Back in the Rancher's Arms (Trinity River #1)

by Elsie Davis

  Derek’s demeanor changed instantly when she mentioned Dylan, and it wasn’t hard to figure out why. It wouldn’t be good to encourage the kid into thinking her and Dylan would get together and then for her to leave. She would have to be careful.

  On her way to the barn, she tried to rehearse the best way to pitch her idea to Dylan. It was a great idea for his ranch, even if the basis of the plan would benefit her family’s farm.

  Dylan shirtless was a sight she’d never grow tired of seeing. Hard muscles were carved into his back and down his arms, flexing as he worked on the fan, bent over and presenting her with an extremely nice view of his backside to boot. He hadn’t heard her come in, and she chose to remain quiet for a few minutes, unwilling to give up the great view.

  “Like what you see?” He stood and turned to face her.

  “What are you talking about? I just got here.”

  “Liar,” he said, closing the distance between them.

  She took a step back.

  “Are you and I are clear about Becky, my non-existent son, and the past?”

  “Yup.” She swallowed hard.

  “Then let me make the next step between us perfectly clear.” Dylan pulled her close to claim her mouth in a scorching kiss. This was no tentative, will-you-love-me-forever kiss. This was a heated kiss, full of desire. Strong enough to make her weak in the knees and want to beg for more.

  She closed her eyes, relishing every second, drinking in every drop of heaven he rained down on her lips.

  “Am I clear enough yet, or do you need more information?” he asked, his sexy cowboy grin warming her all the way to her toes.

  She had to tell him.

  “No. But there’s something I need to tell you. About the past.”

  Something in her voice must have alerted Dylan, his smile fading in the space of a heartbeat.

  “Is this the thing you’ve hinted at before, but wouldn’t tell me?”

  “Yes,” she said, biting her lower lip.

  A sneeze sounded from the corner of the room. Dylan stepped back, his face tight with tension.

  “Derek. Come on out.” Hobbling along on his crutches, the kid at least had the good grace to look guilty. And he’d gotten an eyeful.

  “Sneaking around and watching people is rude. Maybe if you’re well enough to hobble on that foot out here, you’re well enough to hobble around school, starting Monday.”

  “No, please. I’m sorry. I’d rather stay with Kayla.”

  “My mind’s made up.” Dylan could be firm when he needed to be when it came to Derek, but Kayla knew it was purely done from love.

  “So unfair.” He pouted.

  “Unfair would be if I made you do your chores also.”

  Kayla had remained silent, stunned to discover she’d almost spilled her confession with Derek listening. She took a deep breath. “We can do fun stuff after school, I promise. Your brother’s right. You’re getting along on the foot pretty well, and it’s easier to keep up with schoolwork at school.”

  Derek hobbled off, mumbling under his breath.

  “Thanks for supporting me. It makes it easier.”

  “You’ve done a good job with him,” she said. Now wasn’t the time to talk about the past, but it was time to talk about the future of the ranch and the farm.

  “But?” he asked, uncertainty in his voice.

  “But you can’t be everything all the time.”

  “I’d be lucky to be anything some of the time. The ranch takes up every free minute I have, and the rest is going through the motions of raising Derek. It’s the best I can do.”

  “Which is what I want to discuss with you,” she said. No backing down now.

  “You lost me. I thought we were going to talk about the past.”

  “Right now, I want to talk about something else. I’ve been thinking about the problems on the ranch and farm and trying to figure out a way to make both work.”

  Dylan tensed. “I’m listening.”

  “The answer is for you to go organic. Sell off the herd and buy back fewer grass-fed organically raised heifers. You can run a herd almost a third smaller for the same profit margin. Organic beef sells for a lot higher price. Fewer cattle, less water. I read it in your Cattleman magazine. Your reservoirs could see you through drought years and the river allocation might keep my father in business if he agrees to an irrigation system.”

  “Won’t work. There’s a lot more involved than just selling off old cows and buying new ones. And it won’t help anyone in the short term. Organic beef prices will eventually fall lower as more and more competition jumps in, and then we’re right back where we started. For now, the problem is under control.”

  “You won’t even consider it?” He was shutting her down without any real discussion. Just like her father.

  “I already have. I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, it’s just not one I can seriously consider at this point. Moving the cows to the river was an easy, natural solution, and everyone benefited from the plan.”

  “I should have known you wouldn’t listen. You and Dad are too much alike.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “I’m not sure I meant it as one,” she said, turning to leave.

  “Stop. We’re not done talking.” He hadn’t forgotten, and he wasn’t letting her off the hook.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Spill it, Kayla,” Dylan said, closing the distance between them. “You can’t leave until you tell me what you meant earlier.”

  “You’ll want me gone after I tell you, but you need to understand, I was young.”

  “For God’s sake, spit it out.”

  “I was pregnant when I left here. You did have a son. We had a son,” she corrected.

  His face drained of all color. “What the hell are you talking about?” He stood stock still, tension radiating from every pore of his body.

  “I’m sorry,” she cried, tears spilling from her eyes.

