by Elsie Davis
“Sounds good to me. I appreciate you sticking around and agreeing to help take care of them. I’m two hands down while they are away visiting family, so everyone’s already overloaded.”
“No problem.” She moved into the corral and knelt next to the first calf, stroking his silky fur to help him relax. She glanced up at Dylan, her brow furrowed.
“You going to stand here and watch?” she asked.
“I’m supposed to meet Leroy, but, yeah, for now, I’ll watch.”
The sight of her feeding the calf struck a chord in him. Soft, sweet, and motherly, the light in her eyes as she held the bottle to the calf’s mouth was riveting. Being a veterinarian was her calling, but Dylan couldn’t help but wonder how she would look with a baby in her arms. His baby.
If he had a second chance with her, she would always come first.
“You should get going. I can handle this. I promise.”
“Maybe I like watching you better.” He knew she was off-limits, but it didn’t stop his mouth from uttering the words in his heart.
“Dylan, please.” A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“No harm in stating the truth.”
“Never mind. But if you’re going to stand there watching, you’re going to have to talk to me. Tell me how things are going.”
“Okay. I can do that much.” He chuckled. If she wanted him to talk, he’d talk. It was a good opportunity to try and explain a few things to her while she couldn’t run away.
“It’s tough around here. This is the third year in a row we’ve had drought conditions, and it’s been tough for everyone. When I bought the cattle with the insurance money after my dad died, I also had several reservoirs built to combat the effects of a drought. Not much can protect you three years in a row without a major source of natural ground water running through the property. That’s why the cattle are grazing down by the river. It was either that or sell the herd at rock-bottom prices to save the ranch. I guess what I’m trying to explain is things have been rough for everyone, your dad included.”
She glanced up at him, her brow drawn tight. “You still have to move the cattle. I’m planning on having an irrigation system installed as soon as Mr. Thompson can locate a wheelhouse for me. Dad needs the water, and I’m not trying to be mean, but they are his water allocations. You’ll need to transport water in until the drought breaks.”
“Thirty thousand gallons of it? It’s not realistic. Besides, your dad and I have an arrangement, and at this point, it’s between him and me.”
“The farm is my business. It’s my home.”
Music to Dylan’s ears even if the words to the song were a bit garbled.
“It’s your business if you move back home to stay. Otherwise, your home is in Houston,” he said.
“Someone has to look out for my parents.” She moved to the second calf to repeat the process.
“Your folks are pretty sharp. They know exactly what they’re doing.”
The calf seemed to sense Kayla’s mood and turned away, looking for his mother.
“Letting the crop die out? That’s a tough sell,” she said in total disbelief.
“Or maybe you could trust them?”
“Or maybe you could let me figure out what’s best for my own parents?”
“Like you let me figure out what’s best for Derek?” he countered. The shot scored.
“Touché.”
He needed to work, and the poor calf needed to take the bottle. Leaving was best all the way around now. “I’ve gotta go, and that poor calf needs more of your undivided attention,” he said.
Stopping a few feet away, he turned back. “Any chance you want to come for dinner to see Derek and Patches tonight?” And me. But it was better at this point if she didn’t know all his motives. Just because she’d accepted the partnership didn’t mean she couldn’t change her mind.
“I shouldn’t. Things are complicated enough.” Her head was tilted to one side while she gnawed on her lower lip.
“What’s complicated about seeing a boy and his dog? You said Derek needed a woman’s influence in his life. Here’s your chance to make good on your words. Dinner’s at seven, if you dare.” He added the parting shot, knowing it was hard for her to resist a challenge.
It was cheap to use his brother and the dog as a draw card, but somewhere in the middle of the night, Dylan had decided to fight for Kayla.
It was time to cowboy up.
The afternoon dragged out, but finally it was time to fix dinner. Seven fifteen rolled around, and there was still no sign of Kayla. Dylan stirred the spaghetti sauce to keep it from sticking.
He hadn’t said a word to his brother about the dinner invitation because the kid had enough disappointment to last him a lifetime without adding Kayla into the mix. Somehow, she’d been able to wade past the surface with Derek, and the changes in him this past week were nothing short of astounding. While he, on the other hand, never seemed to get it right.
Between school and the dog, he couldn’t decide if he should resent her interference or be grateful, but the slight respite in his dealings with Derek had him leaning toward grateful, at least for the moment. Sooner or later, Dylan would be left to pick up the pieces when she left.
He stepped out on the porch and looked around. Happy shouts from the side of the house told him exactly where his brother and Patches could be found. Dylan rounded the corner to get their attention and pulled up short when he spotted Kayla in the mix.
The spaghetti could wait a few more minutes.
Kayla’s long ponytail swished from side to side as she frolicked with the pair, full of life. Her musical laughter eased the tension from his body.
He could have stood there and watched for hours, but the spaghetti would burn on the bottom if they delayed any longer. “Dinner!”
They both stopped and turned to look his way.
“Sorry I’m a little late, but it sounds like you haven’t eaten yet. Can I still join you?” she asked, walking toward him.
