Teddie hasn’t processed that loss yet—”

  “But he’s starting to, Kate. Yesterday, Noah was a huge part of that.”

  She took a sip of her now-cold coffee. “I’m grateful, but I should have ended the kiss.”

  �
�Teddie needs a father, and you could use a man to shoulder some of the burden you’ve been carrying.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of running Sweetheart Ranch. I’m sure Noah can’t wait to leave the WB again.”

  “How can you say that? Take the foal, which Noah could have left with you, then washed his hands of the whole business. Instead, he’s been here every day when he could have sent the WB’s foreman. Doesn’t it occur to you that he came over to see you too? I cannot believe how dense you’re being.”

  “No denser than you seem to be about Mac. Tell me. Do you or do you not keep one eye on your cell or the landline phone every night? When he doesn’t call, you should see your face.”

  Meg looked forlorn. “That is absolutely false. But in case you didn’t hear, he’s planning to make good on his idle threat to come see me. I doubt he’ll actually show up, but if he does, I will set him straight. More likely, he’ll jet off to Cairo or Shanghai, instead.”

  “Mac’s coming here? When?”

  “He didn’t say. All I got was, ‘You should have answered your phone more often.’ He blows in and out of my life—or did—whenever he pleases. See what I mean? If you’d been there when I...had my miscarriage, you’d understand. I will never go through something like that again, certainly not with a man whose first thought in the morning, his last at night, must still be about his next flight.”

  “I didn’t know you were a mind reader.”

  “He wasn’t even there!”

  Kate paused with a sympathetic look. “I know how painful that was for you—”

  “No, you don’t. You can’t. By then, there was nothing left—if there ever had been.” She took a breath. “That’s how I still feel. About him.”

  “Do you? Then tell me I wasn’t seeing things yesterday with you and Gabe. If what you say is true, you have a wide-open opportunity to make a new life for yourself.” Her voice shook. “It’s different for me. I need to stay focused on Sweetheart Ranch and Teddie. We’ve had too many losses. I can’t think of anything beyond friendship with Noah—even that will only cause more heartbreak when he leaves.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I don’t have the same chance you could with Gabe or...Mac. If that were me, I’d throw my arms around Rob and try again.”

  “You have the chance,” Meg murmured. “You just won’t take it.”

  “My husband is dead! Yours is not.”

  “I mean with Noah. How long are you going to play the grieving widow? There’s more out there, Kate, for you and Teddie.”

  Kate couldn’t believe she’d said that. The grieving widow. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said, “except down to the barn.”

  As she started toward the back door, she heard it open, then close again, and footsteps crossed the kitchen floor. Kate stopped and Bandit began to bark.

  “Evening, ladies,” said a rich male voice they both recognized. And, having kept his promise, Jonathan “Mac” McClaren stepped into the room.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  ALL AT ONCE, chaos had descended on the normally peaceful house.

  “Bandit, stop,” Meg sharply reprimanded the dog. He was jumping, wriggling, his tail going a mile a minute. “What are you doing here?” she asked Mac, certain her heart would burst from her chest.

  “Just got back from Dubai. Told you I was coming.”

  “You didn’t say when.”

  “Yes, I did. Guess you chose not to hear me.”

  How typical of him to put the blame on her, but Bandit didn’t seem to share her opinion. Mac bent down to pat the dancing shepherd, then stood again. Meg continued to stare at her ex-husband. “I thought you’d finally given up.”

  “You hoped,” he said with the smile that had once captured her heart, then shattered it into broken glass. Gently, he disengaged Bandit from his chest, where the dog, up on his hind legs now, was pushing against him.

  Meg couldn’t help but note that solid wall of muscle. She had to give him credit: he kept himself in shape. In fact, he looked great, relaxed and well, except for his eyes. Now she could see regret and, worse, a bit of hope in their dark brown depths. “Some people know when to cut their losses,” she said, sounding weaker than she’d planned.

  He set down his duffel bag. “Maybe we’re not a loss.”

  “Oh, but we were.”

  Kate, standing next to Meg, made a small noise. “Listen, guys. I’m, uh, going to check the horses. Teddie’s already in the barn with Gabe. Give you some privacy to talk.” She moved to hug Mac. “You can have the spare room.”

  “He’s not staying here,” Meg said. “He can find a motel. For one night.”

  “Nonsense.” Kate tried to send her a look. “We have plenty of room.”

