The Rancher's Unexpected Family

by Helen Lacey

  From the kitchen window she had a clear view of all the cabins and wandered back and forth a few times to see if there was any movement from the one now occupied by her newest guests. But nothing. She made a pot of coffee and looked through the pantry for something to snack on, settling on a half-eaten packet of rice crackers.

  Note to self—must stop thinking about a certain hot dad. Focus on the real reason he’s here.

  Easy.

  Ash was dipping into the packet for her third cracker when there was a knock on the door of the back mudroom, which was just off the kitchen. She turned on her heels. The door was open and Cole stood there, looking so totally gorgeous as he rested one strong shoulder against the jamb that her mouth turned dry and the cracker she was eating suddenly felt like sandpaper as it lodged in her throat.

  “Oh...hello,” she said and coughed, then coughed again, quickly making her way around the counter for some water. She poured a glass, still coughing. She took a few sips, but the itching in her throat remained and she coughed again. And again. Until her eyes starting watering and she had to bend over to alleviate the dry, choking sensation.

  Then she felt an unexpected hand on her back. A large, soothing hand that patted her gently between the shoulder blades. The coughing quickly subsided and she swallowed hard, feeling the heat of his touch through the cotton shirt she wore. Ash straightened immediately, swiveling on her heels. Which only heightened the intimacy of the space between them—which was no space at all. His hand remained on her back and they were close enough that she could see he had a small scar on his temple and another under his chin. And the scent of him once again assailed her senses. Never in her life had she been so intensely aware of a man—particularly one she’d known less than an hour. But this man made her remember that she was more than a mom, a rancher and a police officer...and that she was very much a flesh-and-blood woman.

  “Are you okay now?” he asked quietly, dropping his hand.

  Ash stepped back and nodded. “Ah, yes... I’m fine.”

  “I’m sorry if I startled you,” he said and moved around the counter.

  “Oh, no problem, I feel fine now. What can I do for you?”

  “I thought we should talk,” he said and met her gaze. “About Maisy. You probably have some questions and I’d like to discuss this without my daughter in earshot.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Ash said, regaining her equilibrium and good sense as she poured coffee into two mugs, and then asked the first obvious question. “Can you tell me about her mother?”

  He shrugged a little uncomfortably. “Her name was Deanna. She died eight months ago. Pancreatic cancer.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Ash said, handing him one of the mugs.

  “Don’t be,” he said quickly and then frowned when he realized how odd his reply must have sounded. “I mean, of course, yes, it’s tragic for someone so young...and for Maisy. But I didn’t know her very well.”

  Ash’s brow came up instantly. “Really?”

  “Well, of course I knew her,” he said, clearly uncomfortable. “You want the story, here it is—nearly fifteen years ago I knew her for three days. I was twenty-two, she was twenty. We met at a race and we hooked up, spending three nights together. I never saw her again after that. And then eight months ago a woman from social services knocked on my door and told me I had a teenage daughter.”

  She sat down opposite him. “Deanna never let you know she was pregnant?”

  He shook his head. “It wasn’t exactly a love match. It was a weekend.”

  “How do you think you would have reacted had she told you from the beginning?”

  He shrugged again. “I’m not sure. At the time my life was hectic. I’d just won my first major race and I was regularly traveling around the country. And I wasn’t interested in anything serious. But I’d like to believe I would have tried to do the right thing. I’ll never know. All I know is that now I am in a position to do what’s right...and that’s to try and have some kind of relationship with my daughter and give her a home.”

  Ash admired his honesty. “She seems very resistant to the idea.”

  “She hates my guts,” he said bluntly. “But I’m all she’s got.”

  “Are there any relatives on her mother’s side?”

  “None,” he replied. “Her parents have both passed away and there are only a couple of very distant cousins in Wichita. My parents and both my sisters have tried to help, even offering to have Maisy go and live with them.”

  “But?” Ash prompted.

  “She says she doesn’t want that, either. Frankly, I’m all out of ideas.”

  Ash nodded. “But you want her to be with you?”

  “Of course,” he snapped back quickly. “She’s my kid. I’m her father. We’re family. And family is everything. I just need to work out how to get her to at least like me.”

  “She doesn’t have to like you,” Ash said earnestly. “She doesn’t have to love you. You just have to love her. No one tells you that when you become a parent—it’s something we all learn in our own time and our own way. She’ll come around, but you need to be prepared for a lot of difficulty in between. Anger, despair and probably a lot of silence. As irrational as it seems, she probably blames you for her mother’s death.”

  His blue eyes glittered. “You’re right.”

  “And telling her that you didn’t know about her up until eight months ago will make no difference to her adolescent logic.”

  “You’re right again. You can figure that out by one short conversation with her? How?”

  Ash drank her coffee and then cradled the mug between her hands. “Experience. She needs someone to blame for her unhappiness and you’re it. You’ll need a thick skin to get through the next few weeks.”

  His mouth creased in a half smile. “My mom is black, my dad is white and I grew up in a city that is predominantly white and Hispanic. A thick skin was a necessary part of growing up.”

  Ash nodded slightly. “I guess we all have our trials. I was reading a few articles about you earlier,” she said and drank some coffee.

