by Kate Pearce
During an earlier struggle, Ry had taken Chase’s cell away from him. He’d promised to return it after the ceremony. Avery had blown him a kiss when she’d passed by, and he handed it over to her, which had made him feel like a hero. Soft music wafted over him in the still air. Ry couldn’t see where the live band had been hidden. It was definitely a classy wedding, but somehow it still fit with the ranch and their family.
BB was up front with Chase, wearing his fancy Marine uniform and attracting a lot of covert glances from the female guests. He only had eyes for Jenna, who was sitting behind him in the row reserved for close family. Maria was upstairs with January, getting changed into her bridesmaid outfit, which just left him, HW, Ruth, and Billy to get up the aisle. He checked the top button of his new shirt. Thank God Chase hadn’t insisted on tuxes and had gone for a cowboy theme.
Someone touched his arm, and he turned to see Avery all dressed up, her hair piled in loose curls on the top of her head and her blue dress shimmering under the soft lights.
“Wow.”
“Wow what?” She still had her earpiece on and looked busy.
“You are so beautiful.”
She raised her chin and studied him right back. “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”
“Seeing as you picked out exactly what HW and I were going to wear, I suppose you would say that.”
“Only to you.” She cupped his chin. “HW looks okay, but—”
A snort behind him made Ry look over his shoulder to see his twin, who was wearing almost exactly the same gear as he was. He winked at his brother.
“Well, they do say true love is blind.”
“And I do love you,” Avery added, and kissed his cheek.
HW groaned. “Don’t tell me there’s going to be another wedding around here. I’ve got to get through BB and Jenna’s next.”
Avery stepped out of Ry’s arms. “And I’ve got to get everyone through this one first. Are you all ready? Billy, can you escort Ruth, and can you two boys follow them up the aisle?”
“Boys?” Ry questioned.
“You know what I mean.” She made a shushing notion at him. “Move it.”
He progressed down the aisle, seeing familiar faces from the town and a collection of hippie types from the commune where January had grown up. Apparently, she had several half siblings because the commune had been founded in the spirit of free love, whatever that meant. They’d all turned up for the wedding, which had made January very happy.
Chase turned to greet them when they arrived at the front, and accepted a kiss from his grandmother. Ry couldn’t help noticing that his usually calm and confident brother was as pale as his white cotton shirt. He shook hands with Chase and then gave him a manly hug.
Ry patted his shoulder. “It’s all good, Chase. Avery’s got everything right on schedule.”
“Actually, according to my calculations, she’s running five minutes late.”
Ry gave his bro the look, and Chase shut up.
They all filed into their front-row seats. He left the one on the end vacant for Avery, and hoped she’d make it. The music changed, and the volume increased. Ry craned his neck to look backward, where he could just see a white figure accompanied by Roy in his cowboy best, coming up the aisle.
January’s dress wasn’t huge, and it didn’t have one of those long train things that he’d never seen the point of. It was lacy and delicate, and just right on her. He guessed Chase wasn’t looking at the dress anyway, because January’s brilliant smile was all he needed to see. When they reached the front, Roy kissed the bride and took his seat while Chase looked even more petrified.
HW nudged him. “Do you think he’s gonna puke?”
“Maybe.” Ry considered his normally unflappable brother, who seemed unable to form words as he stared at his bride. “Or pass out.”
“Cool.”
“Dearly beloved . . .”
Ry stood with the rest of the congregation and listened carefully to the local Morgantown preacher as he extolled the virtues of marriage and set about making Chase and January husband and wife.
Avery slipped into the seat beside him, her cheeks flushed, and he took her hand. It didn’t take him long to imagine himself up there saying the words that would bind him to Avery for the rest of his life. He glanced down at her. Would she go for that? Today was not the day to ask, when she was so caught up ensuring this wedding went off without a hitch. But the idea scared him a lot less than he’d anticipated, and the benefits of having Avery sharing his life outweighed everything else.
The thought of having a family of his own still scared the crap out of him. How could he have kids when his memories of being a child were so painful? But he’d learned something important from Avery about taking those small steps to get back into something. He’d have to start with the whole relationship and marriage thing, have an honest conversation with Avery about his fears, and take it from there.
So he had a future, and a plan. Everything that had brought him to this point, good and bad, had somehow given him everything he had ever wanted. He swallowed hard, and Avery offered him her handkerchief, which he scorned. He had nothing to cry about anymore. He was one very happy, very lucky cowboy.
* * *
Avery kicked off her shoes and surveyed the dance floor, where the newly married couple was wrapped in each other’s arms dancing—if you could call it that—to something romantic. She loved this part of the wedding. Now all she had to watch out for were the drunks and the criers, and her evening would be complete.
Chase had grabbed hold of her earlier and thanked her for everything she’d done to make the wedding a success. He’d followed up by offering her the job at the ranch, which had made her very happy indeed. Marley wasn’t going to like it, but there was definitely something going on with her that she needed to sort out before committing herself to staying home for at least another year.
