Winning Over the Rancher

by Mary Brady

  KayLee tried to smile. There was something in his voice that was more desperate than two lovers who couldn’t get what they wanted.

  She did the only thing she knew he would let her do to soothe him—she brought his mouth to hers and she made long sweet love to him.

  BAYLOR SAT BEHIND THE DESK in the ranch office, in the dark, and he felt like a damned heel. He had not lied to KayLee—exactly—but she hadn’t heard the whole truth, either. They had called from J&J Holdings. They had said they had a problem with scours, and they had asked him to come early—and he had turned them down flat, but gave them help over the phone.

  The second call he had gotten had been from the investigator he had looking for his sister. He’d found a woman he was sure, this time, was Crystal and the woman was in trouble.

  Trouble he could deal with, if Crystal was all right, he could deal with anything.

  The office light flipped on, and Baylor looked up to see Lance in the doorway.

  “That about her?” his brother asked.

  “KayLee?”

  “We’re not all hicks.” His brother leveled a gaze that demanded truth. “Crystal.”

  “She’s in trouble in Denver and I’m going to go bring her back.”

  “Did you plan on telling anyone—ever?”

  “I didn’t know anything for sure until this afternoon and it’s not much.”

  “You know enough if you’re going to run after her. Does KayLee know you’re leaving?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does she know why?”

  “Not all of it.”

  “She doesn’t deserve to know?”

  “What do you know about such things?”

  “I know what I’d tell Holly, and I know what I’d catch hell for not telling her because it was for her own good.”

  “KayLee’s got enough on her mind.”

  “Haven’t you figured out that woman doesn’t need you to save her?”

  Baylor looked at his brother.

  “What she needs if for you to love her,” Lance said in his quiet way.

  This time Baylor dropped his chin to his chest. The more he had found out about KayLee Morgan, the more he found out she was doing one heck of a job taking care of herself and her baby. “I know.”

  “You leaving now?”

  “Yep.”

  Lance walked him to his truck.

  “Driving won’t get you there any faster than a flight in the morning.”

  “I know, but I can’t sit here and wait.”

  “Bring her home, bro.” Lance gave him a handshake and then a brotherly hug.

  KAYLEE SPENT MOST of Friday trying to convince herself it didn’t matter that Baylor was in another state. She had filled the day with the ranch project, contacting the insurance company about Chad’s policy and running through the play again with the teens. When she woke up on Saturday morning, she wasn’t any more inclined to believe it was okay that Baylor was gone.

  She sat on the deck outside her bedroom, soaking in the sun, sipping the coffee she had ground and made in her press pot. Her back hurt most of the time these days and the Braxton Hicks contractions were more noticeable.

  Her phone on the deck table buzzed. The caller ID didn’t have a clue and said “unknown.”

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, what can I say. I’m gorgeous and the man can’t get enough of me. So he’s bribing me with free use of his satellite phone. No way am I telling him I’ve fallen in love with his smile and his hot bod. So, what’s the haps.”

  “Is this Cindy or some crazy person? What time is it there?”

  “Both. You’re minus ten hours in the boonies, eleven if you were still home.”

  “So late evening then and I am home.”

  “You’re in California? No, I get it, St. Albert—”

  “Adelbert.”

  “St. Adelbert is home. Well, it’s almost party time here. Say, are you still preggers?”

  “Yes. Cindy, are you sure you haven’t started partying already?” KayLee shifted to get more comfortable in her chair, closed her eyes and let the breeze blow over her face.

  “I’ve partied a little already. So did you reel in that rancher man yet?”

  “He’s not available.”

  Cindy snorted. “He have a wife somewhere?”

  “He has commitments.”

  “Whoa, honey, I can tell by the longing in your voice are you in l-o-o-ove.”

  “No, but…”

  “Marry him, give your baby a daddy.”

  “That’s ridiculous, especially since he’s gone.”

  “So finish your cabin-building job and follow him.”

  “And start my old life all over again? No, thanks.”

  “Chad was a bully.”

  KayLee opened her eyes and sat up. “What? No, he wasn’t.”

  “Tell me—how many friends do you have left from California?”

  “Um, you.” KayLee rubbed the sore spot in her back muscles and then rested her hand on top of her belly.

  “You did Chad’s stuff, lived Chad’s life.”

  “I did not.”

  “What happened to your business?”

  “I wanted to be on the set more with Chad.”

  “How many of our trips did you cancel?”

  “All of them.” KayLee brushed away the strands of hair the wind had stuck to her lip balm.

  “Why?”

  “Well, the first time Chad had already planned a surprise second honeymoon for us. And the second time because he decided to bump his knee surgery up a month.”

  “That wasn’t knee surgery, was it?”

  “Well, no.” KayLee paused. “I’m an idiot.”

  “You’re not an idiot, KayLee, but you were an innocent when you married him.”

  “I was twenty-six and running my own company.”

  “Almost twenty-six and you had yet to run with the celebrity crowd. You’ve heard of stars in your eyes? You had stars in your brain.”

  “But—”

  “It was subtle, honey. You found ways of convincing yourself and everyone around you that it was all your idea.”

