Ridden Hard: A Surprise Baby Romance (Ryker Ranch Book 3)

by Kim Loraine

  Penny and Ever were helping Sera hang a lighted wreath over the big front room window while Mama and Hazel used a needle and thread to make popcorn and cranberry garland for the tree. I couldn’t help but smile. I hadn’t been home for longer than a few days at a time until this year. I usually missed all of this. The preparing, the traditions, the nights spent by the fire watching movies, sharing stories, playing cards at the old kitchen table.

  Fuck, this tree was heavy. The spiky needles poked into my arm even through the thick fabric of my flannel shirt. “All right, boys, let’s get this beast set up.”

  Clint chuckled. “Goin’ soft in your old age, Sammy.”

  “You’re older than me.”

  “Come on, guys, I’m the one trapped at the ass end of this thi—”

  “Tristan Nicholas, I know I didn’t just hear you curse in my house,” Mama interrupted Tristan and the rest of us snickered.

  “Sorry, Mama.”

  We settled the giant tree in front of the window and let the girls dictate whether it was straight or not. After a few tries, we had it locked in, and Mama gave her seal of approval.

  “I think this is the biggest tree we’ve ever had,” Tristan said, sauntering over to his new bride.

  Hazel’s smile had been wide and bright as she watched my brother carry the admittedly heaviest part of the tree, but now that he was sitting beside her, she looked radiant. Her palm rested on her swollen belly, wedding band glinting in the light. I couldn’t believe my baby brother was the second of us to get hitched. He was so damn happy with Hazel. They all were happy. I fought the wave of jealousy that tried to take me under. I gave up my one chance at love a long time ago.

  “Sam, would you bring in some more firewood? And let the ranch hands know I’ve got hot cider ready in the kitchen. They’re all welcome to come get some.”

  My chest tightened. I hadn’t talked to most of them for more than a few minutes at a time since I came home. I liked working on my own. It was why my bull riding days were so right for me. It was just me and the bull, no one else to tell me what to do. “Sure, Mama.”

  I strode through the living room and down the hall until I reached the kitchen. The back door opened and Tucker stepped inside, snow on his shoulders, his hat hiding his eyes. He took off the dark felt Stetson and hung it on the hook, locking gazes with me as he began shrugging out of the heavy coat he wore.

  “Sammy,” he said, brow furrowed.

  “Don’t call me that.”

  I might as well have clocked him. He flinched, the hurt in his eyes making my stomach twist. “Sorry. I just… Mama mentioned the tree was going up today. I brought her something to add.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out an ornament, a beautiful hand-carved stallion that looked like it was running in the wind.

  “She’ll love it.”

  He shrugged. “Had a bit of extra time while I was recovering.”

  Holding out my hand, I waited for him to give the ornament to me, but he looked at my palm like it might hurt him. Then his fingers brushed mine, and the present was there.

  “Tucker!” Mama called, pure joy in her exclamation. Tucker jumped and pulled his hand away, shame coloring his cheeks. God, that hurt.

  “How’s the tree?” he asked.

  “Large,” she admitted. “But perfect. Did Sam tell you the cider is ready?”

  His gaze flicked to mine. “Not yet. I was showing him your new ornament.”

  Her eyes brightened. “Oh, you brought it?”

  Nodding, he waited for me to pass it to her. The smile she gave me when I handed the horse to her made my heart swell. Seeing her happy changed the tone in the entire room.

  “It’s so beautiful, Tucker. You really have a gift.”

  “I’m glad you like it, ma’am. I’ll just let the rest of the hands know the cider is ready for them. I noticed your firewood supply is running a little low. Justin can chop some for you in the morning.”

  “That’d be fine, Tuck.” Mama looked from me to Tucker, then down at her ornament. “I’m gonna put this on the tree.”

  She left the two of us in the kitchen, the silence heavy. I let my gaze land everywhere but him.

  He stepped toward me, one hand outstretched. “Sam—“

  “I have firewood to get. Cider’s in the slow cooker.” I rushed away from him, not able to handle him touching me again. Tucker Weston was more than our most seasoned, loyal, reliable ranch hand.

