The Rancher's Family Secret

by Myra Johnson

  Behind him, his grandfather gave a loud harrumph. “Then say what you have come to say.”

  Spencer spun around, suddenly unsure whether he could get the words out. Few people could make him feel as inept and inadequate as his grandfather could. “Tito, I—”

  “You have come home to apologize, I assume.” Tito crossed the kitchen and poured himself a mug of coffee. Turning, he graced Spencer with a condescending smile. “Your infatuation with the McClement girl will pass. You only need to accept your role as a Navarro and—”

  “No.”

  Tito’s brows shot up.

  “Son...” Spencer’s father cast him a warning frown, but his eyes clouded with a different emotion. Fear?

  Giving her head a small shake, Mom sidled over to Dad and linked her arm through his. After a sharp exhalation, he clamped his lips together as if accepting the inevitable.

  Spencer let out a tremulous breath in a struggle to keep his voice level. “I love you, Tito. All my life, I’ve wanted nothing more than to make you and Dad proud. Excellence in horsemanship, integrity in business dealings—it’s a legacy I’ve tried my best to honor.”

  Pausing, he drew a hand across his face. God, give me strength. Give me the words.

  He stood a little taller, his gaze locked with his grandfather’s. “It took me a long time to understand how Samuel could leave like he did, and just like you and Dad, I resented him for turning his back on the family business. But he was only trying to protect himself, and now I’ve got to do the same. I can no longer be part of a family who would choose bitterness and greed over compromise and forgiveness.”

  Tito froze, a stricken look replacing the smug smile he’d worn moments ago. The hand holding the coffee mug shook slightly. “You—you would not say such things if you knew—”

  “Don’t try to justify what you’ve done to people I care about. To people you should have loved enough to treat with compassion and respect.” Spencer sliced the air with his hand. “And all because of something so far in the past that nobody remembers what started it.”

  In the split second before Tito’s coffee mug would have hit the floor, Spencer’s dad rushed forward and grabbed it, the hot liquid splashing onto his hand. Wincing, he shot Spencer a distracted frown. “That’s enough. You should go.”

  With everything else he’d meant to say logjamming in his throat, Spencer took a hard look at his grandfather, only then noticing the man’s pallor. Perspiration dotted Tito’s brow. He’d mashed his lips so tightly together that they’d turned white.

  As Dad helped Tito to a chair, Mom reached for the kitchen phone. Hanging up after a frantic call, she said, “An ambulance will take too long. His doctor said to give him an aspirin and drive him straight to the ER in Georgetown.”

  “You will do no such thing,” Tito argued as one hand clutched his chest.

  All other thoughts evaporating, Spencer strode to the door. “I can take him in my truck. It’s right outside.”

  Mom coaxed Tito to chew and swallow the aspirin. “Help your dad walk him out. I’ll grab a pillow and blanket.”

  Minutes later, they’d made Tito as comfortable as possible in the passenger seat. With Georgetown’s St. David’s Hospital at least half an hour away, Spencer wasted no time hitting the road. His parents followed in Mom’s car.

  The medical team quickly confirmed a heart attack, and Spencer collapsed in a waiting room chair. This was his fault. He’d known Tito hadn’t been well, yet he’d unloaded on him anyway. God, why didn’t You stop me?

  Like anyone could have, in his current state of mind. But did Tito’s heart attack change anything? Mom had even mentioned the other day her surprise that something like this hadn’t happened sooner. No, as guilt-ridden as Spencer felt for his part in bringing this on, he wouldn’t accept blame for the spiritual condition of his grandfather’s heart. That, Arturo Navarro had allowed on his own.

  It was well past one o’clock before a doctor came to tell them Tito’s condition had stabilized but that further tests and treatment would be necessary, possibly even bypass surgery. “We’re admitting him to the coronary care unit right now. Expect him to be in the hospital for several days.”

  Spencer’s dad slid both hands down his face. “But he’ll recover?”

  “We’re doing everything we can to ensure a positive outcome.” Doctor-speak for He’s in bad shape, so no promises.