  “Really?”

  “I Googled,” she explained. “Mostly about your career and the family business.”

  He shrugged lightly. “The family dynasty,” he said. “Three generations of grease monkeys. My grandfather made sure all the grandsons learned our trade under the hood before we were allowed behind the wheel.”

  “Not the granddaughters?” she inquired.

  “We’re an equal-opportunity family,” he said and grinned. “However, both my sisters preferred college to the garage and our five cousins are all male. But you never know, Maisy might just decide to pick up a wrench instead of a textbook.”

  Ash raised a brow. “Good answer. If that’s the case, I may get you to take a look at my old truck. The brake line needs replacing and the darn thing keeps overheating.”

  “No problem,” he replied. “I’d like to earn my keep while we’re here, since Joel made it very clear that you refuse to take any kind of financial assistance from me.”

  “You’ll only be here a few weeks,” she reminded him. “That won’t make me broke.”

  He sighed. “I’d still like to pay my way.”

  She shook her head. “I’m doing this as a favor for Joel. And because I want to help you.”

  “I appreciate that, but –”

  “Money muddies the waters,” she said, interrupting him and then she chewed on her bottom lip.

  “Maybe,” he said and looked at her mouth for a second. “I’ve never really had to worry about it.”

  “Lucky you,” she said wryly. “I shall make sure I stir your coffee with a silver spoon from now on.”

  He laughed and the sound made her heart beat faster.

  When he spoke
again she was barely able to meet his gaze. “I guess that comment did make me sound like a pompous ass. Which I assure you, I’m not. My grandfather didn’t believe in free rides in life, and my dad feels the same.”

  “Sounds like you’ve had strong role models,” she remarked. “That will be good for Maisy. Tell me about your mother—I saw a picture when I was surfing the web. She’s striking.”

  “She’s the best,” he replied quickly. “And she’s tried to develop a relationship with my daughter in the last few months, but Maisy...” He shrugged. “Small steps, I guess.”

  Ash nodded. “Absolutely. Once Maisy works out that you’re not her enemy, I’m sure she’ll take comfort in the rest of your family, too. Thank you for being candid.”

  “We’re living at your home, imposing on your generosity, so I have no intention of whitewashing how bad things have become.”

  Ash’s insides contracted. He genuinely cared for his daughter and she felt a sudden surge of compassion for him. “Has it been difficult from the beginning?”

  “She’s been in trouble pretty much since she came to live with me,” he replied. “Once it was confirmed that she was my daughter I sought full custody. Since there were no other close relatives it was granted and she moved into my apartment. But it was hard. Maisy didn’t want to be there. Actually, I’m sure she didn’t know what she wanted. But I enrolled her in school and then within a couple of weeks I got a call from the principal about truancy and smoking. She was suspended for a week and then we had the issue with the shoplifting and she got hauled down to the police station. Thankfully, Joel got the charges dropped, but I knew she was getting deeper into trouble. And frankly, I was all out of options until your cousin suggested we come here.”

  “Can I offer some advice?”

  He nodded. “That’s what I was hoping for.”

  “Don’t expect too much, too soon,” she said and sighed. “She’s obviously still grieving for her mom and learning to trust you will take time. You need to put aside any impatience or judgment and simply let her...be. Tell me, does she have a boyfriend?”

  His eyes rolled. “God, I hope not.”

  Ash chuckled. “Well, she’s fourteen, and fourteen-year-old girls think about all that.”

  “It’s what fourteen-year-old boys think about that worries me.”

  She met his gaze. It was steady. Unwavering. She suspected he was always like that. Strong. Reliable. He’d clearly embraced the responsibility of his child, which said plenty about his measure. Ash admired that. Some people didn’t have the backbone for that kind of responsibility.

  Like Pete.

  A little voice reminded her that now was not the time to reminisce about Pete Shapiro and his many failings. She knew them as though they were carved within the very fiber of her soul.

  “Well, there are no fourteen-year-old boys here at the moment, so you can relax.”

  He sat back and the chair creaked. “You said you had three kids here right now?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Tahlia, she’s eight. Her brother, Micah, is nine. And Ricky is seventeen.”

  His brows came together. “Seventeen?”

  Ash smiled. “No need to worry, he’s not interested in girls. At all,” she added. “Which is part of the reason why he’s here. His parents can’t accept that he’s gay and it’s been a tough time for him.”

  He nodded. “I look forward to meeting them. And your son, of course.”

  Ash’s heart warmed. “Jaye is amazing. He’s my whole world.”

  “Can I ask about his father?”

  “You can ask,” she replied. “He’s not on the scene and hasn’t been for a long time. And I’d prefer the subject not to come up around my son.”

  “Sure,” he said easily. “Anything else off-limits? Old boyfriend? Current boyfriend?”

  “No boyfriend,” she responded.

  “Have the men in this town all got blindfolds on?”

  Even if it wasn’t meant that way, his words sounded pretty flirtatious, and they both knew it. Heat, bright and damning, rose up her neck and throat and smacked her directly in the cheeks like a cattle brand. She got to her feet and pushed in the chair. Coffee was over. She had chores to do. And blue eyes to escape from.

