A Rancher’s Song

by Vivian Arend

  And that was somewhere he really didn’t want his mind to go, so he twirled on his heel and out the door, striding up to the ranch house.

  Distraction needed, now.

  He’d only been home for a few days, which hadn’t been nearly long enough to catch up with his family. And truth be told, as gruff and as silent as his older brother could sometimes be, Caleb had a good head on his shoulders. He’d taken on the raising of their family after their parents’ sudden death and had lived up to the challenge, he and Luke, both.

  That nauseating sense of uselessness struck again. Walker had been devastated when they’d lost their parents, and at times it still felt as if he were in shock. Stuck in a place of being absolutely useless to everyone and everything, nothing but a burden to be taken care of.

  He stomped his way onto the deck, still mentally chastising himself. With his current trouble, he was not only being a burden to his family but to the rest of humanity as well. For someone who needed to change his situation, the sense of helplessness rushing him felt like a heavy anchor dragging him down.

  He glanced through the glass window in the door a second before he jerked it open. And thank God he did, because Caleb was most definitely busy. He had Tamara in his lap, hands settled on her hips as she stroked her fingers through his hair. The two of them were staring into each other’s eyes as they spoke softly, anticipation and connection clear in their body language.

  Walker pivoted, stepping softer with his retreat.

  He didn’t begrudge Caleb his happiness one bit. His brother had been through hell and back with his first wife, and having found a woman who not only loved him but loved his little girls had put something right at the heart of Silver Stone.

  It didn’t help Walker get his troubles off his chest, though.

  He took a turn through the barns, examining the beautiful horses that were the second half of the ranch income. Again, not something Walker had been a big contributor to. This was far more Luke’s work. As Walker ran a hand down the flank of a mare and she eased under his touch, he appreciated his brother’s skill even as he worried about how the change in finances would affect Luke’s plans going forward.

  Walker stepped around the corner and jerked to a stop, backing up rapidly to avoid letting his second brother see him. Damn, he’d been looking for Luke, but this wasn’t how he wanted to find him—pressing his fiancée Penny up against the wall.

  “Oh God. Yes.” Her head fell back, blonde hair falling in waves as her fingers clutched Luke’s shoulders, digging in.

  “Dammit, Penny. You’re driving me crazy,” Luke muttered before sweeping her up in his arms and crashing a shoulder against the nearest door. The heavy wooden barrier slammed shut a second later, trapping the two of them in one of the tack rooms.

  Walker took off as quickly as he could, but he still heard bodies banging into a wall before he was out of earshot.

  Okay, that answered one question. Luke and Penny were still an item. They’d been engaged for a couple years now, but never seemed to be moving any further forward. Not that Walker was about to tell his brother how to handle his relationships considering the only woman he’d ever cared about had all but offered herself up on a silver platter tonight, and he’d been a fool and turned her down.

  What do you have to offer her? his conscience demanded.

  Nothing. Less than nothing, which was precisely the reason why they were going to stay “just friends” even though the thought was killing him.

  Thank God his next destination turned out to be not only safe but twice as successful as he’d hoped. Ashton Stewart had been the Silver Stone foreman long before Walker had been born. As Walker glanced in the window of the man’s private quarters on the far edge of the bunkhouse, he saw Kelli James was there as well, the two of them sitting together at a table with a deck of cards.

  Ashton’s front door held a huge wreath hung in the middle with Canada Day flags festooning the wild spruce branches. It didn’t strike him as Ashton’s style.

  Walker found a free spot on the surface to knock, swinging the door open to Ashton’s instant “Come in.”

  “You got room at the table for a third?”

  “Fourth,” Kelli corrected. “Dusty is in the bathroom.”

  “Dustin,” his youngest brother snapped as he stepped back into the room. “God, Kelli, you look like you’re about twelve years old, so it’s not your failing memory making you forget my damn name.”

  “Dustin,” Ashton rebuked him sharply before gesturing that Walker should take the empty chair at the table. “You’re welcome to stop in.”