  “Had? What did you do? And why didn’t you tell me?” he thundered.

  “I didn’t do anything. At least not what you’re suggesting. And I did try to tell you, but when I came home, I saw you and Becky together again and I found out she was pregnant. I left again without saying a word.”

  “You had no right to keep the pregnancy from me. What happened?” He had every right to be angry.

  She waited for him to order her to leave and never come back. “I miscarried.”

  Dylan walked away, his fists clenched. When he returned, his steely gaze never left her face. “I’ve heard it can happen early in first pregnancies.”

  “That’s what they say. But I was early in the second trimester. It’s why I know we had a son. They don’t know what went wrong. I’m not even sure I can have more children.” Kayla bit her lip, brushing away her tears with the back of her hand.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I would have moved heaven and earth to be with you, you know that, don’t you?” he asked quietly. Too quietly.

  “I didn’t know anything except you walked away. No one knows. Not even my parents.”

  The tears in his eyes were like a window to his soul. He had every reason to hate her. Without a word, Dylan shook his head, turned and walked away.

  Kayla returned to the house, threw a few of her things into a bag, and grabbed her purse. She would have preferred not to run into Derek on her way out the door, but no such luck.

  “You need anything? I’m going to run over to the farm, and I’ll be back later to check on you,” she asked, trying to avoid eye contact.

  “Is everything okay? You seem kinda weird.” Kid was far too intuitive for his own good.

  “I’m fine,” she lied.

  “Are you and Dylan fighting? Why do you guys always fight?”

  She made the mistake of looking at him. The dejected look on his face twisted her own pain a little sharper.

  “We just rub each other the wrong way. Always have, I guess.” She shrugged.
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  “You didn’t look like you were rubbing each other the wrong way earlier,” he said.

  “Derek!” she scolded. “That’s enough.” She wasn’t up to this level of conversation, especially not with a thirteen-year-old boy who couldn’t possibly understand.

  “I’ll be back later to fix something for dinner unless Dylan has other plans,” she said, attempting to force a smile and end the discussion. She had to get out of there before she broke down and cried in front of him.

  Kayla walked the short distance to her parents’, eager for the privacy of her own room.

  Raised voices drifted down the hallway and caught her attention when she entered the house. Curiosity had her feet moving toward her dad’s office when she recognized Dylan’s deep timber. He had to have come straight here after their discussion, and it sounded like the two men were arguing, which didn’t bode well.

  If Dylan spilled the truth about the pregnancy to her parents, there would be hell to pay. She’d let them down enough, without them finding out her darkest secret.

  She inched closer to eavesdrop.

  The words “farm,” “ranch,” and “contract,” bandied back and forth, and then she heard her own name. But nothing about the baby. She couldn’t have left if she wanted to. Instead, she moved closer, pressing her ear to the crack.

  “You have to tell her. I can’t hold her off any longer. I don’t like misleading her,” Dylan said.

  “No. If she finds out you own the farm, she’ll be madder than a tornado and never forgive me. We agreed to the confidentiality clause, and the reasons for the clause haven’t changed,” her dad said.

  Kayla sucked in a deep breath, covering her mouth to keep from being heard. Rage seethed deep within. It couldn’t be true.

  “But I can’t keep lying to her. What happens to me when she finds out we’ve lied? Have you thought of that?” Dylan persisted.

  “I’m sorry. You may own the farm, Dylan, but she’s my daughter. I’m the one who stands to lose everything if it doesn’t work out.”

  “I disagree.” Dylan answered sharply. “There are some things more important than the land.”

  Dylan owns the farm.

  Kayla heard footsteps coming toward the door. She scurried for cover, not wanting to be discovered and have them know what she’d heard. Not yet, anyway.

  She couldn’t believe it. The farm. The land. The river. Everything. Gone.

  The snake next door must have done some mighty fancy footwork to get her father to agree, especially without telling her. What kind of deal had Dylan struck with her dad to steal what was rightly hers? All the pieces began to fall into place. Her father’s resistance. Comments dropped here and there. Mr. Thompson’s reluctance to help. No one wanting to do the work.

  And to think she was living under his roof and had let him kiss her senseless.

  Poor Derek. She couldn’t give him what he needed, and he would be devastated when she went back to get the rest of her things, but there was no way in hell she was staying with his lousy snake of a brother another night.

  Except staying here wasn’t any better. Her home belonged to Dylan.

  It hasn’t been your home in five years. Had her dad been losing the farm and quit fighting to save it because she’d turned her back on it? Had selling been the only solution, and if so, why was he still living there? It didn’t look like they were on the verge of moving out.

  It hurt that her dad hadn’t bothered to discuss it with her. You made it clear you were never coming back.

  It was her own fault. And she hadn’t planned on coming back, at least not until recently.

  Being home, she’d come to appreciate a peacefulness about the place she hadn’t remembered. It was her home, and she missed it. But enough to come home for good? She’d never know the answer because now, there was no home to come back to.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A knock on her bedroom door the next morning intruded into Kayla’s trip down memory lane as she lay there thinking of the years she’d spent in this house. Her entire childhood. All she wanted was to be left alone, but apparently that wasn’t going to happen.