  He was the man I’d spent one intense summer of discovery with. The one I’ve never been able to get over. The one who broke my heart into jagged shards that had been stabbing me ever since, and the reason I stayed away for so long.

  I’d known seeing Tucker again was going to be hard. I never imagined it would be impossible.

  Epilogue

  Tristan

  “Tristan, you better get your pretty boy behind back to the lodge,” Buck’s voice came over the radio, sending my heart lurching.

  I turned Wildfire around, happy he’d finally started obeying without a fight. “What’s happening? Is something wrong?”

  “Your wife is swearing a blue streak and refuses to go to the clinic. Her water broke about five minutes ago. I’m not equipped to handle delivering a baby.”

  Oh. My. God. It was time. Hazel insisted she’d be able to deliver at home, and the closer we got to her due date, the more worried I’d become. But she’d told me her due date would come and go before our baby arrived. She’d been wrong. Exactly on time. This kid was punctual.

  “Let’s go, boy,” I said, leaning down close to Wildfire’s ear before applying pressure to his ribs with my heels.

  He took off, flying like the stallion he was. But every passing minute felt like a punishment to me as I thought of Hazel in pain without me by her side to help, to share some of the burden. As soon as the stables came into view, I whistled to get Tucker’s attention from where he was cleaning some tack.

  “Can you put him away? I’m…shit…I’m gonna be a dad. The baby is coming.”

  My blood buzzed with nervous energy, and Tucker grinned, reaching for Wildfire even as I dismounted. He’d been back since just before Christmas, fully recovered and ready to go to work full-time. It’d been a long recovery, and to say we were glad to have him return would have been an understatement. Except for Sam. My brother seemed to dislike the steady ranch hand with a passion. I wondered what had happened between them to cause Sam to hate him so much.

  A loud scream filled the air coming from the direction of my house. I ran, heart pounding, mind racing, toward the woman I loved.

  Bursting through the door, I found her pacing in the kitchen, sweat beading her brow, eyes pained.

  “Fuck, Hazel. Are you okay?”

  She gave me a look that could have killed a man. “Do I look okay?”

  “No.”

  Those big blue eyes flashed with hurt.

  “Shit, darlin’, that’s not what I mean. You’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful. I just meant…you look like this hurts.”

  Grimacing, she hunched over, bracing herself on her knees as she breathed long and slow. I rushed to her side, rubbing her back in soothing circles. “It does. God, it really does.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

  “Clint already called Doc McKallister. He’ll be here any min—” Her voice cut off as another pain sliced through her. She gripped my hand and squeezed hard enough to make me wince.

  “Well, looks like things have gone from zero to sixty pretty fast,” Doc said from the open front door. “Hazel, I think we should get you checked out, see where we are?”

  She whimpered and nodded. “I need to push. That’s where we are.”

  He offered a soft smile and looked at me. “Showtime, Tristan. You’re about to be a daddy. I’m just going to give her an exam, and then I’m pretty sure we’ll have a new Ryker in our midst in pretty short order.”

  Shit. This was it. This was the last
moment I had before my life changed forever.

  An hour later, I watched my son be born, brought into the world by the most beautiful, bravest, strongest woman I’ve ever known. Hazel cried as she held him to her chest, kissing his wrinkled little forehead and soothing him as he wailed. My whole world was right here in this room. Everything I needed. Everything I wanted.

  Doc excused himself to give the three of us some privacy after making sure Hazel was all right. He assured me he’d deliver the good news to Mama and the rest of the family. Thank fuck for that, because the last thing I wanted to do was leave them.

  “Want to hold him?” Hazel asked.

  My chest was tight, my throat clogged with emotion. Hot tears filled my eyes and blurred my vision. “Yeah.”

  I took him from her arms and smiled down at…fuck…my son.

  “What should we name him?” she asked.

  “George,” I answered immediately. “George Alan Ryker.”

  Her smile sent a warm wave of love through me. “That’s the perfect name.”

