The Rancher's Family Secret

by Myra Johnson

  “My business is more important. Whatever jobs he has for you can wait.” His grandfather brushed past him into the small room he used for his private office and slammed the door.

  Weird. But then, Tito was known for barking orders without giving reasons.

  After washing his hands and changing into a clean shirt, he ambled to the kitchen, where his mother had sandwich fixings on the table. He gave her a quick hug. “Any idea what’s going on with Tito? He just ordered me to take him to town.”

  “Who knows? He’s been in his office most of the morning, and the couple of times he did show his face, he was crankier than a cornered coyote.”

  A few minutes later, his dad came in for lunch, but Tito didn’t join them. If Dad knew what Tito was up to, he kept it to himself. After they finished eating, Spencer helped his mother put things away, then steeled himself to knock on the office door. “Whenever you’re ready to go to town...”

  The door swung open. “I’m ready now.”

  “Sure you don’t want some lunch first?”

  His grandfather harrumphed. Hat and jacket in hand, he strode through the kitchen. Spencer hurried to grab his down vest, hat and keys as he raced to catch up.

  Moments later, he steered the truck down the lane. “Where are we headed?”

  His grandfather shot him an annoyed glare. “I told you. Town.”

  “I got that much. Farm and ranch supply? Barbershop? Bonnie’s Bistro?” Those were Tito’s usual hangouts where he met up with his ranching pals.

  Tito’s chin shifted sideways as he stared through the windshield. “The barbershop will do.”

  He didn’t say another word for the rest of the ride.

  Arriving on Central Avenue, Spencer pulled into an empty space in front of Carl’s Clips for Men. “When should I pick you up?”

  “I’ll call you when I’m ready.” Tito clambered out the passenger door. Standing on the sidewalk, he watched as Spencer backed into the street.

  Perfect. When I’m ready could mean twenty minutes, an hour, three hours—no way of knowing. So much for the odd jobs and training rides Spencer had planned for the afternoon. Continuing down Central, he glanced in the rearview mirror to see his grandfather striding in the opposite direction from the barbershop. Yep, the old guy was definitely up to something. Spencer only hoped this didn’t have anything to do with finagling a way to buy the McClement ranch.

  At the farm and ranch supply, he edited Tito’s list to only what was needed. That left two replacement horse blankets, four sets of leg wraps and a bucket of hoof pellets. He also threw in vitamin supplements and specialty feed for Cinnamon and Ash. With no call yet from his grandfather, he headed back downtown for pie and coffee at Bonnie’s Bistro. Almost directly across the street from the barbershop, Bonnie’s would let him keep an eye out for Tito and possibly catch a glimpse of which establishment the old man had actually visited.

  Pulling into the narrow lot alongside the café, Spencer found a parking space among a dozen or so other trucks and SUVs. As he rounded the building toward the entrance, he saw Lindsey leaving the electric co-op office a few doors down. She turned in his direction and smiled as their eyes met.

  “Hi,” she said as he neared. She looked drop-dead gorgeous in skinny jeans, a teal tunic-length sweater, and a multicolored scarf tied in a fancy knot. “Thought you’d be busy with horses this afternoon.”

  “Should have been, but my grandfather wanted a ride to town for...something.” He peered across the street. No sign of Tito yet.

  Lindsey must have caught his look. Smirking, she shot one brow skyward. “Afraid he’ll catch you fraternizing with a McClement in public?”

  Heat flared in Spencer’s chest. “He can think whatever he wants.”

  “I’m teasing you, Spencer.” She rolled her eyes, then muttered, “I think so, anyway. As fast as you took off this morning, maybe you were worried your grandfather had spies in the woods.”

  “Yeah, that was rude of me. I’ve...had a lot on my mind.”

  Her sad-eyed smile said she understood. “Well, as of five minutes ago, I have one less thing on my mind.” She nodded toward the building behind her. “I just paid Audra’s overdue electric bill. We can keep the lights on for one more month.”

  “That’s good news worth celebrating.” Spencer fingered a ball of lint in his vest pocket. “I was about to have a slice of Bonnie’s award-winning pecan pie while I wait for Tito. Join me? My treat, of course.”

  Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, she looked as if she was about to say no. Then a tentative grin began to spread. “Your treat, huh? Thanks. I haven’t had pie at Bonnie’s Bistro in forever.”

  Pulse quickening as he held the café door for Lindsey, Spencer hoped Tito wouldn’t finish his business in town too quickly.

  The bistro had open seating for the afternoon, so Spencer looked for an empty table near the front window. He pulled out a chair for Lindsey at a small table for two, then took the seat across from her. A waitress came right over with glasses of water and menus.

  “I think we both want pie and coffee.” Spencer looked to Lindsey for confirmation.

  She nodded. “Pecan pie and decaf for me. And no topping on the pie, please. I like mine plain so I can savor every yummy bite.”

  “Same for me,” Spencer said. He usually liked a scoop of vanilla ice cream with his pie, but Lindsey had a point. Why mess with perfection? Besides, with her sitting across from him, life seemed—for this moment, anyway—about as close to perfection as it could be.

  The waitress returned shortly with their orders. After a sip of decaf, Lindsey asked, “Noticed any more website traffic?”

  “A couple more donations came in today. And thanks to Audra’s enthusiasm in her first blog post, a local teenager’s interested in volunteering on Saturday mornings.” Smiling to himself, Spencer forked off a gooey bite of pie. “I think he may need some community service hours.”

  “Would that be a bad thing? I mean, can you think of a better way to heal a troubled teen’s heart than spending time with horses?”

  The faraway look in her eyes suggested her thoughts had drifted to the difficult years after her father left. Spencer’s family might have their issues, but he’d always be thankful he’d grown up with two loving parents committed to working through whatever differences arose. If only he could hope for a marriage like theirs someday. If only it could be with Lindsey...

  Had he missed the opportunity to be more than a friend to her? More than the computer-illiterate horse lover whose grandfather couldn’t leave old grudges in the past?

  Shoving such notions aside, he focused on the sugary bite of pie filling dissolving on his tongue. To think, all this time he could have been enjoying Bonnie’s pecan pie for the deliciousness it was.

  Lindsey tapped his knuckle with the side of her fork. “Usually when you invite someone for pie and coffee, it’s polite to make conversation.”

  He released a self-conscious laugh. “Thought you figured it out ages ago—conversation was never my strong suit.”

  “Oh, I remember.” Lips in a pinch, she gave her head a quick shake. “There were plenty of times I wanted to tape Samuel’s mouth shut so he’d let you get a word in edgewise.”

  He stared at her in surprise.

  “Don’t look at me like I’m nuts. I’ve always sensed there’s plenty going on inside your head. Good stuff worth sharing, if only you’d open up more.” She glanced down abruptly and scooped another forkful of dessert. “Anyway, I’ll shut up now.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t...what?”

  “Stop talking. I mean, don’t stop talking.” Mouth suddenly parched, he gulped his coffee.

  A funny smile skewed her lips. “Not sure who’s more nervous and confused here—you or me.”

  “I win the nervous award hands down.”


  “So that leaves me taking the prize for confused. Are we—that is, is there something—” A swallow tracked up and down her throat. “Because I used to hope—”

  Before she could complete the thought, her cell phone sounded from inside her purse. She squeezed her eyes shut briefly before taking out the phone. Reading the display, she grimaced.

  “Problem?” Spencer asked, really wishing she hadn’t been interrupted.

  The phone kept ringing, an annoying ascending tone that sounded like a robotic marimba. “It’s my dad.”

  Chapter Seven

  Frozen with indecision, Lindsey stared at the phone ringing in her hand. Why else could her father be calling except to pile on more pressure about selling?

  “You don’t have to talk to him,” Spencer said softly.

  “I kind of do, since legally, he’s half owner of the ranch.” Shoulders drooping, Lindsey slid back her chair. “This is bound to turn ugly. I’ll take it outside.”

  She answered the call on her way out of the café. “This isn’t the best time, Dad. What do you want?”