  “Farly Longwood thinks Chad’s death was my fault.”

  “Farly Longwood’s a jerk. And when your husband died, so did Farly’s meal ticket.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” Cindy chuckled, but she sounded definitive.

  Farly Longwood was totally blowing smoke. A weight lifted.

  “Let’s go back to what’s-his-name—Baylor, you said?”

  “Baylor.” Oh, yes. A weight not lifted.

  “Dark hair and eyes. You looking for another Chad?”

  “I’m looking for no one, but he has blond curls and the bluest eyes.”

  “So you’ve been gazing into them, have you? And he’s gone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you in love?”

  “I thought I wasn’t.”

  “Oh, goodie. A wedding. Wait until I get back in the States, please.”

  “Cindy, I told you—he’s gone.”

  “If he hasn’t gone to Mars, then follow him, or use your considerable feminine wiles on him to keep him there.”

  “He doesn’t want me to follow him and my feminine wiles are temporarily distorted.” KayLee took a sip of the dregs in the bottom of her cup.

  “Sorry, sweetie, I’m being paged. Change his mind and have a happy birth if I don’t talk to you again before hand. Ta and ta!”

  “Goodbye,” KayLee said to the dead phone line.

  This valley is the best place for you and your baby, he had said when she practically proposed to him last evening, not come away with me, my love or together we can do anything.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  BAYLOR GLANCED UP AND DOWN the trash-covered street outside the dive he’d been given as the address where his sister lived.

  The crooked and cracked concrete steps led him up to an unlocked front entrance, where inside, the individual apa
rtments mailboxes were ripped open and useless. The stairs creaked wildly as he made his way up past trash and filth.

  On the third floor he found the door with an imprint of the letter C and knocked.

  Silence answered his first and second knockings. The third brought a croaking “Go away.”

  “Crystal, are you in there?”

  More silence.

  He tried the handle. No luck.

  “Crystal, let me in.”

  Nothing.

  “Crystal, I’ve got the stuff you asked for.”

  He heard shuffling inside this time and the door snapped open.

  He stared into the dull-eyed look of his sister and the sharp eye of a gun barrel.

  “What the hell do you want?” She wore dirty sagging gray sweatpants, a torn undershirt and no shoes. Her matted blond hair was clumped on one side of her head.

  “It’s me, Crystal, your brother.”

  She looked more closely at him, lowered the gun and slammed the door in his face.

  Or she tried to slam the door, but it stopped on the toe of his boot and rebounded open, exposing the stooped posture of a broken woman.

  She crouched and aimed the big gun at him again. “Go away. I don’t have any brothers.”

  “Shoot me if I don’t mean anything to you.”

  She snapped the gun down with a heavy sigh and turned away from him. She did recognize him, and to some degree, she still trusted him or she wouldn’t have turned her back.

  In the dim light of the sparsely furnished apartment, she went over to the couch with a faded throw, swept aside food wrappers and sat down on the edge. She placed the gun—a Glock, he decided, one that had seen lots of service, and a big weapon for a woman of his sister’s small stature—on the couch.

  He had taught her to shoot a handgun. He had taught her to stand up to people.

  “What do you want, Baylor?”

  “I want you to come with me.”

  “Still the blunt and honest guy?”

  “You’re my sister and I can help you.”

  “And still trying to save the damsels in distress. Get over yourself. We damsels don’t need you.”

  She didn’t sound strung out when she spoke, yet she thoroughly looked the part.

  “I’m taking you to drug rehab today.”

  “The hell you are.” She got up, leaving her gun on the edge of the couch as if she’d forgotten she had it. “Get out. Go back to the ranch where you belong.”

  “I’m not going back to the ranch. I’ve got a job here in Denver.”

  “I don’t care if you move into the apartment upstairs. I don’t want your help. I don’t need your help.”

  “You need someone’s help.”

  “Don’t move here, Baylor. Things happen here. It won’t be good for you. You belong in Montana.” There was a pleading in her voice that ripped at his heart.

  “I belong here for as long as you need me.”

  She sat down on the couch again and put her hand on the gun. “If I go to the rehab center, will you go back home?”

  “I have a job here.”

  “Damn it, Baylor. Go home.” She glared at him, but had a clarity in her eyes that gave him hope. Maybe Crystal wasn’t as far gone as she looked. She had been brilliant, one of the smartest kids in St. Adelbert.

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  “I need you to leave me.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “If you stay here, you’ll get sucked in with me. I’ve seen it happen to too many people. I can’t let it happen to you.”

  “You’re worried about me?”

  His gut clenched. There was something he didn’t know.

  He sat down in the chair opposite from her. “What happened to you?”

  A dark, wiry man appeared from what must have been the bedroom. “Crystal!”

  Crystal scooped up the Glock without taking her eyes off Baylor and then whirled in a wobbly pivot and fled down the dark hallway. A door slammed.

  He followed her and knocked. “I’ll be back, Crystal.”

  She didn’t answer, so he left her in the filthy apartment, crawled back into his truck and drove away—for now.

  That his sister didn’t want him there didn’t mean he was leaving town.

  He did return the next day and if she was there, she didn’t answer.

