by Kate Pearce
“Okay. I’d like that.”
Blue managed a smile. “Now there’s a piñata full of candy waiting to be batted to pieces, so we’d better get with the schedule before Ruth starts complaining.”
Daniel wandered off and Blue stayed put, his gaze on the smiling face of his daughter. He had a good sense that he and Daniel would work things out. Now, if he could only do the same thing with Jenna. Maybe it was time to stop waiting on her and make some decisions for both of them. Maybe it was time to let her know she would always come first with him. He spotted her at one of the tables gesticulating to her parents, her auburn hair in a high ponytail that bobbed as she talked.
He loved her.
It was as simple as that—a single black-and-white moment that had no shade to it at all.
So he’d wait for her.
As he watched she got up and went over to Chase and whispered something in his ear. Blue stiffened as she mounted the small stage and grinned down at the assembled guests.
Chase cupped his hands around his mouth.
“Listen up, everyone! Jenna has something to say.”
“Firstly, the piñata is ready to be whacked, so after I finish speaking please go down to the oak grove and form a line—birthday girl gets first hit. Little kids before the big kids, okay?”
Everyone laughed.
“Secondly, I wanted to share some news with you.” She paused to take a deep breath. “From the end of this month, I will no longer be working for my uncle’s veterinary practice.”
Blue’s gut tightened and he took a step forward only to be blocked by one of the local ranchers, who wagged a finger at Jenna on the stage.
“Don’t you go leaving because of that Mark Lymond, now, Jenna. You’re a good veterinarian.”
Two other ranchers stood up as well. “Hear, hear.”
Jenna’s cheeks went pink and she pressed one hand to her face. “That’s . . . so nice of you guys, but—”
“You want us to talk to Big Mac? There’s no need for you to leave.” That was Maureen from the store. “Because I’ll tell him how great you were with Missy’s horse.”
“No, it’s all good.” She searched the crowd and her gaze fell on Blue. “I’m going to stay. Chase Morgan has offered me a job as the new vet for the guest ranch, and I’ve accepted.”
Blue started to smile.
She looked down. “Sorry, Mom and Dad, but I love it here, and I never want to leave.”
Dave whooped and punched the air as Blue walked toward the stage.
“There is one more thing,” Jenna called out above the applause.
“What’s that?” Blue spoke up.
“It’s kind of about you, actually.” She smiled right down into his eyes. “I wanted to tell you that I’m ready to believe in myself.”
“Yeah? And what else?” He’d reached the stage now and only had to look up a little to see her clearly.
“I love you and I want to be with you.”
He took a long slow breath, reached up, and wrapped her in his arms. “That’s my girl.” He kissed her slowly. The crowd started to clap and holler again.
A persistent tugging on his elbow made Blue look down.
“So, can I be a flower girl?” Maria asked.
Blue raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t had a chance to ask her to marry me yet.”
“But you’re going to, aren’t you? Ruth says she’s perfect for you.”
“Ruth’s right.”
Maria’s smile widened. “She told me to tell you she always is.”
For Blue Morgan
Grandma duPont’s Peaches and Cream Cake
(Courtesy of the Mentink Family)
¾ c. flour
½ tsp. salt
½ c. sugar
1 tsp. baking powder
3 oz. package of vanilla pudding mix
3½ Tbsp. butter, softened
1 egg
½ c. milk
1 29 oz. can drained peaches or apricots in heavy
syrup (reserve 3 Tbsp. of the syrup)
1 8 oz. cream cheese, softened
½ Tbsp.–1 Tbsp. sugar
1 tsp. cinnamon
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter sides and bottom of a 10” deep pie plate.
Mix flour, salt, baking powder, and pudding mix. Blend in butter, egg, and milk. Mix until smooth. Spread in pie pan. Arrange fruit on top of batter.
Beat cream cheese with ½ c. sugar and 3 Tbsp. reserved juice. Spoon over peaches. Mix ½–1 Tbsp. sugar with cinnamon and sprinkle over the top. Bake for 40 minutes until brown. Serve room temp or cold with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream.
For more recipes check out:
www.themorgansranch.com
The Morgan Ranch has seen its share of bad times. But as the four Morgan brothers are drawn back to their childhood home, the nightmares of their past give way to the promise of a new beginning . . .
Ry Morgan has always had a thing for Avery Hayes—one more hope his twin wrecked for him, pretending to be Ry to kiss her at the high school prom. Eight years later, Ry has had enough: he’s quitting the pro rodeo circuit, moving home to California to mend fences, and letting his brother clean up his own messes for a change. Reclaiming Avery’s stolen kiss is at the top of his agenda . . .
But Avery has changed. Her rodeo career ended with a fall that left her lucky to be alive, let alone walking. She hasn’t been on a horse since, and between surgeries and fighting off everybody’s pity, she hasn’t done much else either. Ry is strong, confident, and sexy as hell—exactly what she thought she wanted at seventeen. Now she’ll have to protect the safe space she’s made for herself—or risk it all for a dream she thought would never come again . . .
Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of Kate Pearce’s
Click here to get your copy.
