Rancher's Son

by Leigh Duncan

  Maybe it was for the best. In all likelihood the kid wasn’t his, and being around Sarah only complicated his life. Now, if he could only get that through to his subconscious, he might be able to get some rest. Last night, it seemed all he’d done was toss and turn. When he had finally fallen into a uneasy sleep, his dreams had been plagued by images of a redhead whose kissable mouth smiled only for him.

  Ty slapped his hat against his leg and forced his thoughts back to the cattle drive. Nodding toward the corral that held a dozen horses, he led the way to the rail.

  “Did you pick yourself a good one this year, Matt?”

  Not that the would-be cowboy could pick a bad one. Ty noted the solid horseflesh milling about the crowded pen. He and Seth had considered every mount on the ranch before choosing the best from among their working stock. Each of the horses was used to herding cattle. Each had its own personality and, with enough spirit to set them above the average dude ranch nag, not one of them would blindly plod along nose-to-tail down a dusty road.

  As he and his guests discussed the relative merits and drawbacks of the horses, Ty fought to keep from scratching his head in frustration. Usually, preparing for the cattle drive buoyed his spirits. But today, his thoughts kept wandering where he didn’t want them to go. While he assigned the gentlest horses to the Garrison family—a father, mother and preteen from just outside St. Paul—he worried that Sarah had made a wrong turn. Helping Matt with a headstrong gelding, he shoved aside that idea. GPS devices practically guaranteed folks they’d reach their destination, and Sarah didn’t strike him as the type to wander about aimlessly. By the time Matt’s brother, Elliott, and their three friends chose their mounts, Ty couldn’t ignore the facts.

  Sarah and Jimmy were no-shows.

  At that thought, the hollow spot below Ty’s ribs began to ache. Should have eaten lunch, he told himself, refusing to believe the missing social worker had anything to do with it. Preparing to have everyone mount up and hit the trail, he shot a last look down the road. This time, a plume of dust rose from behind a small, serviceable sedan. Despite himself, Ty felt a bead of sweat trickle down his neck.

  The car pulled to a halt across the yard in front of the ranch house, where the other guests had parked. Sarah emerged from the vehicle first. As she had the last time they’d met, she wore what Ty called her working uniform—a loose skirt and blousy jacket. He frowned at the clothes, wondering why she hadn’t taken the time to change. His expression tightened when one of the businessmen—John Padgett, he thought—gave a low, appreciative whistle.

  Ty shot the guy a look. “Keep it clean,” he warned.

  A lopsided grin was his reward. “Not to worry, boss,” John answered as Sarah retrieved two tote bags and an armload of clothes from the trunk. “The kid’s a deal breaker.”

  Ty swung back to the car where Jimmy had clambered out and stood holding Sarah’s hand. The little tyke was practically jumping up and down, pointing to the horses in the corral, the covered wagons, the stacks of duffel and gear bags waiting to be loaded.

  The kid’s joy was so infectious Ty felt a grin tug at the corners of his mouth. Sternly, he ordered himself not to let his guard down, not to get too close. The boy wasn’t his. He couldn’t be. Just because Jimmy had blond hair and brown eyes like his own, it didn’t mean they were related.

  Hell, his best friend, J.D., had looked like him, too, but no one ever mistook them for brothers. At least, not after they were fully grown. Their height alone had set them apart. Ty hadn’t stopped growing till he hit six foot three where J.D. had barely grazed the six-foot marker when he wore cowboy boots. Ty’s throat tightened at the memory of his friend. He wrenched his thoughts away from the flag-draped footlocker stored in his attic.

  Striding across the dusty yard, he couldn’t trust his voice and tipped his hat to Sarah in tight-lipped silence. A quick ruffle of Jimmy’s hair helped him get his bearings, and he bent low to ask, “Believe I’m a cowboy now, pardner?”

  “Uh-huh,” the boy answered, his grin spreading until Ty was sure it couldn’t get any wider.