Hell yes. “Sure. It’s spaghetti, and I always make plenty. Put the dog in your bedroom, Derek. I don’t want him jumping on Kayla or begging food at the dinner table.”
“Yes, sir.” Dylan couldn’t believe his ears. Two days in a row, and Derek was still on his best behavior.
Bouncing from subject to subject, the brothers vied for attention from the most attractive guest to ever sit down to the table. The Fearless Five and occasional ranch hand couldn’t compare.
Her laughter was infectious. No small girly giggles from his country girl, and when she started to regale Derek with some of Dylan’s less-than-smart childhood pranks, it didn’t take long before he served her up with a dose of her own medicine and told a few tales on her also.
Several times, he caught Kayla watching him, a strange expression on her face. But then just as quickly, she’d turn away as if embarrassed at being caught. Those were the perfect moments to observe her unguarded. The last time he remembered such an enjoyable dinner had been when his mother was alive. The thought was sobering. The ranch needed a woman’s touch to make it a home.
Dylan needed to tell Kayla how he felt. The rest was up to her.
“Anyone up to a walk?” Dylan suggested.
“I don’t know.” Kayla looked unsure of what to do.
“Please,” Derek chimed in. Kayla had a soft spot for his brother, and it made Dylan a little jealous. Unreasonably so, but still jealous.
“Okay, okay.” She smiled. “But not too late. We can stop at the barn and I’ll check in on the calves again.”
Dylan stopped at the front door to grab his hat and boots. “Son of a gun,” he yelled. The tops of his boots were dark and dampened, and there was a pool of liquid around them on the floor.
“Your dog peed on my boots. I suggest you get something to clean it up before you catch up to us on the walk,” he seethed.
“But they’re your boots,” Derek whined, moving closer to Kayla.
; “And it’s your dog.”
Muttering under his breath, Derek wandered off in the direction of the kitchen.
“Lighten up. It’s not like those boots haven’t stepped in worse,” Kayla teased.
“I won’t have a damn dog peeing in the house. Or on my boots. A man’s boots are sacred.”
“If you weren’t so macho male all the time, maybe he wouldn’t feel the need to mark his territory.” She laughed.
The dog was bad enough, but to have Kayla laughing at him was ten times worse. No, ten times better. It was like old times.
Dylan relaxed. “You’re right.” He chuckled. “Hope the dog’s a quick learner. I’m master of this domain, and he’s pretty low in the pecking order.”
Dylan went to grab his hat from the back of the chair only to discover it missing. “Where the heck’s my hat?”
“Maybe you wore it in the kitchen,” Kayla suggested.
“Hat and boot check at the door. That way they’re always exactly where I need them when I go out again.” The door swung open, and Derek walked in with the cleaning supplies.
“Oh, hell. The damn dog,” Dylan mumbled out loud. This wasn’t going to turn out good. If Patches had been stupid enough to mess with his hat, he’d find himself relegated to the barn. Dylan walked down the hall and glanced in each room, Kayla close on his heels.
“You don’t know for sure.” Her voice didn’t sound confident, and she wasn’t laughing. Everyone knew you never, ever, messed with a cowboy’s hat. It took months and months to break one in, years to make it perfect.
When they reached Derek’s room, the dog sat in the middle of the floor surrounded by tattered pieces of Dylan’s hat, his tail thumping the floor in excitement.
“The dog has got to go,” Dylan bellowed.
Derek came running and halted when he saw the mess Patches had made of the hat. “I’m sorry, Dylan. Please don’t make him go. I’ll pay for a new one. Extra chores, anything, just don’t make him go,” Derek’s voice trembled.
Kayla laid her arm on Dylan’s, her touch silencing him before he could argue. “Dylan, please.” Her soft, silky plea matched the feel of her hands against his skin.
The hat wasn’t important compared to the two sets of pleading eyes trained on him.
“If you’d done what you were told, we wouldn’t be having this problem. Keep the dog in your room when he’s in the house until we can trust him, and I prefer him outside and tied up when you’re not home, at least until we can get him used to the cattle.”
“I’m sorry. I forgot to close the bedroom door.”
“Don’t let it happen again.”
“Thanks, Dylan. You’re the best,” Derek said, his face lit up with a smile once more.
“You won’t be sorry,” Kayla said in a low voice. His skin burned where her hand lay on his arm. He swallowed hard, fighting against the desire threatening to overwhelm him.
Right from the start, it had been written in the stars for them to be together, and damned if he was going to let the woman he loved go without a fight. It had to be her decision to stay, but there was nothing stopping him from trying to sway her decision.
“I hope you’re right. I really hope you’re right.” For everyone’s sake.
…
Crisis averted. It was a good thing she’d gone to dinner, or Patches would have been history by morning. Trouble was, keeping the peace between the brothers would be a full-time job, and she could only stay a few more days. She had to get back before school started.
Playing cards after dinner had been almost, well, natural. For the space of one night, they’d managed to stay clear of cattle, droughts, farms, and ranches, all in exchange for an evening of Crazy Eights. Crazy was a word that didn’t even begin to explain the experience.
Dylan’s warm laughter and easy manner was reminiscent of the man she’d fallen in love with, back when she was naive and immature. But tonight, past hurts faded and an awareness she shouldn’t be feeling had crept to the surface.