Sacramento, California
Before he even left the parking lot, Ry Morgan heard the bass booming through the walls and the sound of heavy partying from the third-floor apartment. When he turned the corner, he almost walked into a squad car flashing blue lights and a small crowd of agitated neighbors gathered around the door.
“Hell, not again,” he breathed as one of the helpful neighbors pointed him out to the cop.
He held his ground as she came toward him and the noise from above suddenly shut off.
“Can I help you, Officer?”
She jabbed her thumb in the direction of the apartment block. “You live here?”
“I used to. I just stopped by to pick up my stuff.”
“Are you HW Morgan?”
“Nope, I’m his brother, Ry.”
“You sure about that?”
Used to being mistaken for his identical twin, he cautiously reached inside his jacket, took out his wallet, and handed over his driver’s license.
“Thanks.” She studied it, made the usual face at his given name, and then handed it back. “Have you seen your brother recently?”
“Not for about three weeks. What’s up?”
He asked even though it was obvious. The last time HW had thrown a party, the police had been called. Maybe HW had learned something by not sticking around long enough to get caught in the aftermath. Ry’s gut tightened.
“Is it okay to go up there? I just want to get my stuff and head out again in the morning.”
“Wise decision.” The officer looked at him steadily. “Maybe you can make sure the party doesn’t start again.”
“I’ll do my best.” He tipped his Stetson to her. “Thanks.”
“And tell your brother that if he keeps this up, he’ll be spending the rest of his evening with the Sacramento Police Department.”
Ry nodded as he turned away and headed for the front entrance of the building. A police officer was escorting a group of partygoers down the stairs. There were others emerging from the two elevators, still complaining loudly about the abrupt end to their evening. Ry ignored them all. They weren’t his kind of people. They stunk of boo
ze, cheap perfume, and other substances he hoped the police hadn’t noticed.
Wearily, he climbed the stairs, spoke to the building security guy who had lingered on the landing to make sure everyone had left, and went inside. The place was a mess. He shut the door and leaned against it, letting his backpack slide to the floor.
“Well, look who’s turned up.”
He raised his head to see Lally Goldstein glaring at him from his brother’s bedroom doorway. She wore a halter top that had silver spangled bits on it and tiny blue shorts. Her blond hair was piled up on top of her head in a messy ponytail.
“You still here?” Ry asked. “I thought the cops cleared everyone out.”
“I live here now.”
“First I’ve heard about it.”
She tossed her head. “You left. Someone had to look after your brother.”
“HW knew where I was.” He glanced around the wrecked apartment. “Where is he, by the way?”
“What’s it to you?”
Ry didn’t even bother to answer that and stared her down. Eventually she gave an elaborate sigh. “He should be back soon. Randy and Araz took him down the stairs when the cops turned up.”
“Protecting their assets, right?”
She crossed her arms over her chest making her fake boobs jut out. “They’ve done more for him than you ever did—bringing him down, making him feel bad about himself—having to hold himself back for years because he felt sorry for you not being as good a rider as he was.”
“Yeah?” Ry wanted to turn around and walk away from all the shit that was coming out of her mouth, but he refused to leave first. He hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder. “I’m going to bed.”
“You can’t—”
He spun around so fast she took a step back. “HW and I rent this place. Until I hear differently, I’m going to bed.”
He unlocked the padlock he’d installed on his bedroom door and went inside. Nothing looked as if it had been touched, which made a change. His twin tended to think that what was Ry’s was his, but not vice versa. Not that Ry wanted anything his brother had.
With a groan he placed his hat on the desk and shoved a hand through his short blond hair. His stomach growled, but he wasn’t going out there again to face Lally. If HW came back, he could knock on the door and be polite. Maybe Ry would talk to him.
Maybe.
He stripped off his shirt and jeans and took a quick shower in the tiny bathroom attached to his bedroom. There was no more partying, but whether HW would come back Ry no longer knew. Sometimes his twin would stay away for days and return so shitfaced he’d sleep for a week and be as grumpy as hell if Ry tried to talk to him about anything.
He wasn’t sure he cared anymore. Hunkering down on the rug beside his bed, he delved into his backpack where his grandma Ruth had deposited enough food to feed an army. Just the thought of her lightened Ry’s dark mood and gave him strength. He pictured his family at the ranch—his older brothers, Chase and Blue, and his father, Billy. They liked him for who he was. They loved him.
A knock on the door made him go still.
“Ry? You in there?”
He took out the bundle of food and placed it on the desk before slowly turning to the door and opening it. His twin stood there grinning like a loon and swaying slightly in his fancy cowboy boots. They were identical, so it was like looking at a drunk version of himself.
“Dude! You’re back!”
Ry stepped aside and let HW in.
“Something smells good. Did you bring stuff back from the ranch?” HW wandered over to the desk and went to grab the container of food. Ry, who was stone cold sober, moved faster and blocked his twin’s hand.
“What do you want, HW?”
His brother blinked big golden eyes at him. “That’s harsh, Ry. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Ry leaned against the edge of the desk, folded his arms over his chest, and repeated, “What do you want?”