Avery smiled as Chase gave her a thumbs-up from the dance floor. He was so besotted with January that he’d forgotten to ask for his cell phone back. She would have to remember to hand it over to Ruth before she left. If she gave it to one of the other Morgan brothers, she doubted Chase would ever see it again.
“Would you like to dance?”
She turned to find HW grinning down at her.
“Sure, as long as you don’t pretend to be Ry and kiss me.”
“Busted.” He traced a cross over his heart. “I promise I’ll behave.”
She allowed him to lead her out onto the dance floor and gather her close.
“Thank you, Avery.”
“It did go rather well, didn’t it?” Avery smiled up at him.
“Not for this—although you did a fantastic job—but for looking after Ry.”
“He doesn’t need looking after.”
“Yeah, he does. I never thought about what he’d been through with Mom much. I was too busy trying to survive my part of it.” He grimaced. “But he needs to be loved unconditionally for himself, and you get that.”
“Well, duh. He’s easy to love.”
“Yeah, but I’m glad it’s you he loves back.” He kissed her forehead. “I know he’s in safe hands.”
“Certainly safer than yours.”
“Dude, I’m his twin. I was born to drive him crazy.”
Avery cupped his cheek. “Take care of yourself, too, won’t you? Come back and see him. He misses you a lot more than you might realize.”
“Let me get through the next few weeks and the finals and I’ll get back to you on that, okay?”
“Sure.”
For the first time, Avery had a sense that whatever had happened to Ry had also affected HW quite deeply. Typically, he wasn’t ready to share how he felt, and he might never open up to her. She hoped with all her heart that he found his peace and someone to share his life with. Under that high-gloss exterior, he and Ry weren’t that much different after all.
“Ry’s spotted us. How long do you think it wi
ll take him to get over here and interrupt?” HW said. “Damn, he’s fast.”
He stepped back and kissed Avery’s hand. “Thanks for the dance.”
“You’re welcome, and good luck in the finals. We’ll be in the stands cheering you on.”
She hadn’t been to Las Vegas for the finals since her accident, hadn’t wanted to risk seeing anyone she knew live out her dreams. Ry put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her tight. She had new dreams now, and a different life, with so much to look forward to. Ry had helped her manage those few faltering steps to jump off the cliff and find her own kind of freedom. She liked to think she would’ve done it all by herself eventually, but the extra little push certainly hadn’t hurt.
And even better . . . he’d been there to catch her.
A lone figure dressed in jeans and carrying a backpack was walking down the slope from the ranch house, toward the dance floor. Ry and HW noticed at the same time Avery did.
“Who’s that?” HW asked.
“No one I know,” Ry replied. “Is it one of the catering staff?”
“They’re all in uniform, and none of them should be heading home yet,” Avery said. “Or I’ll want to know why.”
Ry reclaimed her hand as she started back up the slope, and she was glad of the support. A whole day on her feet had killed her hip. The figure went still as they approached, and waited for them. Light glinted on hair as blond as the twins’.
“May I help you with something?” Ry called out.
The woman turned toward them and shifted her backpack onto one shoulder, her bright blue eyes widening at the sight of them.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize there was a wedding going on or I wouldn’t have come.”
Beside her the twins had gone equally still.
“Dad’s eyes,” Ry muttered.
“Yeah . . .” HW replied. “And our hair.”
The woman cleared her throat. “From looking at you two, I think I must be in the right place. My name’s Rachel Ford.” She searched their faces. “Or it might once have been Rachel Morgan.”
RUTH’S POT ROAST FOR RY
Ingredients
One 4- to 5-pound chuck roast
2 Tbs olive oil (or one tablespoon each olive oil and butter)
2 onions
6–8 carrots
Salt (optional)
Pepper to taste
1 cup red wine (beef broth can be substituted)
2–3 cups beef stock
3 sprigs fresh thyme, or 1 tsp dried
3 sprigs fresh rosemary, or 1 tsp dried
Instructions
Choose a nicely marbled piece of meat. This will enhance the flavor of your pot roast like nothing else. Salt and pepper your chuck roast and preheat the oven to 275° F.
Heat a large pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Then add the olive oil (or butter and olive oil).
Cut two onions in half and cut carrots into 2-inch slices. When the oil in the pot is very hot (but not smoking), add in the halved onions, browning them on one side and then the other. Remove the onions to a plate.
Throw the carrots into the same very hot pan and toss them around until slightly browned, about a minute or so.
Place the meat in the pan and sear it for about a minute on all sides until it is nice and brown all over. Remove the roast to a plate.
With the burner still on medium-high, use either red wine or beef broth to deglaze the pan, scraping the bottom with a whisk to get all the flavor up.
When the bottom of the pan is sufficiently deglazed, place the roast back into the pan and add enough beef stock to cover the meat halfway. Add in the onion and the carrots, as well as rosemary and thyme.
Put the lid on, then roast in a 275° F. oven for 4 hours.
Did you miss the first book in Kate Pearce's Morgan Ranch series? Keep reading for a special sneak peek of . . .