  While his brother sat and reset the crib board, Kelli, who’d been working Silver Stone as a ranch hand for years, eyed Walker with curiosity.

  “What? Do I have mud on my face?”

  She dragged her fingers over his cheek, pulling back to show a trace of pink on her fingertips. She didn’t bother to hide her smirk. “I was going to be nice and not tease, but considering it’s barely eight o’clock, and you’re already done with your bachelor date, there’s just so much to tease about I don’t think I can resist.”

  “You were out with Ivy Fields?” Ashton asked. “How’s she doing?”

  “Fine. Happy to be back and planning on staying. She’s got herself a great job.” Walker kept his expression as blank as possible as he grabbed the cards from Dustin’s hand and shuffled. “She worked hard while she was gone, and now she’s getting rewarded for it. I always like it when people I know come out on top.”

  Kelli and Dustin exchanged glances that said they weren’t buying his bullshit.

  Ashton kept staring at Walker, his poker face remaining unreadable. “Good for her,” was all he said.

  Walker dealt, ignoring the unspoken questions.

  He assumed they wouldn’t be stupid or rude enough to actually dig in, but he hadn’t counted on Kelli and her amazing ability to ignore all the signs that were right there saying do not cross this line.

  “So. She kissed you on the cheek.”

  “Yup.”

  “After what was basically a reunion date, considering you two used to be super-sweethearts.”

  “Yup.” He sorted his cards. Again.

  “So, after that steamy kiss you two exchanged during the auction, which I did not see but did hear all about, you’re saying Ivy kissed your cheek at the end of the date?”

  “You got a point?” Walker folded his arms over his chest and glared at her.

  She grinned back. “Nope. Just making a few comments.”

  “I’d say something, but I kind of like my head attached to my shoulders, so I’ll resist,” Dustin muttered before playing the first card.

  They played for a while, and all conversation centered on the game, but the questions were still hovering.

  Didn’t mean Walker had to answer them.

  So it surprised him when Kelli finally did say something not remotely in the direction he thought she would go. Up until then, he’d assumed everyone would encourage him to rekindle his romance with his high school sweetheart.

  Instead, her words made a whole lot of sense. “You did a good thing by taking part in the bachelor auction, but just because you knew her back when doesn’t mean you guys need to be an item now.”

  “True.” Ashton nodded slowly. “Being in a relationship isn’t the be-all and end-all some people make it out to be. It’s not something to jump into.”

  “Exactly. There are a hell of a lot of things I want to do before I settle down,” Dustin offered.

  Kelli snickered. “You’re just a baby. Of course you don’t want to settle down yet.”

  “Kelli, behave,” Ashton warned. “The boy’s got a valid point. You don’t have to come back and prod him about his age. Time passes quickly enough, but not if you’re with the wrong person. There’s nothing wrong with waiting until you find the right one.”

  “Nothing wrong with being on your own,” Kelli offered back.

  Ashton lifted a finger
and pointed it at her, nodding his head firmly. “Don’t want to be tied down, never wanted it. Too much else for me to do. I’ve already got my family right here at Silver Stone. Don’t need to be dealing with some woman fussing about with fancy doodads and whatnot.”

  Walker didn’t stop his snort in time.

  The foreman frowned at him. “What’re you snickering about?”

  “I just couldn’t help but notice the decoration on your front door seemed a whole lot frillier than what I’d expect.”

  Kelli kicked him under the table, but she was fighting to keep a straight face. “Oh, you know when Ms. Sonora gets her mind set on something, there’s no telling her to go away.”

  Ashton sat there as if he were facing the torments of hell. “Tamara told her she was allowed to give everyone a thank-you gift for helping take care of her animals when she was sick this past winter. I didn’t know that meant the woman was going to slap fancy plants on my door.”

  “Ms. Sonora? Are you talking about Ivy’s grandma?” Walker asked.