  “I know you’re in there, Kayla. Answer the door.” She knew from experience her mom wouldn’t go away until she answered.

  Resigned to the intrusion, she opened the door. “What’s up?”

  “Dylan’s here and wants to talk to you.”

  “No. There’s nothing for us to say.” Her mother’s jaw dropped open in shock. Kayla couldn’t blame her for the confusion. She didn’t know the truth.

  “Kayla Lynn, you march down those stairs and be nice. He’s done a lot for our family, and whatever he’s got to say, I think you should hear him out.”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling at a snail’s pace. “Fine.” Only it wasn’t fine. It would never be fine again. There was no way she would ever consider moving home if Dylan owned the property. Stole the property is more like it.

  Kayla followed her mother down the stairs as if she were being led to the guillotine.

  Her dad and Dylan were on the porch talking in voices low enough she couldn’t hear what was being discussed.

  Hands on her hips, she faced Dylan. “I’ve been duly summoned. What is it you want?”

  They might force her to talk to him, but they couldn’t force her to be civil. The promise she’d made to her father had been before she knew the truth.

  “I’m sorry. Can we take a walk and pick up the conversation where we left off last night?”

  “What conversation? The one with me, or the one with my father?”

  Dylan’s jaw clenched. She didn’t miss the quick glance he sent her dad.

  “You heard us discussing the property?”

  “Your property. Tell it like it is. You’re a low-down, conniving jerk who somehow managed to convince my father to sell the family farm. I heard every word. Make no mistake, I plan to find a loophole or something to prove you cheated my father. He would have never sold the property willingly.”

  With each word, she’d stepped closer and closer until only inches separated them and she could use her finger to poke him in the chest to emphasize her point.

  Dylan grabbed her hands and pulled her hard against his body to hold her still. “You’re wrong. You were wrong about me before, and you’re wrong about me now. I love you. Everything I’ve done has been because I love you. But I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.”

  “You love the property,” she said, but the words rang hollow.

  Was it possible he was telling the truth? She wanted to believe him, but how could she? She’d been wrong before. Did she owe it to him to listen? No. Not this time.

  Dylan looked at her father. “Show her the damn contract.”

  “I can’t. We agreed. It could change the outcome,” Lou said.

  “It will change the outcome if you don’t,” Dylan said quietly.

  Her father shrugged. “I suppose.”

  She was missing something in the exchange between the two men.

  “And don’t worry about my brother, Kayla. He’s my responsibility, and I’ve got him covered. Thanks for your help.” He turned to walk away.

  Not again. A sense of déjà vu hit her, her heartbeat an echo of the emptiness she’d felt once before.

  But this time he wasn’t walking away, not without getting a piece of her mind. “That’s it?” Kayla called after him.

  He paused and turned back to face her.

  “What do you want from me?” he asked.

  The resignation in his voice caught her off guard, but it wasn’t enough to stop the words from pouring out. “You tell me you love me, and then walk away. Again? How is this any different than the last time?”

  “Last time, I set you free to find your dreams, hoping they would lead you back to me. This time, I’m setting you free because you’ve found your dreams, and they don’t include me.”

  “Says who?” she asked.

  “S
ays you and your dream of being a small-animal vet in the city. Says you and your accusations about my motives in buying your father’s land. Coming home for Sophia’s wedding hasn’t changed a thing.” Dylan tipped his hat and turned to leave.

  His words gave her pause, but it didn’t change the fact he owned her family home. Something her father would never have allowed without good reason. She looked at each of her parents, who hadn’t said a word. Her mother’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. Her father’s expression was unreadable, but the stiff set of his shoulders said volumes. Dylan kept walking toward the barn where his horse stood tethered.

  “Everything he’s done has been for you. Trust him, Kayla. And if you don’t trust him, trust me,” her father said.

  “What’s in the contract that’s so important?” Her father was still defending Dylan, giving her cause to wonder why he wasn’t upset about the sale. Her dad suddenly smiled, as if coming to a decision.

  “Nothing important that can’t be fixed. It all depends on you.”

  “What?”

  “You used to love him. Your mother and I knew it back then. The question is, do you still love him?”

  She closed her eyes, the question sending her into a tailspin. Her heart had always known the answer, and no matter how hard she’d tried to lock away her feelings, the key had always been in Dylan’s possession. It’s why she’d stayed away.

  But everything had changed now. He hadn’t slept with Becky, and they didn’t have a son together. He’d walked away to give her a life, not destroy it. And she’d told him about the baby, and he still claimed to love her. No recriminations. No anger. No blame.

  It all came down to trust, because otherwise, the choice was easy. She liked the city, and she liked the country, but she loved the cowboy walking out of her life.

  “I do.” The words squeaked out. She always did. Always would.

  Her father let out a huge sigh of relief, his smile genuine.

  Dylan had mounted his horse and ridden away without a backward glance.

  “Then I reckon I ought to tell you about the Kayla clause.”