Derek, on the other hand, had been the life of the party with his antics, including a competitive streak that kept them playing long after dinner. Two hours longer.
The truck rumbled down the gravel driveway, the headlights bouncing with each rut she hit. The old farmhouse was still lit up, including her father’s study. Fun and games over, it was time to let her dad in on her plans to save the farm.
She made her way down the hall. “Hey there,” she called out from the open doorway. “You got a minute?”
Her dad looked up, a welcoming smile on his face. One that wouldn’t last.
“Sure. Did you have a good time at the ranch?” His question wasn’t surprising since they’d all but shoved her out the door when they discovered she was headed to Dylan’s for dinner.
“Yes. The dog is a handful, but I think I managed to avert a crisis.” She laughed. “The dog’s great for Derek, whether Dylan sees it or not.”
“I’m not so sure you should have done it without asking, but I can’t disagree with your line of thinking about Derek. The boy needed something.”
“What’s done is done. Besides, I would have taken the dog if Dylan said no.” She’d flung the idea at Dylan without thought, but she realized it was true. The little pirate dog had won her over completely with a few wet doggy-tongue baths.
Derek had won her over as well, but she couldn’t very well uproot him and take him to the city. She would miss them both. Not to mention Dylan.
“Dog that active wouldn’t do well in the city, especially with the long hours I expect you work,” her father said. The voice of reason. The same matter-of-fact voice he used when she was a child, but she wasn’t a child anymore.
“I would have figured something out. Patches is a sweetheart.”
“So what’s up? I get the feeling you’re not here to talk about Patches.”
“Promise to hear me out before you start objecting.” Her plan was good, but convincing her dad would be the tricky part. His old-school way of doing things wasn’t working, and he should have installed an irrigation system years ago.
“Depends, but I’m listening.” He sat back in his chair, arms folded over his chest.
“It’s about the farm. I think you can save the crop if we irrigate. I have enough money to buy a wheelhouse, a pump, and to pay for the labor to install it. Old Mr. Thompson is trying to locate a wheelhouse now. When he finds one, I’ll come back and oversee getting it put into place, so it doesn’t add to your workload. I’ve talked to some of the locals in town, but everyone is too busy or flat out tells me no. I was hoping you could rustle up a couple guys, because I keep hitting a brick wall.”
Her father sat there in stony silence, his gaze never wavering as she laid out the plan.
The hard look on his face meant she’d failed.
“I’ve heard everything you have to say, and now it’s my turn. I don’t want a wheelhouse, a pump, or any locals to install anything. I told you I have everything under control.”
“The crop is dying. How is that having everything under control?” she asked in frustration.
“I’ve made arrangements with Dylan, and I’m a man of my word. Leave it alone.” He leaned back in the wooden desk chair, his hands massaging his forehead.
“So unarrange it. You said yourself folks around here are losing their farms and ranches. You don’t want to be one of them because of some gentleman’s agreement you have with Dylan. By the looks of things, he can survive another season. I’m not so sure about the farm.”
Her father’s jaw tightened in anger. Kayla knew she’d crossed an unspoken line, but it had to be done.
“The farm is my business. You chose to go to the city and turn your back on your heritage. I don’t see where what I do with the farm is any of your business, unless you’ve had a change of heart and can tell me right here and now you’re moving home when you finish vet school.”
She’d never heard her father sound so final. Completely void of em
otion. She’d only been trying to help, and for her efforts, she’d gotten knocked down. By her own father.
“Fine. Sorry I tried to help. But whether you like it or not, I’m still a part of the family.”
“Then come home where you belong, Kayla Lynn. It’s not too late.”
“It’s not that easy anymore. Maybe once upon a time,” she said, unsure how the conversation had switched to her so quickly.
“You can change anything you want.”
Seeds of doubt already planted were growing like weeds in her carefully planned life. She had to put an end to the conversation.
“You know about the partnership in the clinic when I graduate. I’ve already accepted.”
“Like I said, nothing you can’t change. You should learn to listen to your heart. You belong here.”
“I am. I’m sorry you don’t approve.” She hated the weak tremble in her voice. Her eyes glassed over with unshed tears. You knew it would be this way all along. It’s why you didn’t want to tell them.
Unfortunately, coming home had brought her face-to-face with the past and her future. And Kayla wasn’t sure where she belonged anymore.
Her father let out a deep sigh. “I understand why you left, but what’s keeping you from coming home?”
Time for a little honesty. “Too many memories and too much history, I guess. And the town’s not big enough for another vet.” She smiled gently.
“How long you gonna keep running from your heart?” he asked.
“Mom told you about Dylan, I take it?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“He’s a good man. Done well by his brother. He’s a man I’d be proud to call my son, and a man worthy of your love.”
Kayla knew better, although after tonight, the memories were clouded with contradiction. It wasn’t fair to pin the pain associated with the miscarriage on Dylan, in all fairness, he hadn’t even known about it. But it didn’t change the rest of the story.
“It was history before it ever got started. Things happened that can’t be undone.”
