by Casey Hagen
Ivy nestled in Ryan’s lap and, as naturally as if they had been doing this together since Ivy was a toddler, they played. Ivy worked the pick and held her assigned finger placement on the frets. Ivy had gained confidence, her notes smoother, more drawn out. She let the note finish, and didn’t rush them.
Ryan leaned forward and breathed in the scent of Ivy’s freshly washed hair. She smelled of strawberries. Ryan would miss this. She hadn’t ever considered kids. It just didn’t seem like a reality for her, but with Ivy in her lap she could imagine having a houseful of them. Tears burned in Ryan’s eyes. These people didn’t belong to her. She told herself to be careful, to not get attached, but her heart betrayed her by ignoring her head.
***
Slade tossed and turned most of the night. By morning, agitation clung to him like shit on a shovel. His mind flashed to the sight of his daughter playing guitar with Ryan in Ryan’s bed. He hung back in the dark hall, where they couldn’t see him, not that they would have noticed they were so enthralled in what they were doing.
Ryan had given Ivy more attention in the time she had been there than Lisa had given Ivy since they divorced. How the hell Lisa could walk around like the damned Queen when she discarded her daughter like a pair of sole-less shoes when it suited her, Slade would never know. One thing was for sure. It stopped here. It stopped with this visit. Lisa was either invested or she needed to walk away for good.
They were going to have a talk, but unfortunately not today. Today was cattle day. One- hundred head of the finest Texas Longhorn would arrive by lunch time. He had Edmund’s word on it.
Oh, Edmund had tried to back out of the deal. He flat-out accused Slade of causing trouble for Cutter, where there otherwise would have been none.
“You weren’t there, Edmund. Maybe you should take a look at the pictures the sheriff’s department took. Cutter had no intentions of letting her go. Another thirty seconds, maybe a minute, and your nephew would be sitting in jail on murder charges. So, as near as I can tell, you should be thanking me,” Slade had said.
Edmund agreed to follow through with the transaction, but preferred to not have any future transactions. That was fine with Slade. In the future, he would consult with Tony for cattle contacts.
First order of business, he needed to meet with his men and make sure everyone was ready to help with the transfer of the stock. Five trucks would roll in around noon time. Usually transfers went smoothly, but there were always things that could go wrong, and he wanted all hands on deck just in case.
With Lisa planning to take Ivy out, Slade didn’t have to worry about her getting underfoot, or getting hurt in the transfer. Myra, bless her, put together an early lunch, so they all headed out to the pastures with their bellies full and ready to work.
“Let’s get the gates open, so when they get here we’re ready to go,” Levi said. The hands all went into motion, opening the two wide wooden gates into pasture one. As the last one was staked in place, the first truck rolled in.
Edmund Frayley rolled to a stop and stepped out of his truck. Slade decided to treat this just like any other deal, and greeted Frayley with a handshake. The sooner they finished this deal, the happier Slade would be. “Frayley.”
Edmund looked at him with wary eyes. “McCall. Listen, before we get started, just so there are no misunderstandings, no accusations, Cutter is here.”
Slade got right in Frayley’s face, chest to chest. His ranch hands moved in around them, watching, waiting to intervene. “Why the hell would you bring him here?” Slade said with a guttural growl. Thank God Ivy wasn’t around, but where the hell was Ryan?
He turned to the house just in time to spot her and Myra making their way out. “Get back in the house!”
Ryan jumped at his tone. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ll explain later, just get back in the house. Don’t come out until they’re gone,” Slade snapped.
Ryan put her hands on her hips. “Look, I don’t appreciate—”
“Come on, honey. Let’s do as he says,” Myra gave Ryan’s arm a nudge.
“But—”
Myra clasped Ryan’s arm and shook her to get her attention. “Something’s wrong. Just do as he says.”
Ryan gave him a hard glare, but went back inside with Myra. He owed Myra a raise, a bonus, and a paid month-long vacation anywhere she wanted to go. Only, he couldn’t afford to spare her that long.
“Now you, you son of a bitch, your men and my men are going to get this cattle unloaded, quickly. Then you’re going to roll off of my property and never come back. Understood?”
“McCall—”
Slade pointed a finger at him, not giving one damn about anything he had to say. “And, Frayley, if he finds out she’s here and causes trouble, I’ll know it was you and I’ll make it my mission on this earth to cause you a world of trouble of your own. Understand me?”
Frayley seemed to consider his words. Finally, he unclenched his jaw and relented. “You have my word,” Frayley said with a nod.
“Where is he?”
“He’s driving the last rig.”
“Make sure he stays in it.”
The transfer took just over an hour. Each moment that passed, Slade struggled to control his anger. When Cutter rolled up in the fifth truck, Slade let his men help with the transfer while he kept an extra close eye on Cutter, and the house to make sure Ryan stayed put.
Chances were Cutter didn’t have a clear enough view of the porch to see Ryan when she had come out. Of course, Slade had to hope that she stayed put. He’d never spoken to her like that, and the way she glared at him, the hands on her hips, the way her mouth thinned, it all told him that he was going to hear about it the minute he stepped into the house.