  “You should come for dinner tonight,” she said quietly. “That way you and Maisy can meet everyone. So, about six?”

  He stood and nodded, obviously aware he was being dismissed. “Thank you. See you later.”

  For a time after he left, Ash still smelled the traces of his cologne in the air. It was nice, sort of woodsy and masculine, and it did a whole bunch of things to her usual good sense. She shook the notion off and started packing the dishwasher and once the dishes were done, Ash picked up her phone and called her friend Nicola Radici. She wanted to vent and Nicola was exactly the ear she needed.

  “So, he’s hot and single?” Nicola asked after Ash told her friend about her new guests, including how unfairly attractive Cole was. “How awful for you.”

  Ash bit back a grin. “Yes. Inconveniently so.”

  “Are you looking for sympathy?” Nicola queried and laughed.

  Ash was about to respond when her son came through the door. Her heart flipped over at the sight of him. He was the light of her life. She ended the call, telling Nicola they would catch up soon, and then gave her son her full attention, briefly answering his questions about the new arrivals, and then she made him a snack. It gave her something to do and took her mind off things.

  And off a certain, six-foot-something, utterly gorgeous man she suspected was destined to invade her thoughts and dreams for the foreseeable future.

  * * *

  When Cole returned to the cabin Maisy was sitting on one of the sofas, feet curled lotus-style, head down as she looked at her cellphone.

  “Everything okay?” he asked when he spotted her.

  “The cell reception here sucks,” she complained and held her phone above her shoulder with a dramatic scowl.

  “It might be better outside,” he suggested. “We can go for a walk and look around if you like.”

  She shrugged and stood. “I’m gonna go to my room.”

  Cole watched her retreat down the hall and then heard a door slam. Every conversation was a battle. Every look one of defiance. Every interaction filled with rage. She was lost. Out of reach. And he had no idea how to connect with her.

  He dropped into the sofa, defeated, wondering if coming to the ranch had been a good idea. At the time Joel had suggested it, Cole felt as though he’d been given a lifeline. But now, he wasn’t so sure. It was just geography. Maisy was still Maisy. He was still the one person she seemed to hate above everyone else.

  She’s doesn’t have to love you. You just have to love her.

  Ash’s words scrambled around in his head. She was right. But he still didn’t know how he should feel about them. The moment he’d discovered he had a daughter, he’d made every effort to do the right thing. It had been a no-brainer to have the required DNA test and then go to court to get custody. As scared as he was about the idea of being a father, she was his daughter, his blood. His parents had been over the moon at the idea of being grandparents and his sisters had immediately embraced Maisy into the family. It was Maisy who dragged her feet. Of course he understood—her mother was dead and she felt alone. But she wasn’t, and that was the most damnable and frustrating thing. He wanted to be her father, if she would just meet him halfway.

  He stretched out and closed his eyes as fatigue settled into his muscles. It had been a long few days. Firstly, getting Maisy to agree to come to South Dakota had been challenging, especially when she insisted she was happy to go into the foster-care system. But he didn’t believe her. Sometimes, he was sure he saw glimpses of her actually settling into the life they had together, but her res
istance was like a wall she felt she needed to keep up. One he wasn’t sure he could ever break down.

  Cole sighed and relaxed against the scratchy sofa. It would work out. He had to believe that. He dozed for a while and when he awoke it was after five o’clock. Maisy was in her room and he tapped on her door and told her they were going up to the main house at six for dinner. He headed to his own room to unpack, and then shower and change. When he returned to the living room Maisy was standing by the fireplace, earbuds in their usual position.

  “Ready to go?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Do I have a choice, Cole?”

  The way she used his name made his nerves twitch. “No.”

  Her scowl increased. “Then I guess I’m ready.”

  They left the cabin and walked up to the house, side by side. Maisy’s arms were tightly crossed and he suspected he was in for one of her dark moods. He’d tried to get her to open up about her mom, but she’d always responded with some snappy retort about how he didn’t know anything about her and it didn’t matter since her mom was dead. And guilt always seemed to manifest itself in him whenever she talked about her mother. For Cole, Deanna was a dim memory. A pretty, young blonde woman he barely recalled. There’d been a lot of women back then. A lot of beds. A lot of meaningless sex and awkward morning-afters. That changed after the accident that almost killed him when he was twenty-seven. He’d spent three weeks in a coma, with a broken back, busted left arm, smashed-up kneecap and so many cuts and bruises he looked like he’d gone through a meat grinder. Four months in hospital, several surgeries and six months of rehab had taught him not to take anything for granted. The accident ended his racing career and drafted him into an early retirement from the track. Now, he managed the team and crew, including his cousin Lance, who was regularly one of the top three drivers in the country at the end of each season. He missed racing, but his cobbled-together bones weren’t able to withstand the endless workout that the NASCAR circuit demanded. And since he’d done everything he could to make sure he didn’t spend his life in a wheelchair, he wasn’t about to do anything that risked his long-term health. Even though the sidelines weren’t as glamourous, didn’t have the adrenaline rush of a podium finish, he could at least live the rest of his life on his feet.