  “I’d about decided you weren’t going to make it.” He turned to face the woman who’d shown up more than an hour late.

  “Sorry. I had to deal with a crisis before I left the office. Then, getting the signed authorization for this trip took a little longer than I expected.”

  He aimed a pointed glance at the jeans and shirt draped across her thin arm. “You can head on up to the house. Bathroom’s down the hall on the left.”

  From the frown that crossed Sarah’s face, he knew she was weighing the pros and cons of taking the boy with her.

  “He’ll be okay with me for a bit.” Honing in on the child, he said, “I was just heading into the barn to check out a new foal. That’s a baby horse,” he added for Jimmy’s sake. “Help me with these bags and you can come with me while Ms. Sarah changes clothes.”

  He grabbed the closest duffel bag. The thing weighed forty pounds if it weighed an ounce, and he groaned. “What do you have in here, rocks?”

  Sarah’s shoulders straightened. Her voice dropped from guarded to prim disapproval. “Your list was quite extensive. Those items, plus my laptop, cell phone, the chargers—I can’t help it if it’s too heavy for you. You want me to carry it?”

  Ty’s sideways glance caught the dare flashing in Sarah’s hazel eyes. He tore his gaze away from hers. The woman had a handle on bossy, but she obviously hadn’t been paying attention when he explained the logistics back in her office. Generations of Parkers had ridden in the summer roundup. Over the years, sure, they’d added a few amenities. But the rustic bunkhouses dotting the trail provided little more than shelter from the sun and the rain.

  When he’d developed a plan to open the cattle drive to tourists, he’d considered outfitting the cabins with electricity. Eventually, he’d decided against it. His bottom line had something to do with that choice, but more important, he wanted to preserve the old ways, give his guests a taste of Old Florida. Which meant cooking over an open fire, lighting their way with lanterns, turning in shortly after the sun set and rising early. No air-conditioning, televisions or laptops. He thought he’d made all that clear. From the way Sarah stood, hand on one hip, maybe he needed to explain it again. He dropped her bag in the dirt.

  “Might as well leave all your electronics here. There’s no place to charge them till we get to Kissimmee.”

  The challenge in Sarah’s eyes shifted to concern.

  “No electricity?” She nibbled her lower lip the way he’d seen her do in her office. Her eyes darted from the bag to the car and back. “The battery’s good for eight hours. I brought a spare. If I’m careful and only check in with the home office once or twice a day, they should last.”

  Ty tilted his head to one side and let his eyes narrow. “Check in?”

  “Yeah, email.”

  He suppressed a grin. “Unless someone planted a Wi-Fi connection in the middle of a palmetto bush, that’s not gonna work.”

  Sara sighed. “Okay. I can call if I have to.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. She really didn’t get it, did she. “By tonight, we’ll be pretty far beyond range of the closest cell phone tower.” He fought the urge to run his thumb along her lip as she bit down hard enough to turn the pink flesh white.

  “Okay, then.” The look on her face shifted to one of understanding, if not acceptance. “While I’m inside, I’ll let the home office know I’ll be out of touch for
a while.” She motioned to the heavy duffel bag. “I still have to bring my laptop. I need it to write reports.”

  About me, no doubt. Ty tossed Sarah’s bag into the back of the luggage cart. He shrugged aside the tiniest flicker of anxiety. Sarah could write all the reports she wanted; they wouldn’t change the fact that Jimmy wasn’t his. He reached for his most disarming smile.

  “Sure, go on up. Doris is probably in the kitchen. But first, if you don’t mind, let’s get everyone introduced proper-like so we can head out soon as you’re ready.”

  He quickly went around, introducing Jimmy and Sarah to the five pals from Chicago, followed by Tom and Hope Garrison, their daughter Kelly. While the ranch hands helped everyone else saddle their horses, Ty held his hand out to Jimmy.