  Mac waited until Kate left before he spoke. “All right, you want to kick this off by rehashing the past, we will.” He took her hand in his warm grasp. “I admit, we went through some rough times—my travel, the endless renovations on the house, those long separations...the baby,” he added softly. “After that, things fell apart, but they can be mended.”

  She pulled away. “You always were a romantic. At marriage, however, you flunked.”

  “Meg, don’t try to tell me you’re blameless. You knew when we married that I’d be gone a lot. Too much at times, maybe, yeah, but other people make that work.”

  Reminded of her quarrel with Kate, Meg didn’t respond. He had no idea how empty their half-finished house, in which Mac still lived, had felt whenever he was away. Or did he by now? She never wanted to feel that lonely again, that lost inside herself.

  “I wanted to save whatever we still had then,” he said, “but you packed up and left. How do you think I felt when I got that message on my phone?”

  “Kate needed me. She’d just lost Rob—”

  “Yes, she had, but you didn’t come back,” he insisted. “I’m still rattling around in that big house by myself. Everything I see—the new bathroom, the garden, your dream kitchen, our bed—is a reminder of what we could have kept together. You know what? Kate could have handled her loss, as dreadful as that was. She’s a strong person.” He thought for a moment. “Or did you think you could find the child we never had—here, in Teddie?”

  Meg gasped, as she had when she first saw him in the doorway like a ghost from her previous life, the one that didn’t suit her anymore. She needed to take Kate’s advice, start that new life. “I like Sweetheart Ranch. I always did. Maybe my mistake was in thinking I could love Chicago.”

  “Love me,” he said, those two words sounding more like a question.

  “Mac.” Her heart twisted at the tone of his voice. In spite of his normally brash exterior, the way he had always overwhelmed her arguments, he did sound lost too.

  He ran a hand over the nape of his neck. “Can we argue later? I got up at three this morning to catch the six a.m. flight from O’Hare. Right now, I feel like the worst case of jet lag ever.” He had, after all, flown halfway around the world and back before he hopped another plane to see her.

  “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? Like always, you made your choice.”

  “Come on, Meg. Bend a little. It won’t hurt—much.”

  She thought for a moment before she gave in. “Well, since you’ve come all this way—uninvited, I might add—it seems we do need to settle this, once and for all. We both need closure.”

  He shook his head, overhead light streaming through his dark hair. “How you can manage to turn this into some kind of business deal or another version of our divorce agreement beats me. But whatever,” he said. “Is that your best and final?”

  “Yes.” She certainly wasn’t about to renegotiate their broken marriage. It didn’t exist.

  He turned toward the stairs. “Then I’m going to try to get some sleep. I don’t know if I’m in the desert or on the Kansas plains. If it’s m
idnight or noon.”

  “Try noon,” she said and couldn’t suppress a half smile. “You know where the spare room is.”

  As soon as he hit the first step, her smile faded. She’d never intended to see him again, yet Meg could smell the familiar scent of his citrusy aftershave, the cold, fresh air from outdoors that clung to his coat, still feel the warmth of his touch, see the hurt in his eyes. She’d been afraid of this.

  Maybe she wasn’t that different from Kate—and her obvious confusion about Noah.

  If Meg had moved on, at the moment, it didn’t feel that way.

  * * *

  NOAH HAD FINISHED his chores for the day and was heading for the house at dinnertime when a quick toot of the horn had him stepping back out of the way. He didn’t recognize the vehicle, which braked to a stop.

  The driver’s window rolled down. “Hey, Noah,” Cody Jones called.

  Noah’s sister didn’t say a word. From the passenger seat, Willow merely stared at him, as if she hadn’t known Noah would be here. She sat, stone faced, when Cody got out of the car.

  Tall and with wheat-blond hair, he stuck out a hand. “Glad to see you, man. Thanks for taking over while we were gone.”

  Noah thought of pointing out that he’d had little choice but didn’t.

  This was the moment he’d been waiting for. He should be turning cartwheels in his head. Instead, he folded his arms and watched Willow fuss with her bag, then finally emerge from the car. “Well,” she said, looking him up and down, “if it isn’t my wayward big brother.”

  Noah’s gaze skimmed her from flowing blond hair to cornflower blue eyes. “You look good, kiddo.” And happy. Her skin had a light tan, probably acquired on their cruise, and she glowed like the newlywed she was, deeply in love with her husband. In Noah’s mind, their marriage seemed preordained, as if she and Cody had wed long ago before their painful breakup then reunion. “Have a nice time in Savannah?”

  “And everywhere else,” Cody put in, an arm slung around her shoulders. “I finally had to tell my girl we needed to get home.”