  With a silent prayer of thanks that his grandfather had survived thus far and was in good hands, Spencer backed away, preparing to leave. There was nothing more he could do here.

  His father turned. “Where are you going?”

  “I still need to find another place to live and somewhere to move my rescues.”

  Eyes narrowed to mere slits, his father ground his teeth. “In that case, consider your employment with Navarro Quarter Horses officially terminated. Your last paycheck is waiting for you in the barn office. I would prefer that you pick it up while I am not there.”

  Mom clutched Dad’s arm. “Hank, don’t—”

  “No,” he replied, one hand raised, “if our son is determined to go his own way, then that’s what he must do.” With a dismissive shake of his head, he turned away.

  Staring at his father’s back, Spencer swallowed the nausea rising in his throat. He’d prayed for at least a scrap of understanding, from his own father if not from Tito. He’d expected bruised feelings, even anger over his decision. But his grandfather nearly dying, his father essentially disowning him—that hadn’t been part of the plan. He’d never felt so utterly forsaken.

  As he trudged out to his truck, it dawned on him—with Lindsey’s parents divorced and her father out of her life, she could understand better than anyone else how badly he was hurting. He needed her, now more than ever.

  Was it too late to fix things between them?

  * * *

  Lindsey had been in the kitchen with Audra when she glanced up to see Spencer and his dad helping Arturo to the truck. Spencer had mentioned his grandfather hadn’t been in the best of health lately. The old man had looked feeble and pale. Considering how quickly they’d all driven off, had Arturo’s condition taken a dramatic turn for the worse?

  She’d been tempted to call and ask if there was anything she could do but wasn’t sure Spencer would welcome her intrusion. Audra had no such reservations and had immediately tried to reach Lois. When no one answered, she left a message expressing her concern and offering any assistance the family might need.

  The hours since had dragged by. Lindsey tried to stay busy, but there didn’t seem much point in agonizing over bills they couldn’t pay or making more plans for an event venue that likely would never open. And was Joella serious about her and Holly coming to the ranch, if only for a visit? Joella maybe, but Holly couldn’t exactly cancel any pending catering jobs to pop over to Gabriel Bend to cheer up a friend.

  Shortly after three o’clock, Lindsey’s phone buzzed in her pocket. Hoping against hope it might be Spencer, she nearly dropped the phone before she could read the display.

  Not Spencer. Holly. Lindsey answered with a weak hello.

  “Wow, don’t sound so excited to hear from me.”

  “Sorry, I thought it might be—” Her voice cracked.

  “Spencer?” Holly sighed. “Joella told me things aren’t going great for you right now.”

  “It gets worse.” Lindsey confided her worries about Spencer’s grandfather. “Much as I despise the way he’s treated us, I certainly don’t wish him ill.”

  “Of course not. I’ll add my prayers to yours.” After a slight pause, Holly continued, “I’m also praying this folderol with the court order blows over...because ever since we talked last, I’ve also been talking to Joella and thinking a lot.”

  From the living room window, Lindsey peered out at the gloomy afternoon. An icy rain had begun to fall. Ju
st what they needed—slick roads and the possibility of a power failure. “I know I was trying to talk you both into coming and working with me here, but now...”

  “Joella told me how close you are to giving up. But don’t. Please.” Holly’s voice took on a desperate tone. “Things aren’t going so well for me right now either. A new catering franchise opened up in town last fall, and they’re slowly eating up—pardon the pun—the homegrown businesses like mine.”

  “Oh, Holly...”

  “But I believe in you, Lindsey. Even more, I believe in what the three of us—you, me, Joella—could accomplish together. You said it yourself. By combining our talents, we have everything we need to develop a successful event venue.”

  Lindsey’s throat tightened. “Not if the court order sticks.”

  Holly grew quiet for a moment. “I hate to even say this, but if Mr. Navarro’s so sick...”

  “Don’t go there. This is Spencer’s grandfather we’re talking about.” She’d barely spoken the words when she glimpsed Spencer’s truck passing by. Her heart twisted as she watched him turn into his family’s driveway.