  “Ready to see that pretty little colt and his mama now?” he asked. After getting an encouraging look from Sarah, the child slipped his small hand into Ty’s larger one.

  For a beat or two, Ty wondered what it’d be like if Jimmy depended on him all the time. He shook his head. It’d be one thing if his blood ran in the kid’s veins, but it didn’t. Sooner or later, everyone would figure that out. Then Sarah would find the boy’s real father, a man who’d give the kid a home. Till then, he might have a moral obligation to make sure the child was taken care of, but getting close to a kid who’d never be his didn’t make much sense.

  That didn’t keep him from grinning at the boy’s efforts to match his stride as they crossed the bustling yard. Ty kept a watchful eye out, steering them well clear of dangerous hooves. He held tight to Jimmy’s hand until they reached the nearly deserted barn. In its cool interior, he relinquished his grip and let the boy run on ahead. Drawn by soft nickers from a stall two doors down, the child rushed to the door and peered through the gaps between the wooden slats.

  “Oh, cool,” he whispered.

  Ty leaned against the top of the Dutch door, his own smile widening. Used to human company, the mare barely paid them any attention. The colt was another matter. On impossibly thin legs, the young horse moseyed over to investigate the visitors. When he nosed the gap where Jimmy stood, the boy giggled.

  “I think it likes me,” he exclaimed.

  “I’m sure he does,” Ty nodded. The colt came from good stock. “The mom is called a mare. Her name is Ocita.”

  The name meant powerful, a good name for one whose bloodlines traced back to the first horses in the New World. Ty looked down at the kid, whose attention was solidly focused on the colt, and decided to skip the history lesson.

  “The baby is Niceta. His name means victorious. He’s only two days old.” He pointed to the white streak that ran down the center of the colt’s dark face. “Pretty, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah,” Jimmy whispered. He stared through the slats in openmouthed admiration while Niceta blew air and snorted.

  Backing up a step, the little boy laughed nervously.

  “That’s just his way of getting to know you,” Ty explained. He reached down to scratch the colt’s forelock. “He’s a sweet thing and won’t hurt you. Want to pet him?”

  Jimmy stared at him, his eyes as round as half dollars. “Can I?”

  “Sure.” The boy’s awe awakened memories of the first time Ty had ever seen a young horse. A warm spot opened in his chest. “Bet he’d like it if you rubbed his head. Here, let me hold you up so you can reach him.” He hefted the child, surprised at how thin and light the kid felt in his arms.

  Jimmy planted a few tentative pats on the young horse’s head before he swiveled a look to see if Ty approved. But there wasn’t a wrong way to get acquainted, and Ty thought it best to let the two youngsters figure it out on their own. Evidently, his method worked because Jimmy was quickly engrossed with the task while Niceta leaned so close to the door he was practically pushing against the slats in an effort to get nearer.

  “I think you’ve made a friend there.” The poke in the ribs he gave the kid earned a giggle. Ty swallowed and set the child on the ground. Guarding his heart against a boy who took such honest joy in the simple act of petting a horse was going to be tougher than he’d thought.

  “Ty? Hey, Ty.” The ranch foreman’s voice echoed through the nearly empty stable.

  “Yeah, Seth?” Ty leaned out into the aisle where he could be seen.

  “I need ya to take a look at this cinch. Not sure, but I think we’ll have to replace the saddle on Sad Sack.” Seth stood in the center of the big barn door holding the reins of the horse Ty had assigned to Kelly Garrison.

  “Be right there,” Ty called. He looked down at the kid, who was still engrossed in petting the foal.

  The little boy glanced up at him. “Can I stay here? Please?”

  Ty swung a look at Seth who stood not fifty feet away. The kid wouldn’t be out of his sight for more than a second or two. “No climbing on the stalls. And you won’t wander off?”

  Pale yellow hair bobbed up and down. “Sure, Mr. Ty. I just want to watch him a little more.”