  “A little politeness wouldn’t hurt.”

  “We’re way beyond politeness between us. Have been ever since you turned your back on Mom and me.”

  Her father huffed. “You’re not being fair, Lindsey. There are things...things you don’t know.”

  “Feel free to enlighten me.” Spotting a wrought iron bench between the café and the electric co-op, she walked over and plopped down. “Seriously, go ahead. I can’t wait to hear what kind of fairy-tale explanations you’ve dreamed up. And don’t you dare try to blame Mom for your mistakes.”

  The static-filled silence made her wonder if they’d been disconnected. “I’m not getting into this with you right now,” her father stated, ice in his tone. “Since you’re all about getting to the point, I’ll make this brief. I just got off the phone with Audra’s attorney. He said the corporation interested in buying the ranch upped their offer today. I want you to help me convince Audra to accept.”

  Lindsey’s mouth fell open. Boiling outrage propelled her to her feet. “You have some nerve—” At the stares from passersby, she turned away and lowered her voice. “Why should you have any say in what we do with the ranch when you’ve expressed absolutely zero interest in it until now?”

  “Let me make something clear, Linds. You are the one who ultimately has no say in this. The ranch belongs equally to Audra and me.”

  “Equally—right. Which means you both have to agree. And since I’m here and you’re not, I wonder who’s going to have the most influence on your sister.”

  “I have alternatives.” Her father’s voice took on a disquieting edge. “I don’t think either you or Audra want me using them.”

  “Is that a threat? Because it’s not working, and I don’t believe you, anyway.” From the corner of her eye, Lindsey glimpsed Spencer coming her way. A worried look creased his brow.

  “Don’t try me, Lindsey,” her father said. “Please...” Tiredness crept in, replacing the chill in his tone. “Try to be reasonable about this. If you’ll put sentimentality aside and look at it rationally, you’ll see that selling is the only thing that makes sense.”

  The line went dead.

  Spencer moved closer. “You okay?”

  “No, I’m not.” Lindsey held the phone away from her body as if it were dripping with poison. “He said I’m being sentimental and irrational. He says he has alternatives. Which I’m sure means some kind of legal fight.”

  “I’m sorry, Linds.” Gently taking her elbow, Spencer nudged her back to the bench and sat down beside her. “Is there any chance he can change Audra’s mind about selling?”

  “Most days I’d say no. But if he catches her in a weak moment when she’s been dwelling on how bleak things look...” Unshed tears swelled Lindsey’s throat. Leaning forward, she shoved stiff fingers through the curls at her temple. “I can’t lose our family’s ranch. I just can’t.”

  “It’ll be okay.” His tone firm with conviction, Spencer drew a sheltering arm around her. “Somehow, it’ll be okay.”

  Warmed by his tender protectiveness, she lifted her head to offer a weak smile. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I know you. And because...” His voice trailed off as his gaze drifted toward the other side of the street.

  Straightening, Lindsey glimpsed Arturo Navarro ambling down the sidewalk opposite them. He paused in front of the barbershop, and when he looked their way, a scowl darkened his expression.

  Lindsey cast Spencer a mocking frown. “Busted.”

  When he squared his shoulders and purposefully locked his fingers with hers, she could have keeled over from shock. He shifted slightly to face her. “I need to go. But first, I want you to promise me you won’t give up.” His grip on her hand tightened. “No matter what.”

  Before she could find her voice to ask why he cared so much about saving the ranch of his grandfather’s worst enemy, he was halfway across the street.

  * * *

  At home later—Lindsey wasn’t sure when she’d started thinking of the ranch as home, but there it was—she couldn’t bring herself to mention her father’s phone call. Audra had probably gotten the same update from the attorney, and when she didn’t seem inclined to broach the subject, Lindsey chose to see it as a positive sign that her aunt hadn’t given up yet either.

  Besides, they had plenty to do that weekend with housecleaning and getting another guest room ready for Lindsey’s mom and stepdad, who were expected Sunday afternoon.

  On Saturday morning, Audra stifled a sneeze as she shook out the heirloom Celtic cross quilt covering the guest bed. “Your great-grandmother made this with scraps of fabric she brought from Ireland. It’s one of my favorites.”