  “I get it,” Holly said, apology in her tone. “I can only imagine how preoccupied you must be. I shouldn’t have added more pressure.”

  “It’s okay. And I’ll always be grateful for your vote of confidence. If anything does change, you’ll be the first to know. But...don’t count on it.”

  Holly expressed her understanding and promised to keep praying for everyone’s best.

  As Lindsey ended the call, Audra came in from the kitchen. Tugging on her parka and gloves, she said, “The rain’s turning to sleet. I’m going to move the cows to the near pasture for the night and put out more hay.”

  “I can help.” Lindsey followed her aunt back through the house and grabbed her jacket and gloves.

  Starting for the barn, Audra motioned Lindsey toward the equipment shed. “We can get this done a lot faster if I saddle up and bring in the cows while you load a couple of hay bales into the Mule and drive it over.”

  “Will do. Be careful out there!”

  At Audra’s brisk nod, Lindsey jogged over and started up the Mule. With sleet peppering the roof, she backed up to the shed where they stored hay and shavings, then climbed out and shoved open the heavy sliding door.

  Her heart plummeted. When had they used up the last of their hay?

  Clambering into the driver’s seat again, she steered the vehicle across the yard and halted in front of the main barn. She jumped out and raced inside, where her aunt finished knotting the cinch on Skeeter’s saddle. “We have a problem. The hay shed’s empty.”

  Audra looked up, panic etching her face. “Oh, no. I saw we were running low last week, but I didn’t realize—” She pressed a fist to her lips. “I’ve run up such a huge bill with our supplier that I kept putting off calling him again.”

  Lindsey had seen the past-due invoices. Another had arrived in yesterday’s mail, and only this morning she’d remitted a small check in hopes the supplier wouldn’t cut off their account completely. One hand on her hip, the other at her forehead, she racked her brain. Outside, the sleet came down even harder. The animals needed hay, but only a partial bale remained in the feed room. Somehow, she had to come up with a way to get more—and quickly.

  “Bring in the cattle,” she told her aunt. “I’ll figure out...something.”

  Giving her head a doubtful shake, Audra swung up into the saddle, then nudged Skeeter’s sides and rode out.

  As Lindsey watched her aunt disappear into the wintry precipitation, she could think of only one possibility—they’d have to borrow from the Navarros. Despite everything, surely Spencer wouldn’t turn them down.

  * * *

  Hunched over in the chair, forehead resting on the barn office desk, Spencer held his sides against unbearable heartache. He’d sat there for the better part of an hour, debating whether to take the money he’d rightfully earned, or leave it in the drawer as testament to his ultimate break with his family. Leaving them at the hospital had been the most painful goodbye of his life.

  The vibration of his cell phone propelled him upright. With a sigh, he checked the display—Samuel. He pressed the answer button. “Guess you heard.”

  “Mom called a little bit ago,” his twin said. “But frankly, she sounded more worried about you than she did about Tito. Still staying at the inn? I can be there in a few hours.”

  “No, don’t. The weather’s turning bad here. You shouldn’t be on the roads.” Spencer massaged his aching eyes. “Nothing you could do anyway.”

  “I don’t like the way you sound, Spiny. You shouldn’t be facing this by yourself.”

  Spencer couldn’t hold back a sardonic laugh.

  “I’m serious,” Samuel stated, his voice rising. “Call Lindsey. Work things out.”

  “Not happening. I told you, it’s too late.”

  The words had barely left his lips when a motion outside caught his eye. It couldn’t be—Lindsey?

  Whatever Samuel said in response, Spencer didn’t hear. “I have to go.” He clicked off and tossed his phone onto the desk.

  Lindsey must have noticed the light on in the office. She’d parked the Mule outside the barn, then rushed inside, almost crashing into him as he exited the office. It would have felt so natural to reach up and brush the ice particles from her tangled curls. Instead, he fisted his hands at his sides.