Cutter sat there, a mean glare and a twisted smile on his face. Frayley didn’t pay attention. How the hell could he miss the look on his nephew’s face that told anyone who had the misfortune to tangle with him that he was evil to the core?
Ten minutes went by with Cutter sitting there. The minute the rigs rolled around the corner and off his property, Ryan stomped out onto the porch. She had watched, waited. So much for them hashing this out in the house, in private.
“Slade McCall,” Ryan yelled, pointing a finger at him. “Who the hell do you think you are, bossing me around like that?”
“I’m your boss.”
“Yes, you are, but answer me this: you talk to your men like that?”
Well, shit. She had him there. Other than Matt, no, but even then, only when he hauled him out of bars, which, thankfully, he hadn’t had to do since Ryan was attacked. He’d gone out once since then with the guys. They hung at Gentry’s. Maybe he had taken a look at that picture in the morning and realized he had a problem.
Slade laid hand over the one Ryan rested on the railing. “Let’s discuss this inside.”
She wrenched her hand out from under his and yelped. “Damn it!” She peered down at her palm. “How about we talk about it right here? I’ve got nothing to hide. I’m not the one who acted like an ass.”
“True enough, and I’m sorry, but let’s talk about it inside where I can get that sliver out of your hand.”
Ryan’s shoulders slumped. “Damn it, I want to be mad at you and you’re ruining it.”
“You can yell at me again once I get the sliver out. Come on.” He circled around, put his arm around her shoulders, and walked her into the house. She dropped into the closest chair.
“Nope. Sink first. You have to wash your hands first.”
“It’s going to hurt.”
“It doesn’t hurt now?”
“You know, you’re really annoying when you make sense.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She joined him at the sink and washed her hands in hot soapy water, wincing the entire time. Yeah, that shit hurt. He’d had more splinters over the past six months than he had in his whole life. So many that the needle nose tweezers adopted the window sill over the
kitchen sink as their permanent home.
Back in the chair, she turned to him when he took the seat across from her. “This is going to suck, isn’t it?”
Slade laughed. “Yeah, but I’m good at it. It’ll be quick. You ready?”
She held her palm out and closed her eyes. “Just hurry.”
Slade hesitated; the splinter was deep and all of it was just under the skin. He needed to dig in just once, grab the end of the splinter, and take it in one shot.
Ryan peeked at him from one eye. “What are you waiting for?”
“Just planning.”
“Slade, just get the damn thing out so I can be mad at you again.”
Slade laughed, pushed the tip in, and at her shocked gasp he pinched, then pulled, and got it in one shot. Not bad, if he did say so himself.
“Damn it, that hurt. Now about the way you treated—”
Slade hooked a hand around the back of her head and pulled her mouth to his, cutting off her words. She squeaked, but immediately softened under him. A breeze sailed through the windows, picking up the loose strands of Ryan’s red hair and brushing them against his cheek. Dipping his tongue into her mouth, sliding it along hers, he tasted pineapple.
While he had been out there working, she had been in here eating pineapple upside-down cake with Myra. Yeah, she had had it bad while she waited inside for the opportunity to light into him.
Slade pulled back and brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. She had picked up a few freckles in the past week. Ranch life had never looked better than it did on Ryan.
Her eyes drifted open and she smiled. “Why was I mad?”
He kissed one cheek, then the other, and then her chin. “Because I’m an ass, but there’s a good explanation.”
She looped her arms around his neck as he continued to kiss along her jaw.
“Edmund brought Cutter with him. He was driving one of the trucks,” Slade said against her skin.
Ryan pulled back and searched his eyes. “Does he know I’m here?”
Slade shook his head. “I don’t think so. That’s why I wanted you inside. Edmund was upfront about it, not that it makes it okay that Edmund brought him. I don’t know if Cutter will try anything, but I don’t feel the need to offer you up on a silver platter either.”
Ryan cupped his cheek with her uninjured hand. “You were scared.”
Leave it to Ryan to get to the heart of it. “Yeah, I was scared.”
“We should probably talk about this thing we’ve got going on.”
“I agree,” Slade said.
“Yoohoo, we’re back!” Lisa sailed into the kitchen, bringing with her a cloud of obnoxious perfume, bags hanging off of both arms. She pulled off her sunglasses and glanced between Slade and Ryan.
He knew how it looked, with them sitting face to face, her knee nestled between his. Lisa was bound to see it eventually. Ivy might not even notice what meant. After all, Ryan spent a lot of time close with Ivy. It was just her way.
“Daddy, look at my new dress,” Ivy said. She popped out from behind her mother, her hair free of the braids she had always favored. The long blond strands had been straightened, and hung neatly down Ivy’s back. Her red dress stopped just above her knees. Sparkling red shoes adorned her feet.
“Is that makeup?” Slade asked. His daughter’s skin looked flawless. Her rosy cheeks from running around were gone and in their place, he couldn’t quite explain it, but her face had angles it didn’t have before.
“I’m just going to let you guys talk.” Ryan stood. “Ivy, why don’t you show me your new stuff?”
“Okay, but don’t you want to see, Daddy?”
Slade stood and smiled. “Soon, baby. Why don’t you go ahead with Ryan? I need to talk to your mom.”