  I sat on the bed with her next to me and our baby in my arms. “Welcome home, Georgie. Your mama and I love you so much.”

  Hazel leaned her head against my shoulder, and I pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “I’m so glad I let my sister talk me into going to that dive bar in search of cowboys.”

  “Me too, darlin’. Me too.”

  Keep reading for a taste of Sam & Tucker’s story,

  ROPED TIGHT.

  Coming in spring of 2021

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  ROPED TIGHT

  A SECOND CHANCE ROMANCE

  Ten years ago

  Sam

  “Twenty-one. Finally. And a shiny new buckle to add to your growing collection,” my older brother Clint said, raising his beer and waiting for me to do the same. I grinned like an idiot, staring down at the proof that my bull riding career was just getting started. From here, I could go places. I could make something of myself. Make my dad proud.

  “It’s not like we haven’t had our share of beers at the pond.” I chuckled under my breath as I clinked my glass to his.

  “Yeah, but I’m tired of Travis being my only company out here.”

  “Fuck you, Clint. I’m sitting right here.” Travis laughed, giving my brother a slight punch in the shoulder. “Besides, you wouldn’t have gotten half the buckle bunnies you’ve had without me.”

  I nearly spit my beer across the table at the look on Clint’s face. But Travis was right. My cousin was a rodeo cowboy, riding with the best of them. Only, he was married, off-limits to the girls who hung around hoping for a piece of the cowboys who won. Travis wouldn’t give them any part of him. He was loyal, even if his wife wasn’t.

  “Yeah, Clint.” I shouldn’t have pushed him, but it was too easy to watch my brother puff up like he had something to prove.

  “I could get any girl here,” he said, frowning as he finished his beer.

  Here meant The Silver Spur. The only bar close to town, and the place every cowboy, ranch hand, and local girl could be found on a Friday night.

  I’d been dying to come to this place for years. Now, it seemed so much smaller than it had in my head. Sawdust covered the floor in a fine layer, the boot tracks already showing the trail of couples dancing, even this early in the night. A honky tonk band played, the slide guitar reminding me of summer nights at the rodeo, but this place…this was different.

  “Come on, you need a shot, a beer, and a girl,” Clint said, getting up and clapping me on the shoulder. “That’s how you ring in your twenty-first.”

  We’d celebrated at home the day before. Mama made my favorite, spaghetti and meatballs, for dinner, and followed it up with her prize winning chocolate cake. It’d been nice, all being together, but this was what I’d been waiting for. My win tonight was the icing on the cake.

  “Trav, you need another?” I asked. He shook his head and jutted his chin toward the group of women who had just come in. His wife and two of her friends. Sighing, I offered him a slight smile and followed Clint to the bar.

  “Ten bucks says they’ll be fighting before the next band starts.”

  Clint chuckled. “Twenty, if she makes a scene.”

  “What can I get you, boys?” The bartender, an older woman with bleach blond hair and tattoos covering both arms winked at me. “It’s your twenty-one run, Sammy. First shot’s on the house.”

  “Tequila, Frankie,” Clint said.

  She grinned and placed two shot glasses on the bar in front of us, filled them, and handed both of us a lemon wedge. Clint shook his head. “Beer chaser.”

  “Happy birthday, Sam.” Frankie winked and moved on to other customers as Clint and I took up our shots.

  The tequila burned all the way down into my belly, but soon I was just warm and relaxed. I leaned against the bar, watching Clint as he caught the eye of a pretty woman near the stage. “Go on,” I murmured, grabbing my beer and taking a swig. “I’m good. Go get yourself some company. You can take my buckle if you want.”

  He laughed. “I don’t need your buckle to get a woman. I do just fine on my own. Not every girl wants a rodeo king.” He left me standing alone, as he sauntered over to her.

  An easy buzz hummed in my blood as the alcohol spread through my system. Everything took on a hazy glow, softened and heated. The sounds of people laughing mixed with the strain of the fiddle player’s solo, and before long, Clint was dancing with a girl, and--right on schedule--Trav was arguing with his wife.