  “Spencer, I, um...” She backed up, her teeth chattering. “We’re out of hay. I wouldn’t ask, but the cows need it to make it through the freeze, and I was hoping—”

  “As much as you need, it’s yours.” He gestured toward the office. “Go in and get warm. I was going to bring over a couple more bales for my rescues anyway, so I’ll load up the back of my truck.”

  “Wait—you don’t have a coat.”

  He hadn’t even noticed. While he stood there feeling like an idiot, Lindsey darted into the room. She came out with the sherpa-lined denim jacket he’d been wearing earlier, along with his black felt Stetson. By the time he’d jammed his arms into the jacket sleeves, the cold had begun to penetrate.

  She handed him his hat, then jogged toward his truck. Over her shoulder, she called, “We’ll get done faster if we work together.”

  He should have learned long ago not to argue with Lindsey McClement.

  With Lindsey in the passenger seat, he drove the truck down the lane to the open-sided hay barn. Working in tandem, they loaded ten bales into the bed. Lindsey promised to either replace the bales they used once they could order more or reimburse him for the cost.

  Back in the truck, Lindsey reached across suddenly to clutch Spencer’s forearm. “I feel awful for not asking right away—did something happen with your grandfather this morning? Is he all right?”

  “It’s his heart. He may need a bypass.” As Spencer pulled onto the road, the truck skidded on the icy pavement. He eased off the accelerator until the tires found traction as Lindsey white-knuckled the armrest.

  She relaxed slightly when they turned up her gravel driveway. “A bypass sounds serious. I’m so sorry, Spencer.”

  “Thanks.” Not much more he could say.

  Up ahead, he caught sight of Audra riding Skeeter as she herded the last cow through the far gate. He backed up to the barn-side gate so they could open it to the inside and unload hay bales without the cattle getting out.

  Audra rode over, cheeks red from the cold and sleet speckling her stocking cap and parka. “Oh, Spencer, are you a sight for sore eyes!”

  “Glad to help.” Climbing into the truck bed, he hefted a bale and heaved it into the pasture.

  Lindsey and Audra went to work separating and distributing the hay while Spencer started on another one. Once the cows were taken care of, Spencer moved his truck over to Audra’s hay shed and stacked the remaining bales inside. As h
e finished, his cell phone rang.

  It was Dalton, his volunteer. “My mom won’t let me drive in this weather. I’m real sorry, but I can’t make it this afternoon.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I had to come out for something else anyway.” No need to explain further. “I’ll let you know if I need you tomorrow.”

  He’d barely disconnected when his phone rang again. This time it was his mother. “My friend-finder app says you’re at home.” He’d forgotten she could follow him that way. “Honey, I know you’re still angry and upset, and your dad didn’t want me to call, but with the roads icing up, we need to stay in Georgetown tonight, close to the hospital. Just for now, would you handle things there?”

  Ducking out of the wind, he tugged his jacket collar higher around his neck. “Sure, Mom. Tell Dad I’ve got it under control.”

  “I knew we could count on you. I love you, son.”

  He swallowed. “How’s Tito?”

  She waited too long to answer. “I’ve never seen your dad so worried.”

  As they said their goodbyes, he looked up to see Lindsey hurrying over. She frowned as he tucked away his phone. “Is everything okay?”

  “My parents are at the hospital. Dad left me in charge until he can get back.” He moved around her. “I need to feed my rescues, and then I’ll get out of your way.”

  “Let me take care of them for you.” She jogged up beside him. “After you came to our rescue this afternoon, it’s the least I can do.”

  He halted so suddenly that she skidded past and almost tripped. When he steadied her, warmth shot up his arm, even through her coat sleeve and his leather glove. Throat clenching, he dropped his hand but held her gaze. “You don’t owe me anything. Ever.”

  For a long moment, she silently stared at him, a complicated mixture of pain and confusion and concern in her huge brown eyes. She brushed away the ice crystals clinging to her brows and lashes. “Then as your friend, let me help.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” With a brisk nod, he strode back to his truck.