  Alone in his motel room, he wanted desperately to call KayLee, to see her, to hold her in his arms. He had fallen in love with her the first time he saw her freezing on the porch at the ranch, before he realized she was pregnant. Every time he saw her, every time he had sex with her, he fell in love some more. He knew it was unfair to her, but he couldn’t help himself.

  On the third day, he went back to his sister’s apartment, and he planned on coming back a fourth and for as many as were needed to talk her into getting help.

  THURSDAY MORNING, the day before the play performance and a week and a half before her due date, KayLee took a long shower to help ease the aching muscles in her back. When the water cooled, she got out of the shower and dressed. Today, she needed to assure herself the construction materials had arrived on schedule.

  Tuesday she had seen Dr. DeVane, who had pronounced her as healthy as she could possibly be for a woman who might be overworking herself and who could deliver any day now.

  After the appointment, she and Abby had attended the last of the birthing classes. Abby had been a superb partner.

  Dr. DeVane would attend the birth and examine the child afterward, and if for some reason Dr. DeVane could not be there, her husband would fill in for her. Abby would be at the clinic and at home with KayLee for the first twenty-four hours and then Cora and Ethel would keep an eye on mother and baby.

  KayLee had no doubt the women who lived downstairs would be attentive and helpful.

  Her mother had said she might be able to come out in a couple of weeks and her father was on yet another honeymoon. Her family might not be much help, but she really did have a village to care for and to help her welcome her baby.

  Just yesterday, the sheriff’s wife and the mailman’s wife stopped by. They had a little green sweater, hat and booties set from their knitting group. “We always have a set on hand because you never know,” Flora Potts had said.

  Baylor’s face played through her mind often. She hoped he was happy. Though her bigger concerns at the moment were the construction project and staying healthy for her baby’s sake.

  When she arrived at the storage facility she had rented in town for the building materials, it was empty and dark. The shipment had been due before eight—it was now after ten o’clock. No materials meant idle workers —unpaid workers who would scatter and might be hard to get back and impossible to replace.

  She headed for the ranch to see how close they were to running out of materials. And she couldn’t help herself if Baylor were there—she wanted to see him for herself. She wanted to look into his eyes and see if going to Denver had lessened his pain or made it worse.

  At the ranch house, Evvy greeted her at the door with a worried expression on her face and let her into the foyer.

  “Is Trey all right?”

  “Oh, my goodness.” She put a hand on KayLee’s shoulder. “The baby’s fine. Seth and Amy took him to the city for a doctor’s appointment. They were making a day of it.”

  “What’s wrong?” Had something happened to Baylor in Denver?

  “You should go talk to Lance. He’s out in the shed, the one where the calves are born. You know which one I’m talking about. He’ll be needing to talk to you, so you should go out there right away.” Words tumbled uncharacteristically out of Evvy’s mouth.

  “Evvy, as long as every one is okay, we can fix whatever’s wrong. I’m sure we can. Is Baylor back?” KayLee was sure she knew the answer to that question. Evvy wouldn’t be sending her to talk to Lance if Baylor were there.

  “He hasn’t come home yet.”

  The hand on KayLee’s shoulder tremble
d.

  “I’ll fix it, Evvy. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it.”

  KayLee hurried at her best rate from the house toward the shed. She could see in the distance the skeletons of the two cabins. What she could not see were any workers. She knew why.

  Please, don’t let them all disappear, she thought.

  Lance was in the only occupied pen with a cow and calf. He seemed intent on trying to get the cow to let her calf nurse, and the cow seemed equally intent on not letting man or little beast near her. “Hi, Lance.”

  She hadn’t realized how much dark-haired Lance looked like his youngest brother, the set of his chin, the shape of his nose and ears.

  “KayLee.” He acknowledged her but went back to what he was doing. First things first. Even a nonrancher like herself knew a calf would be better off if the mother let it suckle the first milk.

  KayLee reached over the wooden pen and touched the tethered cow on the neck. “What’s her name?”

  Lance gave a rough sound that might have been a laugh.

  “You don’t give them names?”

  “We give them numbers.”

  “She looks like a Candy to me. I think I’ll call her Candy. Hi, Candy.”

  He pretended to study the animal. “She looks like a cow to me. I’m going to call her Cow.”

  “Come on, Candy. Let the kid eat. You are the mother after all.”

  Instantly, the calf lunged in and the cow let it take the teat without protest.

  “Thank you, Candy.” She grinned at the taciturn rancher. “It’s a mother-to-mother thing.”

  Lance gave her a long look, shook his head and then came out of the stall and around to where she stood.

  “Evvy’s upset. What’s happening?” she asked as she moved away from the calf-cow pair. She didn’t want to mess anything up that Lance had accomplished.

  “Our cash on hand for the project has run out.”

  “That would be why the building supplies didn’t show up.” KayLee didn’t have to search very hard for what would be the long-term ramifications of the Doyle’s failure to procure funds. All she could come up with was project failure. Well, that sure wasn’t going to happen.

  “Harder to get the supplies back if they’ve already been hammered in place,” Lance said in his economical way. “So they held up the shipment.”