  Amusement curled my lips as I scanned the space. Cowboys looking for somewhere to put their boots for the night, women looking for trouble, and couples revisiting their youth. A pair of dark eyes made me stop my assessment of the bar. I knew that face. Tucker Weston, the newest ranch hand to join our crew, sat in the corner. He had his hat pulled low, hands wrapped around a beer bottle while a woman smiled and flirted with him. He’d been at the rodeo. I’d seen him roping, he was good, too.

  I couldn’t look away from him as he shook his head. He must’ve turned her down, because her shoulders slumped before she vacated the stool across from him. Why did that make me happy? I didn’t really know the guy. I shouldn’t have cared who he spent his time with. But…I sure as fuck did.

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  Ignite

  Want to know more about the Ryker boys’ cousin Travis?

  Ignite is a Ryker Ranch spin-off set in K. Bromberg’s Everyday Heroes world.

  Travis

  My mouth tastes like ashes. Acrid and bitter. I should be used to it by now. The scent of smoke permanently singes my senses, the heat of flames licks at my skin even in my dreams. But today, as I walk away from the firehouse and settle my dark Stetson on my head, the call we’d spent all night on haunts me. It could have gone so much worse.

  It didn’t.

  But fuck, it could’ve.

  Closing my eyes, I brace myself as the memory of the weight of the little girl in my arms hits me like a kick from a stubborn mare. It hurts. If we’d been a minute later we might’ve lost her. Close to twenty years as a firefighter and shit like this still stays with me.

  “Get some rest, lieutenant. We did good.” Declan Byrne’s British accent catches my attention as he waves from his silver Honda Civic, his face so filled with optimistic hope it makes my teeth ache. Poor guy hasn’t had life knee him in the balls more than a few times yet. It makes me sad to think about him ten years from now, a shadow of the young firefighter with a promising future ahead of him.

  Giving him a slight nod, I shove my hands in the pockets of my jacket and stride toward my truck.

  “Ryker,” Chief Long calls from the firehouse door. “Some of the guys are grabbing a bite before heading home. You want in?”

  Three months here and I haven’t gotten to know these guys beyond our time on shift. I should be making an effort, but I spent my career in Sunrise, Montana, working alongside men I grew up with. This was the change I’d needed, but that didn’t make it
easy. “Thanks, man, I gotta get to the stables.”

  He chuckles. “All right, cowboy. Invitation’s open anytime. I don’t know how they did it at your old station, but sometimes we just like to…decompress a little before we take it back to our families, you know? Birdie hates it when I come home with the stress of a bad call on my mind. She’s got enough going on.”

  I clench my palms into fists at the mention of his daughter, of families. “Yeah, well, I got no one to take it home to. Have a good one, chief.”

  I walk away before he can say anything else. I’m not interested in talking it out. My way of dealing has always been, and will always be, on the back of my horse with the quiet of the open air around me. That’s all I need.

  The drive to the ranch where I board my horse is a good thirty minutes away from Silver Lake. I don’t mind the winding roads, but it’s a far cry from the one stoplight town where I grew up. I shake my head to clear away thoughts of that place. It isn’t home anymore—for good reason.

  My phone buzzes from the dock attached to my A/C vent as I pull into the long driveway leading to the entrance of the ranch. A cold pit forms in my stomach as the name Gina flashes on my screen. Shit. I ignore the call and continue until I reach the parking area around the back of the indoor arena.

  But again, the phone buzzes. Gina.

  I answer the call with a lump in my throat and my chest burning as though it were only yesterday that she ripped my heart out.

  “What is it, Gina?” Every ounce of frustration she stirs in me comes through in my harsh tone.

  “Is that really how you talk to your wife?”

  “You’re not my wife anymore.”

  She laughs, a sound that used to make me smile. Now it reminds me of things better left buried. “I’ll always be your wife.”

  “Ex-wife. What do you want?”

  “I want to talk about the house.”

  My gut clenches. I park my truck and kill the engine while my pulse thrums in my ears. “The house?”