  Three heads nodded in unison. “She still lives on that ranch of hers a couple of range roads down. Refuses to move into town like a sensible woman would.” Ashton shook his head. “It’s not as if we could leave her animals to suffer when she was feeling poorly.”

  “Of course not,” Kelli said instantly, but she turned to face Walker and winked on the sly.

  Ashton finished his proclamation. “I like my life. It’s simple, it’s clean, and my time is my own.”

  “Amen.” Kelli raised her glass in the air. “Well, except for the part about my time being my own, because I’m pretty sure you’re in charge of ninety-five percent of my time.”

  The old man grinned. “That’s your fault. If you’d stop hanging around the ranch when you’ve got time off, you wouldn’t have to look at my ugly mug so often.”

  Dustin held up the deck of cards. “Want to go again?”

  Walker nodded his agreement along with the others. They were good company for a man who felt rootless and reckless.

  And all of them, maybe with the exception of Dustin, were lying through their teeth. They all wanted more, but for now this was what they’d got.

  It had to be enough because there was no other option.

  * * *

  Ivy got up on time, prepped for the day, and firmly fixed a smile on her face before she went to knock on her baby sister Fern’s bedroom door. Just because she was all kinds of sad inside didn’t mean she was going to allow herself to wallow in self-pity.

  Besides, diving into Ben and Jerry’s for breakfast was not something she wanted to make a habit.

  She knocked a little harder. “Fern? You still in bed?”

  The door swung open in front of her, but Fern wasn’t in her pyjamas. She was wrapped in a white smock, a paintbrush held in her teeth, probably put there so she could use her hand on the doorknob.

  Fern grabbed the paintbrush as she twirled away. “Close the door. I’ve got the window open to air out the fumes, but I don’t want the wind moving my papers.”

  Ivy hurried to follow her instructions, stepping inside and closing the door behind her as Fern hurried back to an oversized easel positioned near the large window. She had the surface tilted to a slight angle with dozens of pieces of paper pinned over it. She picked up more paint on her brush and ignored Ivy completely, rapidly adding colour to each of the dozen pages in turn.

  “I’m not trying to be rude, but I can’t stop at this point,” Fern explained. “It’s watercolour, and I’m blending.”

  “No problem.” Ivy made her way to a tall stool she could rest on, watching with great interest as her little sister added touches of brilliant blue and shocking red, and on each page the lines of connection blurred differently to create splashes of purple in a multitude of tones.

  Ivy let her gaze drift from the artwork and roam over her sister. Fern gripped the paintbrush with confidence. Her deeply tanned skin looked darker against the white smock, and her riot of tight black curls had been pulled into a knot at the base of her skull. Her dark eyes moved rapidly, boldness in her moves as she added splashes of colour to the final pages.

  “Will it disturb you if I talk?” Ivy asked.

  “Not at this point. When I’m getting things set up I need to focus, but this is a bit like following a rhythm.” Fern grabbed a jar off the side table and held it against her body with her left forearm, wrestling off the top with her right hand before placing it carefully next to the rest of her paints. “There are times I really wish I had three hands and not one,” she joked.

  “You do pretty well with the one you’ve got,” Ivy pointed out.

  “True.” Fern was back to work in the next breath.

  Ivy glanced at the bedside table where Fern had left her prosthetic. As usual, her sister seemed just as happy without putting on her bionic parts, as she called her device, although, she did love getting new variations. Emails over the years from Fern had always included an update on whatever technology was the next greatest thing.

  Ivy turned her attention to the coloured pages. “These are neat—the pictures. What’s the plan?”

  Because Fern always had a plan. Even back when Ivy had been in her final year of school and Fern in elementary school, it was the eight-year-old who made lists and agendas, broken down into subsections and time frames, no less. Nothing was left to chance when it came to her little sister.

  “I’m working on graphics for a game, and I’m trying to figure out what background colouring I want to program into the digital core matrix.”