After a turbulent childhood, the Morgan brothers went their separate ways, leaving the family cattle ranch and their cowboy days far behind. But now, one by one, they're being called back home to California. Have they been summoned to save the land—or to start a new legacy?
Chase Morgan high-tailed it away from ranching life as soon as possible. But running a successful technology company can't erase the memories, or secrets, of his youth. Coming home to help his Grandma Ruth may finally put some ghosts to rest--if he can just get a certain smart, beautiful houseguest out of his business. But getting her out of his head is proving even more difficult…
Determined to save the Morgan ranch, historian January Mitchell has pinned her hopes on the surprisingly rugged, surprisingly likable, and exasperatingly stubborn Chase. Surely his love of this breathtaking, mysterious land runs deep enough that he'll once again embrace his inner cowboy. Or maybe, despite both of their skittish hearts, she'll have to find a way to get him back in the saddle…any which way she can.
“If you love cowboys—and who doesn't—you'll love the Morgans!” —Cora Seton, New York Times bestselling author
Click here to get your copy!
Chapter One
Northern California.
“You have arrived at your destination.”
“I damn well have not,” Chase Morgan muttered as he checked his GPS again and frowned as the narrow blue line he’d been following just blinked on a whole lot of nothing.
Pulling over onto the side of what barely passed as a road, he got out of his rental car and surveyed the landscape. Scorched golden hills, scurries of dust, the occasional thirst-defying plant, and beyond that the brooding black presence of the eastern side of the Sierra Nevada mountain range still topped with snow in March. It was a torturous, slow journey from the Bay Area and one that he chose not to make too often.
He cleaned his sunglasses on the hem of his white polo shirt and peered ahead. Had it always been this bleak? Somewhere around here was a gate that marked the driveway of Morgan Ranch. As a kid he’d known exactly where it was, so what had changed? Maybe he should’ve gotten a truck. The drive would’ve been easier and the vantage point higher.
There wasn’t a lot else on the road, just the abandoned ghost town of Morgansville, which was on ranch property but still attracted those curious and stupid enough to try to get through the electric fence. Chase turned in a slow circle. He was so used to the noise of Silicon Valley that the silence hurt his head. Hearing his heart beating was downright unnerving....
A turkey vulture flew overhead squawking a warning, and he instinctively ducked. He was such a city boy now. His younger self who’d practically grown up on the ranch would have been disgusted by his wussiness. He got back in the car, relishing the cold blast of the AC, and moved forward at a snail’s pace.
There.
His faint smile faded. The overhead sign had fallen down, leaving just the gate, which appeared to have been propped open. Despite the relatively short distance from the Bay Area, he hadn’t been to the ranch for a couple of years, preferring to meet his grandmother in the city. Reaching inside his pocket he extracted the handwritten letter he’d received two weeks ago. She hated talking on the phone.
Darling boy, your grandma Ruth needs you. Come at once.
P.S. No, I’m not dying, but come anyway.
Short and sweet, just like his grandma. Well, maybe sweet was stretching it a bit. For a little bitty woman she sure packed a punch. He remembered how she used to wade in and separate him and his three brothers when the fighting got out of hand. She said she’d gotten strong wrangling calves and that small boys were much easier to deal with.
His grandma was a pill. It had taken him the whole two weeks to get organized enough to leave work. He had a feeling her problems wouldn’t go away, and a few days wouldn’t make much difference. He pushed the gate open wide enough to let his car through and closed it behind him.
Was Ruth even running any cattle? Surely not, if she’d risked leaving the gate ajar. He winced as the rental car bounced over and dove straight into another huge
pothole in the road. He should’ve gotten a four-wheel drive. Real men, real cowboys always drove trucks. And he should’ve been paying more attention to what was going on with his grandma.
He concentrated on weaving through the potholes until the drive widened out into a large circle. To his left was one of the old barns and to his right the ranch house with its wraparound porch and dainty Victorian railings. The roof was slate, imported at great cost after the original house with its shingles had gone up in flames.
Chase got out of the car and paused to stretch the kinks out of his tall frame. The door of the ranch house opened, and several dogs came out barking and yowling. He tensed as they all barreled toward him.
“Is that you, TC?” His grandma hollered over the barking dogs.
“Afternoon, Ruth.” He grinned as she came toward him, smacking a few of the noisier dogs on the head as they crowded around her. “One grandson as ordered.”
She reached up to cup his chin, her blue eyes in her wrinkled face as clear as the California sky. “Chase, darling. You look more and more like your daddy.”
He grimaced. “Don’t say that. He’s a bad man.”
“He certainly was a fool to throw away a fine family like this one.” She patted Chase’s cheek. “Come on in.”
He followed her up the three steps to the porch, noticing that the house needed painting and that several of the planks on the deck were rotted right through. The screen door banged shut behind them as they entered the cool darkness of the kitchen. Inside, everything was fifty years out of date and as neat as a pin, which somehow gladdened Chase’s heart. Ruth might be getting old, but she certainly wasn’t losing her faculties.