  Ty tipped his hat back so he could look Jimmy straight in the face. “Okay, then. You stay right here and don’t move. I won’t be long.”

  Just to be sure, he quickly checked the surrounding area for dangerous tools. The stable was neat and orderly, just the way he liked it. Ocita and her colt were the only horses still in the barn and they were safely locked in their stall. As long as the kid did what he’d been told, he’d be fine.

  “On my way, Seth,” he called, feeling confident that he and the child had reached an understanding.

  * * *

  DISMISSED. TY PARKER had summarily dismissed her, turning his full attention to Jimmy. Sarah tried telling herself she was glad about that. Wasn’t it exactly what she’d wanted, for the man to acknowledge his son and assume responsibility for him?

  Angry at herself for nearly giving in to a jealous twinge—and at Ty for being, well, Ty—she tried stomping into the ranch house, a move that would have gone much smoother if she’d been wearing flats or boots instead of shoes with three-inch heels. Heels that sank into the dust and dirt, miring her so deep into the gray sand it was a miracle she made it to the steps upright and with her dignity intact.

  Her emotional balance was another matter. She’d been slowly losing that since the day Ty and his fraternity brothers had walked into the DCF office to propose their Big Brother program. The man defined “easy on the eyes.” His desire to help foster kids, along with boyish charm and a great smile, had pushed all of her buttons. But they’d never seen each other without two or three of his fraternity brothers in the room. After the experiment had failed, she’d been too angry with him to feel even the slightest spark of attraction. Now that they were on his ranch, where it was her job to help him learn to be a parent, she wasn’t sure how long she could maintain the air of a stern social worker who did everything by the rules. The tall, handsome rancher’s laugh stirred an odd sensation in her chest. She’d had to fight to keep from smiling at him.

  Which wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all.

  Gaining the stairs, she stomped up the wooden planks. Her heels sounded a staccato beat across the wide-railed porch. The screened door gave a satisfyingly loud squeak when she tugged on the handle, and she stepped into the darkened interior of the house, letting the door slap shut behind her.

  Safely out of Ty’s sight, Sarah slowed, stopping long enough to regain her composure and get her bearings. Her frown deepened. When she’d pictured the bachelor’s ranch house, an attractiv
e great room hadn’t been part of it. And especially not such a smartly designed tile entry that led to cedar floors burnished to a coppery-red. Their satiny finish silently urged her to slip out of her shoes and glide across the wood in stockinged feet. Her gaze crept over a cream-colored sofa positioned in front of a towering stone fireplace. A chocolate afghan at one end of the couch all but called out for someone to curl up beneath it with a favorite book…or a favorite rancher.

  Sarah ran a hand through her hair, banishing the image before it had a chance to take root. There’d be no hanky-panky with Ty Parker. The brush of his fingers might ignite nerve endings that had gone far too long without a man’s touch. His very presence might tempt her to throw the rule book out the window. But she was there for a purpose, and one purpose only. To determine if the man who refused to admit he had a child could be a father to the boy who had stolen her heart.

  Down the hall on the left stood a spacious guest bath where she quickly changed out of her workday clothes and into a snug pair of jeans and a tank top. Shoving her feet into a brand-new pair of boots, Sarah ignored the uncomfortable way they pinched her toes while she pushed aside the niggling feeling that she should rush back out to the yard. Much as her heart tugged in that direction, she was there to help Jimmy bond with his father, something that couldn’t happen unless they spent time alone together.

  She turned in the opposite direction. A long hall lined with framed pictures beckoned. She slowed in front of a shot of a cute youngster who, just as she’d suspected, looked exactly like Jimmy. A few steps farther, she lingered over a photo taken in front of the ranch house. The resemblance between Ty and the couple in the picture was so strong she was certain they were his parents. From the background information he’d supplied the DCF last year, she knew Ty had lost his mother in a car accident the summer before he started high school. Cancer had taken his dad a few years later.