  Ivy blinked. “Okay.”

  Fern laughed. “You’re so funny. That’s exactly what Mom said.”

  “As long as you’re having fun, I’m glad. I don’t understand what you said, though.”

  Her sister snorted louder. “And…that’s what Dad said.”

  Ivy stepped forward as Fern put her paintbrush into a jug of water, turning to hold out her arms and offer a hug. Fern jerked to a stop and held up a finger for a moment. “Let me get out of this. You don’t need to get covered in paint splotches.”

  She tossed the white coat over the back of a chair then wrapped Ivy in a tight hug. “It’s good to have you home,” Fern murmured against her shoulder.

  “It’s good to be home, although I won’t be living here for much longer. You’ll be able to go back to sleeping in my room if you want.”

  “I don’t mind sleeping in here. I know it’s a little crowded with all of my art stuff, but it’s got the best light in the whole house so it’s worthwhile.” Fern ran her hand over her head and tucked away a coil of hair that had come loose. “What are you up to today?”

  “I thought I’d go over to Buns and Roses. Want to join me for breakfast?”

  Her little sister grinned. “What? We get to go torment Tansy and Rose? Of course, I’m in.”

  “You’re terrible. Want to drive?”

  Fern nodded. “I’ll meet you downstairs in five minutes.”

  It was more like fifteen before they snuck away, having finally convinced their mom they were happy to get their own breakfast.

  For a small town, there was an awful lot of traffic going in and out the front door of the coffee shop, which was probably a great thing considering the more people, the better the shop was doing.

  Behind the counter, Tansy was chatting up a couple of young men with cowboy hats on. Rose spotted her sisters first as she came out on the floor carrying a tray covered with baked goods. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

  Ivy glanced at Fern. “Which one of us is supposed to be the cat?”

  “Meow.”

  Rose laughed. “Talk in a minute, I’m kind of busy.” She walked past them to a corner table, where she unloaded food in front of expectant customers.

  “Know what you want?” Ivy asked Fern.

  “Hot chocolate, the muffin of the day, and whatever Tansy wants to give me. She’s always got something special up her sleeve.” Fern waved at someone
before gesturing to the side. “You want to put in the order, and I’ll grab a table?”

  “Sure.”

  Tansy looked surprisingly happy to see her. “Ms. Fields. Are you still drinking two-shot lattes?”

  “Yes, and Fern wants hot chocolate, and we’ll both have muffins and whatever else you want to give us for breakfast. I hear that’s the way it’s supposed to work.”

  Her sister’s face lit up. “No problem. But you have to promise to come around this evening when the shop is closed. I don’t mind cooking for you, but I’d like to be able to sit and chat as well.”

  “We’re going to have lots of time,” Ivy assured her.

  She made her way across the room with the two hot drinks, placing one in front of Fern then settling in the chair beside her.

  Once again familiar faces filled the room, along with some new ones. “There are a lot fewer old-timers in here than I would’ve expected for a coffee shop,” Ivy said softly to Fern.

  “Buns and Roses is too newfangled. Or that’s what the complaints in the newspaper said,” Fern told her with a laugh. “Tansy doesn’t offer too wide of a menu, and what she does bake is all slightly unusual, so the local farmers still go to Connie’s Cafe.”

  Ivy examined the full room. “It doesn’t seem to have affected business.”

  “Nope. Tansy said the old guys were the ones who never tipped anyway, and all they wanted was cups of black coffee with endless free refills. She can do without their company, but all their sons are showing up here.” Fern took a sip of her hot chocolate, her dark eyes dancing with mischief. “Only partly because of how well Tansy can cook.”

  Ivy stared for a minute at her little sister. “What?”

  Fern grinned harder as she tilted her head toward the counter where another set of young men were ordering more food, vying to impress Tansy and Rose. “Face it. They’re good businesswomen, and they’re easy on the eyes. Add in the fact Tansy likes to cook?” Fern shrugged as if it were crystal clear.