HW retreated to the bed and sank down on it, his expression disgruntled. “Some of Ruth’s good cooking, but it looks like you’ve decided to hog it all for yourself.”
“I’ll gladly share the food with you after you’ve told me what’s going on.”
“You mean about the party?” HW hiccupped a laugh. “That was so sick, man. Those cops have no sense of humor.”
“Those cops told me to tell you that if you host a party again, they’ll be taking you in and charging you.”
“Not unless they catch me first.”
“I think they’ll manage it, especially if you keep drinking.”
HW sighed. “Gawd, when did you become such a boring Dudley Do-Right, bro? I’m just having some fun.”
“Yeah.” Ry studied his twin. HW’s pupils were too large, his eyes were bloodshot, and his whole body was shaking. “You should go to bed. I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay?”
“What’s wrong with talking now?”
“Because you’re too drunk or high or whatever the stimulant of the day is to talk much sense.”
HW rose unsteadily to his feet. “Don’t preach at me.”
Ry set his jaw. “I’m tired. I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.”
His twin took three lurching steps forward that brought him right in Ry’s face. “Screw you. Talk to me about wussing out on me.”
Ry straightened, almost overbalancing his twin. “I am not talking to a belligerent drunk! Get out of my space, or I’ll be the one calling the cops.”
For one frozen second, Ry couldn’t believe what he’d said, and then he realized he meant every word.
“Get out, HW. I’ll speak to you in the morning.”
His twin mumbled something obscene and stumbled away, slamming the bedroom door behind him. In the stillness Ry waited until he heard his brother’s girlfriend start in on him, and then there was comparative silence. He slowly let out his breath.
No regrets. He’d promised himself that he’d make a clean break, so tomorrow he’d tell HW what was happening and leave. His hand clenched into a fist, and he sat down heavily on the desk chair. Now all he had to do was follow through with his plan, and this time make sure he stuck the landing.
* * *
It was almost eleven in the morning, and Ry had made good inroads into packing up the stuff in his bedroom. He had to fit everything in his old pickup truck and was determined to make only one trip. He’d already decided not to take any of the furniture—most of it had come with the apartment anyway or had been chosen by HW.
He stuffed four pairs of socks in his open duffel bag. Chase had offered him his pick of the ranch land to build his own place on, which was kind of cool. Not that he needed all that space yet, but it was good to dream.
“Ry, what the hell are you doing?”
He turned to see HW propping up the doorway wearing nothing but a pair of boxers that barely hung on to his narrow hips. He was also shading his eyes against the glare of the sun.
“I’m packing my stuff.”
“What the heck for?”
Ry looked his twin right in the eye. “Because I’m leaving.”
HW frowned. “We always fight, bro. You know I don’t mean anything. That’s just the way we are.”
“No, it’s the way we’ve become. I don’t like it, HW, and I’m not going to play that game anymore.”
“So, what? You’re walking out on me?”
“I barely see you these days. You’re either training, going to extra events, or . . .” Ry paused. “Doing other stuff I don’t enjoy.”
“I’ve been working my ass off to qualify for the national finals, you know that.”
“Yeah. I really hope you’ll get there.”
“But you’re sulking because I haven’t been spending enough time with you? Hell, Ry, that’s half your problem. If you don’t train hard and compete often, you won’t qualify.”
“I get that.”
“So don’t blame me if you haven’t been dedicated enough to achieve what I
have.”
“I don’t.” Ry added another drawer full of underwear to the bag. “I’m just not cut out for this life.”
HW sat on the bed, his bloodshot gaze fixed on the filled and labeled boxes. “We’re identical twins. If I can do it, you can.”
“But maybe I don’t want to.”
“So you’re going to disappear and leave me here by myself?”
Ry faked a smile. “You’re hardly by yourself. You’ve got Lally all moved in, a potential agent, and a promotional exec hanging around to protect your ass.”
“But they’re not you.”
Ry zipped up the bag and sat on the chair by the desk, swiveling to face his brother. “You’ll be fine.”
“Where are you going?”
“Back to the ranch.”
“For good?” HW frowned. “You’re seriously not coming back?”
“Nope.”
He scratched his unshaven jaw. “We said we’d never do that.”
“Things change. Chase is not as bad as BB painted him—hell, even BB agrees he was wrong, and that’s saying something.”
“But we’ve always been together.”
Ry took a deep breath. “Yeah, I know.”
“You and me against the world.”
“As I said, things change. You’re going forward into a successful career riding saddle broncs, and I’m . . .”
“Yeah, what exactly are you going to do stuck in the middle of nowhere?”
“Help Chase and Blue rebuild the ranch and make it into something special. I might not be a great rodeo guy, but I’m a damned good hand.”
“Help them? What about me?”
“I don’t think you need me at the moment, bro,” Ry said as gently as he could. “You’re doing great.”
HW shot to his feet and took a short turn around the room. “This is because I’ve done better than you—isn’t it? Lally said you were jealous, but I didn’t believe her. But now? Maybe she was right all along.”