“Okay, but don’t go anywhere until I get to show you,” Ivy said. She took Ryan’s hand and they headed down the hall toward Ryan’s room.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing to our daughter?” Slade ground out.
Lisa raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Yes, our daughter; last time I checked, I don’t need your permission for anything I choose to do with her.”
“She may have your DNA, but who does the work?”
“You act like I do nothing.”
Slade scoffed. “Next to nothing. It’s easy to be a mother when you breeze through whenever you get the pepper in your ass to do so. You take her to do fun shit, buy her stuff, and breeze right back out to wherever the hell you spend your time. You don’t call, you don’t write, you don’t worry about holidays, you don’t worry about if she’s sick or hurting.”
“And despite that, Ivy is fine.”
God, she was an idiot. He hated how she hurt their daughter over and over. Just picturing Ivy the last time her mother left, his throat thickened with emotion. “Overall, no thanks to you, but she’s not always fine. She’s sad when you go. She asks constantly when she’ll see you again. Her face falls when the holidays pass with not one word from you. You come in here, spoil her rotten, and leave me cleaning up the mess you leave behind.”
Lisa tugged at her cuffs and brushed imaginary lint off her skirt. “What do you want? A thank you?”
“You need to make a decision. You’re either in or out. If you choose out, you’re all the way out.”
Lisa’s angry gaze snapped to his. “She needs her mother.”
“For what? To dress her up like a princess every few years? She doesn’t even look like herself,” Slade growled.
Lisa pulled out a chair and sat, crossing one leg over the other. “She looks like a young lady.”
Slade’s head might explode. Might literally explode. Their daughter was perfect; she didn’t need changing. “There’s nothing wrong with the way she looked before.”
She tapped her nails on the table. “Except she’s a little girl, and today she asked me to make her look like one.”
Did she ask because she really wanted to change, or because she wanted to fit in with her mother? He was so sick and tired of watching Ivy try to be what her mother wanted. What her mother would stay for. “I’m warning you, Lisa, you’d better decide if you’re in or out. I’m done with this barely part-time parenting shit you’re pulling.”
She glanced at him and then away. “So what if I say I want in?”
His hands clenched the back of the chair. “What are you asking?”
“Maybe I made a mistake by walking away.”
Maybe. There was no maybe in this. “You sure as hell did. She needs you.”
“I’m not just talking about walking away from her.”
Slade’s skin burned. The hair on his neck rose. “What are you trying to say?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have walked away from you either.”
7
Slade had to get out of the house before he hurt someone. He wasn’t prone to violence, but Lisa managed to push every button he’d ever had, and, damn, she infuriated him to the point of wanting to break something.
He would never put his hands on her. Men just weren’t to do that. Ever. His father would come back from the grave and have his hide if he even entertained the idea.
To blow of some steam, he headed to the barn. In ten minutes, he would have a saddle on Satan and they would run. On his way to the barn he stopped at the sound of Ryan’s guitar playing. He hesitated as he approached the barn, realizing the notes were coming from inside.
Still filled with temper, but curious, he followed the sound and there she was, sitting on a blanket in the center of the haystack, casting a wary glance at the horse closest to her.
Slade cleared his throat and she glanced up.
Ryan tilted her head. “I’m not sure I’ve seen that look on your face before.”
“I would hope not.”
“You look like you’re ready to raid a small village or something.”
“Raid a small village, get stinking drunk, break something, set something on fire…I guess it’s anyone’s guess.”
> She tilted her head. “Because of your talk with Lisa?”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah. I’ve had enough. Why can’t she just go and stay gone?”
“You would be okay with that?”
“I think I would, yeah.”
“What about Ivy?”
“She would get used to her being gone.”
She nodded. “She would.”
“I sense a “but” there?”
She shrugged. “She’d get used to it, but she’d never stop wondering if she’s the one who drove her mother away.”
He propped his arm against the paddock. “Why would she think that?”
“Because kids blame themselves for these things. I did when my mother left.”
“Your mother walked away?”
“She walked away and my dad wouldn’t let her come back. I spent my whole life wondering what I did. Then she died, and I never had a chance to ask.”
He knew he needed to tread carefully, but he was mad as hell and wasn’t ready to see reason yet. “You saw what Lisa did to her in there. How can that influence be good for her?”
“What are you so afraid of?” She climbed off the blanket and laid her hand right over his heart. “It’s a handful of days that she wants to do little girl things with her mother. It doesn’t erase what you do for her day in, day out.”
She was right. He didn’t want to relent, not on this, but Ryan was making points he had to consider.
She was speaking up for Ivy.
The way no one had spoken up for her.
Slade reached behind her, picked up the guitar, and leaned it against the wall.
“What are you up to?” Ryan asked.
“You ran and jumped in the hay the other day, looked like fun.”
“So you’re going to try it?”
He grinned at her with a gleam in those steely eyes. “I thought you and I might roll around in it instead.”
She put both hands to his chest when he circled his arms around her. “Suppose someone wanders into the barn?”
He dipped his face against her neck. “They won’t.”
She tilted to give him better access to taste her sweet skin. “How can you be so sure?”