  “It’s beautiful.” Laying a set of sheets on the mattress, Lindsey admired the quilt’s blue-and-aqua design. “I’d never have the patience to create something so intricate.”

  “Maybe not, but you’ve got all the patience in the world when it comes to sorting out my financial mess. And for that,” Audra said with a warm smile, “I am eternally grateful.”

  With the bed made, Audra went downstairs to start another load of laundry and work on the grocery list. Lindsey finished dusting and vacuuming the room, then made sure there was drawer and closet space for her mother’s and stepdad’s things. Next, she tackled the upstairs bathroom. Seemed like she’d done more physical labor during these three weeks at the ranch than in the entire last year. Which wasn’t a bad thing, but the effort had certainly awakened some long-dormant muscles.

  The rumble of a vehicle outside the bathroom window drew her attention. Peering through the curtain, Lindsey didn’t recognize the blue pickup. Then she saw Spencer leading Cinnamon from her pasture beyond the barn toward a young couple with a boy who looked to be around ten. Deputy Miller pulled in behind the pickup.

  A strange mixture of elation and sorrow squeezed Lindsey’s heart. Visiting with the sweet little horse every day, she’d grown attached to her. But now, with Cinnamon healed from her injuries and looking so much healthier, she’d soon be ready for adoption. Dropping the sponge and bathroom cleaner on the floor, Lindsey rushed downstairs hoping this wouldn’t be her only chance to say goodbye.

  At the foot of the back porch steps, she hesitated. Spencer’s parting words yesterday in town had sounded almost prophetic, as if he knew something she didn’t, and she’d been puzzling over them ever since. But this wasn’t the time to ask, so she strove for a cheery smile as she joined the group.

  “Is this Cinnamon’s new family?” She stroked the horse’s sleek neck.

  Spencer held the lead rope. “Lindsey, meet the Foxes. They’re hoping to adopt Cinnamon for their son, Timothy.”

  “How exciting!” Lindsey locked eyes with the fair-haired boy, her expression turning serious. “Th
at’s a big responsibility. You’ll take good care of her, won’t you?”

  The boy answered with a mile-wide grin. “The best. I’ve read every single horse book in the library.”

  “And that’s no exaggeration,” his father chimed in.

  Deputy Miller came forward to hand Mr. Fox a clipboard and pen. “I need you to fill out a little paperwork, and we’ll set the wheels in motion.”

  So Cinnamon wouldn’t be leaving today after all, a huge relief. Lindsey turned to Spencer. “What happens next?”

  “The Foxes’ barn and pasture setup has to be inspected and approved. In the meantime, I’ll continue working with Cinnamon to make sure she’s a good match for Timothy’s riding skills. If all goes well, they can take her home in early January, and I’ll do a few follow-up visits to make sure everything’s going okay.”

  “Can I visit her sometimes until then?” Timothy asked.

  “Sure,” Spencer replied. “Have your parents give me a call anytime.” Tipping back his hat, he lowered himself to eye level with the boy. “Bring your riding helmet and I might even let you help me with Cinnamon’s training.”

  “Wow, really? Awesome!”

  Lindsey moved aside while the Foxes completed their arrangements with Spencer and Deputy Miller. When everyone else had left, Lindsey waited as Spencer returned Cinnamon to the pasture, then followed him over to Ash’s paddock. Watching him run his hands along the horse’s sides, she said, “He looks better every day.”

  “He’s coming along.” Spencer moved around the horse, carefully examining each hoof. “With the changes to his diet, though, I need to make sure he doesn’t develop laminitis.”

  “You amaze me, you know.”

  Straightening, Spencer cast her a self-conscious smile. “It’s what I do. Nothing amazing about it.”

  With a deny-it-all-you-want shrug, Lindsey opened the gate for Spencer to exit the paddock, then latched it behind him. “Guess you’ll be pretty busy with work and family through the holidays.”

  “Not too busy to pitch in over here. Any thoughts about what you want to tackle next?”